Page 44

This Is No Dream

The sound of Hank grinding coffee beans stirred Pam from her sleep. She opened an eye to check on Elmer, who had lumbered upstairs sometime in the night and was curled up on the floor beside her bed.

Pam hated mornings. She found these early hours as the sun began its creep to the sky to be cold, lonely, and damp. If you ventured outside everything was covered in dew; pesky blades of grass stuck to the soles of your feet. Pam preferred her days to start dry and sunbaked. Even if she somehow was wide awake this early, and tempted to rise, she’d snuggle in bed until the feeling passed. And in these jumbled days since Hank’s death—she’d have to reframe that in her mind—in these jumbled days since Hank fucked off and left her, she’d been snuggled in bed a lot. It was as if her pillow was emitting a magnetic field her head couldn’t break free of.

Wait a minute. Hank was gone. Who was making coffee downstairs? Beneath her pajamas, a light skim of sweat broke out on Pam’s skin. Could it be those Mumbai guys? The last person she wanted to see in her house was Farid, and she’d bet this was just the kind of power move he’d make. Pam carefully put her feet on the floor. Elmer bopped his head up, disturbed, squinting, his fur suffering from a bad case of bedhead. “It would be nice if you had just an ounce of watchdog in you. Just sayin’.”

Elmer flopped back on his side.

Pam looked for her phone to call 911. An intruder was an intruder. She wouldn’t have to explain why the thugs were there. Just get them out. But her heart sank. She’d left her cell downstairs. She should have fought Hank to have a landline. It would have been worth the extra dollars to have it now. She rolled across the bed and tiptoed to the landing. She could probably race down the flight of stairs and straight out the front door. But Elmer would never follow her; he hadn’t even stretched out his groin yet. If she tucked him in a closet, he’d sleep until she came back for him later. She inched back to her bedroom.

“Pam! Are you up yet? It’s Hector.”

Pam fell back against the wall and peed a little.

“I’ll be right down.”

She croaked the words out, squeezed her legs together, and scuttled to the bathroom.

In the middle of hurriedly brushing her teeth, Pam looked hard at herself in the mirror. “I hired a hitman to kill my husband, but Hank outsmarted me and hired the same hitman to fake his death, after he stole millions of dollars from his work, which I’m now trying to recover so a bubble gum–chewing thug in a nice suit won’t kill me and my friends. And now our hitman has broken into my house and is apparently downstairs making me coffee. Yep. This is sixty-two.”

She spat out her toothpaste.

Hector was adding sugar to his coffee. Pam counted four spoonfuls before he stirred. He must work out; he was very trim. He took a sip and nodded toward her patio door. “If I were you, I’d get a broom handle to put in the track at night.”

“Thanks.”

Hector pushed a mug toward Pam. She leaned against the cupboard, took a sip, and heard Elmer’s nails on the floor behind her.

Hector knelt down, and Elmer sauntered toward him, tail wagging. “Hey, buddy.”

He rubbed Elmer vigorously from head to tail. “I’ve never seen a dog like you before.” Elmer leaned into Hector’s legs. “You’re like a character in a Disney movie.”

Elmer caught her eye, and Pam could swear he smiled at her. “People think he’s funny looking, but I like him.”

“I can see why.”

Hector stood. “All right. I have the money.”

Pam’s knees almost gave out with relief. She said, “We need Nancy. She takes care of the money.”

**

Twenty minutes later Pam poured Nancy and Shalisa coffee from the pot Hector had made, and then topped up his mug. She set the sugar bowl on the table and was mesmerized again as Hector stirred spoonf

Nancy put her mug down with a thud. “Okay. Enough already. How did you get the shitheads to give you the money?”

Hector watched the spoon swirl his coffee. “They didn’t want to see you killed.”

After a moment, Shalisa said, “Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever heard? Our husbands who faked their deaths to get away from us, and then canceled their life insurance so we’d be fucked, want to make sure we live long enough to fully understand just how fucked we are.”

She sat back in the kitchen chair and crossed her arms. “Well, if anyone is going to fuck me, it may as well be Andre. At least it won’t last long.”

