by BobA. Troutt
*****
Beyond the Truth
Forget-me-Nots
The charcoal bricks lay piled up where the chimney once stood. A touch of hollyhocks and buttercups spotted the ground around about it. The house that once stood there now lay in ashes, the remains all but disappearing through the years. The meadow was filled with rolling hills of tall grass and wild forget-me-nots. At times, the wind would sweep across the meadow and drive wave after wave across the tall grass, bending it over to kiss the forget-me-nots with its touch.
It was the summer of 1923 in Long Creek, Alabama. Jennifer was ten and Shane was eleven. Both of them lived on Broken Fence Road not far from the meadow. It was their favorite place in the entire world, so beautiful and peaceful, and they played there day after day. People who lived around there called it Running Meadow because of the wave of the wind. The smell of the forget-me-nots when the wind stirred filled the whole community with fragrance. The smell was so sweet. It was Jennifer’s favorite flower. She always said that when she got married she wanted the forget-me-nots to be in her wedding.
She and Shane were good friends. They grew up together, and later on became childhood sweethearts. Although their love was innocent, as time passed it slowly grew to a truer love.
In the meadow, they would run, laugh, fall to the earth and roll in the tall grass. He’d pick her a bouquet of forget-me-nots and take them to her when she was sick. At times he’d pluck a flower and place it behind her ear, smile, and gaze into her eyes. To them, the meadow was their magical world. They felt safe from the dangers of the changing world there. All that mattered to them was that they had each other.
As time passed they played in the meadow. They played ball, rode bikes, and had picnics. Some days they just lay around looking up at the blue sky, wondering what they would be doing ten or twenty years from now. There was one thing for sure and that was they wanted to stay in the meadow where the wild forget-me-nots grew.
One day after a summer shower, with the fresh scent of rain and the sweet smell of the forget-me-nots, Shane stole a kiss from Jennifer. Her eyes sparkled with a warm smile. As he dropped his head, she returned the kiss on his forehead. When he looked up, he saw her smile; then he smiled and hugged her. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.
Since then a lot of summers had come and gone. The years were good to them. Jennifer, now fourteen, and Shane fifteen, had become more than childhood sweethearts. She had grown to be a beautiful young lady, and he a handsome young man. They were inseparable, and their love. The early stages of love growing up, had begun a longtime ago.
In the summer of 1927, Shane’s stepdad started letting him drive. He was so happy and proud; it made him feel so grown up. He had learned to drive on the farm, through fields and old logging roads. His car may not have been the classiest ride, but one thing for sure it was a way to go and it beat the heck out of walking.
Shane took his first long trip along with Jennifer sitting by his side to Dry Ridge, Mississippi, to pick blackberries. Long Creek was northwest of Montgomery, Alabama. Dry Ridge was just across the state line. It was said to have the best blackberries east of the Mississippi River. Shane and Jennifer were going to take them back to Long Creek to sell. Why old widow Parker, he told her, had won first place in the Stone County Fair for the last three years. Surely, she would want to try for four. Getting rid of the berries wouldn’t be the problem because everyone around Long Creek loved cobbler.
About a mile outside of Long Creek, they crossed over Stinking Creek. It was a small creek that ran along the road and crossed over at Fieldmore’s Lane. You talk about stinking. It was stinking to the high heavens that day. Jennifer accused Shane of farting and he accused her. They both held their noses as they crossed over. The people around there said the creek was fed by sulfur wells that emptied out into the creek. That’s the reason it smelled so bad and that’s where it got its name. As they crossed over, dust from the road filled the air. The dust helped take away the smell of the creek. Shane and Jennifer laughed about it.
Driving opened up a new world to Shane and Jennifer. They went to barn dances, hoedowns, and church picnics, just to name a few. And don’t forget they played spin the bottle and post office too, but all that didn’t have much to do with driving dad’s old truck. They had their fights and quarrels, their disappointments, hurts, and breakups. But in the end love covered it all. Love mended that which was broken. It healed that which was hurt. Love forgave unconditionally when the words “I’m sorry” came from the heart.
