Cuts like a knife

by Dana Monahan

  Joe rambled on as they walked. With a deadpan expression, James looked straight ahead. "The bartender at Leroy’s is a witness. He heard you tell Sierra that you wished she was dead. I’ve talked to anyone I could think of, but nobody saw Sierra after she left the bar.” Joe paused, hoping to get some sort of reaction, anything, but it was obvious James had closed himself off to everything around him. “Her body was pumped up with a lot of crank. At least there was no proof of sexual intercourse. They won’t be able to nail you for being with a minor.”

  "Look, Yale, spare me the chatter. My brains numb trying to figure this thing out. I can't think anymore, and I want to be left alone," James spoke slowly, enunciating the last words to make his point.

  James had racked his brain for answers, but he always came up blank, leaving him more desolate than before. Plus, missing Kelly was putting him on edge, but pushing her away had been his only recourse. Seeing her pain tore him apart and resigned him to his fate. For some reason, he was destined to be alone. One thing his parents had taught him was to fend for himself. At least he had good memories now to help him through the long nights. For a short while, he had experienced the joy of being loved and sharing his life. That would have to be enough.

  Chapter 10

  The drive home seemed to drag on as Billie constantly assured Kelly everything would turn out all right. A torrential flood of tears fell heedlessly as Kelly let her grief consume her. Deep, racking sobs shook her small shoulders as she repeated James’ name over and over.

  "It’s going to work out; just hold on, Kel. I’m sure that he didn't mean it," Billie hadn’t witnessed their conversation, but surely James wouldn’t say anything to hurt Kel this bad. “I’m sure he was just venting or something. Don’t take it personally.”

  After wiping her red, swollen eyes with the back of the hand, Kelly turned to Billie. Her look was so desolate, Billie turned away to watch the road.

  "He did mean it, Billie. I know him.” Kelly’s voice was resigned and she spoke so softly Billie had to strain to hear her. “I know that look. If he gets something in his head, he’ll stick with it. The hardest part of all this is not knowing who did it. Not being able to help. God, someone murdered Sierra." Then vehemently, as if to force Billie into believing it, she stated, "He didn't do it. I'd swear it on my life! Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?”

  "You don't have to convince me. I just can’t make myself believe it really happened.” Her voice choked up at the thought. “We’ll never see Sierra again."

  "I guess we all need to make plans to go to the rock." Resting her head back against the seat, Kelly looked confused.

  "You don't have to go, Kel. Under the circumstances, I think everyone would understand," stated Billie, solemnly.

  "A pact’s a pact.” Kelly traced the slight scar on her palm. “She needs a cross, and we all need each other now to mourn the loss of one of our own."

  ----------------

  Kelly and Billie walked through the yellow wildflowers into theclearing. Billie took in a deep sharp breath at her first glimpse of Brody. She had seen him a few times over the last two years when he came home for holidays, but he had a job that kept him away in the summer. His long black hair still hung defiantly at his shoulders, but his body was distinctly leaner and there was a certain maturity in his expression. Glancing up at the sound of their arrival, he opened his arms to Kelly. She broke into a run and hurtled herself in his strong, warm embrace and burst into a fresh bout of tears.

  "I came as soon as I heard the news. Trent and Brad are on their way." Stooping down, he whispered in her ear as he stroked her back. With cowboy boots on, she fell short of his shoulders and when he straightened he was speaking to the top of her head. "Mandy won't leave the house. She’s taking it pretty hard. My dad and Paula are worried about her."

  Billie strode over, and their gazes locked over Kelly's shoulder. His dark eyes missed nothing, sweeping her up and down as he took in her appearance. Kelly pulled away to walk down to the water and collect herself before the others arrived, leaving Brody and Billie alone.

  Without ever taking his eyes off her face, he walked over and pulled her close. “How are you doing?” He asked gently.

  He had always been able to comfort her. It had been so long since they’d been close; too long. Billie clung tightly around his waist, burying her head in his neck. It felt so right to be in his arms. “Just hold me for a second. I’ve missed you so much.” Brody smiled into her hair, and pulled a hand through its silky texture. He had missed her too.

