and that her son was quickly approaching the terrible twos and had been crabby all week? It didn’t help that the furnace had decided to go kaflooey now too. All in all, the last seven days had been hell.
The light changed, and Cissy drove along the panhandle until she reached Stanyan, then headed steadily uphill. Her cell phone rang just as she was taking a steep switchback of a street that climbed Mt. Sutro. Pulling the phone from the side pocket of her purse, she checked the caller ID. She could plug the phone into the slot on her dash and talk hands free, but seeing the number on the LCD caused her to frown.
“Not tonight,” she said aloud. She wasn’t going to deal with Jack—lying, cheating bastard that he was. Oh yeah, and he was still her husband. Well, not for long. Dropping the phone into its pocket, she concentrated on the narrow road that climbed ever upward past elegant old homes built a hundred years earlier and surrounded by manicured gardens. Near her grandmother’s home, she pressed on the electronic gate opener and slowed as the old iron gates groaned open. She pulled into a spot in front of the garage, hit the button again and, once the gates were locked behind her, tried to figure out how she was going to haul B.J., the pizza box, diaper bag, and purse into the garage and upstairs without dropping the baby or ending up with melted cheese and marinara sauce everywhere.
“You win, Beej. You get to go first,” she said, tossing her purse into the oversized diaper bag. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she walked around the car, ignoring the tantalizing scent of garlic and pepperoni as she unbuckled her son. “You can stay with your great-grannie while I run back down here,” she told the boy. She hoisted him onto the same hip she used to nudge her car door closed. Rubbing her nose into his ear, she heard him giggle. “Come on.”
Sometimes it was a real headache to visit Eugenia when the staff had the night off. It would be so much easier for Cissy to spend time at the old mansion when someone else was here to help with the baby. Then there wouldn’t be the problem of dinner, or the guilt that if she didn’t show up the old woman would be disappointed.
Carrying B.J., who was making loud smacking noises with his lips just to hear himself, she walked along a brick path through tall rhododendrons and ferns that still dripped from the rain that had stopped over an hour earlier. This old house, where she had grown up, held a lot of memories. Maybe too many. Some good and a lot that weren’t, but the brick, mortar, and shake walls, peekaboo dormers and sharp gables had endured two earthquakes and generation after generation of Cahills. For well over a hundred years it had stood on the slopes of Mt. Sutro, offering up commanding views of the city and the bay. Cissy didn’t know if she loved the old house or hated it.
Oh, get over yourself, she thought, inserting her key into the old lock.
“Helloooo,” she called as the door opened. “Sorry I’m late, but…Oh God!” She bit back a scream and turned away, hiding her son from the sight of her grandmother lying on the marble floor, blood pooling beneath her head. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” she whispered. She dropped her keys and the diaper bag, then, still holding B.J. close, fished in her purse for her phone. She was trembling all over, her fingers scrabbling for her cell. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she said over and over as she found the phone and punched out 9-1-1.
Beej, picking up on her stress, began to howl. Bracing herself, Cissy placed him on the bench on the porch. “Sit here for just a second, honey,” she instructed.
“No!” he screamed and began scrambling down as she hurried inside.
“Gran!” Bending down on one knee, Cissy reached to her grandmother’s neck, her fingers searching for a pulse, the phone pressed to her ear. She felt nothing beneath her fingertips, no sign of a heart pumping. “Oh, Gran, please be okay.” Her stomach cramped, and she thought she might be sick.
“Nine-one-one, police dispatch.”
“Help! I need help!” Cissy yelled. “It’s my grandmother!”
“Ma’am, please state your name and the nature of your emergency.”
“There’s been an…an…accident. A horrible accident. My grandmother fell down the stairs! She’s hurt. Bad. There’s blood everywhere. Oh God, I think she might be dead! Send someone quick. Oh God! Oh God, I can’t find a pulse!”
“What is your address?”
“Send someone now!”
“I need the address and the name of the victim.”
“It’s…it’s…” Cissy rattled off the address as she tried again to find a pulse, to hear even the shallowest drawing of breath. “My grandmother’s Eugenia Cahill. Oh, please send someone…. Hurry!” She glanced over her shoulder, out the door, and didn’t see her son sitting on the bench. “B.J.!” she yelled, panicking.
“Ma’am. What is your name?”
“Cissy Holt…er, Cissy Cahill Holt. I was coming over here to dinner, and oh, sweet Jesus, I found Gran, and now my son…Please just hurry!”
“A patrol car has been dispatched. If you could stay with the victim—”
“I have to find my son!” She hung up and yelled, “Beej!” But there was no answering response from a tiny voice. “B.J.! Where are you?” Frantic, Cissy jogged outside to the dark night where the rain was starting to fall again. There was nothing to do for her grandmother. Eugenia was dead. Cissy knew it. But her child…Oh God, where was he? He couldn’t have gotten far. She’d let him out of her sight for only a split second. “B.J.!” Panic gripped her to her very soul as she searched the night-darkened grounds. She tried to sound calm when inside she was out of her mind with worry. “B.J.? Honey? Where are you?” She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, the sheer terror. “Beej?” Dear God, where could he have gone so quickly? The gate was locked…right? It had slammed shut behind the car.
Or had it?
“No,” Cissy whispered, running down the walk. New panic seized her. “B.J.! Bryan Jack! Where are you?”
In the distance, sirens screamed. “Hurry, damn it,” Cissy said, her heart pounding, her mind black with fear. Don’t panic. He’s here, you know he’s here. He’s just as scared as you are. Calm down. Forget that you just saw your grandmother dead, forget that you might have prevented the accident if you had been here on time, forget that your mother, the psycho-bitch, has escaped from prison, and just FIND B.J.!
Chapter 2
She couldn’t believe she’d actually gotten away with it!
Adrenaline sizzled through her blood.
When the old woman had finally looked at her, she’d almost lost it, but somehow she’d found an inner strength to go through with her plan.
Now, as the windshield wipers slapped away the rain, her heart drummed a million miles a minute. Triumphant, it was all she could do to ease off the accelerator of her Taurus. She couldn’t afford a speeding ticket, or any kind of interest from the police. Not now.
Calm down. You can savor this later….
Her gloved fingers curled over the steering wheel, but she couldn’t quite put aside, not even for an instant, the thrill of the kill and that moment, right before she’d pushed the old woman over the railing, that precise, magnificent moment of recognition when Eugenia had made eye contact with her.
