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Ruby

It was dark when Ruby pulled up outside the Jacksons’ house.

The family were safely gone. They weren’t slumming it either. Earlier that day, Ruby had helped Alison check in to a mini-suite at the Four Seasons, Downtown. Even though John was still on a salary, it wasn’t what he usually brought in every month. They had savings, which they had relied on to a degree, but Alison was expecting an inheritance now, so the Four Seasons was the natural choice.

With her last quarter of a million gone, Ruby had about eighteen grand in her account. That wouldn’t last long when she was on the run. No Four Seasons for Ruby. It would be most nights in her second-hand car, which she still had to buy, and the occasional stay in a Motel-6 when she wanted to shower and feel a bed under her bones.

But none of that could put Ruby off the thought of escaping the city. The road. A new name. A new life. Anywhere she wanted.

The thought of it gave her peace.

She closed the rear door of the panel van and hauled her backpack and some of her supplies up the steps and into the Jacksons’ hallway. Two more trips unloaded most of what she needed. The street was quiet, even though it wasn’t late. She was thankful for the peace.

Ruby grabbed a plastic ground sheet and unrolled it in the hallway. Straightening the corners. She placed a bag of plaster on one corner. The leg of the hall table on another. For the last two corners she just used some Scotch tape. Two blowflies buzzed overhead. She could hear their wings beating against the painting. On her hands and knees, Ruby flattened out the sheet.

Then stood.

And stared at the painting of the red priest.

He stared right back at her. His face had contorted into something altogether demonic. Rage and anger pouring out of the picture. The house was silent.

Ruby’s mind was a hurricane of noise.

The red priest was screaming. Crying. Howling.

The first she knew of the blood vessel that burst in her nose was when something warm trickled down her top lip, over her bottom lip and onto her chin.

She couldn’t stop now.

This was her chance.

Ruby took hold of the painting, gripping the sides, and pushed up, levering it off the wall. She stepped back and placed it, face up on the sheeting.

The noise was deafening. She stumbled, held the side of her head. A ringing noise now.

And then . . .

Suddenly . . .

Silence.

Something had driven the priest away.

Instinctively, Ruby’s head snapped to the side and she stared at the closed front door.

She heard the doorbell again. That was the sound she’d heard just a moment ago.

Someone was at the front door.

No!

She’d waited so long for this time alone in the house. Time to get rid of the red priest. Time to solve the problem that had haunted her day and night. Time to get away.

There was no door knocker, but whoever was on the other side of the door wanted in. She heard a fist thumping the wood.

Bang!

Three times.

Hard. Fast.

Insistent.

Ruby couldn’t draw attention to herself or her presence in the house. Not now.

Please, Jesus, not now!

The neighbors would hear the knocking. There had been a murder on this street. They were on edge. Watchful.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Louder now. She couldn’t ignore it. This person wasn’t going away. The lights were on in the kitchen and hallway. They knew someone was home.

Ruby had no choice but to open that door and fast.

She moved toward the door, glanced over her shoulder at the sheeting on the floor and the painting in the center.

She could always make up a story. She was just cleaning the frame. Yes, she could say that.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Ruby took hold of the door lock and began to turn it . . .