  Tugging slightly on the tresses at the nape of her neck, Brody lifted her face up to his. When her eyes met his, shiny and bright, he forgot what he was going to say. They became lost in each other’s stare, shutting out everything else around them. Brody was just lowering his mouth to hers, when Trent and Brad showed up. Billie pulled away, and the moment was gone.

  “I’m glad you’re here, old man.” Trent stuck out his hand, and then pulled Brody into a hug.

  “I brought the beer,” Brad said, lifting up a case. He set it down to place a possessive arm around Billie’s shoulder and kissed her. Brad wanted to make it clear to which she belonged. He had seen them holding each other. He could still see the flush on Billie’s cheeks. “I guess you know Billie and I are together now.”

  “It’s apparently so.” Brody smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I think this’ll do,” Kelly interrupted, holding out two long sticks in each hand. “Maybe her spirit is with us right now.” She pondered aloud, remembering Sierra’s gypsy tale.

  Brody stooped down to pull up a long wildflower stem and Kelly held the sticks as he bound them together. A few feet from the rock, Brody inserted the stick into the ground. Silently, they each picked some flowers and placed them around the makeshift cross.

  For an hour, they reminisced about the old days, each sitting Indian-style around the cross, drinking a beer. “You still dating Candy?” Brody asked Trent, bringing things to the present and trying to focus on something other than Billie and Brad.

  It seemed he wouldn't answer for a moment, and then slowly Trent spoke up, "We broke up."

  “What?” Billie gasped in surprise. “Not you two. You were like Ken and Barbie. What happened?”

  "I was down at Leroy’s bar with a bunch of the guys. We heard we could get in without proof of age and got pretty ripped.” Lost in the memory, Trent stared past Billie’s shoulder to focus on a tree. “Sierra showed up, looking hot."

  Shaking his head sadly, he scanned everyone’s expression realizing he had their full attention. With a deep breath he continued. "I was really faded. She came over and gave me the big come on. We drank a few beers, and then she wanted to go out to my car. I was thinking with my pecker, you know how it is." He spoke to Brad and Brody, knowing they would understand what he meant. They both nodded.

  "Like I said, I was faded. We got in my car and started to make out. Sierra was pulling my shirt off, when all of a sudden there was this loud crash. I looked up and it was Candy, and she was pissed. She’d thrown this big rock on my hood. When I got out, she practically ran me over in her car. Sierra just laughed and said 'I always wanted to do something like that to her.' I told her to get the hell out of my car. She did, and that was the last time I talked to her. I tracked down Candy. Before she slugged me in the face, she said she had gotten an anonymous phone call telling her to go down to the parking lot of Leroy’s Bar. She said she recognized Sierra's voice and came right down." Shrugging his shoulders, he stared at the ground.

  The mood was somber and an awkward silence filled the air.

  "I have some good news though.” Trent smiled. "I got a full football scholarship to college. I'm out of here after summer." Billie and Kelly squealed, hugging him, and they all three fell over in a tumble of legs.

  “No shit. Dude, that’s awesome.” Brad slapped him five.

  Billie pulled herself up, wiping the dirt off her rear, and walked the short d
istance to the ice chest to rummage for another beer. When she turned around, Brody was leaning nonchalantly against the rock in front of her. Darkness kept his face in the shadows, but she could feel his tension.

  “Guess I had you pegged wrong. You’re just a tease.” Brody pushed off the rock and stepped directly in front of her. “First you get me all hot, then you turn to Brad. Will it be Trent’s turn next?” He taunted. It hurt him to see her with Brad and that hurt had manifested itself into a desire to lash out.

  “What?” Billie gasped and took a step back. “How can you say that?”

  “I’ve been there, remember? I know just how hot you can be. Too bad Sierra broke up our little party.” When Billie swung out to slap his face, he caught her hand easily, yanking her forward into his chest. Bringing his mouth down to her ear, he whispered, “Do you beg him for it? Beg him not to stop, like you did me? Does he make you squirm and moan? Did you”

  “Stop it. Just stop it.” Billie pushed away, and walked back to the group. Wiping her tears discreetly on the sleeve of her baggy sweatshirt, she faced everyone with a smile. Brody was close on her heels. He breezed past her and joined the group as if nothing had ever happened.

