“Look, the tennis bracelet must’ve cost a bundle, the kind of money a socialite would have.” Doc entered the room. “The note was romantic, signed love, B.” Doc opened the curtains and sunlight flooded in. He glanced expectantly outside. “Even the double-penis dildo makes sense. It’s the kind of thing lesbians’ use. Deac, there’s too much evidence to ignore. There’s something else; two other discoveries that I didn’t want to tell you about.”
“Tell me,” Deacon said resignedly.
“The neighbor described Cynthia’s lover to me. The description matches Star to a T.”
“Means nothin’, there are plenty of tall hot blondes in St. Louis.”
“I thought so, too, until I asked about her voice.”
“What’d she say?”
Doc looked deep into Deacon’s pain-filled eyes, “Sexy and raspy.”
“It’s bullshit. There are tons of those around, too.”
Doc took a deep breath. “Worth a thousand words they say,” he took a folded square from his shirt pocket and handed it to Deacon.
One crease at a time, Deacon unfolded the faxed copy of a society page photo. Arrows pierced every nerve in Deacon’s body. The caption read Bridget Luna; the face was Star’s.
*****
Doc stood helplessly by as Deacon soaked the information from the page. Deacon’s hands trembled. His eyes glassed over. He attacked the page in what seemed to be a muscle spasm, crushing it into a tight ball. He convulsed, and fell backward, a limp, sodden mass.
“Deacon, Deacon, you okay?” Doc anxiously shook his friend. Deacon did not respond. His lifeless eyes were open, the pupils dilated. His hand fell open, and the waded paper dropped to the floor. His breath came slow and labored; all color drained from his face. Doc had seen this once before. Deacon was in a stress-induced coma. There was nothing to do but wait.
“Why murder her lover?” Doc wondered aloud. He drew a circle around Cynthia Ann Thomas with the black marker. He doodled and drew a headless stick figure. He reviewed the list looking for common denominators. Star’s emphasis on C A T caught his attention.
Deacon groaned. “Wha’ happe’ed?” He asked with difficulty. He sat up and ran searching fingers across the bed.
“On the floor,” Doc pointed to the paper. “There.”
With stiff mechanical movements, Deacon retrieved the wad, opened it, and stretched out the wrinkles. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and splashed on the page.
Doc sat next to him on the bed. “Deac, I know how hard this must be, and I’m sorry. I don’t think we have a lot of time. We need to figure a coupla’ things out; we’ve gotta get goin’. We don’t know where she is or what she’s up to.” He tapped the cardboard with the marker. “Look, look at this. Do you think the reason for selecting this particular woman could be so simple?”
“I don’t understand.”
He touched the bold underlined initials. “The first letters of her name, they’re an acronym.
“The spelling’s different, but the name’s the same. Her nickname could be the same as my Katherine’s, like a message.”
“Doc, it’s such a stretch. You’re being paranoid. There has to be a logical explanation for the Bridget Luna thing. The two of you are really making me crazy. Star says I can’t trust you; you say she’s the one. I love you both. Somehow, you both must be wrong.”
“It doesn’t seem odd to you this is the only victim that Star drew a line under?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about the photo? You can’t say it isn’t Star.”
“No, but the caption could easily be wrong, or Photoshopped.”
“Deacon, can’t you see what she’s doing to you? Since she arrived, everything in your life has turned to shit. I don’t know why, or how, but it’s her.”“If you’re right, she won’t come back here because she knew you were coming, right?”
“Yep, there’s no way in hell she’s comin’ back. I told her on the phone that I know she’s up to somethin’. She won’t risk a confrontation with me, not in front of you. She won’t be back, and I’m equally sure we haven’t heard the last of her. She’s gone to a whole lot of trouble to make you look and feel guilty. I’m sure it isn’t over.”
“Doc, while we’re on the subject of trust, there’s something I need to ask. It’s about our partnership. Star says she saw an agreement that says if anything happens to me, you get the business. She says you’re tryin’ to get me out of the way, so D-K-D will be all yours again.”
The color drained from Doc’s face. “Deacon, I was afraid; I didn’t know what to believe. The circumstantial evidence all points to you. Even though I always said I was sure of your innocence, I had my doubts. I was worried about my family. Kat called the kids and asked them to stay at school. They think we’re havin’ marital problems. We thought it better they think that, rather than tell them the truth. With all of your talk of a split personality, I honestly didn’t know if I could trust you. Kat and I agreed, like it or not, we had to protect ourselves financially as well as physically and emotionally.
“Deac, I hope you can forgive me. Now I know it was unnecessary. You could never hurt anyone. I had my doubts; however, look at it this way. You still have yours. I’ve proven to you that it’s Star, and not you or me. Still, you don’t believe me.”
“Doc, you could be wrong. The victims were raped. Star couldn’t have done that. If she is involved, she’s not alone.”
“There are a lot of things I can’t explain: your dreams, the bloody shirt, and the rapes. However, there are definite connections between Star and the victims. What about her mood swings, and the way she sometimes treats you? The writing is on the wall. You don’t see her walking back through that door, do you?” Doc pointed at the heavily marred door. “True, she isn’t back, but I wouldn’t call that missing. She’s been gone less than two hours. Let’s wait a little while and see. The big question remains. If she did this, how is it that the two women were found with AB negative semen?”
