Jeremy bit his lip. Tracy leaned forward and stared at my sleeves. Opus looked everywhere in the room but at people.
I thought about these three—about Jeremy and Tracy in witness rooms, and Opus cleaning floors. I thought about the crime scenes they had left behind, and the bodies propped up and arranged carefully for me to notice clues. I thought about what they wanted from me personally, and how different that was from what Patrick wanted. I thought about the fact that they were in a rush . . . and that for all the masterful planning they (really, Tracy) had done and all the patient work they (really, Opus) had done to get this offer in front of me on their (really, Jeremy’s) terms, they couldn’t see the fatal flaw in their plan:
Murderers make for really superbad housemates and coworkers.
Also . . . sleep with these guys? Ish.
My traitorous mouth dropped open and I said, “Sleep with all of you?”
“Nuh-no!”
Oh. Because that would be really crazy.
“I—I just want a best friend. Like you have. They’re the ones . . .” Tracy jerked a thumb at her brothers. “Well, you know.”
Ah. Okay, slightly less nauseating. Trouble was, I already had
a best girlfriend. I had caught my limit.
I stood and clapped my hands once. “Hey, guys, I know I should probably try to play along and give you false hope long enough for my fellow agents to show up and rescue me, but I don’t do dishonest very well. So let me say: this is the most fucked-up idea I’ve ever heard!”
Wow, it felt good to swear.
When Jeremy rose and slugged me, it felt not nearly so good. But I was smiling, because I knew who was
Chapter Ninety
Coming to a fistfight near you!
Saturday
Saturday!
SATURDAY!
She takes a punch!
She doesn’t
(ever)
go down!
Ladies and
Fuck the gentlemen
Let me introduce to you our contestants this evening.
In this corner
And that one
And the other one
We have our challengers
Some truly fucked-up
(geese)
motherfuckers who can’t stop killing
and apparently can only count
To three.
(Boooooooooo!)
(Hisssssssss!)
AAAAAAAAND in this corner—
The reeeeeeeeigning champion!
(Raaaahhhh!)
(Yeeeeaaaa!)
The Super-Fed with the Triple Head!
The Lone Detective with All Perspective!
The Power Saw Who Plays the Law
AND SMACKS Y-Y-YOUR
LOWER J J-JAW
F F-FREAK
(Sleep tight.)
AAAAAAAAAAADRIEEEEEEEEEEENE
(Yo Adri-enne!)
JOOOOOONES
That woman looks scared over there.
She must be
(a goose?)
(my daughter?)
(the guy under the lawn mower?)
MY NEXT VICTIM
Come here lady don’t run away, don’t run away from the lawn mower, there’s no point, it will catch you and slice you like a goose
You’ll be cooked
Oh stop running away this is pathetic
This is boring
WOW that hurt
What was that guy behind me swinging?
Some
Kind
Of
Lawn mower?
Nope. Just his fists.
Okay. Let’s stick with this one. Let the woman go
POWWWWWWWWWW that hurt
This guy is a house.
WHAM POW TAKE THAT KABLAM AND THAT SNAP-DAP RAPPADAP FLOAT LIKE A BUTTERFLY STING LIKE A
Why won’t he GO DOWN
POWWWWWWWWW that hurt too.
Getting nowhere.
Getting
(scared?)
bored.
Sister, come take care of this one.
Chapter Ninety-one
I cannot say I was completely thrilled when Adrienne turned things over to me. Granted, she had knocked Jeremy unconscious and chased Tracy out of the room altogether. But this still left Opus, who was very large, very strong . . .
. . . and not even dented by what Adrienne had thrown at him.
I ducked in time to miss the latest blow. What would probably “bore” Adrienne would no doubt knock me out. I was not going to win a slugging match with this man. No, the best I could hope for was . . .
“Pam, get me out of these fucking cuffs!”
George was awake again, flopping like an outraged trout.
“Damn it, Pam, why’d they let you go and not me! It’s not fair! Get a cuff key from Shiro here and let me out. No, Pam—don’t leave me in here with them! I can’t defend—Pam! FUCKING PAJAMA-WEARING SLUT!”
I was glad to see Pam escape from the room. She would be bright enough to call for help.
So we would play the waiting game.
