Lottery (10 page)

“I love you,” she whispered and unlocked the door.

“I love you, too,” Caleb said, turned and started to walk down the street.

“That bitch McKenzie has got to go,” Caleb heard, and his heart sped up. “Excess baggage, O’Toole,” Weber told him.

It was ten-thirty and, except for a couple who were sitting side-by-side on a bench, Huntington Park was desolate. Caleb glanced at his watch. He’d been waiting for McKenzie for almost thirty minutes.

Across the street was the stately Grace Cathedral. The tall windows in the towers were reverently lit up, illuminating the intricate stained glass. God, he hoped McKenzie would agree to his plan. The last thing Caleb wanted was trouble.

Anxious, he searched for her. Maybe McKenzie decided to go to the police … no … she needed her drugs more than notoriety. Maybe she’d died from an overdose. He sat down on the ledge
that surrounded the Fountain of the Tortoises. The massive fountain in the middle of the park displayed slender bronze male figures, their delicately molded bare feet touching the lifelike dolphins that spewed water onto large conch shells. The constant monotonous trickle of water added to his anxiety. He took another quick look around. Where the hell was she?

“O’Toole.” He heard and turned abruptly.

“Damn, you scared me,” Caleb said to McKenzie.

“Didn’t think I’d be here?” Her mouth parted, revealing a dark, rotted front tooth. Swathed in a long black rain coat that dwarfed her petite frame, the split-ends of her hair stuck out from underneath the same paisley scarf she’d worn last week. Even though it was dark, sunglasses covered her eyes. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Listen,” Caleb started, before they’d reached the edge of the park. “I’m not going to give you what you want.”

She stopped walking. “Really?” McKenzie asked flippantly. “Then we have nothing to talk about.” She turned on her heels and started to hurry away.

“Wait.” Caleb caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and whirled her around. “I’m willing to help you, just not support your addiction.”

“Cut the crap.” She jerked her arm out of his grip. “I don’t need your fucking pity. When I tell the cops, you’ll be feeling sorry for yourself.”

“If I give you money, you’ll end up smoking it or shooting it into your veins. I’ll put you through treatment, set you up in an apartment—”

“Leave me the hell alone. You’re going down.” She twirled around quickly, almost losing her balance.

McKenzie was high. How the hell could he reason with a crack head? “Just listen to what I have to say.” Caleb pleaded, sprinting after her. “I want to help.”

“Fuck you,” she shouted, racing down the street, her hands pushed into the pockets of the black coat.

Christ, she was going to turn him in. Heart pounding in his temples, Caleb started to follow her. Would she tell the police that he had had an altercation with Weber? Or that Caleb had killed him for the lottery ticket? That wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. If Caleb gave her what she wanted, however, he’d be opening Pandora’s Box, and McKenzie would never leave him alone.

Head down, he stayed almost half a block behind her. No longer hearing the sirens or the streetcars, Caleb’s focus was on her. Somehow, he had to make her listen.

Staying in the shadows, he watched her turn east on Taylor. Quickening his step, Caleb didn’t want to lose sight of her. What if she was going to the police station? No … the station wasn’t in this direction. She’d probably go back to her apartment—or wherever the hell she was staying and call them.

In the Tenderloin now, which was in the worst crime suburb in San Francisco, Caleb wasn’t in his comfort zone. Creepy-looking people lurked on every corner. Tattoos of snakes with multiple heads slithered up arms; swastikas decorated shaved heads; red, blue, and green hair; teeth missing; he prayed he’d make it out of here alive.

He saw her turn right on Union. A sign with large letters that spelled out “Occupy” hung from the deck of a second-floor apartment. Heart in his throat, Caleb wished to hell McKenzie would get to wherever she was going so he could reason with her.

Turning at the Original Joe’s Italian Restaurant, he peeked around the edge of the building and saw her turn into an alley. Walking faster, Caleb peered after her and saw McKenzie open a door and disappear behind it.

He walked swiftly and quietly past a couple of druggies; their heads pressed into the brick walls that were covered in graffiti; their eyes rolled back in their heads. When he reached the door she’d opened, he put his ear against it. When Caleb didn’t hear anything, he turned the knob slowly, finding it unlocked.

Opening the door a couple of inches, he cautiously peered inside. Squinting to see through the dark room that was dimly lit by the streetlights filtering through the broken window panes, he made out a figure sitting on the floor. A flicker from a lighter and Caleb saw the pipe. He had hoped he could get to McKenzie before she smoked more dope.

Opening the door wide enough to step inside, he noticed a heap of clothing wadded up in a corner—paper sacks littered the floor. He shivered when he imagined rats spying on him from the corners, and bats hiding in the rafters.

“McKenzie?” he whispered, smelling a rancid odor.

“Who’s there?” McKenzie slurred.

“It’s me. Caleb.” He knelt down next to her.

She tilted her head back, drew in a breath and spit in his face. “
Getthefuckoutahere
,” she said as one word.

His hand immediately clenched into a tight fist, he had to keep his temper in check so he could convince her. “Listen to me,” Caleb said, wiping the disgusting spittle off his face. “I’ll help you get out of here.”

