Second Chances (sequel to Over You)

by Christine Kersey

  By the time she fell into bed at the end of the day, she was exhausted, but she called Kyle to tell him about her day.

  “The job sounds promising,” he said.

  “Yeah. I’m really excited about it, actually. I think I’d really like working there.”

  “Good. And guess what? Your aunt’s cabinets were delivered today, so by the time you come back, the kitchen will look a lot different.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll bet Ellen is thrilled.”

  “She seems pretty happy.”

  “Have you heard from Melanie? Has anything else odd happened?” She didn’t mean to link the two, but that’s how it came out.

  “No, and no.”

  Glad he hadn’t thought she was trying to pin the incidents on Melanie—although in the back of her mind she still wondered if she had anything to do with them—she nodded. “Good.”

  They chatted for a while longer, and after they hung up, Jessica read until her eyelids refused to stay open. Hudson curled up against her side as she fell asleep.

  In the dead of night she dreamed that someone was following her, stalking her, rummaging around in her room. She woke with a start, the terrifying feeling from her dream staying with her. Still drowsy, she kept her eyes closed as she tried to think of happy things, trying to push away the feelings from her dream.

  Then she heard the squeak of a floorboard, and her heart leapt into her throat.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  It’s just Hudson, she told herself, but she could feel his warm body snuggled against her hip. Her heart pounded as the feeling of utter terror from her dream came roaring back. It’s just my imagination, she tried convincing herself, but she felt someone in the room. Is it Alex? Surely he wouldn’t hurt me.

  Paralyzed with an unnamed dread, she strained to hear any sound. She wanted to see but she was afraid to open her eyes, afraid for the intruder to know she was awake.

  Better for him to think I’m sleeping, she thought. Then maybe he’ll find what he needs and leave.

  Sweat broke out all over her body, and in only moments she felt like she was suffocating. Desperate to throw back the covers and let in some cool air, she held perfectly still, listening, listening.

  Without warning, a hand came down over her mouth. Her eyes flew open and a scream tried to leave her throat, but was stopped by the pressure of the large hand pressing on her face. The smell of latex was strong and she knew the intruder was wearing gloves. The room was too dark to make out the features of the person leaning over her, but there was no doubt he was a man.

  Rapidly blinking, she tried to comprehend what was happening, but all that she could think was he’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. Just as she realized she still had the use of her body, he jumped on top of her, sitting on her chest, effectively pinning her arms under the covers. Hudson yowled in protest as he was rudely dislodged from his sleeping place.

  Jessica couldn’t move, and in abject terror her mind screamed, What does he want?

  “You listen and you listen good,” he growled, holding up a large knife, then laying it against her throat.

  Her eyes were wide as she tried to focus on what he was saying, but it was difficult to hear him over the pounding of her heart.

  “I’ve sent you enough warnings,” he said, his voice low. “Enough for you to know I’m serious about what I’m going to say.”

  Her eyes were locked on his face, which was in shadow. She tried not to think about the razor-sharp metal pressed against the tender skin of her throat, and instead frantically tried to memorize anything about him. The only thing she noticed was the glint of moonlight on an earring in his left ear.

  “First thing tomorrow morning, you contact Barnes and tell him that you’ve realized you made a mistake in your statement. You know, the one where you claimed Mr. Harrington tried to kill you. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

  Rigid with fear, she didn’t respond.

  “Right?!”

  She moved her head in a slight nod, praying the sharp edge of the knife wouldn’t cut into her skin.

  “Good. Then I want you to change your statement to say that it was all a big misunderstanding. That Mr. Harrington never tried to hurt you, but that he was there to talk to you about a job creating a software program for him.” He stared at her. “Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Now I’m going to take my hand off of your mouth, but if you scream, I will slit your throat. Understand?”

  She was certain her heart was going to pound right out of her chest, but she managed to nod.

  “Good.” He lifted his hand from her mouth. “Tell me what you’re going to tell Barnes.”

  Jessica gulped down a lungful of air, but it was difficult with him sitting on her chest.

  “Speak, Jessica.”

  The way he used her name, like he owned her, made her sick, and she had to swallow repeatedly to keep the bile from climbing her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat seemed to have closed up, because no sound came out. Coughing to clear it, she tried again. This time she managed to speak, though her voice shook. “Tell Barnes I want to change my statement, and that Harrington was there to talk to me about a software job.”

  “Very good.”

  She vividly recalled Harrington shooting at her, hitting her in the leg, and the bullet holes in the wall along the staircase. “What about . . . the . . . the gun?”

  “There’s a perfectly good explanation for that. You see, when your boyfriend showed up, he got angry at Mr. Harrington because he thought the two of you were having an affair, so he attacked Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington was only defending himself.”

  The idea was so absurd that Jessica almost choked out a laugh, but the cold tip of the knife against her neck kept her in check.

  “Repeat it back to me,” he said.

  “When Kyle showed up,” she said, forcing herself to say the words out loud. “He attacked Mr. Harrington because he thought we were having an . . . affair.” She nearly gagged at the idea.

