Almost Dead (Lizzy Gardner #5)(13)

Really?

Terri seemed to be in her own world as she poured them both glasses of milk and then took a seat at the table across from Jenny. Since she hadn’t cut into the cake yet, Jenny took the knife and did the honors.

In a matter of minutes, Terri’s demeanor had transformed from a confident woman in a hurry to an apprehensive woman awaiting execution.

“Are you all right?” Jenny asked. “You look sort of pale. If it’s about Jenny Pickett, I wouldn’t worry too much about anything she says. Everyone at work thinks she’s a bit strange, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I guess I don’t understand.”

The cake. Make her eat the cake and then get out of here!

“Before I explain further,” Jenny said, “I insist you try a bite of chocolate heaven. I want to know what you think.”

Terri did as she was told. She nodded her approval and even took a second bite before chasing it down with some cold milk. “That is quite good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

As Terri ate, Jenny rambled on, making up stories about her coworker. “Jenny is so reserved. Beyond reserved, really. Strange, like I said. She doesn’t have any friends that I know of. She brings a brown paper bag lunch to work and keeps to herself.”

Terri shrugged as she took another bite and followed it with a sip of milk. “I’ve met a lot of chemists over the years and most seem to be introverted.”

“Really?”

Terri nodded. “I don’t think Jenny Pickett ever realized how brilliant she really was and is.”

“Brilliant?”

“Definitely. But the one thing she always lacked was confidence. It was sad, really, the way she let people walk all over her.” Terri took another bite. “This cake is delicious—dense but so moist.”

“I’ll give you the recipe before I go.”

What’s taking so long? Why isn’t she dying? Don’t tell me you f*cked this up.

“Shut up,” Jenny said under her breath.

“What?”

Jenny touched her throat. “Sorry, I was just trying to clear a tickle.”

It was quiet for a moment. Terri had put her fork down and appeared to be staring at her plate.

“I’m sorry if I upset you. I never should have told you about Jenny Pickett in the first place.”

“No, I’m glad you did.”

“You didn’t really steal the formula from her, did you?”

Terri looked across the table at Jenny. There was a defeated look about her. “I think I need to call Jenny. You wouldn’t happen to have her phone number, would you?”

“Why? What would you tell her?”

“I would tell her—” Terri put a hand to her chest. “I don’t feel good.” She pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “You’ll have to excuse me. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Jenny watched her stagger away. She got halfway across the living area before beginning to topple. She took hold of a cushioned chair and was able to fall gracefully back on the carpeted floor. As she lay faceup, her gaze fastened on the ceiling, the muscles in her body contracted and then relaxed, again and again, until finally her legs and arms began to shake uncontrollably.

The next few minutes were excruciatingly long. Jenny didn’t move from her seat. She just wanted it to be over.

Quit being a baby. You’re finally sticking up for yourself. She deserves to die, and you deserve to watch her do it.

Another moment passed before Jenny stood and walked over to Terri. She hovered over her, knowing she couldn’t leave until she was certain Terri was dead.

Terri stopped shaking long enough to reach both arms upward toward Jenny. “Please help me.”

Jenny’s plan had been to pull off her wig and reveal herself while she watched Terri die. Jenny had even gone out of her way to look into the mirror and practice what she would say: Who’s the clever one now? Who has the last laugh? But she couldn’t do it. She walked back to the kitchen and picked up the phone, ready to dial 911.

Don’t be stupid. The bitch stole your formula and took all of the credit. If she had any respect for you, she would have contacted you months ago. Nobody likes you. Brandon treated you like a whore. The people on your list all treated you like trash. It’s time to stand up for yourself. It’s time to take control.

Jenny looked over her shoulder at Terri and saw that she was no longer moving.

She set the phone down and slowly, methodically retrieved gloves and a plastic bag from her purse. She took all the dishes from the table. Poured out the milk, washed and dried every dish, wiped fingerprints from the phone, table, and chairs. She dumped the cake along with the plate into the plastic bag, making sure to seal it tightly before putting it inside her oversized bag. When there was nothing left on the table or in the sink, she wiped down all the furniture one more time. She then removed and folded the gloves, tucked them into her bag along with everything else. She peeked out the peephole to make sure nobody was outside. It was all clear.

She stretched the sleeves of her sweater over the fingers of her right hand, making sure not to leave prints on the door handle. And then she dared one last look at Terri, whose eyes were wide open. One thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.

It’ll get easier. I promise.