CHAPTER TWELVE
Snitches Get Stiches
Christmas morning was cloudy, and the house was shaken by wind. Julian had risen before the sun, excited to open his presents. She and David had hidden the truth from him so as not to ruin his Christmas. After spending an hour opening presents, David and Julian went back to bed, but Rhema sat in the kitchen waiting.
She had not seen Elsea come back, but she didn’t feel that she had gone against the plan. She was feeling more confident in her ability to manipulate than ever, and she reveled in her smugness. It was what she had done her whole life. It was easy to see the motivations of others, and even though Elsea felt bad about she had done, Rhema could tell that deep down inside she was happy. Elsea finally had the safety that she’d always wanted. This was going to be a new chapter in her life, one where she wasn’t someone else’s doormat. Rhema had liberated her and expected to be treated no less than the savior that she believed herself to be.
She leaned back and breathed in the aroma of her coffee. She was certain that her plan would go off without a hitch. The whole neighborhood would be shaken from this. There were still news crews parked down the street, waiting to see if anything would happen next. The young and the beautiful were always revered, and when they died they were often immortalized. Hannah. The perfect beauty that all young girls aspired to be, cut down in the prime of her life so viciously.
Rhema sat in peace at the thought of Hannah being dead. The phony had finally got what was coming to her. She had always been a bitch, and when Rhema thought about how she had treated Julian, it satisfied her even more.
After Julian turned three, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to be like most children. He had special needs, and Rhema remembered overhearing Hannah teasing him with some of her friends a few weeks back when she came home for Thanksgiving while he played on the driveway with Rhema and David. No one messed with her son.
There was a commotion going on outside, so Rhema left the kitchen table and walked into the living room to see what it was. The neighborhood was helping the Kellys deal with things. People were coming in and out of the Kelly house, bringing food and, Rhema assumed, their most heartfelt condolences. But what did it matter? A Christmas casserole wasn’t going to undo what had been done.
After standing there a few moments, Elsea came from the house carrying a bag of trash out to the curb.
Good, they cut her loose. She smiled and leaned against the wall. Elsea turned and looked over at Rhema’s house. Their eyes met across the distance, and a small smile grew on Elsea’s face. Rhema smiled right back. Elsea walked back up the drive and disappeared into the house.
Rhema went to turn away, but she caught a glimpse of two squad cars out of the corner of her eye. The sirens were not on, but the lights flashed, bouncing red and blue off of the surrounding houses and down the entire block. They slowed in front of Rhema’s house, unable to go further because of all of the cars of people visiting the Kellys lining the street. She watched the officers get out—one stayed at his car and the other started walking, but he didn’t walk to the Kellys. He was walking up her drive to her door.
Rhema cursed under her breath. What did he want? Maybe things didn’t go as she had planned after all, and her blood burned like fire. The bell rang, and Rhema inched her way to the door. She cracked it open, trying to keep the cold air out, and there the officer stood.
“Rhema Clark?”
“Yes,” Rhema said.
“You need to come down to the station immediately,” he said.
“I’ve given you everything I know. What is this about?”
“Ma’am, I’m not at liberty to say, but I need you to come to the station.”
“Well, it would be better if I could just come late—”
“No. Now. Grab your coat.”
“I’m still in my pajamas! And it’s Christmas morning!”
“Grab a long coat, then. Don’t make me ask you again.”
“I need to let my husband know what’s going o—”
“The other officer will fill him in. Come on.”
She reached for David’s heavy winter coat that hung on the coat rack, slipped her bare feet into her winter boots, and followed the officer out of the door. She was more than ashamed to be escorted to the cop car. It reminded her of her past, of her own secrets, and she feared them being exposed more than anything. It was as though every evil deed she had ever committed was written on her face and what once was a distant memory was more present than ever.
While walking to the car, the only thing that she could think about was Elsea. Had she ratted her out? Did she go against the plan? Against her? If so, Rhema knew that she would regret it. She would make her regret it.