Priscilla staggered to her feet and shouldered open the sliding glass door leading to the courtyard.She held her long denim skirt as she ran, and told herself not to panic.The pink bath was room, the only one in the mansion Cullen had not personally supervised; with its giant mirrors, sunken marble tub, crystal chandelier, and the catbox next to the bidet, it was the one place that reflected her personality.She loved to sit yoga fashion in front of the mirror, doing her eyebrows.Anyway, the door that opened onto the breakfast room was unlocked.
She banged on a door, screaming, “My name is Priscilla Davis. He is killing everyone…” Rattling around in her million mansion, Priscilla thanked God Thanksgiving had passed and prayed now to get through Christmas.
She was the kind who could keep a cat and a canary in the same room.” Andrea loved to cook, too.
For weeks after the funeral Priscilla would open the hotel-size refrigerator and discover small concoctions that Andrea had stored. Stan was in his grave: Stan Farr, “the Bear,” the gentle giant, the former TCU basketball player and lovable hardlucker. Bubba Gavrel, a 21-year-old boyfriend of Dee’s friend Bev Bass, was still partially paralyzed from his gunshot wound.
He was dressed in all black, wore a woman’s black wig, and kept both hands inside a black plastic bag.
He said “Hi,” then shot Priscilla through the chest.
Her oldest daughter, Dee Davis, born eighteen years ago when Priscilla herself was just a teenager, had come home from her freshman year at Texas Tech and personally supervised Thanksgiving dinner.