“I agree, it doesn’t add up. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, she killed Garvin Brown. If she killed him in self-defense, why did she cut him in half? No body does that, except in the movies. You’d need a sharp knife and a saw. It matches with the scripture that your father made you memorize after you swiped the puppy.”
“You have a point. Let’s even say you’re right. Why would she do it? It was quite a risk killing someone in such a public place.”
“He could have surprised her at the bar. The brunette with the scar and Star could be partners. Somehow, they got him into the alley, killed him, and as an afterthought cut him in half to make it look like you were involved. Whoever is responsible is doin’ a great job.”
Doc and Deacon sat side-by-side on the bed waiting for Star to return.
*****
For the first several years, after James David ran away, depression gnawed at Grace Jones. When an Easter Sunday stroke left the Reverend incapacitated, she became his primary caregiver. The responsibility repulsed Grace; however, in the end, the responsibility saved her life. Her life became all about him and left her little time for other thoughts. She was alone and lonely in her own home with her husband in the room. After a time the rote, daily routine became nearly unbearable. She felt trapped. Guilt and obligation kept her mouth closed and her hands busy. For Grace it was living without breathing.
When the Reverend suggested that she volunteer at the hospital, she was thrilled. The children filled an emotional chasm in her life. She looked forward to daybreak, and she resented her husband less.
It was a late October day, more than eleven years since James David had walked away. Grace, who was never sick, awoke with an unusual throbbing headache. Because of her devotion to the children, she took two Extra Strength Bufferin and drove to the hospital with her head still pounding.
The first couple of hours were difficult; she struggled to maintain her composure. An RN saw her steady herself against the nurses’ statio
n. She pressed the back of her hand against Grace’s forehead and ordered her to lie down in an empty room.
A physician’s quick examination came with a diagnosed touch of flu and a prescription for rest. A little before two o’clock in the afternoon she convinced herself that she was well enough to drive. She made her way outside, with uncertain steps, and drove home in a daze. For the first time ever, Grace was three hours early.
The black van on the road ahead looked familiar. Oddly, it led Grace on the route home. A coincidence, she thought until it turned into the vacant lot next door. It’s the same one.
The driver’s door swung open. A tall straight man immersed in thought, stepped down, and started toward the parsonage. A shocked Reverend and a perplexed Grace came face-to-face in the edge of the lawn.
*****
“Reverend, mercy sakes!” Mrs. Jones stumbled over a landscape of even grass and broken syllables. “What are you do… your eyes, driving? How…” Without warning, she fainted and fell backward in the thick flora.
The Reverend rushed to catch her, and cradled her head an inch before it reached the ground. “Take it easy,” he said in a soothing voice. He caressed his wife’s cheek. “Lie still.”
*****
When Grace regained consciousness, bombarded with a surreal recollection of what she saw, she was lying on her own bed with no memory of how she got there. I must be sicker than the Doctor said.
She focused. The Reverend was sitting next to her. His piercing green eyes traced her movements. She was not dreaming. Reverend Jones could see.
“What happened?” She asked angrily. “I don’t understand.” She strained to lift herself. Her head throbbed.
“Lie still. Don’t try to move. I’m sorry I’ve given you such a shock. Let me explain. There’s so much to say. There’s much for you and I to do. Our son needs us. You’re burning up. Are you sick?”
“I have the flu. Never mind me, what do you know about James David?”
“Grace, first I want you to know…no…no…no, I’m so stupid. I never say anything right. What I mean is I desperately need you to know that I love you!”
Grace hung on his words, shocked by the sudden change. She looked into his eyes to see if what he said was true. They were clear and unmoving. She saw only sincerity.
“I realize now, actually, I have for quite some time, the error of my ways. In the way I’ve treated you and James David, I have sinned. In so many ways I have sinned against God, my family, and man. I am deeply and truly sorry.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. With a handkerchief from his pocket, he lovingly caught the warm drops. He continued in low sincere tones. “I have already sworn my repentance to God, and asked for His forgiveness. Now, I am begging for yours?”
This man did not even sound like the Reverend, who had not called her Grace since the day they brought baby James David home from the hospital. He did sound like the young John Jones she had married. “John, I love you, too.” She said. Her heart forgave him. She sensed a profound change fill the room, which suffused by the afternoon sun slanting through dingy windowpanes, swelled with magical shadows and shards of light. It purified the inhabitants, awash in shades of crimson and yellow, through recrimination and forgiveness.
Two people who had once known each other found again, first themselves then their half. That aloof part of each, which had been the Reverend and Mrs. Jones, became ethereal and left, first the room, then the house, and finally the planet. John Jones and his wife, Grace, became again a couple with only a trace of a memory that they had suffered together at their own hands and at the will of circumstance.
John engulfed Grace in his arms, and repeatedly told her how sorry he was, how much he loved her, and most important of all, how it was not too late.
She echoed his remorse with her words, and thanked God with her thoughts.