At fifteen, Shane took his first drink of homebrew at a barn dance. When Jennifer found out she got so mad she jumped him. About half lit, Shane slapped her, knocking her down. But when he realized what he had done, he fell to her side, begging her to forgive him. As she cried, she pushed him away, yelling at him to get away from her as she took off through the crowd. The people watched for a minute as Shane fell to the ground, crying as he called her name. One by one the people left.
A few days later Shane had convinced Jennifer that he was sorry and that it would never happen again. She forgave him, believing it wasn’t him but the homebrew. Besides, Shane had grown up with it. He had been around it all his life. His stepdad drank all the time. His mother was dead.
But little did Jennifer realize that the homebrew would eventually tangle Shane’s life into a whirlwind of trouble. From that time on, Shane drank more and more, keeping it from Jennifer the best he could. If Shane ever hit Jennifer again, they kept it quiet. Although at times there were marks and bruises on her face and arms, it was never mentioned. He would tell his friends he liked the buzz it gave.
Shane and his friends loved to drag race on Winklers Road. Late Friday or Saturday night they would get together and race their cars to see who had the hottest car. Everyone else stood by the side, cheering them on.
But there was another thing that came out of the barn dance the night he took his first drink. They met two new friends, Betty Kaye and James Lee. They were both from Dry Ridge. James had lived in Long Creek about two years. Betty Kaye had moved to Long Creek about a year ago. Little did Shane and Jennifer know, their new friendship was not a mere accident. There was a secret that would turn all their lives around.
Betty was secretly in love with Shane. Shane was in love with Jennifer, but became infatuated with Betty Kaye. James Lee loved Betty, but she acted like she didn’t know he was alive. James Lee was a loner, stayed to himself a lot, and nobody fooled with him much. But no matter what happened, Shane and Jennifer would still find their way back to the meadow of forget-me-nots. It seemed like it would somehow make everything all right.
As time passed, they grew closer, but drifted from the meadow. In 1929, the stock market crashed and life became more challenging for them. People everywhere lost their jobs, and homes. Their visits to the meadow became fewer. They were growing up. Shane was nineteen, and Jennifer was eighteen. Their hookups with their new friends kept them busy. They went everywhere and did everything together. The four were inseparable.
Things went well for a while until their secrets began to come out. There was no problem with Jennifer. She was in love with Shane. Shane loved Jennifer, too, but, Betty Kaye was a looker, and every chance she got she made her move on Shane. Although Shane had plenty of opportunities to be with Betty Kaye, he never did cross the line with her. It made James Lee furious when he saw Betty Kaye throwing herself on Shane. It made him even madder seeing Shane wanting her. Yes, at first, things were good. But after the back-biting, fussing, fighting, and arguing, the once happy couples soon went their separate ways. Things began to turn around as they stopped running around together. Betty Kay and James Lee slowly backed off.
That first summer after graduation proved not only hard on the economy, but also hard on relationships and growing up. Times were hard for everyone that summer. Plants w
ere closing, jobs were scarce, and no one had any money. You were blessed if you lived on a farm; at least you could grow your own food. It was a time when neighbors pulled together; everyone was in the same boat.
Shane and Jennifer were thankful they were in love except when Shane came around with the smell of homebrew on his breath. Jennifer would tell him to leave and he would.
During the summer, Jennifer ran into Betty Kaye. They had a few words. One time they got into a fight at the drag races. James Lee broke them up. By now, Betty Kaye had picked up a little fancy for James Lee. But when things started to get close, Betty Kaye let him know he wasn’t the man Shane was, and it would drive him into a rage. She would just laugh.
The heat of summer lingered on that year. There was little to no rain. The meadow lay dry and brittle with wilt and bugs.
“Oh, what I would give for a good slow rain,” Jennifer said as she and Shane stood in the meadow that day.
