Illusion of Luck 29

Sandy waited in his car while Rebecca went in to pay for the repairs on her Lincoln. When she walked out, he rolled down his window.

“Okay. I’m good to go.” She turned and started to walk away, but then turned back to him. “Now remember: Friday night, seven sharp. Don’t be late.”

“I’ll make it a point to be early,” said Sandy.

“Oh, I get it. You’ll come early hoping to catch me before I’m dressed.”

“No, no. I didn’t mean—“

“—well, if you get there too early, Buddy, you’ll just have to wait in the car for a while.”

“Okay. I will ring your doorbell at exactly seven o’clock.”

“That’s more like it.”

She leaned in close and said, “Seriously, thanks. It’s been an adventure.” She surprised him with a kiss on the lips, and walked away before he could think clearly enough to say any­thing.

Wow, he thought. Thanks, Greg and Cynthia.

Rebecca had missed talking to her dad for the past couple of days. Then she realized it had only been one day. But when you’re awake almost around the clock it seems like more.

Soon after his death, she developed a habit of talking to her dad while she drove. His old car had been the place they had spent much of their time together—especially when she worked with him.

“I wish you could meet him, Dad. He’s really a nice guy—but not too nice. He’s kinda rough around the edges. Sort of like you. And I really believe I can trust him. I know—I’ve said that before and been wrong. But I’m smarter now. I know what to look for. But I’ll be careful, so don’t worry.”

She picked up her cell phone and called her office.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Wendy. Good morning.”

“Morning, Rebecca.”

“Listen, I’ve had a crazy weekend. And I’m way behind on sleep. So, I need you to reschedule all my appointments for today.”

“Okay. No problem. But we got a scary voice mail this morning.”

“Some husband who’s mad because I shot pictures of him doing his girlfriend, huh?”

“I guess so. But this one’s weird. It rhymes.”

Rebecca was afraid she knew what that meant. But how and why?

“I wrote it down. I’ll read it to you.”

You spoiled my plans for her, you know;
You had to save the day.
So, now my body is sinking low,
Halfway down to the grave.
But be assured I’ll find my rest
In peaceful revenge sublime
Just to know in my heart, your body
Will be buried under mine.

If there had been any doubt as to the author, that last line clinched it for Rebecca:

Your body will be buried under mine.

Barry Undermine.

Rebecca felt a cold chill creeping up her spine, but couldn’t stop it. The shivers spread across her shoulders and up the back of her neck.

She wondered how he even knew her name. Then it hit her: he had Melanie’s business card. And the card had Rebecca’s name on it too. He might have heard Greg or Sandy call her by name. He probably figured that was how Greg tracked him down—with the help of Melanie’s partner.

“Don’t erase that message, Wendy. I might want to let the police hear it.”

“Okay.”

Rebecca could not think straight. She was upset by the mes­sage, but too tired to deal with it. If she slept until the next morning, that was fine with her. She wouldn’t even bother to set the alarm clock.

She didn’t really think Larry wouldn’t try to slip in during the night and stab her to death. But, at the very least, he’d give her nightmares.

**********

Sandy made it to the campus just in time for his 9:00 AM music theory class.

“New look, Mr. Vockelman?” said the smart aleck on the back row.

It was Sandy’s second day without shaving and his third day in the same clothes. If his students thought he looked bad, they certainly wouldn’t want to smell him.

He opened his grade book and picked up a pencil. “So, I take it you’d like a big fat ‘F’ for today, Mr. Kelley?”

“Uh, no Sir. I was just kidding…Sir.”

“Well, Mr. Kelley, I am impressed. That’s the most ‘sirs’ I’ve heard from you all year.”

The class laughed.

The students might have thought Sandy would be in a bad mood, judging by his appearance. But they didn’t know about Rebecca.

“Alright. Time for a little melodic dictation.”

They got their staff paper and pencils ready to go.

Melodic dictation is an exercise wherein the teacher plays a melody on the piano while students listen and attempt to write it down.

Normally, Sandy played from a book of melodies. Today he was making it up as he went along. Would he be able to remember what he had played so he could grade their papers? Hopefully. But he was so lost in his newfound joy that he just didn’t care. Everybody would get an ‘A’ today.

**********

Larry’s perfect plan to win Cynthia had failed miserably. But he saw it as only a temporary setback. He might not ever win her heart, but he would win her body. If she didn’t give it up willingly, he would just take it.

What bothered him most was the thought that Cynthia might be somehow immune to his powers of luck. Ever since high school, ever since the big game, Lucky Larry had always seen things work out well for him.

When he had decided to drop out of college after just one year, his parents were very upset with him. But he tried to make amends by taking over the yard work and promising to get a job. He had even helped his dad work on his car.

It had been unfortunate that Larry had not fully tightened the brake lines though. His father had been unable to navigate the curve in the road and had rammed into a telephone pole at 65 mph. The police said he might have survived the crash if his seat belt had been functioning properly.

Then there was dear old Mom. Larry had been talking with her at the top of the stairs when she lost her balance. It was the broken neck that had killed her. He had made a heroic effort to catch her when she started to fall. He could still remember the look in her eyes as her fingers slipped through his, just before she tumbled down the long staircase. She seemed to be saying: ‘Don’t worry, Larry, you will inherit a small fortune. We planned ahead. We thought of you.’

He sat down in the chair and took off his shoes and socks. He needed a good nap before making the long drive. Taking a plane was out of the question. The authorities might already be watching for him.

Greg and Cynthia would be arriving at Walt Disney World soon. They would check in to the Grand Floridian Resort. And then, no doubt, she and Greg would consummate the marriage. The thought of it made him sick. So, he tried not to dwell on it.

The perfect couple would enjoy a blessed night of bliss. And the next day, he might even let them have some fun with Mickey for a while. But soon he would intervene. He would find an opportunity to snatch Cynthia away again—just when they thought they were safe.

He stood up, took off his shirt and pants, and laid them across the chair. Then he picked up the yearbook and studied the picture. She was so much prettier than the other cheerlead­ers. No surprise that she had been elected captain.

He took off his underwear and threw it on top of his other clothes and admired his naked body in the full-length mirror. He checked himself out from several angles. In his mind, he was muscular and well-toned.

He slipped between the sheets and turned off the lamp. The drapes blocked out most of the sunlight. For the first time since the start of puberty, he would skip his bedtime self-gratification ritual. Because he knew his dreams would be vivid. And that when he woke up, the sheets would be wet from virtual love­making. No matter how exhausted he was, he knew these would be the most sex-filled dreams ever. How could they not be? He was sleeping in her bed.