“Now, I have much to explain. I’ll begin at the beginning.” He stretched out on the bed and slid his right arm under her neck.
She rolled toward him. “Take your time darling. I want—I must understand everything. Tell me.”
John explained that, after his stroke, what the Doctor had said was true. He had lost most of his eyesight. His prognosis for how quickly and well he would heal was completely wrong. Miraculously, his vision rapidly returned. It was then, that he had perfected a plan, which had haunted him for a long time. When he lay in the hospital, it all seemed hopeless. Later, when his health improved, he took it as a sign from God, a second chance for an old man who had made more bad decisions than good.
“Grace, there were so many times I wanted to talk to you, to tell you how I felt. I wanted to say I was better, but you were so angry. I believed the only way to restore your faith in me was to carry out my plan. I was convinced that when I did, you would see me as I was in the beginning of our life together and forgive me.
“When I first learned where James lives, it was a blessing and a curse. I had long anticipated that day. When it finally came, I was afraid. I was frightened of what I might find. Some time passed. Finally, I gathered myself up. I prayed to God for guidance and strength, and I went.
“Grace, I was so touched by what I saw. Our son has grown up to be a very handsome young man. He’s tall, slim, and looks so much like my brother. His hair is dark brown, and he wears it rather long. In the past, I would have never approved, but I no longer care about those things. I only care about him. Grace, he looks so good.”
John paused, cried a little, and then continued. “I followed him. Every afternoon he went to one bar or another, and he always stayed well into the evening. I slipped up to the entrance on several occasions. I saw him always the center of attention in a world, which is the exact opposite of ours.” He sighed, and relaxed his muscles. The telling seemed to drain his energy.
“John, how did you do this without me knowing? I understand the van and how you could leave while I was working, but at night you were always here.”
“You only thought I was here. We go to bed so early, and you have never checked on me. I would wait a half-hour and sneak out; it was easy.”
“Does he really look like David? What does he do?” Sadness swept over Grace. Her expression softened. “Is there a woman in his life? I feel like we have missed so much. More than anything, I want to recover something of those lost years. Maybe we can be a family again.” She stopped, and released a thick sigh.
“There is something I need to confess. It has weighed heavily on my conscience for a while now. It’s difficult.” She took a deep breath as though trying to inhale strength. “After James left, my world crumbled. You and I were at odds. You had the stroke, and I began to feel that God did not care. I am ashamed to admit this. I began to question the existence of God. I decided that if He does exist, He is a cruel and unloving God. John, I lost my faith.” She gasped, and drew herself in, clinging to her husband.
“I know, dear. I have always known. I saw it in your face. You couldn’t see my eyes through the dark glasses, but I saw yours. I knew exactly how you felt. Because—because, Grace, the exact same thing happened to me.”
“Really?” she was genuinely surprised. She pulled away a little to see his face. Tears washed down his cheeks. She kissed the wet streams, and tasted a certain salty relief.
“Thanks, for telling me.” She said lovingly. “You know there was a time when you would never have admitted that. I shan’t remind you of your faults. However, do you know you’ve never told me you were sorry for anything, not ever? Not until today.”
“I don’t mind you pointing out my shortcomings. I want to hear you. It feels like a part of my penance.” John’s words were foreign to Grace. “I have been my own worst enemy far too long. Everything has changed. I have found myself. I have again found God, my son, and best of all, I found YOU!”
“Tell me more about my son,” she implored, “describe him to me, every feature.”
“More than anything, he looks like his father, my brother, l
ike David.”
“I knew it. I knew he would. John, you know we did the right thing. It was important we raise him as if he belonged to both of us. We owed it to David. We owed it to ourselves.”
“You’re right. I just had so much resentment. What bothered me most was David’s lifestyle, and I was jealous of his connection with you. He lived his life his way. Not me, society, or the church were able to compel him to conform. I resented him for that.”
“It’s true I loved David. It was a special kind of love. I tried to keep my feelings for him from interfering with you and me. I made a commitment to you. I vowed to love, honor, and obey, and I did my best to be true to what I said. Sometimes it was just too hard.”
John’s expression saddened, he sighed, and then he answered. “It was never the same for me. I never had the kind of connection with him that you did.”
“He wanted a relationship with you.”
“I know, I couldn’t, and now it’s too late. This is just one of the burdens I carry. More importantly, I believe that James David truly needs us. I do not wish to repeat past mistakes. We must help him.”
“Is he all right?” Her voice quivered. “What has happened?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. I did know where he was and now he’s disappeared. One night back in April in an alley behind a bar, someone mutilated a black man. James had nothing to do with the murder, but he was there. After that, his behavior radically changed. Before, he was predictable. After that night, he was erratic. He works in a motorcycle shop. He dresses well, lives in a nice house in Kirkwood, and appears to be some kind of a manager. He knows where we are. He was here. He followed us to the nursing home just a few days ago.”
“What,” her voice raised, “he was close to us, came to see us, and you didn’t tell me?”
“It wasn’t so simple. I wasn’t ready to tell you about my deception. If I’d known then what I know now, I would have walked up to him, put my arms around him, and told him I love him; but I didn’t. You can add that to my lifelong list of mistakes.”
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