It had been a long time since they had spent time together there. She wanted to build a house there, raise their children. He thought it was a splendid idea. Slowly, she stepped off the footage of each room in their dream house.
She said, “From this window I want the view of the valley and from this one my beautiful forget-me-nots.”
He took her by the hand and into his arms, and they danced about the meadow as they had done as children. And wouldn’t you know it, that rascal stole another kiss from her, this time better than before. For the next few weeks they met in the meadow and talked. He had cut back on his drinking and promised her he had quit.
Soon, the leaves began to slowly change. The brilliant colors were the promise of autumn to come. The air was a bit more nippy now than before, but only a sweater was needed for now.
The rains had finally set in. It was pouring down rain that morning. Jennifer had gone by Shane’s house; she was trying to catch him before he left for Dry Ridge to see about a job. The thunder echoed in the background as the big drops of water splashed to the ground. But when she got there Shane had already left. She had knocked on the door several times and had started to leave when his stepdad answered it. He invited her in and was glad to see her. He gave her a towel to dry off. Jennifer asked about Shane; and he told her he had just left.
She replied, “I have to go, too.”
As she turned to open the door, he stepped in front of it so she couldn’t get out.
“I’ve got to go!” yelled Jennifer.
“You ain’t going anywhere until I get a little sugar first,” he said with a sick grin.
“If you don’t get out of my way I’m going to scream,” she said.
“Go ahead,” he replied. “Scream all you want to. There’s no one who can hear you. Besides, everyone that lives around is not at home.”
Then she kicked him in the leg. As he reached for her leg with one hand, he grabbed her by her hair and pushed her through the house to the bedroom. She fought and fought, trying to get away, but now he held her tight with both hands. As she screamed and kicked, she tried to get away to the door. But the hold he had on her was too overpowering. Slowly, he ripped open her top. She spit in his face and cussed him. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes almost took her breath. She was wearing down fast. Her legs were about to buckle under her when he hit her with his fists, forcing her down onto the bed. As she lay there quietly, he had his way. All she could do was cry. Outside all you could hear was the thunder in the clouds and the rain beating down on the tin roof. In a few minutes it was over, but to Jennifer it had seemed like an hour. She made her way up off the bed as she put back on her clothes. She couldn’t stop crying, nor control the feelings of how she felt. Suddenly, he grabbed her again. He was so strong and she was so weak. She remembered his breath with the smell of smoke and whiskey. He whispered in her ear and told her if she told anyone about this, Shane or anyone, he would kill her in her sleep. Then he pushed her away from him.
Quickly she ran toward the door and out into the rain. The rain felt so good. It helped to wash away the smell of his body. As she made her way down the road, she suddenly stopped and turned toward the meadow. Hurriedly, she made her way through the field where she and Shane had planned their dream house. There she fell on the ground and cried out, “Oh, God, let me die,” she pleaded. “Why, Lord, why, Lord did this have to happen to me?” She cried out for Shane. As the rain beat down on her, she lay down in the meadow as she had when she was a child. Shortly after that, the rain stopped and the sun shone bright. She rose slowly and gazed out across the valley. The heat from the light of the sun dried her tears and its warmth healed the hurt, as the fragrance of the wild forget-me-nots comforted her heart. From there she made her way home. That night was the longest night she had ever spent. She never told a soul, but no one she knew kept a diary. She remembered that when Shane and she were little, Shane’s stepdad had messed with him. It was early and Shane probably hadn’t gotten back from Dry Ridge, she said to herself. He hadn’t come by to see her, nor had she heard from him either. She guessed he probably stayed over at Dry Ridge to drink with some of his friends.
It was early the next morning when Shane strolled in. After he cleaned up, he went over to see Jennifer. When he got there she was lying around, upset and irritable.
“Hey,” he said as he came in.
She never said a word. As he made his way over to kiss her and sit beside her, she pulled away from him.
“What’s wrong,” he asked. “Are you mad because I stayed over at Dry Ridge?”
Then she turned to him and said, “I needed you last night and you weren’t there.”