  Eventually, Brody stood, stretching his long muscles. “Here’s to you, Sierra. Here’s to the good times.” Lifting his beer at the cross, he swallowed the last of his beer.

  “Here’s to my first crush, among other things.” Trent lifted his beer.

  Brad thought of his night in Sierra’s bed, but lifted his beer in silence.

  “Here’s to my sister. My blood sister,” said Billie.

  “It’s our blood sister,” Kelly added and clinked cans with Billie.

  In unison, they finished their beer in a quiet toast, each mourning their childhood friend.

  “May the bastard who did it rot in hell.” Trent realized what he had said, and glanced at Kelly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “James didn’t do it! Somebody framed him.” Kelly placed her hands on her hips. “He wasn’t the only one with motive.”

  “Are you implying I did it? Is that it?” He glared back at her. “What about you, Kel. She was after your boyfriend.” When Kelly whirled around and ran away, Trent threw his beer against the rock and thrust his fists in the pockets of his baggy shorts. Brody walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “Come on. Let’s go. We’ve all had a shock today.” He glanced at Billie, and then nodded at Brad, before leading Trent away.

  Billie watched Brody walk away and curbed her urge to cry. For a brief second, before he walked away, their eyes had clashed. Then abruptly he had turned, without even saying goodbye.

  Coming up behind her, Brad rested his chin atop her head. The ice chest, containing the empty cans, dangled from his hand.

  He had noticed when she left the circle with Brody. He had also noticed her wiping away tears on her way back. Jealousy gnawed at him, but he covered it with a smile.

  Billie was still seething over Brody’s harsh words, when Brad walked her to her front porch. Before she could change her mind, Billie turned and blurted out, “I’ve made my decision, Brad. I’ll go with you to San Bernardino in a few months.”

  “I’ve changed my mind about that.” Brad dropped to his knee, smiling up at her. “I want you to marry me first. I love you. Will you marry me, Billie?”

  Billie tried to focus on Brad through watery eyes. He was staring up at her, dimples flashing, but it was the love in his hazel eyes that touched her soul. Somebody loved her. She had been waiting her whole life for someone to look at her like that. “Yes. I”

  Before she could finish, Brad jumped up and crushed her in a bear hug. “Sorry. I got a little carried away, and I don’t have the ring yet, but I’ll pick it up next pay day,” he smiled sheepishly. He’d squeezed her tight enough to break her ribs. “I guess I’d better get out of here before you change your mind. We can discuss it later, when things aren’t so ‘out there’.” He kissed her tenderly before leaving, a broad smile lingering on his lips despite the tragedy of Sierra’s death.

  Chapter 11

  A hush fell over the courtroom as James entered for his trial. His orange jumpsuit set him apart from the rest as a guard escorted him to his chair, which was right in front of where Billie and Kelly were sitting. As he approached his seat, he stopped short at the sight of Kelly. His attorney stood at his entrance and looked at him impatiently, waiting for him to sit.

  John Hall was fresh out of law school, looking young and inexperienced, as if playing dress up in his father's clothes. He had gone over everything with James and had not come up with anything for his defense. Even he had doubts as to James’ innocence. James was the only one who seemed to have any kind of motive and the evidence was staggering, but his job was to defend. It didn't look good. The only thing he could do was bring in that known drug offender at Leroy's bar, James' friend, Ben. He could at least tarnish the innocent victim routine and somehow prove that James had been pushed over the edge by a young seductress. With any luck, something would come up or, at the least, he could win some sympathy votes from the jurors and maybe a lesser sentence.

  Again, John wondered why James wasn't sitting and followed his penetrating stare to the young girl behind them. She was a fragile looking thing, he decided, noticing her guileless green eyes and freckled nose. With her brown hair pulled back loosely in a ponytail and face void of make-up, she had an innocent appeal. She stared at James, imploring him with her eyes, as a timid smile reached her wide mouth. John glanced back at James, taking in his rigid countenance, the hard line of his jaw, and wondered again who this young girl was to him and why she had never been mentioned.

