Killing Monica
* * *
Arriving at the club, Pandy went directly to the bar, worried that the heat was somehow getting to SondraBeth. But as she took a seat and the bartender flipped a cocktail napkin in front of her, the world seemed to right itself on its axis.
“Hey,” said the bartender.
“Hey, yourself,” Pandy said.
“The usual? Rum punch?”
“Sure,” Pandy said with a smile. She raised her glass. “To drinking your cares away,” she added as the bartender replied with the island’s mantra:
“You got something better to do?”
“Nope,” Pandy said hopefully, glancing behind her for SondraBeth.
She saw several iguanas, but SondraBeth seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps she’d gone into the bathroom, Pandy thought with relief. “To the heat,” Pandy said, raising her glass with one hand and wiping the back of her sweaty neck with the other.
She looked out at the view. The milky watercolor sea ran right into the sky. The bartender turned to gaze at the ocean as well. “That’s what I call ‘the womb of the sea.’ It’s where the sharks and stingrays lay their eggs. I’ve seen hundreds of baby sharks out there the size of your little finger. And you want to know the weirdest part?”
“Sure,” Pandy said, sipping at the fruity cocktail.
“They’re born with all their teeth. Rows and rows of teeth the size of pinheads.”
“Incredible,” Pandy said.
She yawned and, picking up her glass, walked out to the pool. Dropping her stuff onto a chaise, she waded slowly into the water. She curved her hands like a spout and dove under the surface. She pretended she was a baby shark, swimming happily underwater. When her breath ran out, she popped up to find SondraBeth standing at the edge of the pool, looming over her.
“I just remembered why I hate Lala Grinada so much.”
“Really?” Pandy’s mood sank. She had been hoping that SondraBeth had forgotten about Lala by now.
“I used to see her at auditions. I didn’t remember it was the same girl until you said the thing about the three hairs. Her hair was dark back then, and she hadn’t had her nose done. And she was such a snob. She acted like she was better than everyone else because she was English.”
“So?” Pandy frowned, wondering why this particular fact would get SondraBeth so riled. She got out of the pool and dried herself off, following SondraBeth to an outside table at the restaurant.
“She was rich,” SondraBeth said, sitting down. “You should have seen the way she used to look at me at auditions. Like I was a piece of lowly shit.”
“Mm-hmm,” Pandy said noncommittally, knowing what was coming next.
“She’s just like those girls I went to high school with. The ones who called me a slut.” SondraBeth picked up her knife and began tapping it on the table. “Lala needs to learn her lesson. And you need to be the one to teach her.”
“Me?” Pandy squeaked so loudly, she flushed in embarrassment. She shook out her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Hey, kemosabe. I’m not part of this, remember?”
“Of course you’re a part of it. How can you not be?”
The waiter came over. Pandy tried to divert SondraBeth away from the topic of Lala by engaging in a detailed discussion of the specials. Unfortunately, this didn’t take long, as the “specials” were only two different types of fish.
When the waiter walked away, SondraBeth leaned across the table and banged her knife again. “Goddammit. Why can’t you be there when I need you? When Monica needs you!”
Pandy laughed. “What does Monica have to do with it?”
“She’s your child. And you’re abandoning her.”
“But—”
“If someone did something to my child, I would never let them get away with it. I would hunt them down to the ends of the earth. And then I would kill them.”
“Are you suggesting we put out a hit on Lala?” Pandy smirked. “I suppose you’re still in touch with those mob guys from Joules? Freddie the Rat? Maybe he could do it.”