Page 152 of Precise Justice

EPILOGUE

The night of January 3rd 1:15 A.M.

“You don’t have to do this, Robbie,” Blake told his son.

It was a cold, dark, moonless night. The two of them were parked on the street a block north of where Priscilla was sound asleep. The air temperature outside, real winter in Minnesota, was plus eight degrees. Fortunately, it was a calm night. No wind at all.

“Yes, I do, Dad,” Robbie replied. “I can’t go on any longer like this. If we’re caught, well, then okay. But if I don’t do this, I know I’ll finish the job I tried on myself.”

“God, I’m so sorry. I should have been…”

“Stop it. We’ve been through that a dozen times. I forgive you. I know what she’s like. She’ll push and push until she gets what she wants. Look at her father. She did it to him. If he had stood up to her, we wouldn’t be sitting here tonight.

“Just take care of the burglary. We’ll even go in through the side door. You know how she sleeps. She won’t wake up.”

They walked along a residential street. Not a single light was on in any house they walked past. Just to be sure, they both wore heavy winter parkas with the hoods pulled up and their faces covered with scarves.

Blake used a pry bar with two sharp tongs on both ends. It worked so well and so quick that Robbie barely heard it. Blake, knowing exactly what to take, moved around the first floor collecting the items.

While he did this, Robbie silently went up the stairs. She knew the house and stairway so well she was able to avoid the ones that creaked and made noise. Inside Priscilla’s bedroom there was just enough ambient light from the street coming through a window for Robbie to see her. Priscilla was on her back, her mouth open and quietly snoring.

Her bed was directly in front of the door. She was on the right hand side, the side closer to Robbie. While standing above her, Robbie remembered wondering if he got this far, could he really do it?

Looking down at Priscilla, remembering whatshe had done, Robbie could feel the blood flooding her ears, making them hot with anger and hatred. In that moment Robbie realized not only could she do it, she would enjoy doing it.

Robbie reached across her to the second pillow. She sat down on the edge of the bed, almost touching her. While holding the pillow in her lap. She stared at Priscilla for several seconds, deciding whether to wake her or just do it. Reaching a decision, she patted Priscilla’s cheek three or four times until she opened her eyes.

“Robbie?” Priscilla groggily asked.

“Hello, Mother.”

“What are you doing? What do you want?”

“I just wanted to wake you so I could say goodbye. So you would know what is happening to you,” Robbie replied.

“What are you talking …”

The rest of what Priscilla wanted to say was muffled and incoherent. Priscilla struggled and even tried to scratch Robbie but she was still wearing the heavy parka. Priscilla scratched at Robbie’s arms but the slick nylon did not stick under her nails.

Robbie watched the LED lit alarm clock next to the bed. Five minutes went by. Priscilla had stopped squirming after two and was completely still after three. Robbie gave it three more, eight minutes total just to be sure.

Robbie stood up, dropped the pillow on the floor and almost spat in her mother’s face. Knowing that spitting on herwould leave DNA, Robbie went to her dresser instead.

Priscilla’s jewelry box was there. Even with what little light she had, Robbie found which pieces to take. Still wearing surgical gloves, she removed the pieces Blake told her to get.

Blake was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. “Everything all right?” he asked Robbie.

“Yes, she’s gone.”

“You okay?”

“Not completely, but we’ll get there. Just remember, I get Dr. Frankenstein.”

“Find Jimmy Smith for me. I’ll take him, the school nurse and the surgeon,” Blake said.

June 2nd

Marc’s desk phone buzzed. He knew what it was for but answered it anyway.