A Clean Kill

Twenty-six

That morning Alison was in a rage at her husband for leaving her, at Leah for walking in on her, at Lynn for disobeying her. At Maddy for stealing her lover and stupidly getting herself killed. Everything unbearable was happening at the same time. After firing Lynn, though, the tension left her body and she drifted off to her favorite place. Oblivion. She slept with one hand on each dog, snoring gently, and the Chihuahua, with all four paws in the air, snored with her.

For a short while the house was quiet, and peace prevailed. Then from down the stairs came a soft whistle. The poodle lifted its large head, knocking Alison's hand to the sheet. Roxie rolled over and barked, escaping from under the other hand. The contact with their mistress was broken, but Alison slept on.

After a minute, the whistle came again, this time in three short bursts. Fully alert, the dogs turned their eyes and ears toward the door as they waited for the command to come again. Seconds passed and nothing more happened. The deep . silence of the house was broken only by Alison's breathing.

Then it came. Three short whistles. The tense dogs remained where they were until the chain rattled on Floyd's leash. At that moment they knew for sure what was up, and they heard the word that put it all together. "Walkies!"

Asusual, the call came from downstairs, soft and far away—always a welcome summons. They jumped off the bed to obey and ran down the stairs to the door. It didn't matter to them who took them out. Minutes later a maid came into Alison's room carrying a bucket filled with spray disinfectants on one arm, pushing a vacuum cleaner with her other hand. She was wearing a formal uniform, a gray dress with white collar and cuffs and a white apron over it, and thin rubber gloves. Her hair was hidden under a paisley turban. She didn't look at the sleeping woman on the bed as she went about her business.

She moved quickly, as if this was only one of many rooms she had to do that morning. She gathered up the clothes on the floor and threw them into the hamper in the bathroom, humming as she worked. When the bedroom was all picked up and tidy, she moved to the bathroom, washing out the shower, drying the floor. She put the cosmetics away and lingered over Alison's diamond engagement and wedding rings. After a few seconds, she took off one of the rubber gloves and put them on. She studied the way they looked on her hand, pulled the glove back over them, and went into the bedroom, where she turned on the vacuum cleaner. It roared into life.

Alison's body was still relaxed, but her eyes slowly opened and rolled around at the ceiling above her as if trying to locate the source of the offending noise. She turned her head to the side and her eyes connected with the hose of the vacuum cleaner as it entered her field of vision. Then she was awake and seething. She wanted that noise to stop.

"Fuck!" She raised herself up on an elbow. "Cut that out."

The maid paid no attention to her. She went on vacuuming vigorously, moving back and forth across the carpet and around the bed as if Alison weren't there.

Alison pulled herself into a sitting position. "Get the fuck out of here," she screamed.

The maid reached onto the bed for a pillow and smacked it so hard a few delicate feathers escaped from the pillowcase and flew into the air. She took another and smacked that one, too. The vacuum cleaner ran on as she busied herself at the bed, plumping pillows as if no one were yelling at her to stop it.

A pillow hit Alison in the face as the maid tossed it down on the bed. Alison pushed it away, and the maid grabbed it from her. She couldn't see much without her contacts, certainly not a clear view of the features of her tormentor. But she did catch a glimpse of sparkling diamonds on the wrist of the woman's hand as she pelted her almost playfully with the pillows.

Alison couldn't figure out what .was happening. She made an effort to get up and force the devil out of her house but not very effectively. The vacuum was roaring, and the pillows became a shell game with her face lost in the middle. She had that wild, panicked feeling that none of this 'was real and she was hallucinating, making nightmares out of common events, as had happened several times before. Each foot felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and her hands were helpless to fight off her own covers. Then diamonds sparkled in front of her eyes one last time and she had an odd thought, That's my bracelet, before her pillows silenced her screams.