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Tilda woke up in her truck and looked around. Where was Nicholas? She looked down at her clothes and saw blood on them. Then she remembered she’d killed Constance and her daughter. She smiled smugly. She looked out of the truck window and noticed she was in a small thicket of trees off a secondary road. It was pitch black outside. How in the world did I get here?
She pulled up her sleeve and looked at her watch. The face on her watch was bloodied, and she couldn’t tell the time. She wiped the blood off on her jeans and looked again. It was late - after ten o’clock. She cut the interior lights on in the truck and searched for her phone. She found it on the floor, and immediately dialed Nicholas's number, but the number rang and rang with no answer. She cursed the phone, threw it back on the floor and beat her fist against the steering wheel. Where in the hell is he?
He should be ready to go celebrate with me. I’ve done what he asked me to do. She sat there for a few minutes and realized how cold she was. It was amazing that she hadn’t frozen to death. How long have I been asleep? She picked up the phone off the console and called Nicholas again. It went straight to voicemail. Rage spread through her body. Either he’s not taking my calls or he is out of juice. She sat in the car willing herself to be calm and not overreact.
She leaned her head back and relived her afternoon. It had been glorious. A perfect day. She savored the quiet in the truck and noticed her head didn’t hurt. Her brain was quiet. There were no voices telling her what to do, and for this, she was imminently grateful. She closed her eyes to think and savor the darkness and her hiding place.
Her phone rang and the sound jerked her out of solitude. The digital readout displayed her home number. It was Wilbur. Tilda answered the phone on the second ring, her voice low and sexy. "Hello, honey, she murmured. “Betcha wondering where I am," she added with a half laugh.
"Of course, I'm wondering where you are," Wilbur growled. "You told me you were going to Walmart to pick up a few items. That was hours ago. Where’ve you been?” he asked with fear in his voice.
Tilda pictured him, his eyes squinted, his face furrowed in anger, and the unruly shock of hair falling across his forehead. He was irate and disgusted with her. If she were sitting across from him or face-to-face, she doubted he’d even look at her. She decided to wait a few moments and let him stew in his own juices.
"Tilda, are you there?" This time Wilbur's voice was louder and more insistent. "Where are you? Tell me right now," he demanded in an angry voice.
Tilda sniffed loudly and manufactured crocodile tears that actually slid down her face. She said with a half sob, "Honey, why are you so mad at me? All I did was go to Walmart, and I ran into an old friend ... you remember her— Sally Jean Shoemaker from church? From a long time ago? She was in charge of the Wednesday night dinners," she prodded softly.
Wilbur remained silent.
"Wilbur, honey. Please talk to me,” Tilda pouted. “You know it upsets me when you don't answer me,” she whispered with hurt in her voice, “Please answer me, honey. I haven't done anything wrong." She sobbed into the phone. Silence. She knew she was getting to him. She smiled to herself. I'm such a good actress. The crocodile tears flowed.
"You left hours ago. Why didn’t you call me?" Wilbur’s voice was softer. Tilda thought he sounded contrite.
Tilda smiled. She’d known she’d be able manipulate him. "Why, honey, you were at church. I didn't want to call you and interrupt you during your vestry meetin’. All I did," she began sobbing again. "All I did was go out for pizza with Sally Jean. It's been so long since I've seen her, and we had five years of catchin’ up to do. I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't mean to make you mad, I really didn't," she said in a mournful voice as she choked back a sob.
"Why didn't you call me?" he asked, his voice cold. “The weather’s awful, and the roads are treacherous. You should’ve called,” he insisted.
Tilda signed. "Honey, I was gettin’ ready to call. I just left the pizza restaurant a few minutes ago. We talked and talked and talked and lost track of time,” she said in her best contrite voice.
Wilbur again remained quiet. She knew he was contemplating her explanation.
Tilda continued. “We were just sittin’ there drinking coffee and joshing just like it was yesterday. Please don't be mad at me. You have no reason to be mad at me," she said a hint of anger in her voice.
"Have you seen Dr. Smirkowitz?" Wilbur asked her.
Tilda's heart jumped. "Of course not. I haven't seen the doctor since early this afternoon. Why’d you ask?"
"Because some foreign man with an accent called here looking for Nicholas Smirkowitz. He said he had a dental emergency, but I'm not so sure. It sounded fishy to me." Wilbur’s voice exploded. “I think he was up to no good. And he is looking for you too, Tilda."
Tilda took a deep breath. What the hell was going on? Wilbur was really pissed. "Honey, why would a man, particularly a foreign man, be looking for me? I don't know any foreign men, except a few that are patients at the office."
Wilbur exploded. "I’ve no idea, but I can tell you this, the man was up to no good, and he's been looking for you as well Dr. Smirkowitz." His voice was rigid. He was as angry as Tilda had ever known him to be.
Tilda was quiet and thoughtful for a few moments. "Well, I’ve no idea who this is, but I should be home in a little while. But first, I'm going to go by the office and check to see if everything is all right. You know Dr. Smirkowitz keeps a lot of medicine and anesthetics and painkillers in his office. We couldn't handle it if someone broke in and stole something."
"No, hell no. I want you to come home right now, Tilda. I mean it.” Wilbur said in a frustrated voice. “I demand you come home."
"What? Honey, honey, I can't hear you? You're cracking up on me," Tilda said with a sly smile. "What, what did you say? You’re all garbled, and I can’t hear you. I think I might be out of cell service ‘cuz I only have one bar. But I'll be home after I check the office. Love you, Wilbur. Bye."
Tilda clicked off her cell and smiled to herself. I'm so smart. She headed to the office to take a shower and change her clothes. She smiled to herself when she thought of how wonderful it would be if Nicholas was there waiting for her.