77
Sunday, June 15th, 1986, 11:57 A.M.
The identity of the now established corpse still could not be verified by Kathy until she saw his face, even though everything she’d seen up to this moment looked eerily familiar. After wondering what Charlotte’s next move was going to be, her curiosity was quickly sufficed when Charlotte unexpectedly grabbed the man’s left arm and flipped him over on his back. Being dead weight, she had to use almost every muscle in her body.
Everyone in the room let out a small gasp at the sight of a dead man’s face. His eyes were closed, something that might not have happened if he’d had an instant heart seizure. But that thought did not enter any of the girl’s minds right away. He also had no blood coming out of his mouth, nor any cocaine residue around his nostrils. All of this evidence would have seemed immediately peculiar to any standard police detective who was initially told that the man died from a cocaine overdose.
Kathy could now see who he was. Sure enough, it was Anton Khudobin, the private detective that she had hired to investigate Charlotte’s mischievous business dealings.
This was incredible. Thousands of thoughts raced through Kathy’s mind in a nanosecond. Most notably, the assumption that Charlotte had Rocco kill this man and place him in Belinda’s bed in some sickening attempt to frame her and make it look like an accident.
“But, why?” thought Kathy. “Why? Why not have the body disposed of in the usual, mobster type way?”
Kathy’s silent pondering was suddenly interrupted—
“So, Belinda, who is this guy?” asked Charlotte, continuing with her false front.
“I told you, Charlotte, I have no idea!” proclaimed Belinda. “Why don’t you believe me?!”
Charlotte instantly changed her attitude and her disposition.
“Okay… Okay, Belinda, I believe you… I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry… I believe you,” Charlotte professed.
Charlotte walked around the end of the bed, right past Kathy’s cold, staring eyes, and approached Belinda. She took Belinda into her arms and embraced her tighter than she ever had in her entire life. Her consoling seemed to create an instantaneous air of relaxation that permeated throughout the entire room.
“It’s okay, baby, I believe you,” stated Charlotte, as she hugged Belinda with all her might. “We all do… And we all love you… You know that, don’t you?”
Belinda could not speak. She only nodded her head.
Everyone felt a sense of relief.
Everyone except for Kathy.
Kathy’s mind was filled with fury and anger. She wanted to scream out to her cherished family and expose Charlotte for what she was: a lying, cheating, scheming, little brat, who only wanted to control all of the people that surrounded her in her life in some kind of twisted, freakish way.
But she couldn’t.
Kathy’s immediate instincts were to keep the family intact.
It was all she ever wanted.
If she said something, that might be the end of it all. She didn’t want that.
She couldn’t have that.
Kathy’s only option was to keep quiet and confront Charlotte in private. This approach would also give her ample amount of time to plot-out what she would say to her and how to go about it. It would not be easy.
Kathy was well aware that Charlotte did not get to where she was in life by being careless and leaving a lot of loose ends lying around. On top of all that, Kathy had no proof of anything. By having Mr. Khudobin murdered, Charlotte had virtually taken all the bullets out of her gun. She had no ammunition left.
Until Kathy realized something—
Just like Barney Fife, she had a bullet in her pocket.
And if all else failed…
She would use it.