Deliver Me From Evil
door yelled, jiggling the door handle.
    â€œIt’s just the maid,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Let me get rid of her.” I didn’t wait for Wade to respond. I laid the phone on the bed and put on the sunglasses and the cap. Then I cracked open the door and peered into the tired moon face of a woman who reminded me of my beloved late godmother. I had to blink back a tear that was threatening to slide out. My godmother had not been dead that long, but I got emotional every time I thought about her or saw somebody who resembled her. I smiled as I looked over the maid’s shoulder.
    â€œHousekeeping,” the woman said again, nodding toward the room, trying to look over my shoulder. She could glimpse just enough of me to see that I was wrapped up in the bedspread. From the smirk on her face, something told me that she assumed I was one of the hookers.
    â€œUm, I don’t need any service today,” I said quickly. She seemed relieved to hear that. “As a matter of fact, I won’t be needing any housekeeping services any other day, either. I’ll be checking out on Friday,” I said hopefully.
    â€œNo towels, toilet paper?” the maid asked, still trying to look over my shoulder.
    â€œNo,” I said, shaking my head and trying to shut the door. “I have enough toilet paper, towels, and everything else. I brought my own soap, so you don’t even have to worry about that, either.” The maid had a puzzled look on her face as I shut and locked the door, securing it with the dead bolt and the chain. I stood with my back against the door until I heard her knock on the door of the room next to mine.
    â€œI’m back,” I said, picking up the phone. “I got rid of her.”
    â€œDon’t you open that door no more,” Wade hollered.
    â€œIt was just the maid,” I hollered back. “If I hadn’t opened the door, she would have entered the room. What was I supposed to do? I got rid of her for the rest of the week.”
    â€œJust don’t open that door no more. Do you hear me? I ain’t going to jail for you or nobody else.”

CHAPTER 12
    J ail was the last place I wanted to be. I tried not to even think along those lines. And, it made me angry when Wade brought it up.
    â€œCan we get down to business? I’m naked and smelling like hell, and I want to take a shower. Now what is the deal with Jesse Ray?” I barked. I wanted to make sure that Wade knew I was angry and impatient.
    â€œI told him I’d call him again so I could prove that you are still alive. In the meantime, Jason’s going to make sure he sees them pictures we took first.”
    I didn’t like to think about the pictures I’d posed for. I had been hoping that we would not have to show them to my husband. As strange as it seemed, even to me, I wanted to make this monkey business as painless as possible for Jesse Ray. But I knew it was going to hurt him like hell to part with half a million dollars. That part couldn’t be helped. Besides, I was in a lot of pain myself and had been for a long time. And, the money from Jesse Ray was the only thing I knew of that could ease my pain.
    And, speaking of pictures, yesterday was not the only time that I’d posed for pictures for Wade. One night a few months ago, in a room at the Marriott—paid for with one of my credit cards at that—I’d allowed Wade to take some Polaroids of me. Not a few head shots of me grinning into the camera like a drunken fool, but shots that were so sexually explicit that I could only stand to look at them that one time. Even though I looked much younger in each picture, and in a couple, I didn’t even look like myself.
    That same night Wade made a video of us making love. I had protested and tried to get out of doing that, too, but after he’d plied me with about a gallon of wine, I became putty in his hands. He’d whined and pouted so

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