The Fat In The Fire

Three days later, Richie sat in a rental car across the street, watching the Mitchell mansion. It was the third day since he'd been coming, and he had already figured out their routine. Rachel hadn't been lying about that. He lit a cigarette and relaxed into the seat. The car had been rented by Calisa. That way, Rachel wasn't aware he was inside, watching her precious family.

He'd been there since 6:00 a.m., waiting for them. At 7.30am, James Mitchell drove out, followed by Kingsley ten minutes later. He drove right by Richie, whose heart tightened with jealousy, thinking of him and Rachel together. 

Enjoy it while it lasts. Kingsley, you won't be with my woman for long, he thought.

He lit another cigarette and waited. At 9:03 a.m.Lucy drove out with Mabel sitting beside her. They were talking and laughing, unaware they were being watched. Richie felt his blood boil.

I'll soon wipe that smile off your face, you wicked mother. He promised Mabel.

During his watch, he'd noticed that none of them had come out the front door to enter the garage, meaning there was a door leading from the house to the garage. He guessed Rachel had deliberately withheld that from him. It didn't matter. It was good she had it, so she didn't know he was responsible for what was about to happen. She was now home alone. It was uncertain if she'd go out, but if she did, he knew she would drive out and lock the garage door after her. He had thought of a way to stop that. He dialed her number.

"Hello?" She said fearfully.

"Rachel, listen! It's urgent! Meet me in the Rest Place Hotel restaurant now! Take a taxi; don't use your car!"

"Why?" She was alarmed. "What's happened?" 

"Just do as I say! Now! Remember, don't use your car!"

He hung up, feeling a pang of guilt for frightening her, but it was the only way. Five minutes later, he saw her rush frantically from the house. He hoped she'd forgotten to lock the garage door since she hadn't taken her car.

As soon as she'd gotten into a taxi, he stepped out of the car and entered the garage. He quickly located the door leading to the mansion, and surprisingly, it was unlocked.

"This is my lucky day," he muttered.

The door led to the laundry room and into the main house. He first went from room to room, eyeing the family pictures hanging on the wall and hating Mitchell's perfect life. Then he focused on his main goal.

Rachel had mentioned James Mitchell had an office upstairs; his personal computer would be there. He made his way upstairs and found the office. The computer was on his desk. He sat down and immediately got to work.

Half an hour later, he was done and ready to head out. He was on his way down when he heard someone approaching the front door.

Was it Rachel? He went back upstairs and entered the nearest bedroom. The person came in. It was Lucy. She was on the phone, and he listened.

"No, I'm at home; I forgot a book; yeah, everyone is gone. That snake Gina is still slithering about; everyone is treating her all nice. It makes me sick."

She listened to the person at the other end.

"Don't worry; mom may have given up, but I haven't and I won't. I'll make sure I do my best to get her out of our lives. I'll make her life a living hell, I promise…" She went into the library. Then, minutes later, she left the house.

Richie hurried downstairs and left the way he came.

Driving back to his place, he thought about what he'd heard. 

So that little brat plans to make Ray's life hell? He thought. Not on my watch.

Lucy had to go.

He reached home and fixed himself a snack, then, after eating, he lit a cigarette and settled down on his couch. The fat was in the fire. In a couple of weeks, Mitchell's perfect life would be upside down. He'd leave Kingsley at last. Mabel would be devastated watching the destruction of her golden boy, and he would enjoy every minute of it. Rachel would be devastated too, but it couldn't be helped. Besides, he'd be there to console her. 

Now to fix Lucy. On his way home, he'd been thinking about how to go about it. Finally, he had the answer, but he needed something. He made a call. The person answered on the first ring.

"Hey Joe,"

"Richie, where've you been, man?"

"Everywhere," he teased. "But I'm in the middle of something important right now."

"Lucky you."

Richie laughed. "Yeah, I'll give you a cut if it works out. But I need a favor."

"Sure, anything."

"I'll be needing some stuff. Are you still in the game?"

"Sure, I am. How much do you need?"

"He told him. How much?"

Joe told him. "Are you planning to sell?" He asked.

"No. I need it for something else."

"OK, I'll make sure you get the best."

"Thanks pal. Are you still in Brownwood?"

He laughed. "Where else would I be? Are you coming over to collect it?"

"No," Richie said nervously. "I'll wire you the money. Beverley will pick it up."

"Wow. I haven't seen her in a long time."

"Yeah. She's changed her circle. Could you meet her in the next town? She may not want to come to Brownwood."

"Sure, I can, no problem."

"Thanks. She'll be there tomorrow afternoon."

He hung up, then called Calisa.

"I'm sending you some money," he told her. "You have an errand to run for me."

"Great! Now I'm your errand girl. Haven't I done enough for you?"

He ignored her. "I want you to leave first thing tomorrow."

"I can't! I have a job!"

"Tomorrow is Saturday! So stop making excuses! You'll go and return on Sunday evening. I need it ASAP."

"Where the hell am I supposed to be going?"

