The glass on the picture shattered against his cheeks and eyes. Roger cried out, his hands flying up. The picture fell to the floor. Shards of glass were embedded in his cheeks and forehead. He brushed them away, making bloody cuts as Mary raced back to the stairs.
She reached the top and raced down the staircase, half-stumbling, trying not to lose her balance. She prayed she didn’t fall. Nothing could happen to the baby. She had to get out of the house. She had to save them both. And Judy.
Roger ran down the steps after her, right behind her. Suddenly he kicked her in the back of the head.
Mary’s skull exploded. She cried out in agony. She saw stars, stunned. She reeled and slipped on the step, losing her balance. Her arms flailed, but she caught the banister, hanging on tight. She forced herself to stay conscious. She had to keep her wits about her. It was do or die.
Roger clambered downstairs and squatted next to her, grabbing her arms and trying to pry them off the railing. He pulled one arm off and tried to shove her down the stairs. She grappled with him, not letting go, wrenching him back and forth.
His leather shoe slipped on the stair and his leg came out from under him. She saw him pitch forward, then whipped him downward with one hand, holding on to the railing with the other. The sudden motion knocked him off-balance and he started to fall, but held tight to Mary. She didn’t have the strength to keep her grip on the railing. He took her down with him.
Roger rolled ahead of her down the stairs, unable to hold on to Mary. She managed to slide down on her back, protecting her belly. She landed on top of him, then scrambled over him and darted to the front door.
“Help!” she screamed, praying her neighbors heard. She reached the door and grabbed the knob, twisting it open.
Roger grabbed her ankle from behind, dragging her backwards. Fear electrified every fiber of Mary’s being. She couldn’t fall facedown on the baby.
Mary grabbed the small console table to break her fall, dragging it back with her. The lamp, the mail, and the key basket scattered everywhere. The door swung partway open.
“Help!” she screamed in desperation. She was almost safe. Somebody had to have heard her. She prayed they would come before it was too late. The table legs skidded on the hardwood, and Mary held on to the table, riding it backwards.
She tried to climb over it to the door, but her belly was in the way. Roger clambered to his feet, grabbing her from behind by the shoulders. She screamed, ramming her elbow back into his chest, again and again. She couldn’t get him off of her. Terror and effort exhausted her. Sweat slaked her face and neck. She felt weaker and weaker.
Roger put his hands around her throat, choking her from behind. She tried to scream but no words came out. She gasped for oxygen. She heard herself gagging.
“Mary!” Judy screamed, and Mary looked up to see her best friend racing down the stairwell, holding her phone.
“Roger, no! Stop!” Judy shrieked in terror. Mary couldn’t keep her eyes open. She was losing consciousness. Judy had probably called 911 but they wouldn’t get here in time for her, or the baby.
Suddenly the front door opened and standing in the threshold was Nick Machiavelli, holding a Pyrex dish with a tinfoil cover. His dark eyes widened in shock. He dropped the dish, slipped a hand inside his jacket, and pulled out a gun.
“Hands up or I shoot!” he shouted, aiming the gun at Roger.
“Don’t!” Roger raised his hands, releasing Mary just as Judy reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Mary, are you okay?” Judy shouted, frantic, and Mary nodded, coughing as she tried to get her breath. Her knees buckled, and she sank into the arms of her best friend. Judy hugged her and eased them both onto the floor, where they clung to each other as Mary’s coughs subsided.
“Roger, hit the floor! Don’t move!” Machiavelli advanced on Roger, pushing him backwards into the living room. Roger got down on his knees, then lay facedown on the rug. Sirens blared nearby.
“I called 911, that must be them.” Judy hugged Mary, whose breath started to return to normal. Her throat hurt, her head was killing her. She held her belly, thanking God she felt the baby moving. The sirens sounded closer, and she hoped they had an ambulance. Judy had a cut on her face, and her right cheek had begun to swell, her eye gradually closing. They should get checked out at a hospital.
“How are you?” Mary asked, hoarsely. “You had a concussion.”
“I’m fine. We made it, girl.” Judy hugged her tighter.
“Yes, we did.” Mary felt a rush of gratitude that they had survived, as well as sympathy for Judy. “I’m sorry about John.”
“Thanks. But we’ll put Roger away. That helps.”
Machiavelli glanced over, holding the gun on Roger. “So ladies, lemme guess, Roger’s the bad guy?”
“Yes,” Mary answered.
“Told you it wasn’t me.” Machiavelli snorted.
“Sorry, and thanks.” Mary managed a smile. “Meanwhile, since when do you have a gun?”
“Don’t worry, I got a carry permit, Pollyanna.”
“You were almost right about the video.”
“Almost?” Machiavelli lifted an eyebrow. The sirens sounded less than a block away. “Lucky I came by when I did. My mother was worried about you. She made you spinach lasagna. Now it probably broke in a million pieces, and she loved that dish. She wanted it back.”
“Uh-oh. Who’s going to tell her?”
“Baby Boy, of course,” Machiavelli answered, with a sly smile.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The next few hours were a blur of activity, starting with the previously unlikely trio of Mary, Judy, and Machiavelli standing together as a cadre of police officers swarmed Roger. They hoisted him to his feet and handcuffed him, still bleeding from his facial cuts, then hauled him out of the house into a waiting police cruiser. He didn’t look back, but it was a moment that Mary and Judy would never forget. Seeing him get his comeuppance gave them both comfort, though Mary noticed that he’d left bloodstains on her living room carpet. She made a mental note to deduct it from the legal fees they’d never pay him. And to remember that at least once in her life, she had been totally badass.
Then she and Judy were whisked into ambulances, taken to the hospital, and wheeled into the emergency department. Judy was sent for testing, which came out fine, and Mary was examined, put on a fetal monitor, and cried tears of joy when she was told that the baby was fine. Detectives Krakoff and Marks appeared, and Mary and Judy gave them preliminary statements, enabling them to charge Roger with John’s murder, attempted murder, and other offenses. Mary’s home was officially a crime scene, so she was secretly happy she had cleaned up.
Bennie, Anne, and Lou arrived, and Mary and Judy had filled them in as much as they could before they got sent out to the waiting room, since they weren’t immediate family. Her parents came, horrified and distraught, and she and Judy had to comfort them, get them some water, and make sure they were okay, a turnabout of the typical hospital visit. The Hodges and William were happily teary to learn that John’s murderer was in custody, and they thanked Mary and Judy. The Tonys and El Virus arrived but they had to stay in the waiting room, too. Mary had no problem with her mother-in-law’s being outside, though she missed The Tonys. She heard that the Rosary Society showed up, and Tony-From-Down-The-Block had his eye on Conchetta Patrioca so love was in the air.