Pam’s head shot up. “Shalisa! Oh my God. When did you get so crude . . . and bitter?”

She waved Pam off and smiled. “I know. I couldn’t resist.”

Pam noticed Hector dropped another two spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee. Then he referred to some notes on his phone and tapped away on Nancy’s laptop. He explained that Larry had decided to use the Virtual Safety Deposit Box app. Larry had prepared a bank draft that was in Hector’s VSDB. He helped Nancy create her own box, unlocked his with his fingerprint, then transferred the draft from his box to hers and set up her facial recognition.

“I thought it was ten million,” Pam said.

Hector shook his head. “Nope. They say nine is all they got.”

Hector referred back to his phone. “Now, Nancy, you leave it in your box and lock it with your fingerprint and your face. When the casino guy arrives, if he doesn’t have his own box, he creates one, and you upload that document to his. He locks it with his fingerprint and his face. Then he transfers it to their bank account, and you’re done.”

Nancy took notes, although Pam was surprised and relieved it seemed relatively simple.

Hector looked at the women. “It’s the payoff, except a briefcase of cash doesn’t exchange hands, a bank draft is moved virtually.”

Was it even legal? Given the situation, Pam didn’t care.

Hector stood and dropped his phone in his pocket.

Pam said, “Um. About your hundred thousand dollars . . .”

Hector held up his hand. “It’s all right.”

And slipped out the patio door.

Pam watched him disappear through her gate. “Do you think that means what I think it means?”

“That he’s already made us regret it enough?”

Shalisa asked. “I think so.”

Nancy nodded. “I guess even criminals have ethics. I still think we should get back the fifty thousand dollars.”

Shalisa said, “I dare you to ask him.”

Pam’s phone buzzed with a text from Brenda.

“They’re coming tomorrow at four.”

She put her phone down on the counter. “We’ve gotta call Marlene and get her to take the next flight home. Dave was involved. It’s too much to hide from her, and she’ll never forgive us if we get killed without her.”

* * *

“Should we call 911?”

“Maybe. Let’s wait a minute. Her pulse is settling down,”

Shalisa said.

At noon the next day, Marlene was stretched out on Pam’s kitchen’s linoleum floor, her blond hair fanned out as though she were being photographed for a shampoo ad. Shalisa knelt and held her fingertips to Marlene’s wrist and a hand on her forehead. Pam and Nancy were crouched on Marlene’s other side.

Pam stroked Marlene’s arm. “Do you think she’s OD’d?”

“On edibles? I don’t think you can OD on half a gummy,”

Nancy answered.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Pam said.

Nancy rested her hand on Marlene’s shoulder. “I just wanted to give her something to take the edge off. Make her mellow.”

“Well, she’s mellow, all right.”

Pam poked Marlene’s inert arm. “If she were any more mellow, she’d be dead. Oh, wait. Is she waking up?”

Shalisa leaned in and spoke in a soft voice, “Marlene, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re here. You fainted.”

Marlene blinked rapidly. She took a few haggard breaths. She raised her head. Squinting, her eyes darted from Shalisa’s face to Nancy’s and then to Pam’s. “Is Dave still alive?”

Pam closed her eyes for a second and said in a soft voice, “No, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Dave’s not still alive.”

Marlene rested her head back on the linoleum. “That’s too bad. I would have liked it if he was still alive.”

Pam squeezed her arm. “Us too. We would have liked that too.”

Shalisa asked her, “How are you feeling? Can you sit up?”

The women helped Marlene to a cross-legged position on the floor. “I think I peed my pants.”

Nancy said, “Nooo. There were just some melted ice cubes on the floor. That’s all.”

Shalisa glanced down. “Nope. She peed.”

She rubbed Marlene’s back. “Don’t worry. That sometimes happens when people faint. Come on. I’ll take you upstairs, and we’ll get you cleaned up. Then we’ll make some toast, and we’ll fill you in on the rest.”

Marlene nodded, then looked at Pam. “So, they’re alive. Hank, Larry, and Andre are alive. This isn’t a dream?”

Pam sat back on her heels and shook her head. “No, dear. This is no dream.”

