The Perfect Deception

by Lutishia Lovely

  “Why not just call the number on the black phone?”

  “And say what? That we arrested Jessica and have a few questions for them?”

  “Ah, yes. That might be problematic. I guess that’s why you’re the detective.”

  “The job is harder than it looks. Do you have time to meet this evening?”

  “I’ll make time.What about around eight?”

  “You want to meet at the sports bar?”

  “Given the game that girl was running, sounds like the perfect place.”

  Two days later, Jessica sat on the couch in her condo, looking for her life. Still in shock from her first time ever behind bars and the fiasco leading up to being arrested, she was just trying to find normal so that she could function, even if only in the most basic way. By now, she thought this whole sordid situation would have been behind her, that she’d have given her sister the wonderful news, the motion for a new trial would have been filed, and she and Sissy would be busy planning their Miami life. Instead, she was fighting to not join her sister behind bars.

  Sissy!

  Being locked up for three days could change one’s priorities. Her sister was not how she’d used her one allowed call. Jessica walked over to the counter, where the new burner phone was still in its package. She tore it open, knowing that her sister was by now probably out of her mind.

  She got voice mail. Considering the new number, she was not surprised. “Sissy, it’s me. I know you’ve been waiting. You’re not going to like what I have to tell you, but call me anyway.”

  The phone rang two minutes later.

  “Sis—”

  “What the hell, Jessie?!”

  However upset Jessica had imagined her sister would be? Sissy was madder than that.

  “I can’t friggin’ believe you’ve kept me waiting for three whole days. Do you know what you’ve put me through? Don’t answer that. I really don’t care. And then leave me a cryptic message that only irked me more? I’m so angry at you right now, Jessie, you would not believe!” She finally paused to take a breath. “Just tell me that asshole is dead.”

  “Nathan’s still alive. I just got out of jail.”

  Sissy was silent for a very long time. Jessica waited, preferring silence to the continued tirade.

  “What happened?”

  “Nathan deceived me! He sent some of the juice I’d given him to a doctor for testing, found out what was in it, and then tricked me into thinking he was still getting sick.”

  “How is that possible? I’ve never heard of someone guessing antifreeze was in their food.”

  Jessica closed her eyes and swallowed the truth. Telling Sissy about the antifreeze under the sink wouldn’t change a thing. Instead, she mixed the facts with a bit of creative storytelling. “He just happened upon an article about it, and realized the symptoms they mentioned were all the ones he experienced. So he sent some doctor friend a sample. My goose was cooked. After Nate confronted me at the storage space, he had the police waiting outside. I’m so sorry, Sissy.”

  “I can’t believe this. I trusted you with my life!”

  “I tried my best—”

  “You failed! End of story! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you to be able to come through on this. You’re pathetic.”

  Tears flowed. Jessica didn’t bother wiping them away.

  “Sissy, can I come see you? Maybe together we can figure out something else to do.”

  “Come for a visit? You can’t be serious. I asked you to do one thing and it didn’t get done. Thanks to you, I might not get out of here for a very long time.”

  “What about me, Sissy? Because of trying to help you, I’m facing time, too!”

  “No, you’re facing time because you screwed up!” An expletive punched her eardrum before Sissy ended the call.

  So shocked was she at the venomous good-bye, Jessica actually looked at the phone, then let it drop to the floor. It skidded across her polished hardwoods, landing against the baseboard. So shocked that her tears dried up and her mind stopped working. So shocked that she curled up on the couch, the most comfortable place she had laid her head in seventy-two hours, and fell asleep.

  She awoke two hours later, hoping that the past few days had been a horrible nightmare. One look at the new burner phone on the floor brought everything back. Nathan was alive. She’d gone to jail. That was real. But what couldn’t be true was what Sissy had spewed in anger. There’s no way the sister who so much wanted them to be together, to live in the same house, could want to be left alone.

