Page 86 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

Now what?

Holding Beej as if she might lose him, Cissy stared at her husband. She felt as if the temperature in the house had just dropped ten degrees. During the one-sided conversation, Jack nodded but said little. “Yeah,” he finished, “we caught it on the news…. sure…we will…you got it…Thanks.” He hung up and walked back to the living room, where Cissy, numb, was still sitting, clinging to Beej. “That was Paterno,” Jack said, frowning. “He was calling to tell us about Cherise and warn us to watch our backs.”

“He thinks we’re in danger too.”

“He thinks anyone remotely related to your mother could be a target.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but it deepened the chill in Cissy’s soul.

Checking his watch, Jack said, “I’ll go and pack my things. It’ll take a while, but I’ll be back. Until then, lock every door and don’t let anyone in but me.”

“You’re really worried?”

“Maybe you should come with me.”

“No…we’re okay. Beej and I’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ve got Coco to protect us.”

Jack snorted. “Now I know we’re in trouble. You’re sure you’ll be okay without me?”

“Just…hurry…”

Marla was being a pill.

Again.

Elyse was tumbling down fast from the high of killing Cherise, her good mood having been evaporated by the fact that her lover had stood her up. Well, not completely. He’d called her and explained that he’d have to “take a rain check” and see her “another time.”

As if he were planning to break up with her.

Elyse had been furious, ranting and raving. The son of a bitch was playing her, and she knew it. Why couldn’t he see that he loved her? Her! No one else. Not his damned wife. She’d been near tears, and the horrible thoughts that she usually kept at bay, the taunts that she was never good enough, had rolled through her mind.

You’re not good enough for him.

No one’s ever loved you.

Why would you think he would fall for you?

He’s using you, Elyse, just as everyone in your life has!

Sometime after two AM she’d calmed enough to watch a boring movie in the big, empty bed, finally falling asleep. She’d awakened at the usual time, her head thundering, her spirits quashed.

She’d had a few moments of triumph, however, when she caught bits of the news and realized that Cherise’s death was making a splash. Her lover had called too, and apologized, promising to meet her soon; if not tonight, then as soon as he could get away.

Which was far from perfect, she thought, looking around the basement room, trying to cajole Marla out of another bout of depression. God, the woman was impossible! Her lover would come around. She was sure of it. For now, she had to deal with Marla. Elyse had even gone so far as to give the bitch a manicure, painting her nails a deep shade of red that bordered on purple, and when Marla had been cross about the color not being right for her, Elyse had resisted the urge to poke the manicure scissors through Marla’s eyes and blind her. “I think you’re wrong, it’s perfect. Goes with your hair.”

“I don’t know….” Marla was unconvinced.

“It’s just soooo you!” Oh, gag, she hated kissing Marla’s ass, but she reminded herself it wasn’t forever. She just had to keep the older woman mollified a little while longer.

“Would you do my toes too?”

“Can’t you do them yourself?”

Marla sighed, and Elyse acquiesced though she hated the thought of touching anyone’s feet. Talk about gross! But she’d do anything—any-damned-thing—to keep Marla from blowing all her plans. So far Marla was hanging in there, keeping out of sight. If painting her nasty toes would keep her satisfied, then so be it.

“I’m glad you took care of Cherise,” Marla finally admitted as she sat in her chair and gazed down at her glossy toenails. The television was on again, this time turned to a reality show where the contestants vied against each other in some kind of celebrity fitness competition.

“One step closer,” Elyse agreed. “Closer to D-day.”

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