A Clean Kill

Three

Alison Perkins watched the numerals on the clock by her bed change from 9:31 to 9:32 as she listened to Maddy Wilson's irritatingly long voice message. Maddy wasn't picking up. She rolled over on the big bed she shared with Andrew, Floyd, and Roxie, waiting for the message to end so she could speak her mind into the void. She was annoyed and wanted it to be known. Just a little while ago Maddy had called her in crisis, demanding instant attention. She'd had it with Remy, had it with poor Leah. Even Derek was pissing her off. Alison couldn't talk to her then because Andrew was having his ten minutes of the day with her and didn't like to be interrupted: Now Andrew was long gone, and it looked as if Maddy was gone, too.

Alison hated that. Everybody was so demanding! Andrew worked all the time, never came home, but had to have her early in the morning, the one time the whole family was together and the kids needed attention, too. Then Maddy had to meet with her about the same old thing, but only after she'd finished with Derek. She expected Alison to wait around for her. Alison's whole life had turned into a waiting game. She'd waited for Andrew to marry her, and now she was trapped with two little kids, always waiting for him to come home.

She'd retreated to bed to count down the minutes to the end of Maddy's session. Floyd and Roxie had followed her. For more than an hour they'd lazed around together. Now they were all up. The black standard poodle was lying on his stomach as close to her as he could get without actually lying across her lap. His large head was propped on crossed front paws. Roxie, the longhaired Chihuahua, was nosing her phone arm, wanting attention. Maddy's message ended, and the beep sounded.

"Maddy, I'm here. You said you'd be done at nine thirty. It's nine thirty-two. Where are you? I have a thousand things to do. I don't have all day to wait for you."

Alison hung up and put the phone back on the night table. Roxie was now running through her bag of tricks. Without waiting for a command, she rolled over. Then she rolled over again and bumped into Floyd. He growled. She twirled again and bumped into the huge poodle a second time. He growled louder, but she had no idea how small she was next to him. She wasn't afraid. She knew what her job was, and she performed it well.

ive me some food. Give me some food. Attention, attention. Alison was distracted from her perpetual feeding of discontent, and smiled at the little dog. Hi, cutie! You beautiful baby."

Despite her claim of business to attend to, the truth was, Alison did have all day. Except for her early lunch with Maddy and her one o'clock appointment with Derek, she didn't have a single thing to do. The girls were gone for the day. They had play dates after play school. Lynn, the nanny, would go get them, escort them to their appointed rounds, then feed them dinner. Alison would put them to bed around eight o'clock, before Andrew would even begin thinking of returning home. She had no idea when he would get back. He'd blown off their Easter vacation and now expected her and the kids to hang around all summer while he did whatever it was he did. To appease her he'd promised to spend a month on the Vineyard in August. But last year, she'd been stuck up there all alone practically the whole time. He'd come only for one weekend. She was still angry about it.

Now she didn't bother to get dressed. She lay in bed, running through her list of grievances, playing with the dogs, waiting for her best friend—who happened to be in pretty much the same boat—to call her back. But Maddy never did.