Chapter 41
Weston, Florida
“We have to call them, Olivia,” said Valerie, as they drove back to Olivia’s house from the McDonald’s down the street. “Mom’s already left us four messages, and I’m so worried about Daddy.”
Olivia gave no response until they got back into the comfort of her house. As she took her Big Mac from the bag, she began shaking her head stubbornly. “I’m not calling either one of them,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t call, Valerie. Why don’t you just go ahead and call? Just do it—like Nike.” Grabbing her soda, she flopped onto the sofa, and turned on the television.
Valerie had not moved to join her. She stood at the table for a moment, staring down into the McDonald’s bag. “Olivia, don’t you care about what happened?” she asked quietly. “How come you just never seem to care…about how any of us might be feeling?”
Olivia bit into her burger. It was like biting sawdust. Tears sprang to her eyes as the memories came flooding back. If she had ever wanted to hurt her father, there was little doubt that she had succeeded.
But why had she done it? Why had she pushed to hurt him so much?
Olivia’s heart fluttered. Did she really hate him?
The room fell silent until she said softly, “Did you see his face?” That look haunted her even now. She would never forget the look on his face. He had really been...hurt.
Badly.
“I know. I still can’t believe it…All along it was Uncle Frank,” said Valerie, shaking her head. “I mean, Uncle Frank. Mom should’ve known somebody would get killed if—”
“I made a huge mistake!” said Olivia suddenly, wiping the tears on her face. “I wasn’t thinking straight! My God, what was I thinking?” She began sobbing. “All of this is my fault, Val! I never hated Daddy. All I ever really wanted was just to have him here like normal people’s dads, at home with us.”
Valerie looked up from the bag and saw the tears on her sister’s face. Her own eyes filled then, too. She did not know what to do, feeling uncertain. Should she go over to Olivia? Should she yell at her for nearly embarrassing her beyond belief in the counselor’s office? Valerie just wasn’t sure what she felt like doing.
Finally, she went over to sit next to Olivia. Olivia looked up, saw Valerie, then closed her eyes tightly, saying, “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry! I never should’ve even thought about telling them what happened to you!” she sobbed. “I’m so ashamed, Val…Look what I’ve done.”
Valerie stared out the glass door and her own tears were coming fast now. “How come you never told me that you were pregnant?” Her voice was choked.
“Oh, Valerie, please give me a break. I didn’t tell anyone but Mom.” She paused. “I was too embarrassed.”
Valerie stared at her sister, a bit mystified. Then she understood. She reached over and hugged her. They held each other, both of them crying, draining the fullness from their hearts. The phone rang suddenly and Valerie said, “Answer it, Liv. You know it’s probably Mom again.”
Valerie rose then and went back to the table to start eating. She wondered what was going to happen now. What was going to happen to her life? To the family?
Olivia attempted to compose herself as she reached for the phone, drying her face. “Hello?”
She heard her mother breathe a sigh of relief. “Olivia, why haven’t you returned my calls? I’ve been calling constantly. Is Valerie there with you? Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s here with me Mom. She’s fine.” She paused. “Mommy…I’m so sorry about what happened. I wasn’t thinking straight...But you had no right to tell anyone!” Her voice choked up. “You had no right…because I trusted you.”
“I know you don’t agree, Olivia, but he had a right to know. I was wrong when I agreed to keep it from him. Did you see how upset he was about it? It really hurt that you wanted to keep something like that a secret from him.”
Olivia fell back against the sofa. “I know, I know. Where is he now? Is he still in jail?” She held her breath.
“No, luckily, it was early enough for him to get bail, and I posted it.” Tracy’s voice faltered. “But I have no idea where he went. He hasn’t come home. He just got in the car with our lawyer and drove away…He didn’t even look at me.”
“Well, that’s expected, isn’t it?”
“You know, for a while I literally could’ve killed you. But I was up the whole night with my conscience and…this isn’t your fault. I know better. It would have come out sooner or later, I suppose. And Frank would probably have ended up in the same place, anyway.”
“Well, they said at the hospital that it was too soon to tell about his face. He definitely needs plastic, or maybe some type of reconstructive, surgery. Plus, he’s got cracked ribs...” She faltered as her thoughts swung back to her father. “You know, we were just talking about calling Daddy, because we need to at least make sure he’s okay.”
There was a pause. Then Tracy said, “You really do care, don’t you, Liv? I know you’ve always loved your father very much, but it’s just been easier for you to stay angry rather than open up and risk being led down. Right?”
Olivia started to cry again. “Oh, Mom. I do love Daddy. Of course I do. And I think Valerie and I need to stick close to him now—now more than ever.”
Olivia pictured her mother sitting at a barstool in the kitchen. In her big, empty kitchen. “Yes, he will, Liv. He’s gonna need you two very much...and you should both be there for him.”
