in prison where he belonged. Priscilla held her tongue, all the while wondering how Lizzie could be this dumb. How did any woman get caught in the manipulative hands of a dangerous man? Priscilla sighed. Hadn’t she herself fallen into the same trap with Dwayne? The injuries her ex-husband inflicted had scarred her permanently.
Priscilla also wished she’d never told Lizzie about her work with Celeste or that Celeste was even in the area. She had shared that information when she thought she could trust Lizzie. She had actually thought Lizzie would be happy for her and the positive role she played at the safe house. Whatever had made Pricilla think she could rely on her wild friend?
Suddenly Priscilla was concerned about what Lizzie had told Chad about the safe house and Celeste. Surely he wouldn’t think Celeste would help him. Besides, it seemed he certainly had Lizzie to aid and abet him, anyway.
“Priscilla, I’ll make this very clear.” Lizzie spat the words out. “You have until Saturday evenin’ to decide whether you’ll help me get Chad out.” She paused when Tess brought the beer.
“Finished with the pizza?” Tess asked. She eyed the untouched plate and half-filled glass of beer in front of Priscilla.
“Yes,” Priscilla answered before Lizzie could.
Tess cleared it away. “Can I get anything else for you two? Some dessert, maybe?” She took little care to mask her annoyance, no doubt wanting to get on the road rather than catering to the last two lingering patrons.
Both Priscilla and Lizzie shook their heads. They never took their eyes off each other.
“I’ll get your check,” Tess said, eagerly snatching water glasses and condiments from the table.
Priscilla forced a nod and smiled at Tess. Surely she’d like to go home early on such a miserable night. Who wouldn’t?
“We go on Sunday,” Lizzie finished her interrupted scenario.
“You’re crazy if you think you are any different from all of Chad’s other victims.” Priscilla couldn’t believe how gullible Lizzie was. What a reminder. Hadn’t she been the same way with Dwayne?
“He’s only been convicted of one murder. Susan Mitchell. And that was an accident.” Lizzie sounded convinced. “It was nothing. It was a lover’s quarrel that got outta hand because they were high.”
Priscilla inspected the paper napkin she had shredded into several pieces. “Have you forgotten the fact that Susan had been raped and stabbed over and over, like Chad’s other victims?” Priscilla remembered the newspaper article about Susan. She was killed in the basement of Chad’s aunt’s house while he was house-sitting. He also never reported the so-called accident to the police. How could Lizzie be blind to such solid evidence?
“It was consensual sex,” Lizzie insisted. Her neck had turned a deep red and the crimson color exploded into her cheeks. “Those other dead women were alleged victims. Chad has never been found guilty of their murders.”
“Come on, Lizzie. It’s the same MO. Besides, Chad has been linked to the other murders. Since he was already serving life without parole, the prosecutor decided not to waste money on more trials.” Priscilla slumped back and crossed her arms over her chest.
Try to change my mind,
her whole posture demanded.
“What of it?” Lizzie gulped down her entire glass of beer.
“Be careful. You could be Chad’s next victim.” Priscilla leaned forward to say this in her best counselor tone.
“Not a chance. What’s more, I’m nothing like those other women—Susan and that Pilar Brookstone. I don’t look like them, either. That’s why Chad loves me. I’m different.”
Priscilla reached across the table and flipped a piece of Lizzie’s hair. “You’ve dyed your hair to resemble theirs.”
“It’s more close to my natural color. You know that.” Lizzie smacked Priscilla’s hand away.
“You’re right—you don’t look like the rest of the victims, except the hair.”
Priscilla also wished she’d never told Lizzie about her work with Celeste or that Celeste was even in the area. She had shared that information when she thought she could trust Lizzie. She had actually thought Lizzie would be happy for her and the positive role she played at the safe house. Whatever had made Pricilla think she could rely on her wild friend?
Suddenly Priscilla was concerned about what Lizzie had told Chad about the safe house and Celeste. Surely he wouldn’t think Celeste would help him. Besides, it seemed he certainly had Lizzie to aid and abet him, anyway.
“Priscilla, I’ll make this very clear.” Lizzie spat the words out. “You have until Saturday evenin’ to decide whether you’ll help me get Chad out.” She paused when Tess brought the beer.
“Finished with the pizza?” Tess asked. She eyed the untouched plate and half-filled glass of beer in front of Priscilla.
“Yes,” Priscilla answered before Lizzie could.
Tess cleared it away. “Can I get anything else for you two? Some dessert, maybe?” She took little care to mask her annoyance, no doubt wanting to get on the road rather than catering to the last two lingering patrons.
Both Priscilla and Lizzie shook their heads. They never took their eyes off each other.
“I’ll get your check,” Tess said, eagerly snatching water glasses and condiments from the table.
Priscilla forced a nod and smiled at Tess. Surely she’d like to go home early on such a miserable night. Who wouldn’t?
“We go on Sunday,” Lizzie finished her interrupted scenario.
“You’re crazy if you think you are any different from all of Chad’s other victims.” Priscilla couldn’t believe how gullible Lizzie was. What a reminder. Hadn’t she been the same way with Dwayne?
“He’s only been convicted of one murder. Susan Mitchell. And that was an accident.” Lizzie sounded convinced. “It was nothing. It was a lover’s quarrel that got outta hand because they were high.”
Priscilla inspected the paper napkin she had shredded into several pieces. “Have you forgotten the fact that Susan had been raped and stabbed over and over, like Chad’s other victims?” Priscilla remembered the newspaper article about Susan. She was killed in the basement of Chad’s aunt’s house while he was house-sitting. He also never reported the so-called accident to the police. How could Lizzie be blind to such solid evidence?
“It was consensual sex,” Lizzie insisted. Her neck had turned a deep red and the crimson color exploded into her cheeks. “Those other dead women were alleged victims. Chad has never been found guilty of their murders.”
“Come on, Lizzie. It’s the same MO. Besides, Chad has been linked to the other murders. Since he was already serving life without parole, the prosecutor decided not to waste money on more trials.” Priscilla slumped back and crossed her arms over her chest.
Try to change my mind,
her whole posture demanded.
“What of it?” Lizzie gulped down her entire glass of beer.
“Be careful. You could be Chad’s next victim.” Priscilla leaned forward to say this in her best counselor tone.
“Not a chance. What’s more, I’m nothing like those other women—Susan and that Pilar Brookstone. I don’t look like them, either. That’s why Chad loves me. I’m different.”
Priscilla reached across the table and flipped a piece of Lizzie’s hair. “You’ve dyed your hair to resemble theirs.”
“It’s more close to my natural color. You know that.” Lizzie smacked Priscilla’s hand away.
“You’re right—you don’t look like the rest of the victims, except the hair.”
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