If someone had told me as I sat at that

Boston Red Sox

game, that I would be fighting for my life and those of my friends a few days later, I would have thought that they were crazy. But here I was, tied to a chair by a diabolical defrocked Jesuit priest, along with the liquor store owner and my friend. We were all helpless. But what did they plan to do with us? “You tormented, sick fool,” I said to the defrocked Father Rich. I realized that I sounded like the Adam West version of “Batman” but didn’t care. We found out that they had been running drugs. They faked deaths at public places and got young people to feel sorry for them and do work for them, including making drug drops. No young person would suspect. Donna got a hit on the head when she got too close to a safe in the closet. Don saw their secret and they sent him a message, but he didn’t keep his mouth shut. And I was a nosy broad who just couldn’t keep her nose in her own business. Now we all had to die. Father Rich had been defrocked for quite some time. He teamed up with the two other con artists and carried out this charade. I had wondered why there was a closed casket at the old lady’s wake. Now I knew. Because there was no body in the coffin, The Texas Holdem Gang was the muscle of the group. They got a little out of line, but they were getting spring. Then “Father Rich” would control them. So this was it/. No more life. That guy would get his “Friends and Neighbors column” back and I would be left to die in this dark, miserable house. It was then that I saw Joe in the window. And behind him were a slew of police. We were saved.