•
Later that evening, Tracy awoke to find that her eyes were glued shut…She could not open them.
With careful steps, she stumbled toward the general direction of the bathroom, bumping into the loveseat along the way. Once she got through the door, she felt around for her washcloth and used warm water to slowly wash open her swollen eyes. One look in the mirror, and she cringed. She looked awful.
She did not remember falling asleep. She had literally cried herself to sleep after talking to Olivia. And now she was paying for it, big time. Her head felt as though it were ten times its actual size. She could barely stand holding it up.
She thought about calling Justine…
Crawling back into bed, she reached for the telephone and called her mother.
Beverly Russell answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me.” Tracy’s voice cracked as her throat filled with the overwhelming need to bawl more.
“What’s wrong, Tracy? Honey? You sound terrible…”
After an apprehensive pause, Tracy said, “Come over, Mom…I need you to come over.”
•
The fact that he was possibly breaking the law by flying to Orlando never occurred to Reginald until he was halfway to the airport that morning.
It didn’t matter. He was going, anyway. He would be back shortly, and no one would have to be the wiser.
His cell phone rang just as his taxicab was turning into Miami International Airport. He checked the screen. It was Olivia.
Reggie answered quickly, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Hello, Olivia.”
Initially, there was silence as Olivia hesitated, apparently unsure of what she wanted to say. “Are...are you all right? Where are you? Mom’s really worried.”
The cab pulled over to the curb and Reggie stepped out. “I’m fine, thanks. And don’t call again for your mother. I do not want to hear any reference to her—not right now.” Setting his overnight bag on the curb, he pulled out his wallet and paid the driver.
“I get that, Daddy, but we didn’t call just for her. We’re worried about you, too, me and Valerie...”
Reginald was certain of what he heard in her voice...
She cared. And in that moment, he was sure she always had.
“Listen, I’m going up to Orlando right now to try and work something out with Denise’s mother. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and I should be back tomorrow. I’ll be in touch then, okay?”
Valerie audibly hurried to swallow her last bite of whatever she was having for breakfast. “Daddy, are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m at the airport, sweetheart. Olivia will explain. I’ll call you guys tomorrow. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
Heading into the airport terminal, he disconnected the call. For the first time since the awful scene in Dr. Berenger’s office, Reginald felt a desire to smile...so he did.
•
Reginald landed at Orlando International just before noon. The sun was beaming down as he left the airport and hailed a cab. He hoped Renee was okay. He remembered how desperate she had been the last time they were together. He remembered the lies he had fed her, and shook his head.
“Where to, sir?” asked the middle-aged cab driver.
Reginald gave him Renee’s address (it was funny how he now thought of it as Renee’s address), and giving a brief nod of affirmation, the cabby moved out into the steady flow of traffic.
•
After paying his cab fare, Reginald slowly walked up the winding pathway to the front door. He stopped for a minute and stared at the town house. This had been a home to him for so many years, yet as he approached, he felt like a stranger. Could it be because he had spent all these years merely pretending Orlando was his home?
Letting himself into the house, Reggie walked toward the stairs, dropped his bag, and called out for Renee, announcing his presence. Hearing nothing, he jogged up the stairs and headed for the bedroom. Glancing into Denise’s room, he noticed that most of her stuffed animals were missing, which was odd, since every corner of her room had been filled with the colorful bears. He went into the bedroom he had shared with Renee, then checked the bathroom. It appeared she had gone out.
Returning downstairs, he decided to call the office to make sure his corporate apartment was still available. He would have to make other arrangements if the lease had already been terminated. Staying in the house might only give Renee false hope, and Reginald had no intentions of taking such a risk. The pretense was over, and going forward, he intended to be nothing but forthright with Renee and her family.
Going into the kitchen to grab a soda, he immediately spotted the envelope on the countertop. Renee had left him a note. Good. At least he would know when she’d be back. His name had been neatly written across the front in capital letters: REGINALD.
Reaching for the letter, Reginald arched an eyebrow in curiosity and broke the seal. There was only one slip of paper inside, and it was definitely Renee’s handwriting. It read:
Dearest Reginald,
You were right. I was extremely angry and deeply hurt when I read your letter. Even though you said you know I’m strong, I think you underestimated just how STRONG I actually am. Well, you’re about to find out, because now I’ve taken control.
I’ve decided to leave, and to take Denise with me. You claim she’s your number one priority now, but you don’t deserve her, and I’d rather die than have my child be anywhere near your wife and kids! W hat? So you can all live happily ever after with your perfect little family while I’m left alone to drown in a sea of humiliation for losing you—the way they all said I would?? You’ll see me dead before that EVER happens!
Your letter also asked me to apologize to my family for you. You said you knew they’d be angry and grieved. Well, since I’m in control, I leave you with the responsibility of apologizing to them yourself for their anger and their grief.
