Nancy Bartholomew: Stand By Your Man

"Okay, it's a big circular table with chairs around one half of it, and like a half-circle, booth-seat-type thing around the other half, so it's built into the wall. Nosmo sits in the smack dead center against the wall. I sit to his right. Vernell was on his left." She closed her eyes, thinking again. "Christine's boyfriend sat next to Vernell 'cause they knew each other. Christine sat next to him. When Bill and Robbie came, they took the chairs that were left, across from Nosmo. Okay? Can I go on now?"

Bess and I nodded. But anything that came after this was going to be gravy. I had what I needed. I knew who took Vernell's gun.

"So anyway, after breakfast, Nosmo and Vernell had business to do, so they dropped me off at the condo. Nosmo was getting his oil changed and he said he wanted to look at some property with Vernell, so they took his truck."

"Was Vernell drinking?" Bess asked.

Pauline shrugged. "Well, he told Nosmo he was on the wagon, but Nosmo said they needed to celebrate. We were all sitting in the front seat of Vernell's truck. Nosmo brought out a bottle of Jack and said Vernell should take just one hit, you know, to signify their friendship."

I was having an awful feeling. I was beginning to see all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place and I didn't like it at all.

"So then what happened?" Bess asked.

Pauline shrugged. "I don't know. Nosmo told me to leave so him and Vernell could talk. I came home." She began to cry, real tears this time, that rolled down her face and dripped off her chin in big fat drops. "That was the last time I ever saw him," she sobbed. "The very last time!"

"Would you like to see him again?" a cool voice whispered. "Because I think it can be arranged."

The three of us turned, our heads whipping toward the sound of the voice. Christine Razuki, Pauline's guard dog, stood at the entrance to the living room, an ugly silver gun in her hand.

"I thought I told you not to talk to her," Christine said, her voice hard and angry. "I go out for cigarettes and this is what I find when I come back?"

Bess didn't miss a beat. She looked up, looked Christine straight in the eye and said, "Chris, don't go cutting the fool. You know me. Sit down and talk with us, that's all we're doing, talking about Nosmo."

Christine stepped into the room and walked across to a chair by the fireplace, but the gun stayed in her hand, out where it could easily kill any one of the three of us.

"We go way back, Chris," Bess said. "You and Nosmo are part of the business, the Family, if that's what you want to call it. I think the Family owes me a little respect."

Christine inclined her head, nodding slightly. "The Family lost a good man in your husband," she said, "but it was business. It was time to move on, and I can say this to you, Bess, because I know you didn't love Nosmo." Bess started to say something, but Christine held up her hand to silence her. "Respect? Were you going to say respect? Because you didn't respect him either, Bess. Not when you were screwing Vernell Spivey. That's not respect."

The gun came up a little higher, aimed more directly at Bess's chest.

"So what are you trying to tell me, Christine, that you've gotten a promotion? You no longer book the jobs, now you run the bank?"

Christine smiled slightly and Bess had her confirmation. Christine reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out a tiny cell phone, and hit a button.

"Come over to the condo," she said. "We've got some unfinished business." She flipped the phone shut and smiled at Bess.

"You killed Nosmo so you could run the money? You did that?" Pauline shook her head like she'd been hit and was trying to clear it. She couldn't grasp the concept.

Christine frowned, looked at her friend, and waved the gun a little as she spoke. "No, I didn't do that! That's ridiculous. I just took advantage of a situation, that's all."

Pauline wasn't through. "But you're talking so mean about him, Christine. He was nice to you. He was good to us. You shouldn't talk that way about the dead."

Christine looked at Pauline and laughed. "Nosmo King was the biggest asshole in Greensboro, maybe even in North Carolina. What did you think you had with him, a marriage?" Her laugh rang out like a harsh bark that bounced off the walls and echoed in my head. Pauline covered her ears, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"He loved me," she said softly. "And I loved him."

"Pauline, wake up! I was screwing him whenever he was here and you weren't. That's how it was, honey. Business, through and through. I paid the price, I got my promotions, and finally, I got what I wanted, everything. The three million was just a little extra something that fell into my lap."

A thick, guttural scream of pure rage came from Pauline, as she lunged from her chair, across the room toward her former best friend.

Christine's face never moved. Her finger tightened on the trigger, the gun went off, and Pauline dropped to the ground. Bess had jumped up, moving toward Christine, but stopped when Christine turned the gun back on her.

"You want to be next?" she asked. "I have no problem with making you next."

Before she could answer, the front door opened and Archer VanScoy stepped into the room. His hand was in his coat pocket, wrapped around a bulge that had to be a gun.

"Hey," he said. "I'm just in time, huh?"

"Well, it's about damned time!" I said. "I'd almost given up on you!"

"Huh?" Archer VanScoy turned and stared at me as if I was a crazy woman.

"What is she talking about?" Christine said.

I stood up and walked toward Archer, a big smile on my face and my arms open wide, blocking his view of Christine. "Tell her, sug," I said.

"Tell her what?" he said.

"Yeah, tell me what?" Christine asked. She stood slowly, looking at Archer with one eyebrow raised.

Pauline moaned and in that same moment I heard a sound behind me as Bess flew off the couch and into Christine. Christine grunted and flew sideways with Bess on top of her. The gun skittered out of her hand, flying across the floor. I rammed VanScoy, knocking him off balance momentarily, and grabbed a large white marble stone that looked like a bowling ball as he struggled to regain his balance.

I lifted it up over my head, bringing it down sharply on the side of his neck. VanScoy dropped like a load of bricks and shots rang out behind me. A woman screamed and I turned to look, the smooth stone still in my hands.

Pauline Conrad sat on the floor, Christine's gun in her hand. Christine lay sprawled backward on the floor, an ugly red stain blooming across her chest. But it was Bess who most concerned me. She was leaning against the wall behind Christine, her shoulder covered in blood, and the color completely drained from her face. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be unconscious.

I dropped to my knees, reached into VanScoy's pocket, and pulled his hand away from the gun that I'd known was there. With it in my hand, I turned back to Pauline.

"Honey," I said, "put the gun down."

Pauline didn't even look at me. She was staring at her dead friend, tears rolling down her face, blood staining the right side of her pale pink pajamas. She lay the gun down on the floor at her side, and closed her eyes.

The room was completely silent for a minute. I sat there, holding Archer VanScoy's gun and trying to make my brain work. Then Bess moaned and I moved to her side, pulling her shirt aside and looking at the wound which seemed to bubble up with blood.

"Nine-one-one," I said. Bess's eyes opened.

"Good plan," she whispered. "Better call them. They don't read minds."

Pauline had collapsed onto the floor again. I grabbed Christine's gun and stepped over to the white cordless phone that was lying on an end table.

Bess sighed and touched her shoulder.