  “And?”

  “And Mr. Harrington was just defending himself.”

  “You need to repeat that to yourself over and over, Jessica. Because that is the same thing you will testify to at the trial.”

  “Barnes isn’t going to believe me.”

  The man laughed, but it had a sinister tone. “It’s up to you to make him believe you.” He shifted slightly, but still held her down. “Now, the other thing you need to remember is that you never found any letters from Mr. Harrington’s mother—or anyone else for that matter. Got that?”

  She didn’t say anything, not wanting to point out that she’d shown some of the letters to her aunt.

  “Do you think you’ll have any trouble following these instructions, Jessica?”

  She just stared, trying to figure out exactly what his earring was. It was silver, but she couldn’t quite tell what the shape was.

  The man slapped her, snapping her attention back to the shadow that was his face.

  “Pay attention,” he said.

  Her gaze became riveted to the darker shadows that were his eyes.

  “You know how I know you’ll follow these instructions?” Evidently he didn’t expect an answer because he went on without waiting for her to speak. “Because if you don’t, I will kill the people you care about. And just so we’re clear, here’s my list.” He held up his fist and raised a finger each time he said a name. “Ellen Parsons, Kyle Judd. And your lovely parents, Jack and Debra Stevens.”

  “No,” Jessica gasped.

  “Oh yes. And I’ll enjoy it.” He gazed at her a moment. “Now, I know you’ll need to meet with Barnes to change your statement, so I’m afraid you’ll have to cut this little trip of yours short. I want this taken care of by the end of the day. That means you’ll have to get up early.” Another brief pause. “I don’t think I need to tell you this, but just to make sure there’s no misu
nderstanding, don’t tell anyone . . .” He leaned closer. “And I mean anyone, that I stopped by for our little chat.” He sat back up. “Understood?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “If you do, I will kill you and the person you tell.” He leaned closer. “Are we clear?”

  Tears filled her eyes and dripped down the sides of her face, then into her ears. “Yes.” Her arms had gone numb from the weight of him pressing down on her.

  Hudson jumped onto the bed and hissed. When the man turned his head to look at him, Jessica’s eyes caught on the glint at his ear, but this time she could make out the shape of a tiny skull.

  “Next time I’ll cut off your whiskers too,” the man said to Hudson, then he looked at Jessica. “That is one ugly cat.” He laughed. “I’m going to leave now, but I know you’re smart enough to not call anyone. Am I right?”

  She nodded.

  “I knew we could come to an understanding.” He stared down at her. “One last thing. Call your boyfriend off of Trey. He has nothing to do with this.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He climbed off of her, and was out of her room before she’d lifted her head from her pillow.

  Stunned by what had just happened, and terrified that the intruder was still in her apartment, she didn’t move for several minutes as she convulsed with sobs. Hudson brushed his face against hers, and when she caught sight of his hairless body, she sobbed harder.

  Then the adrenaline that had filled her veins began to recede, leaving her trembling. Curling onto her side with her legs tucked against her stomach, she cried and shook until she had no tears left.

  With no reappearance of the intruder, she decided he must have left. She climbed out of bed, pulled on a robe, and went into the living room, turning on all the lights as she went. After making sure the front door was securely locked, then searching her small apartment to make sure the man was gone, she went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Her hand shook as she raised the glass to her lips, but she drank it down, then stared at the home that used to feel like a sanctuary, but now felt unsafe and frightening.

  It was three o’clock in the morning, and she knew there was no way she could possibly fall back asleep, so instead, she took a quick shower, then packed up her belongings with the plan to leave as soon as the sun rose. As she got ready, she thought about Thomas Naylor, the man who had given her the information that had allowed all the pieces about Douglas Harrington to fall into place, the man Douglas Harrington had killed. Even though she’d told the police that Douglas had told her he’d killed Thomas, they hadn’t been able to find enough evidence to charge him with Thomas’s murder, so hadn’t charged him with that crime.

  Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about how many lives Douglas Harrington had destroyed, but then she tried to focus on her own tasks, determined that her life and the lives of those she loved wouldn’t be destroyed too.

  By ten o’clock that morning she’d arrived at the police station, and after asking for Detective Barnes, she sat in a hard plastic chair, waiting for him to come out of a meeting. Rehearsing in her mind what she was going to say, she felt anxiety like she’d never felt before. She’d never imagined lying to the police, and she feared what would happen when Barnes didn’t believe her. But more than that, if she were to tell Barnes the truth, she feared the intruder finding out and killing those she loved.

  And she knew that somehow the intruder would find out if she told Barnes what had happened the night before. Obviously the man who’d broken into her apartment had some kind of connection to Douglas Harrington, and Harrington had a lot of connections in this town, so it made complete sense that if she told Barnes the truth, that information would get back to Harrington, and then to the man who promised to kill her loved ones.

  She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans as she mentally urged Barnes to hurry up. She wanted to get this whole mess over with. Not wanting to think about the consequences of her actions, her only goal right then was to do what the intruder had told her to do so she could assure the safety of those she wanted to protect.