  “She was just angry,” Jessica told herself as she retrieved the phone and redialed Sissy’s number. She waited until the end of the beep. “Sissy, it’s me. I know you’re angry and disappointed. So am I! More than that, I’m scared. Please call me back.”

  By the end of the day, she’d called her sister half a dozen times with no response. For the first time since reconnecting with her sister, Jessica felt bereft and utterly alone. Most of her life, it had been this way. Only now, having experienced the closeness of sisterhood and the love of her life, the loneliness felt much worse.

  There was no one to talk to, no one to help her. Until an image flashed before her eyes and she sensed a lifeline. The person she had contacted with her one allowed phone call. She picked up the burner phone without hesitation. Again, the call wasn’t answered, but she didn’t mind.

  “Vincent, it’s Jessica. When you get this message, can you please call?”

  CHAPTER 46

  Nathan stood as Ralph approached his table, located away from the TVs in the popular bar’s quieter section. “Ralph.”

  “Nate.”

  They gave each other dap.

  Ralph held up his hand to get a waitress’s attention. “How was your day?”

  “Pretty good, all things considered. I sent off a sample of what was in the syringe. We should have the results in seven to fourteen days. What about you?”

  “Interesting.” Ralph pulled out a small notepad.

  Nathan’s brow arched. “Wow, you’re old school. I didn’t realize people still put pen to paper.”

  “Hey, man, don’t look down on this lowly beginning. When the electricity and satellites fail, man can still communicate with a writing instrument and a surface.”

  “You’ve got a point.”

  “Plus there’s something about writing things out that helps me gain perspective.”

  The waitress came over with a bowl of pretzels and nuts. Ralph ordered a pitcher of beer. He opened his notepad. “I spent some time today going over the numbers found in Ms. Bolton’s cell phone logs. Those on her regular cell phone were fairly easily identified: you, of course; takeout spots; utility companies; her workplace; the usual stuff. There was only one number connected to a name: Vincent Givens. Do you know him?”

  Despite her efforts to kill him, the name still made him frown. “He’s one of the attorneys at the law firm where she works as a receptionist. I suspect he might be more than that.”

  A raised brow was Ralph’s only physical reaction. “Any reason to believe he has something to do with this?”

  “I’ve never met him, don’t really know much about him. But could he be involved? Sure, why not? After what I just lived through, I no longer believe anything is impossible.”

  Ralph jotted down a few notes, flipped the page and turned the small notebook toward Nathan. “What about this number? Do you recognize it?”

  Nathan shook his head. “No, I don’t. Was this on her throwaway phone?”

  “Yes, and it was the only number she received calls from, and the only number she called.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I thought so. Unfortunately, the number is to a burner phone as well. I’m working with the phone company to establish the tower it was using, which will give us a location, but not the cell phone owner’s identity. One thing is clear: Either Ms. Bolton or this caller wanted to keep these communications private and confidential.” Ralph shook a few pe
anuts in his hand before tossing them into his mouth. “There’s a part on the tape where she mentions a sister, near the end, in a whisper. Doing this for her sister, helping her sister . . .”

  Nathan snapped his finger. “She has a sister!”

  He recalled a conversation early on in their dating, the aged picture he saw in her condo and the rambling confession Jessica mumbled just before she planned to give him the shot to end his life.

  Ralph flipped through the pages of his notepad, found what he was looking for and read, “I don’t want to do this. I don’t! But it’s the only way to help my sister. She’s the only family I’ve got, and this is the only way to free her.” He looked at Nathan. “Does that mean anything to you?”

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “No, but on the way to the storage unit, when she thought I was sleeping, someone called. I couldn’t make out the words on the other end but it was definitely a female voice.”

  Ralph scribbled and Nathan pondered as the waitress returned with a frothing pitcher and two cold mugs. Ralph filled both of the mugs, then took a healthy swig.

  “Anyone other than her sister that you can think of: friends, coworkers, neighbors she might have mentioned?”

