Killing Me Softly (#Wattys2016)

SEVENTY-ONE

SEVENTY-ONE

It was almost 11 P.M. before the flight finally left JFK. The flights Sondra had taken across the globe while doing her documentaries couldn't compare with this two hour, nine minute flight, which was turning into the longest of her life. The flight attendants got tired of giving her cups of ice; they finally plunked a plastic bag of it on her tray table. Her fingers were so demolished, at one point she sat on them. But then she couldn't help herself and was gnawing on them again as they began their final descent. She found the last rental car available in St. Louis, and when she finally dropped into the hotel bed, she didn't know whether to sleep or stay awake.

She compromised and settled on a few hours of sleep. She was up at seven and was now sitting in her rental car in front of the clinic where Phillip worked. If things had gone how she originally planned, she would have been able to go to his house last night. So it goes. She checked her watch again. It was eight-thirty and the hours posted on the door said they opened at nine. She took another sip of coffee and sighed. A burgundy Mazda pulled into the parking lot and she sat up, peering closely to see if it might be him. A few minutes passed before the door swung open and a petite black woman dressed in a multicolored pharmacy smock and green scrub pants got out. Sondra blinked several times.

"Oh, my God. That's his wife. That's Paula." She remembered what Phillip's letter had said. "I thought he said she was a housewife," Sondra muttered. Shaking her head, Sondra flung the car door open and ran over to the woman who was getting something out of the trunk.

"Excuse me. Excuse me," Sondra called out as she reached the woman.

"Yes?"

Sondra held out her hand. "Hi," she said, slightly out of breath. "I'm Sondra Ellis. Phillip's sister-in-law. Well, I guess, former sister-in-law. He still works here, right?"

The woman eyed Sondra, skeptical. "Yes, he works here," she said. "He should be here any minute."

"Oh. Oh, good! I'm actually glad we had a chance to talk before he got here. Forgive me if I sound rude, but I thought he said you stayed home?"

The woman placed her hand on her hip and stared Sondra down. "I'm sorry, but what do you want?"

"Oh, gosh, Paula, I'm sorry to-"

The woman cut her off. "Paula? Wait, did you just call me Paula?"

Sondra frowned. "Yeah?"

"I'm not Paula. That's his wife. I'm Maxine. I just work for Phillip."

Sondra saw the words tumble out of the woman's mouth, but wasn't quite able to catch them. "Excuse me?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Paula is his wife. Phillip and I just work together."

"Oh, my... God, wait, wait a minute." Sondra groped inside her bag for the picture. "Phillip sent this picture of the two of you to my mother and said you were married." Sondra held the picture in front of Maxine, an anxious look on her face. Maxine took the picture and looked at it a moment before she handed it back to Sondra.

"Yeah, that's me. It was taken at our Christmas party last year. Are you sure that's what he said?"

Sondra looked back down at the picture clamped between her trembling fingers. "I don't understand. I know he said-" She glanced back up to see an irritated Maxine gazing at her. Sondra gave up, knowing if she tried to explain this whole mess, the woman wouldn't believe it anyway.

"You know, I'm mistaken. He never said that." Sondra dropped the picture back into her bag. "Look, I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to him about this. I want to surprise him... kind of a family thing. Please? Don't say anything?"

The woman set a hard stare on Sondra for a few seconds before she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, fine, whatever. I gotta get to work." She pulled a duffel bag out of the trunk, slammed it shut and went to step around Sondra.

"Oh, um, just one more thing." Sondra opened up the crumpled piece of paper that she had shoved into the pocket of her jeans before she left New York. "Can you tell me how to get to Red Rose Lane?"

Maxine rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, just go out to Miller Road here, make a right, take that about three miles until you see a sign for The Crossings, where you will make a left. Then make another left at Red Rose Lane. Can't miss it."

"Thanks so much," she said as she turned back toward the rental car. Sondra slid into the front seat, replaying her encounter with Maxine.

She heard her phone jangle from inside her purse. She dropped her hand inside until her fingers closed around it. It was Cecily.

"Hi Cecily, I can't talk right now."

"Sondra, listen, it's important."

"If you're gonna tell me to go to the police-"

"We got a call from a guy who knows Phillip. A doctor."

"What kind of a doctor?"

A psychiatrist. Sondra, listen, I need to let you know what he told us."

Sondra gripped the steering wheel. "What?"

Cicely sighed. "According to this guy Keegan-"

Sondra's phone went dead. She groaned and looked at the battery and realized she'd forgotten to charge the phone.

"Damn," she muttered and threw the phone onto the passenger seat. She'd have to call Cicely when she got back to the hotel. She sighed again, wondering what to do about Phillip. She checked her watch and bit her bottom lip. Paula. She'd visit with Paula. Maybe she could glean some insight about Phillip. Sondra wrinkled her nose as she started the car. Paula could be the key to all of this.

Paula.

Why would Phillip try to pass another woman off as his wife?

Paula.

What didn't he want them to know?

Paula.

Carol.

Maxine.

Tracy.

Paula.

Carol.

Tracy.

Tracy.

"Fuck!" Sondra pounded the steering wheel. "Fuck!"

Tracy had been alive all along.

"That son of a bitch. He lied and lied. To all of us. He killed Carol and said it was Tracy, he said Maxine was Paula and... ugh... dammit." Sondra slammed her foot on the accelerator, racing to get to her sister. Too late, she realized she had skidded through a red light as she saw the blur of lights and heard the sickening crunch of metal right before she passed out.