  “Jessica?” Barnes said as he walked into the waiting area.

  She jerked her head in his direction, and knew her face showed her nervousness.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “Uh, I just need to talk to you.”

  “Sure. We can use a conference room.” He smiled, like everything was good and normal. “Follow me.”

  She stood on shaky legs, then followed him down a short hallway and into a small conference room.

  He motioned to the table and chairs. “Have a seat.”

  She slid into the nearest one, and stared at the tabletop, before meeting the eyes of the detective.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any new information on the things that have happened to you,” he said as he sat in a chair across from her.

  “That’s not what I’m here to talk about.” Besides, she had no doubt who had done those things now. The intruder had basically confessed by telling her he’d given her warnings. And then the remark he’d made to Hudson about cutting off his whiskers seemed to cinch it. The man clearly didn’t care about anyone or anything but himself, which just helped strengthen Jessica’s resolve to follow his instructions exactly.

  “Okay. What are you here for?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what happened with Douglas Harrington.” Her heart pounded as she prepared to begin lying. “And I realized I wasn’t as precise as I should have been when I gave you my statement.” So far she hadn’t flat-out lied, but she was dancing around the edges of it.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I . . . I need to . . . uh . . . change my statement.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  His eyebrows rose. “Why is that?”

  Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy. “Like I said, as I thought about that day, I realized there were some things I left out.”

  “Tell me what you’d like to change, Jessica.” He smiled, as if this was all routine.

  “Well, you see, I forgot to tell you that Douglas Harrington came to my aunt’s house that day to talk to me about . . . about . . . a software job.”

  Barnes’ eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “A software job?”

  Sweat formed on her upper lip and she wiped it off with a finger. “Yes. I’m a software developer, you know.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I’m aware of that.” He gazed at her. “So you’re telling me he was there to hire you?”

  She nodded, wanting to minimize the number of lies she had to vocalize.

  “Go on.”

  “When Kyle showed up, he got . . . he got upset because he thought that Mr. Harrington and I were . . . well, that we were having an . . . affair.” She nearly choked on that word.

  Barnes tilted his head to one side, like her story was fascinating.

  “We weren’t, of course.” At least that was true. “But like I said, Kyle was upset, and he . . . well . . . he attacked Mr. Harrington, and Mr. Harrington was trying to protect himself.” She was certain Barnes must be able to see her heart pounding right through her shirt, but at least she’d gotten the story out. “So you see, the whole thing was just a big misunderstanding.”

  “Uh huh.” He stared at her for a moment, making her anxiety go up several notches, and she felt sweat trickling down her back. “Who got to you?” he asked. “Was it Trey?”

  Her eyes widened, but she shook her head. “No. No one got to me. I’m just telling you what happened.”

  “And if I bring Kyle in here, he’ll corroborate your story?”

  Hot tears pushed at the backs of her eyes. It was all falling apart, and Kyle’s life, as well as Ellen’s, and the lives of her parents, were all at stake. It was up to her to convince him. She couldn’t back down. “I don’t know. He might not.” Her mind raced to come up with an explanation. “I mean, I know he’s embarrassed about everything, and we talked about what to tell y
ou. But now I just can’t do it.” Tears spilled over her lashes and rolled down her face. “I have to tell you what really happened.” Though the words were false, the tears were so very real.

  He didn’t look convinced. “What you’re telling me is that you and Kyle lied to me about what happened so that you could cover up an assault by Kyle? And now you’re saying that Douglas Harrington is completely innocent?”

  The tears wouldn’t stop, and she pulled a tissue out of her purse and held it against her mouth to muffle the sobs that insisted on escaping. She didn’t speak, just nodded.

  “In your statement you talked about love letters that you found. Letters that led to Douglas Harrington confronting you. You said that he confessed to you that he killed his mother and a man who was actually his biological father.” He gazed at her. “What about that?”

  Blinking several times, she whispered, “I made it all up.”

  He chewed on his lower lip as he stared at her. “Do you realize what this means? This means that both you and Kyle Judd have committed crimes. You’ll probably both go to prison.”

  A fresh wave of sobs overtook her as the reality of his words rolled over her. How could she do this to Kyle? But the other option meant his death.

  “I have to tell you, Jessica,” Barnes said. “I find it very suspicious that after the threats you’ve gotten, that you suddenly come in here and want to change your statement.” He gazed at her. “I think someone’s threatened you.” He paused. “Wait here.” He stood and left the room.

  Chills raced up and down her body, and she rubbed her arms to try to warm them. What is he going to do? Terrified on so many levels, she felt paralyzed.

  She waited for over an hour with no reappearance by Barnes. The waiting was torture. Was he gathering documents to arrest her? Would she spend that night—and many others—in jail? Then she thought about Hudson, who she’d left in her car, and hoped he was okay. The day was pleasant, and she’d left the windows cracked open, so she expected he would be fine, but if they arrested her, she would ask them to give him to Ellen. The thought brought on a fresh bout of sobs.