Page 88 of Holding On

“What are you talking about, Debbie Jo?” Rick whips his head at his sister, wide-eyed and the vein starts to bulge again. His voice is eerily calm as he asks his sister, “What did you do?”

Debbie Jo shrugs unapologetically before looking at me. “You know, some might say it was poetic or some shit that Bridget went out the same way Rick and your mama took out your daddy. They even had a diabetic neighbor like y’all did in Florida back then to swipe some insulin from, which made it far too easy.”

My voice unintentionally breaks as I croak out, “My father?”

It’s now Rick’s turn to shrug. “Ah, Mikey, that dumb shit didn’t even see the insulin shot coming when I got him with the syringe. It only took Bridget and I telling the cops similar stories about Mike complaining of chest pains for the few days before he died for them to write it off as a heart attack. ‘We told him to get it checked out, Officer. But he was so stubborn. Oh, poor, Mike!’ Ha!” Rick shakes his head like he just told a funny joke.

My father’s death is a funny joke to him.

“But at least when Mike died, he left us a massive pile of cash from the life insurance with the buyout from our business. Overnight, we were millionaires and no longer had to sneak around behind your daddy’s back. But wait … Debbie Jo, what did you do?”

Debbie Jo’s confession seems to have finally sunk into Rick’s egotistical brain.

“It wasn’t even hard. She was so drunk that day; she barely even flinched when I gave her the shot,” Debbie Jo adds before leaning against the counter like this is all a normal conversation. “Honestly, Rick, you kept her around for way too long.”

“But to what end? All Bridget ever left behind were messes of empty bottles of booze.” Rick cocks his head to study his sister. “She was a shit housekeeper too and a fucking terrible cook. What do you get out of it?”

“I just wanted you to be happy and free, Rick.” Debbie Jo blinks and I think she’s trying to look innocent, but I don’t buy her act. “She didn’t deserve you.”

“You didn’t have permission to do that, Debbie Jo, but you’re lucky I’m a forgiving person.” Rick starts to turn back to me but freezes as somewhere behind him the distinct clack that sounds like the slide of a gun being racked back bounces off the penthouse walls. Rick stills and turns back to his sister. “Debbie Jo, what are you doing?”

Debbie Jo slides off the barstool and raises her gun—now pointing it at her brother. “I’m sick of waiting, Rick.”

“Just tell him, babe,” Kane groans from the floor.

“Tell me what?” Rick barks as Debbie Jo rolls her eyes.

She waves her other hand away, like batting a fly. “He’s delusional, it must be from blood loss.” She reaches her hand out toward Kane. “Just give it to me, Kane. I’ll do it myself,” Debbie Jo shrieks, but Kane stays on the floor.

“We’re leaving you and everyone else behind,” Kane says as Debbie Jo shakes her head at her brother, who is now laughing.

“I’m not kidding, Kane. Give it to me now!” Debbie Jo shakes her hand for emphasis, but Kane doesn’t reach toward her.

“Well, I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Debbie Jo … why would you kill my wife and why do you keep calling my sister ‘babe,’ Kane? What the fuck is going on here?” Rick turns and lowers the now-soaked bloody towel and glowers at Kane as he bleeds on my foyer. “Did you touch my sister when I told you she was off limits too, Kane?”

“You already know that answer,” Kane groans from the floor.

Debbie Jo’s head snaps up as her bravado flees the room faster than rats jumping from a sinking ship. “He’s delusional, really, don’t listen to him.” Debbie Jo tries to physically steer her brother away from Kane, but Rick isn’t moving like she wants.

“Oh, no, I already listened to him,” Rick replies, causing Debbie Jo to freeze. “Kane and I already had quite the heart-to-heart before your arrival today. So, when you ask if he brought the one thing you told him to … did you mean the access numbers to those Swiss bank accounts or this?”

Rick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small object, no bigger than a pen that he twirls between his fingers.

“You lack the patience and creativity to run the show, Debbie Jo. In an ironic twist, the entire reason I knew you were going to double cross me was because of my own late wife, before you went and killed her.” Rick barks out a laugh. “You killed Bridget for money you would never see because she had already warned me.”

Debbie Jo’s head rears back. “Warned you about what?”

“See, when you went to whatever number ex-husband, George Alderman, or was it, Jerry Alderman? Well, now, that’s just confusing.” Rick laughs at his own joke. “I guess when you marry brothers, they also would share cousins, huh? Anyway, when you went to Josh Alderman, cousin to”—Rick waves his hand around erratically—“two of your ex-husbands, Josh was concerned that you had nefarious intent and you overlooked an important detail.”

Debbie Jo lowers the gun slightly, and the tremble in her hand is obvious. “What do you mean?”

“You forgot that for some reason, Josh Alderman always thought Bridget was sweet. So, when you asked him to help you with his minor hacking skills, he actually became the unintentional whistleblower to your plan.”

“No, no. Josh wouldn’t … He can’t do that. I paid him!” Debbie Jo hollers.

“You did, and I knew that, but I paid him more—a lot more—to play along with your schemes and report back to me. He liked Bridget and didn’t want to see her get hurt but was more than happy to double cross your ass, while also making even more money. I just had to see how this would all play out, ultimately blowing up in your face. So, those Swiss accounts you think Josh set up for you…” Rick tilts his head with a grin.

“What did you do?” Debbie Jo yells at her brother as spittle flies from her mouth.