  For a moment, James just drank in the sight of Kelly. She had never been far from his thoughts. The memory of her sweetness, her soft touch, her happy outlook on life could never be erased from his heart. For a short while, he’d seen life through her innocent eyes and believed he was worthy of her love. But he wasn’t. The only thing he had to offer was trouble and heartache. It was time for her to quit slumming and move on. Seconds slowly slipped by as their gazes locked. Breaking their eye contact, he pointed at Kelly and gritted out loudly for everyone to hear.

  "Get the hell out of here! You hear me?" With hardened resolve, he turned to the judge. "Make her leave or I won't cooperate."

  Stunned, Kelly burst into tears. She looked wildly around her, cheeks flaming, then ran out of the courtroom. The heavy doors could not block out the sound of her sobs. After shooting James a dirty look, Billie followed close behind. James relaxed his stance and sat next to his attorney.

  "That's not the first impression I would have picked for you to give the jurors," John said with a nervous glance in the juror’s box. Crossing his feet at the ankles, James stretched his long legs out before him, giving the appearance of boredom, but John could feel the tension emanating around him like a storm cloud ready to burst.

  James followed his gaze and cringed at the hostility he saw in the jurors eyes. Looking over at the opposing attorney, he saw him smile at the turn of events.

  The prosecuting attorney was Mark Cabot, who for eleven years had graced the halls of this courtroom. He was of medium height and heavy set, with his chin hanging down an extra two inches and a receding hair line, combed to the side to cover his balding head. His smug attitude, implying that this particular trial was in the bag, did not go unnoticed by James.

  James sat back in weary resignation. Somewhere out there someone was getting away with murder, he grimly told himself. Long empty hours in his cell had given him plenty of time to mull over the chain of events, but nothing made sense. Someone was taking away his life, playing with it as if he were some insignificant pawn in a game. He needed a face, a name, someone to vent his anger on. A hard nudge in the ribs reminded him where he was, and he forced his facial muscles to relax, before turning to his attorney.

  “Could you try to look less intimidating? And let go of that deat
h grip you have on the table,” John whispered, keeping his expression impassive.

  The trial began and the first few days were spent going over the details of the murder. The opposing attorney wasted no time presenting the facts. Sierra was found in James’ bed. His prints were found on the murder weapon. His skin and blood were found under her nails. Her blood was on his shirt. A nice, sweet girl had been taken advantage of by an older man, dreaming of love, but finding only death. He was only twenty-one, James thought, but this guy was making him out to be some lecherous old man.

  Hearing Sierra described as nice and sweet, or even taken advantage of, made James want to laugh aloud, but the jurors were eating it up. He watched as their eyes raked over him as if he were nothing, a lower form of life that deserved to be taken out of their presence. It had always been that way, even his own parents hadn’t wanted him, but James had learned to hide his pain, or accept it, a long time ago. Looking bored and disinterested, he doodled on a piece of paper in front of him. He would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing his pain. His attorney decided it was best not to put him on the stand, deciding his demeanor would only make matters worse. James knew he didn't have a chance in hell without an alibi, and he still had no clue as to how this all came about. He just wanted it finished.

  First, Officer Joe Yale was called to the stand. Looking tired, he thought of a thousand other places he would rather be. He was first asked about his observations and findings in and around the scene. He was then casually asked if James had had any previous brushes with the law. Joe had no choice but to recite, in detail, all of James' prior indiscretions. Although his crimes were always petty, the implication was that he had a volatile temper.

  The rest of the opposing attorney’s case was made ever so thoroughly and there was no doubt that he was a polished prosecutor. In his closing arguments, he elaborated every point. Before it was through, and hearing his own life recited in another man’s words, James could almost believe he was guilty, actually capable of taking another life; almost but not quite. Deep inside, past the hurt and broken dreams of a child desperate for love lay the heartbeat of the man he was. He was a man who hated injustice; a man who relied on arrogance as a shield to protect his shattered heart.