Twist

As the voices grew louder and closer, she opted for the closet, leaving the door open a crack so she could see into the hallway. Surely they'd leave soon. Although she and Ruth had coffee together every morning, Sadie never pried into Ruth's private affairs. And Ruth never mentioned her arguments with Sid. That was as it should be. It would be unseemly for an employee to take sides in a marital dispute.

She had enjoyed working for Ruth's father, old Mr. Courtland, but she had disliked Sid Dedrick ever since she had seen him dining with another woman in the city. Luckily, he hadn't seen her and she had told no one of the incident. She also hated the way his business practices were driving Courtland into the ground in spite of the customer's paying top dollar. Ruth had turned all business arrangements over to Sid and Sadie wondered if Ruth knew they were facing bankruptcy.

"We can't afford it," Sid shouted. "I'm not made of money."

"Where does our money go?" Ruth asked. "We deserve a vacation. We barely had a honeymoon-- three days at the World Series. You hardly knew I was there."

"I saw enough of you, that's for sure," he snarled. They were in clear view of the closet door now, and Sadie saw Sid's face flush as suddenly he stepped behind Ruth, placed both hands on her shoulders and shoved. At first Sadie thought it was she who had screamed, then she realized the sound had come from Ruth. The scream seemed to last forever; then when it stopped, Sadie heard Ruth's body tumble down more stairs and thud against the morgue door. Fear paralyzed her. Was Ruth dead? What could she do? Dial 911? Sid would say Ruth fell. He might even say Sadie pushed her. It would be his word against hers. Before she could work out a plan, Sid entered her office, picked up the conference phone.

"Cassie, is that you?" Sid's voice gritted. "It's done. She just had an accidental fall. A very bad fall."

"Oh, Sid. Are you sure she's dead?"

"Of course, I'm sure. Broken neck."

"Did you check for a pulse?"

"I didn't need to. I could tell she's dead. Tomorrow Sadie will find her body when she arrives for work."

"What will you tell the police?"

"The story we planned-- we had argued and I thought Ruth had left me."

"This better work, Sid. I'm through waiting for you."

"Now, Cassie, you know it'll take some months to settle her estate with all her money being tied up in a trust fund. But I've enough cash to set you up in Des Moines."

"Des Moines! You're kidding! What about Rio?"

"Des Moines for now, Cassie. I'll join you on weekends. Once the estate's settled, we'll be rich, but until then we'll be living on a short string." Once Sid left her office, Sadie wiped sweat from her upper lip. She waited until she heard the front door close. Then she waited a while longer, fearful and grieving for Ruth. She couldn't prove Sid had shoved her. If she called the police they'd ask what she was doing here and maybe they'd blame her. And once Sid learned she had witnessed his act, she might be the next one to take a fall.

Was there a chance that Ruth was still alive? Forcing calmness, Sadie inched down the steps. Slowly. Cautiously. She knew from the grotesque twist of Ruth's neck that she was dead and she wasn't surprised when she felt no pulse. Anger and sorrow formed an aching ball in her chest as she sat thinking. She formed a plan, but if it backfired, she might be the one accused of murder. She stepped into the morgue and found a pair of plastic gloves.

It was almost midnight by the time Sadie walked the short distance home. She had a hard time getting to sleep. The next morning she arrived at work promptly. The groundskeeper had cleared snow from the parking lot and the sidewalk. The hearse driver had come and gone. At 9:15 Sid called. Sadie willed her voice to be firm, normal.

"Sadie, have you seen Ruth this morning?"

"Why, no, I haven't. Is there a problem?"