She waved an arm over her head. “Goin’ to jail. You
kilt
him.”

“I didn’t kill anyone and I’m not—”

“Help!” McKenzie screamed, dropped to her hands and knees and started crawling rapidly away from him across the filthy floor. “He’s gonna kill—”

Enraged, Caleb lunged at her. He slapped one hand over her mouth, his other hand wrapped around her throat. “Shut up!” Why the hell wouldn’t she listen?

When her teeth slashed into his hand like a rabid dog, Caleb let go, letting out a muffled cry. He felt the warm blood ooze from the bite.

“Fuckin’ kill the bitch, man,” Weber ordered.

“Help,” she cried out wildly, trying to scramble away from him. “
Heeeellppp me
!”

“Damn it, shut the fuck up.” He jumped on top of her, taking them both down into the grime, the dust filling his nose and mouth.

“
Aarrrgggh
,” McKenzie gushed when her breath was knocked out of her.

Seeing red, Caleb put his full weight on her back, and slammed her head into the floorboard as she writhed violently beneath him. “I told you to shut the fuck up,” he coughed out.

“She's going to ruin your life!” Weber shouted.

Caleb quickly turned her over, grasped a clump of her hair in his hand and smashed her head down into the floor again. “You’re going to fuckin’ listen to me, bitch.” Terror in her eyes, she opened her mouth wide, and started to cry out a high-pitched scream. Caleb slapped his hand over her mouth.

Keeping her mouth covered, he patted around the floor with his other hand looking for anything he could use to gag her when he found her scarf.

“I’m going to let go, okay?” He told her calmly.

Trembling, she nodded slightly, the expression on her face terrified.

“And I don’t want you to scream. I just want you to listen.” Perspiration dripping, Caleb slowly took his hand off her mouth.

“Help!” McKenzie shouted. Bucking her hips and flailing her arms wildly, she turned over, and tried to pull herself out from underneath Caleb.

“Now,” Weber ordered angrily.

Caleb caught her leg and dragged her backward, the sound of her fingernails like nails on a chalkboard scraped across the wood. He flipped her over, and smashed the palm of his hand into her forehead. It wasn’t difficult to overpower her fragile, emaciated body. Swiftly, he wrapped the scarf around her neck and pulled the ends together tightly. McKenzie gasped, frantically clawing at the scarf with her fingers. The more she fought, the more Caleb’s rage intensified.

“I told you not to scream,” Caleb said through clenched teeth, glaring into McKenzie’s blood-shot bulging eyes. Using all his strength, he pulled tighter … her mouth dropped open as she tried to gasp in air.

He twisted and tightened the scarf, watching her face turn from a fierce red to a pale white. “Stupid bitch! You just wouldn’t listen.”

When she was no longer moving, Caleb let go of the scarf. The sound of her head when it hit the wood floor resounded through the room.

Caleb wiped the sweat off his brow. Rising to his knees, the room was spinning. He looked down and saw her head had rolled to the side—her arms limp—her legs sprawled in different directions. Suddenly, his anger was replaced by fear. He stood slowly, shaking his head back and forth slowly. He held out his trembling hands that had squeezed the life out of her and stared at them. “No,” he said, stumbling backward. “Oh, God, please no.”

“Get the hell out of there now!” Weber told him.

Caleb bent over from the waist, covering his ears with his hands. “Shut up.” The lump in his throat was so large, it was difficult to swallow.

He couldn’t think. He was going to be sick. All Caleb had wanted to do was to help McKenzie. Shit. What had he done?

He stumbled toward the door and stopped when he felt the aching remnants of her bite. She’d drawn blood. Even though his thinking clouded, he knew he had to get rid of any evidence that would lead back to him. Panicked, his eyes searched the room until he spotted a bottle of water on a window sill.

Trembling, he knelt over her, and poured the clear liquid over her mouth. The scarf still in his hand, he wiped off her face. How could he do such a terrible—

“Christ, O’Toole, get moving,” Weber advised.

Quickly, he pushed the empty water bottle into his back pocket, and glanced back at her lifeless body when he reached the door. It was over, and there was nothing he could do to bring McKenzie Price back.

Slowly, Caleb turned the door knob and peeked out. Not seeing anyone, he frantically wiped the inside and outside handles off with the scarf.

Turning in the opposite direction from how he’d come into the alley, he kept his head down. He had to get rid of the scarf … and the water bottle …

Jesus Christ. Caleb couldn’t kill anyone … it was Weber who’d done this.

ustin was sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen with Baileigh on his lap.

“When’s Mommy coming home?” The child’s trusting blue eyes looked up at him for answers.

He stroked her light brown hair that fell softly to her shoulders. “Tomorrow. We’ll bring Mommy home tomorrow.”

Baileigh’s bottom lip stuck out and her chin started to quiver. “But I want her now.”

Justin and Jenee had agreed before Baileigh was born that if their children ever asked questions, they would tell the truth. So far, Baileigh hadn’t asked why her mother was in the hospital.

“How ‘bout we go see Mommy today?” Justin smiled. “Take her some pretty flowers?”