  Nathan’s mug remained untouched. “Now that I think about it, there’s very little about Jessica that I truly know. Other than Vincent, her ex, and this sister, she never spoke of family, friends, or past work associates. Her marriage ended badly. To my knowledge she has no contact with her ex. She was born in New Orleans but has no memories of that city, moved to Oakland when still quite young. Her parents died, and she went into the foster care system, an experience she didn’t like to talk about.”

  Ralph nodded as he took notes.

  “I can’t figure it out.” Nathan reached for his mug, took a thoughtful sip. “How would killing me help anybody, especially someone who I don’t know and Jessica hasn’t seen for years?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It’s what she told me. Which means it’s probably not true.”

  “I’ll check to see whether Bolton is her married or maiden name. If the latter, I’ll look for Boltons wherever the person she was calling resides.” Nathan let out a frustrated sigh. “It might take time to connect the dots between points A and B. But we’ll get there.”

  Ralph placed the notepad back in his suit coat pocket, sat back and picked up his beer.

  “Is she out yet?”

  “Posted bail this afternoon.”

  Nathan felt conflicted. The woman who’d just tried to kill him was also the last woman he’d made love to, the same one he’d asked to be his wife just one month ago.

  “Does she have an attorney, or is she using a public defender?”

  “I don’t have that information, Nathan. But I can check.”

  “How long before she goes to trial?”

  Ralph shrugged. “Hard to say. Could be anywhere from a few months to a year or more, depending on the attorneys, the judge, and the court load. Have you secured an attorney?”

  “Not yet. I hate to think this ordeal might last that long.”

  “It might not, but I’m giving you worst case. If that happens and this thing drags on, are you ready to stay the course and put her behind bars? You need to get a lawyer ASAP, who can tell you your options, plea deals, et cetera. I know one in particular I can recommend. He’s a shark in the courtroom, with stellar credentials and an excellent record.”

  “Sure. Shoot me the contact information.”

  Ralph pulled out his phone. “I’ll do that right now.”

  Nathan saved the information on his cell phone, still marveling that instead of looking for a preacher and honeymoon destinations, he was looking for somebody to help him lock his ex away.

  “Come on, Jessica. You’ve got to eat.”

  “Quit, Vincent! I’m not hungry. Leave me alone.”

  It was Friday, six days after the mess at the storage unit, four days since she returned home from jail and told Vincent everything. She’d called Sissy dozens of times. Today when she phoned, a message informed her that the number she’d reached was no longer in service.

  Vincent sat at the end of the couch, near where Jessica lay curled on her side. “Sweetheart, I’m worried about you. You can’t survive without food.”

  She raised her head enough to look at him through swollen, bloodshot eyes. “Who says I want to?”

  “Come on now, beautiful. Don’t even joke like that.”

  Falling back on the pillow, she muttered, “What do I have to live for?”

  “Everything! I know you’re hurting now, but I’m here for you. And I’m not going to leave. We’ll get through this together!”

  “What’s the point!” Jessica sat up as she yelled, looking like a banshee with her wrinkled clothes, uncombed hair, and a dirty look. She grabbed the pillow beside her, hugging it as she rocked back and forth. “I almost killed someone. The person I did it for, my sister, isn’t speaking to me. You grew up with family around you, people who loved you. You don’t know what it’s like to be thrown away and passed around like yesterday’s garbage. To have no friends, no one to trust except yourself. It’s been that way all my life. Until my sister helped me get out of a bad situation and laid out plans where we could be together. . . her and me.”

  “Then if that’s what you want, I’ll help you find her.”

  “I know where she is.”

  “Then since she won’t take your calls, we’ll go to her house.”

  Jessica snorted. “We’ll need more than an address to get in.” She took in Vincent’s look of confusion. “She’s in prison, a women’s facility in North Carolina.”

  “Damn. For what?”

  “Nothing, to hear her tell it. Except having an affair with Randall Atwater, Sherri’s husband. So they had her framed for a murder she didn’t commit.”