I hope you can sleep well at night after that.
From a heart that was always yours,
Renee
P.S. If you’d like to say good-bye, we’re still in the garage.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Reginald headed for the garage. Renee wanted to scare him into thinking she was going to run off with Denise! He shook his head as he reached the garage door and turned the knob.
The minute the door opened, the smell hit him.
Charcoal.
Reggie saw the grill sitting in front of the car. What the hell was it doing burning in the garage? His eyes stung as he stepped through the doorway.
“Renee?” he called out. What in the world was she doing? He squinted as he walked toward the car. “Denise?”
Reggie opened his mouth to call her name again…But that’s when they came into focus.
He froze.
The blood drained from his face.
There, in the front seat of her Eclipse, was Renee. Her eyes were closed and her head was slumped forward, bent to the right.
Sprawled in her arms, appearing to be no more than asleep on her mother’s shoulder, was Denise. Their skin was a bizarre, abnormal color that Reggie’s near paralyzed mind couldn’t even begin to identify.
He moved forward, mystified. His brain could not compute what he was seeing. As if dreaming, Reginald flung open the door and attempted to pull Denise from the car. “Holy shit...” Her arms clung to her mother, stuck.
Rigor mortis.
Managing to clumsily dislodge her, Reggie ran with the small body into the kitchen, put her on the floor, and began blowing his breath into her stiff mouth. “Jesus Christ!” he said, still unable to make sense of what was happening, or even what he was doing.
He felt for her pulse. But of course, there was no pulse.
Reggie’s eyes glazed over. He knelt there so long that the tears running down his face splashed onto Denise’s corpse.
Finally, in a state of absolute shock, Reginald raced for the telephone and dialed 911.
•
On December 2, 2004, the murder-suicide of twenty-nine-year-old Renee Holly Jameson and six-year-old Denise Rose Brooks made both local and national news.
It wasn’t everyday that a woman locked herself in a garage with her child and waited for death to claim them…
The Jameson family was devastated.
•
The following day, Beatrice Jameson received a letter in the mail. There was no return address. In it she found a cashier’s check from Renee’s bank. It was in excess of seventy-eight thousand dollars.
Engulfed by what her daughter had done, Bea collapsed on her front lawn, sobbing under the rays of the insultingly bright sun.
A startled neighbor saw Bea from her front porch and ran over to help her back into the house.
•
Reginald stayed at the town house until it was no longer a crime scene, having been officially cleared by police investigators. He immediately phoned his Orlando Realtor and put it on the market.
It had been nearly one week since he arrived to find Renee and Denise dead in the garage, yet he could still see them. He saw them just as they had been: a daughter with her arms around her mother…
He had allowed himself contact with no one, opting to seclude himself in that place; the place in which he had created a home for a woman and a then-unwanted child.
Who could have guessed, in their worst nightmare, that it would come to this? That sweet, innocent little girl was gone. Gone.
Denise was dead. The toxic fume had filled her small lungs, and just like that…she was gone.
And Reginald knew he was responsible.
Would he ever again close his eyes and not see her face? Would he ever again lie down to sleep without her image behind his eyelids, haunting him?
But of course he wouldn’t…Renee had given her own life to guarantee it.
•
Renee knew what she had been doing.
In a calculated and vile act of vengeance, she had sacrificed her own life in order to take the life of Reginald’s child.
Revenge would be hers for eternity.
•
The entire Jameson family struggled to recover from Renee’s death.
Her mother and father suffered the most through the funerals. Beatrice withdrew into an emotional cocoon, leaving Benjamin confused, desperate to comfort his wife. He
did not know how to help her when he himself needed so much consoling.
As time passed, Helen and John visited their parents daily, but they both needed as much comforting as they had come to offer.
Things were made even worse when Renee’s mail began showing up in her parents’ mailbox…
When they all swallowed the extent to which she’d gone, the premeditation, the planning…It was too much to bear.
They eventually turned to their church, seeking counsel to cope with the grief. Still, it was anyone’s guess when true healing would begin. Accepting what Renee had done, the incredible pain she’d left behind…it would be a long time coming.
•
Reginald Brooks returned to Miami with Renee’s legacy hovering over him—a chilling black cloud that blocked all sunlight.
Taking a condo near his sister, Thelma, he went through the motions of living within the darkness of the cloud. And for months, he could not return to the work he loved; a clear head eluded him.
His world had been dimmed, and he no longer believed he deserved to have a normal life…The kind of life he had begun to crave.
•
Valerie finally built up the courage, Olivia’s insistence notwithstanding, to send a brief letter to Joseph Ellison, alerting him to his condition, while making it clear that she had no interest in communicating with him further. Joe must have shared her feelings, as he never attempted to speak to her when they saw each other in school.
THE GREAT PRETENDER Page 28