* * *

A few minutes later, wearing Pam’s sweatpants and sitting at her kitchen table, Marlene said, “The funerals were fake. You knew they were alive.”

Nancy answered, “No. At the funerals we thought they were dead.”

“But you’d hired a hitman to kill them.”

“Uh-huh.”

Marlene glared at Nancy. “You cried in my arms.”

Then she narrowed her eyes at Shalisa. “I made you a tuna fish casserole.”

“It was very tasty.”

Marlene’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s my mom’s recipe. I can email it to you.”

Shalisa put her hand on Marlene’s wrist. “That’d be awesome. The crushed potato chips on top really made it.”

Marlene took a breath and said, “My heart broke for you guys. How could you do that to me?”

Pam cleared her throat. “It’s complicated.”

Nancy reached out and took Marlene’s hand in hers. “We all had marriage problems. We saw when Dave died, your problems were over. So we wanted that too. But then we realized we’d made a mistake. We tried to call off the hit, but we didn’t know it at the time, but it seems they were already faking their deaths. But none of that matters. We’re all alone now. The four of us. For all intents and purposes, we’re widows too.”

Marlene locked eyes with her. “Give me a minute to run to the drugstore and pick out the Hallmark card for the wife who hired a hitman to kill her husband and then he didn’t end up dead. I’m sure there’s a stack of them if I look hard enough.”

Nancy grimaced and sat back. “We’re still grieving. It’s just a little . . . unconventional.”

Marlene shook her head. “Oh, no, no, no.”

She wagged her finger. “You don’t get to grieve. I’m the only widow here. I’m the only one who deserves any sympathy. You three just have fucked-up marriages. If there’s a funeral casserole in that fridge, it’s mine. You’re not getting any.”

Shalisa said, “Well, not to point out the obvious, Marlene, but you’re also the only one who got any insurance money.”

Marlene gasped. Her jaw dropped; she sat straight in her chair and pointed at Shalisa. “Oh my God. I cannot believe you just said that. I lost my husband! He’s not walking around God-knows-where because he’s trying to get away from me! Dave is dead! He’s not coming back!”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I’m not so sure my Dave was mixed up in any of what you’ve all got going on here. Thugs pulling up to your house and threatening to kill you. Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into here, you can count me out! My Dave would never have put me in danger. He was a wonderful husband and father. He took care of me and my girls.” She reached for a tissue, blew her nose, and covered her eyes.

Pam squinted at her. Then looked at Nancy, who shrugged, and Shalisa, who raised her eyebrows. Apparently, death had made Dave Brand a good husband again. But Marlene was right, she was the only true widow, so Pam spoke gently when she said, “Dave had to be involved, Marlene.”

Marlene took the tissue from her face and shook her head.

Pam continued, “Hank couldn’t have done it alone. It had to be the four of them. Somehow, they got the money from the slot machines. So, it had to be Dave. He’s the only one who worked on them. I’m so sorry, but you didn’t just get Dave’s insurance money when he died. You got his mess too.”

Marlene sat quietly for a moment, then straightened and tucked her tissue in the edge of her bra. She scowled at each of them. “You lied to me.”

The others exchanged uneasy glances and looked to the floor. “That’s not cool. We can’t be doing that.”

They shook their heads and murmured, “No.”

“Seriously, Shalisa.”

She looked from one woman to the other. “As if you’d ever open a yoga studio. You can’t even hold the tree pose. And Nancy running a coffee truck. Who did you think you were kidding? You’re the last person who should be in the service industry. For one thing, you’d never open up on time. For another, you’re so cheap you’d probably buy day-old baked goods and overcharge. You’d have zero stars on Yelp.” Marlene shook her head. “I wasn’t sure exactly what you all were up to, but . . . well, it’s safe to say I never imagined I was financing a mass murder.”

The room was quiet for a moment, and then Marlene added, “Well. I forgive you. Even though you haven’t asked me to, I know you want me to. So I will. We’re in this together. Whatever this is, even if you’ve all lost your minds. We’ll do what we always do. We’ll stick together, and we’ll be okay. We have each other.”

She reached for Pam’s and Nancy’s hands, who in turn grasped Shalisa’s. “That’s what matters.”