  Vincent whistled. “That’s a hefty charge. And she was convicted?”

  “But she didn’t do it!”

  “I’m not saying I don’t believe you. There’s a lot of innocent people sitting in jail. How’d she get mixed up with Sherri’s husband?”

  “He’s a scientist. She’s a writer who covered that industry for magazines and stuff. They met at a conference.”

  “Interesting.” Vincent reached for his laptop. “What’s her name?”

  “Jamie, but professionally she went by Jacqueline. Jacqueline Tate.”

  Vincent plugged the name into a search engine. Several links appeared right away, all connected to articles she’d written. He clicked on images. “Wow! Good looks run in the family. She’s beautiful.”

  “Yes . . . she is.”

  “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “It’s been a very long time, over ten years. We haven’t shared a home since I was five and Sissy—Jamie—was ten. That’s why I would have done anything . . .”

  Vincent set aside his computer and took Jessica in his arms. “Tell me about those early years. They had to be wonderful, for the two of you to go to the lengths you did to get back together.”

  “I don’t remember a lot of it, to tell you the truth. I wish I did.”

  “Why not ask your sister?”

  “She doesn’t like talking about our childhood, doesn’t like being reminded about our parents’ death.”

  “What about an aunt, uncle, or cousin? You’ve said she’s all you have but are you sure? Maybe there are relatives you don’t know about.”

  For a moment Jessica didn’t move, barely breathed. Then, slowly, she turned her head to meet Vincent’s eyes. “Sissy always said all we had was each other. I never questioned it, never thought to search for myself.” The flicker of light in her eyes dimmed quickly. “But why would I do that now, when even if I found someone there’s a good chance I won’t have the freedom to visit?”

  “At least you’d know. Family means the world to you. The reaction to your sister’s callous disregard is proof of that. How would you feel to know there is s
omeone else out there who might be related? Maybe a couple, maybe a dozen? What if there were other family with whom you could connect?”

  Jessica changed the subject but what Vincent had suggested stayed at the forefront of her mind. So much so that early the next morning she fired up her iPad, used a variety of search engines, and two hours later completed her search. Shortly after Vincent got off work and arrived at her house she placed a call to Canada—her true birthplace.

  “Please answer,” she said, nervously gnawing on a fingernail. She pushed the speaker button as the phone continued to ring.

  Just as she was about to end the call, someone answered. “Hello?”

  “Um, yes, I’m looking for Mrs. Hurley.”

  “Which one?”

  Nerves had made her mouth dry. “Iris,” she eked out, reaching for a glass of water on the table.

  “One moment.”

  Jessica almost spewed out the drink she’d just taken. Vincent gave her leg a reassuring squeeze. The wait was only a minute but felt like eternity.

  “Hello?”

  The sound of a shrill voice she barely remembered almost brought tears. “Mrs. Hurley?”

  “Yes, dear. Who’s this?”

  “Someone from a long time ago, that you might not remember. My name is Jessie Barnes. My sister’s name is Jamie. We’re the ones whose parents—”

  “Got killed in the fire! Of course, I remember you. Oh, my word! This is the little one, Jessie? Lord, I can’t believe this! What a wonderful surprise. I thought about you down through the years and wondered what became of you. I’d asked around but you never returned. Understandable, though. So tragic what happened, what your sister did.”

  Jessica frowned slightly. “Well, we survived, my sister and I, and that’s sort of why I’m calling. As far as I know, Sissy is my only living blood relative—”

  “Is that what she told you?”

  Jessica looked at Vincent, who mouthed encouragement. Go on.

  “Yes, but I thought maybe our parents had siblings and there may be cousins or other kin that I don’t know.”

  “If there are, I don’t know them. Your daddy pretty much kept to himself. Your mama was friendly but never talked about brothers or sisters. She told me about Jamie, though, a bad seed that one . . . very bad.”