"Brownwood." He knew what her reaction would be.

"No way!" She shouted. "I'm not going! You can't make me!"

"You won't be entering."

"I said no way! Forget it!"

"You seem to be forgetting yourself, Beverly," he said coldly.

He heard her gasp at the use of her real name.

He continued. "Remember what you've done? I'm sure you do. I'm also sure you remember the trouble I can make sure you get into."

"Please don't make me go there." She said tearfully.

"Like I was saying, you won't. He'll meet you in the nearby town."

He heard her sad sigh.

"What am I to pick up? From who?" She asked sadly.

"A package from Joe. I've already paid for it."

"Joe! You mean Joey Jo? What kind of package is JoeyJo going to give you?"

"I'm sure you know what he's going to give me. Now stop asking silly questions."

"Why do you need it? Are you planning to start selling in Newtown? I won't be a part of it!"

"None of your business! Now do as you're told. I'm expecting you on Sunday evening.

He hung up, annoyed, then lit a cigarette. The package would get that brat off Rachel's back and hit Mabel hard. Two for the price of one. He smiled.

Rachel dialed Richie's number for the fifteenth time, but there was no answer. She was sitting at a table close to the restaurant door, so she could see him come in. She'd been there for more than thirty minutes and was confused and anxious. It had sounded urgent, so she'd hurried over, yet he wasn't there or answering his phone. She was tense, her eyes fixed on the door, expecting him to walk in at any minute. She tried again, but still got no answer. The door opened, and a couple walked in. The man was tall and handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked vaguely familiar, and Rachel wondered where she'd seen him. The woman was short and slim, wearing an expensive-looking purple silk dress. Her back was to Rachel, so she couldn't make out her face. They took a table in a corner of the room. The man kept looking around as if afraid. The woman began talking, and he frowned. Rachel racked her brain, trying to remember who he was. 

Dr. James Mitchell! Franca's dad! She'd seen his pictures. The lady definitely wasn't Franca's mom. She was shorter, slimmer, and looked younger. From Dr. Mitchell's behavior, it was clear she was his mistress. So he was cheating on his wife? Rachel was shocked. He hadn't seemed like that kind of man. Her cell rang; it was Richie.

"For Pete's sake, Richie, why haven't you been answering? Where are you? I'm at the restaurant."

"Something came up; I can't make it; you can head home."

"What? Why did you want to see me? What's going on?"

"Nothing. Everything is OK. I'll call you later.

"Wait a minute."

He'd hung up. 

"Damn you!" 

Some diners looked at her. She blushed in embarrassment, then stood up and made for the door. She took a look at Dr. Mitchell and the lady. They seemed to be arguing. Then she left, mentally cursing Richie.

She was still mad when she got home. She entered the house, and a peculiar smell hit her nose.

She sniffed. She had a sensitive nose and knew the smell was familiar, but what was it? 

Cigarette smoke! Not just any, but the cigarette smoked by Richie! He's been here? 

Her throat went dry.

Is he here now?

"Hello, anyone home?" She called out.

Trembling, she went from room to room, expecting to find him. The house was empty. He was gone now, but she knew he'd been in the house. 

Why? What's he been up to? How did he get it? 

Then she remembered, in her haste, that she hadn't locked the garage door. Had he come in through there? How did he know about the door? She had been careful never to mention it to him. Had the whole call been a trick to get her out of the house? 

Did he come to poison us all?

No, Richie won't hurt me.

But he'd been in the house, and she knew he'd been up to no good. Her heart pounded.

Her anxiety continued until the next day. She couldn't help the panic that seized her when she remembered Richie had entered the mansion. She had thought of calling him, then changed her mind. It was better for him to think she didn't know. 

Kingsley came to meet her in the garden where she'd been all morning, worrying.

"Hey, babe, how about we go catch a movie this afternoon?"

"Yes," she said, eager for a distraction.

"OK, let me put away a few things, and we'll get going."

"I'll go change," she said, kissing him and heading upstairs.

Kingsley went to the library, and Mabel went to meet him.

"Kingsley, dear, could you drive me to the club when you're done?

Mabel hated driving. She'd refused to get a car of her own and either took a taxi or had her husband or kids, especially Lucy, chauffeur her around.

"No, mom, Rachel and I are going out."

"You guys can drop me off on your way,"

"It is not on our way. We're going to the cinema. Ask Lucy to drive you."

"She went to see a friend; please, sweetheart."

"Sorry, mom, I can't. We have plans.

She clenched her teeth, trying not to show her anger.

"So what do I do then?"

"Ask Dad,"

"He is on a conference call."

"Then call an Uber. I can't disappoint Rachel."

She sighed in exasperation and marched into the living room, cursing Rachel. She was searching for the Uber app on her phone when the doorbell rang.

She went to open the door. The sight of the person standing in front of the door turned her chalk white.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded loudly.

"Hey sis, I've come to say hello." The lady who Rachel had seen with Dr. Mitchell said.