And the best one to get Opus to wait was
Chapter Ninety-two
“Cadence?”
I looked at Opus, this bear of a man with his fist still held up in the air, who recognized me the moment I showed up. I didn’t have to say or do anything: he knew me. He could count the pieces of me and add them together faster than he could a carton of nails. It broke my heart.
“Oh, Opus . . .”
He lowered his fist. “You’re not going to help us.”
“I’m sorry, Opus.”
“No. You aren’t.”
“I am, though. It’s too bad we three can’t live happily ever after with you three. I guess the complete arrogance of assuming I’d leap at the chance to get two lovers and a new best friend isn’t a big deal, huh?”
Opus said nothing.
“I’m not the one who can help you, anyway. It’s going to have to be someone else.”
“There is no one else. No one else to help. We asked for help we ASKED for help but that’s when they said no. They said no, Cadence. They said no and the killing started. That started the killing and I’m TIRED of the killing, Cadence. There’s no one to stop it. Stop it, Cadence, stop it!”
How about if you stop shouting, Opus, how about that?
He put his huge, meaty hands over his ears, dropped to his knees, and began to scream.
I did the only thing I knew how to do. I rushed to him and held him.
(Hey, if my sisters had wanted a more decisive solution, they should have stuck around.)
We stayed like that for some time—I don’t know how long, really—until I heard my boss’s voice behind me.
“Cadence. Step away from him.”
I turned my head and saw Michaela, backed up by every agent and security guard we had—something like two dozen altogether.
I looked around the room. Jeremy was gone. George was still cuffed, but had rolled under the table and stopped speaking. His face was turned away from everyone. He was humiliated and quiet. Nothing had gone right for him here. I almost felt bad for him.
Not as bad as I felt for Opus, though.
“He’s surrendering peacefully,” I reminded Michaela. I felt this might be necessary, as she was brandishing a butcher’s knife.
Opus whimpered and hung his head. His beefy arms flopped uselessly at his sides. Even if he could take on the entirety of BOFFO—and I didn’t doubt he could give us a run for our money—there was no fight left in him.
“Opus. Pam tells me you hurt her.”
“Brother told me. Brother told me to cuff everyone. Everyone in cuffs. Pam in cuffs. George in cuffs. Brother told me.”
“Where is Jeremy?” I asked.
Michaela kept her focus on Opus. “Your brother is gone, Opus. He has apparently fled the scene. So has your sister. Do you understand, Opus? They’ve left you behind. They’ve left you. They made you hurt Pam and they left you.??
?
“They wouldn’t leave me! Sister has a plan. Sister always has a plan. She says it’ll be okay. We’ll be with Agent Jones soon. She’ll be with Shiro. Brother’ll be with Adrienne. I’ll be with Cadence. Sister has a plan. It’ll be okay. Cadence is here. Tell her, Cadence.”
“I’m here, Opus.” I didn’t see the point of breaking his heart further.
Apparently, Michaela was not on the same tender page I was on. “Cadence has nothing more to say to you, Opus. You hurt her friend Pam. Do you know where Pam is right now, Opus? Can you guess?”
He kept staring at the floor. “Pam in the nice clean pajamas. Likes the floor to be superclean. Sleeps on the superclean floor. Clean floor means a clean sleeping bag. Clean sleeping bag means clean pajamas. Clean pajamas means clean Pam. Clean Pam means safe Pam. Pam stays in the office. Things are clean. Floor is clean.”
“Yes, well, right now Pam is huddled on the very clean floor immediately under her desk, and she will not come out for anyone. Not even me. She keeps whispering into her cell phone. She called me, you see, and got me here. But now that I’m here, she still doesn’t feel safe. She’s still whispering into that phone. It’s the only thing she’ll talk to. Even if I get under the desk with her, she won’t acknowledge me.”
Michaela stepped forward, and I realized I had to get out of the way. NOW.
Before Opus could react, she had the knife in his groin. He screamed for half a second, and then the blade had cut his throat.
He slumped to the floor, thudding like a gorilla carcass.
Michaela walked away. The agents dispersed. Someone came in and dragged George away. I stayed at Opus’s side and wept as his blood seeped into the cheap gray
Chapter Ninety-three
Carpet was getting wet. I did not intend to stay long.
