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“What were they hoping to accomplish by digging up a corpse?” asked Tex as he dabbed at his mouth with a towel, then smacked his tongue and went right back to brushing his teeth once more for good measure. Urine—the taste that lingers.

“Well, like I said, they were doing one of those online challenges. You know, if they’re not throwing buckets of ice water on their heads or eating Tide Pods or sniffing glue they’re digging up corpses and taking selfies with them. Pretty gross if you ask me.”

“And criminal,” said Marge, shaking her head. She now studied her roots in the mirror over the sink. “So mayonnaise, huh?”

“Dick Bernstein swears by it,” said Tex as he was now busy brushing his tongue.

“Oh, will you give it a rest,” said Gran. “Dick Bernstein is a fool. I’ll bet the man never rubbed mayonnaise on his scalp. He simply told you what he thought you wanted to hear.”

“So Dick pulled my leg?” asked Tex, staring at his mother-in-law in the mirror.

“Sure! He’s just one of those guys lucky enough to still have all his hair. He doesn’t know why—nobody knows why. Good genes, probably. And definitely not mayonnaise.”

“And now you’ve gone and bought a truckload of the stuff, honey,” said Marge.

Tex gave two of the three women in his life a rueful look.“I really made a fool of myself this time, didn’t I?”

“You did, honey,” said Marge, and gave him a kiss, then made a face. “I think you better brush your teeth a third time. I can still smell it on you.”

Tex licked his lips, then winced.“Strong stuff. I wonder how Malcolm does it.”

“He was probably pulling your leg, too,” said Vesta. She patted the doctor’s back. “You’re all right, Tex. Your hair is fine, and so are you. And now let’s get this day started, folks. Time’s a-wasting!”

And leaving her daughter and son-in-law to get ready for their day, she practically skipped down the stairs. And if anyone would have asked for her secret on how she was still so healthy and vivacious at seventy-five years of age, she would have told them it was all down to the entertainment level she derived from watching her nearest and dearest make absolute fools of themselves. Soap operas and reality shows were all fine and dandy, but nothing beat the real thing—free of charge and available twenty-four-seven!

31

Angel Church was fed up with this nonsense. She’d been in that cramped little room for twenty-four hours now, or even more, and enough was enough. The food wasn’t bad, though a little on the greasy side for her taste, but she missed home, and she missed being able to move about freely and do the things she loved. But most of all she missed being able to take a long hot shower!

So when the man with the mask entered the room and placed another tray on the table, this time containing breakfast, she demanded,“When are you going to let me go?”

But the man didn’t speak.

“I asked you a question!” she said. “How long do you plan to keep me here!”

The man turned to walk out again, but this time she was so fed up with this whole situation, that she felt a wave of white-hot anger take control, and as she uttered a low growl, she picked up the tray, dumped its contents on the floor, and accosted the man with it, hitting him over the head as hard as she could. Her warden uttered a sort of startled squeak, then went down and didn’t get up!

She stared down at the victim of her sudden outburst, a hand to her mouth in surprise and shocked at her own strength, then glanced over to the door. And she was about to take that leap to freedom, when the second man suddenly materialized, saw what had happened and said,“What did you do!”

But she was so overwrought, and determined to end this ridiculous situation once and for all, that she found herself streaking forward, and attacking this man, too!

Unfortunately for her, this opponent had anticipated her maneuver, and was ready. He quickly turned her around, then marched her back to the bed in the corner and forced her to lie down, then found nothing better to do than to sit on top of her, pinning her down.

“Now you listen to me, and you listen carefully!” she said, as she tried in vain to wriggle out from under this man. “You let me go right now! Or there will be hell to pay, mister!”

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” said the man as he lit up a cigarette, then took out his phone.

“Let. Me. Go!”

“Yeah, it’s me,” the guy now spoke into his phone. “We’ve got a situation. Yeah, you better come down. She knocked out… our mutual friend. What? No, he’s on the floor, unconscious.” He disconnected and glanced down at his prisoner, who was still wriggling frantically. “Stop squirming, princess.”

“You can’t keep me here forever!” she said.

“And we won’t.”

“So when are you going to let me go?”

“Soon,” he promised. “Very soon now.” He glanced down at the remnants of breakfast, now splattered all across the floor. “Now look what you did,” he lamented. “That took me a long time to prepare, princess.”

“Well, boohoo,” she said viciously.