Day 82, Chapter 82
In what is perhaps the longest chapter to date, we flash forward a few hours from where we left off yesterday – Sarah is now home after her ordeal following her latest (attempted) heist.
After Trevor threatened her, drank, shoved her around, and collected his marital due, he finished a six-pack and went to bed. Red-eyed, sore, and frightened, Sarah sat in his chair, squeezing the exercise ball. She changed hands, working her fingers until they were nearly numb. Then she shook out her hands and booted up her laptop.
Once she was on the web, she clicked on Google News and typed “Hello Kitty” into the search bar.
As you can see here, all the “Hello Kitty” news is related to Lady Gaga’s latest outfit – Hello Kitty “panties” that she fashioned out of an elaborate necklace/purse thing. (Seriously, she called them “panties.” JPatt, eat your cold, black heart out.)
Of course, in Sarah’s world, there are articles related to her burglaries, but so far nothing about her most recent one. She is worried, however, about the trail of crap she ditched during her “steeplechase” escape from the crime scene: burglary tools, a headlamp, a sweater, socks, shoes. Uh, and a bag filled with gold jewelry? She (irrationally) thinks about what would happen if her fingerprints were found on the battery inside the headlamp:
Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, if the shoe fits, you must nail her ass for twenty years without possibility of parole.
How about what will happen if the police notice that Hello Kitty ditched her shoes and their investigation leads them to talk to Mark Ogrodnick at Whole Foods, who just happens to remember his old teacher showed up that same night bleeding and not wearing any shoes? You never know – deductive police work has happened before.
Among the articles related to Hello Kitty and the Dowling murder, she sees an article that gives a name to the big yellow diamond she stole & made into a pendant for Heidi: “The Sun of Ceylon Stolen in Fatal Armed Robbery.” Hilariously, the Sun of Ceylon is a cursed diamond and has “a long history, marked with sudden death. Once the property of a young farmer who found it a dirt street in Ceylon, the stone has passed from paupers to kings, leaving a trail of tragedy behind.”
Sarah felt as if a fist had closed around her heart. She called up the history of the Sun of Ceylon and everything that had happened to the people who had owned it – a long list of financial ruin and disgrace, sudden insanity, suicide, homicide, and accidental death.
You are fucked, lady.
Sarah reads about all the other cursed gems of history – conveniently listed in Chapter 82 by Mr. Patterson: the Koh-i-noor diamond (or “Mountain of Light”), the Hope diamond, the Black Orlov Diamond, the Delhi Purple Sapphire, the Black Prince’s Ruby. (Hey, what about Liz Taylor’s La Peregrina Pearl?) And the Sun of Ceylon, of course.
Casey Dowling had owned it. And now she was dead.
Sarah had given that stone to Heidi as a romantic gift – but what if it brought evil into Heidi’s life?
I’ve got news for you, Heidi’s already married to a serial killer so I don’t think it can get much worse than that.
Sarah had to ask herself, Am I really this superstitious?
Crossing your fingers and throwing salt over your shoulder were baloney. Still, call it stress, call it irrational – it didn’t matter. Sarah felt it strongly. It was well-documented. People who owned cursed gemstones died.
Hey, guess what? Also well-documented: people who own uncursed gemstones die. People who own Honda Civics die. People who eat ham sandwiches die. People who read James Patterson novels die.
Go to Day 83