“Opus,” I said, slapping him on the cheek. His eyes were still open, and his pupils rolled slightly to take me in. He had no more than five or six seconds left.
“Cadence forgives you,” I told him. “But I do not. And I will hunt down your sister, and your brother. Because they are murderers. Just like you.”
He tried to say something, but he died instead.
Epilogue: The First
So Opus died, and the others fled. I guess what surprised me most, though, was that I didn’t hate them. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to catch them—and would, darn it. Oh yes, you betcha.
But as frightening as they were, they were pitiable as well. At least I was coming to understand the causes and complications of my multiple personality disorder, and even that had taken over two decades for me to even begin to face.
The triplets had never had a chance.
Patrick is indeed hanging around, putting truth to Cathie’s fears. He’s still house hunting and we’re having dinner tomorrow. At least, I think we are. I intend to keep my clothes on this time; but who knows?
Shiro or Adrienne might crash that party, and for the first time in my life, the thought doesn’t fill me with horrified embarrassment. They’re just as much a part of me as my hair and eye color. They look after me like my mother tried to—and I’m not going to disrespect that, or them.
But I swear. I swear on—on—on whatever. If Shiro sticks one more cigarette into my mouth . . .
Well. I guess some threats are best left vague.
Epilogue: The Second
Some threats are best left vague? That sounds like a complete lack of imagination to me—not to mention a lack of commitment.
And as a matter of fact, Patrick has asked me out for breakfast tomorrow. Cadence might pretend not to mind if I crash her party—but I will certainly mind if she crashes mine.
I am dismayed about Opus. Cadence has it right when she figures the triplets had never had a chance. And she is right when she realizes that we had. Those who ignore history are condemned to repeat it—and as far as I am concerned, my sisters and I do not plan to repeat anything.
Do yourselves a favor, Tracy and Jeremy.
Stay lost.
Epilogue: The Third
First comes the Opus
And then comes the
First comes the Tracy
And then comes the
Stutter, then comes the stuttering screams,
all stuttering screams
(he misses his Opus)
then comes the screams, and
The wheels on the bus go round and round,
Round and round,
Patrick’s so brave.
I just want to see,
I just want to look at him
(and save him he is so silly he
thinks I I I need saving! Ha! Ha-ha!
Silly Pillsbury Doughboy!)
And I just want to hurt
Make them bleed
Tracy and Jeremy hurt
They hurt everyone
Their love is poison and we are the flowers
They try to kill
Kill with their love
The garden is not safe was never ever safe the
flowers are dying and here come the geese.
Allll daaaaay lonnnnng.
They had better they had better they
They should they should
Stay away.
and disappear,
Disappear
Disappear
Good-bye, Opus! You shouldn’t have
Shouldn’t have
You should have left Cadence alone.
You should have left us alone.
How do you like being alone? Are you cold in the earth, Opus? Is it wet down there, and damp, and muddy?
Yes yes!
It is.
Warned you.
Won’t warn you again. Do you want company down there in the dark, Opus? Do you do you
Do you?
Make them keep away. Make them. Make them.
Or I will
I will
IIIIIIIII will.
And you won’t be lonesome
And you won’t be cold
But you’ll be dead like Mommy dead like Daddy
Dead dead dead
Round and round.
All day long.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
/> Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Chapter Fifty-six
Chapter Fifty-seven
Chapter Fifty-eight
Chapter Fifty-nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-one
Chapter Sixty-two
Chapter Sixty-three
Chapter Sixty-four
Chapter Sixty-five
Chapter Sixty-six
Chapter Sixty-seven
Chapter Sixty-eight
Chapter Sixty-nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-one
Chapter Seventy-two
Chapter Seventy-three
Chapter Seventy-four
Chapter Seventy-five
Chapter Seventy-six
Chapter Seventy-seven
Chapter Seventy-eight
Chapter Seventy-nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-one
Chapter Eighty-two
Chapter Eighty-three
Chapter Eighty-four
Chapter Eighty-five
Chapter Eighty-six
Chapter Eighty-seven
Chapter Eighty-eight
Chapter Eighty-nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-one
Chapter Ninety-two
Chapter Ninety-three
Epilogue: The First
Epilogue: The Second
Epilogue: The Third
MaryJanice Davidson, Me, Myself and Why?
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