“I’m sorry, Jennifer,” he apologized. “I got tied up.”
“You’re always sorry about everything,” she replied. “Things never change.”
“Okay, I was out with some of the guys. Is that a crime?” he cried. “Besides, we aren’t married.”
“Thank goodness,” she replied.
“I’m getting out of here!” he yelled. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye,” she cried as she turned and dropped her head.
A few days later he came by to see her. She wasn’t as mad as before, but she did seem distant. Shane couldn’t figure it out. He tried to understand what he may have done wrong to upset her so. Was it because he stopped over at Dry Ridge? Was it a woman thing? Could it be he hadn’t stopped drinking? Then he said to himself, “Maybe she thinks I’m seeing someone else.”
“Hey, girl” he said as he came in.
“Hey,” she replied.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“All right.”
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“I’ve missed you too,” she replied.
“Jennifer,” he said. “Do you want to tell me what I’ve done?”
“You haven’t done anything,” she replied.
“Then why are you acting so strange?” he said. “You act like I’m sleeping around on you.”
“Are you?” she replied.
“No, I’m not,” he replied.
“Then why did you bring it up?” asked Jennifer. “Is it Betty Kaye?”
“It’s nobody,” he cried. “I said that to see if that was the reason you’re acting so strange.”
“I know,” she said. “Shane, you’re not seeing someone else.”
“Then what’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she replied. “I want to spend some time alone.”
“Are you wanting to break up?” he asked.
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Do you want me?” he asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” she replied, “if I want anybody.”
“Well, I’m gone, Jennifer,” he said. “Call me when you make up your mind. Is it my drinking?”
She shook her head and looked the other way. For the next few weeks they talked on a
nd off, and some days they argued. She wanted to tell him so badly but she was so afraid of what he would do. The only one she could turn to was her diary. It was a way to release some of the hurt and anger. Maybe someday the truth would be revealed. Time went on, and the pressure was so strong that Shane and Jennifer broke up and went their separate ways. But a few days later Jennifer had a change of heart. She felt bad because of the way she had treated him. So she sent word for him to meet her at the meadow around eight that night; she wanted to talk to him. When Shane got the word he was relieved. He looked forward to seeing her at the meadow. The last time he was there the weeds had gotten tall, the old chimney still stood as times before, but the echo from the valley seemed faint and weak. A lot of the flowers had already bloomed. The daffodils and hollyhock were all gone and there were only a few forget-me-nots left for the season. Shane had noticed they grew back fewer each year. He did notice, by the chimney, a patch of devil’s pokers growing there. But no matter what grew in the meadow, it was their place, even until the end of the world.
That night when Shane pulled up at the meadow, Jennifer was already there. From the headlights of his truck he could see her sitting down on the ground on a blanket. Shane paused a few minutes before he got out, to take a quick drink. He had been drinking for two days. Finally, he stumbled out of his truck with a coal-oil lantern in his hand. Then he made his way down to where she was.
“Good evening, Jenny, I mean Jennifer. How are you…today…I mean tonight?”
Jennifer fought back her anger as Shane set the lamp down and tried to light it.
“Damn,” he cried out as he jumped back and blew on his finger.
“Here, let me do it,” she said. “You’re too drunk.”
“I’ll do it,” he said boldly. “Don’t you think I can light this stupid lamp?”
She just looked at him. Then he tried it again.
“Here, let me do this,” she scolded.
“Here, you do it then,” he grumbled.
She took the match in her hand and struck it and the lamp began to burn. Meanwhile Betty Kaye had heard earlier that Shane and Jennifer would be in their favorite place, which she knew. So she took her car and drove out there. It was time to set this thing straight once and for all about Shane. Besides, little did anyone know, she had been with Shane several times. Also, James Lee had heard about the rendezvous and had hitchhiked out there earlier. He knew Betty Kaye had heard about it, and he knew she would be there, too. When Betty Kaye arrived she parked her car on an old logging trail that was down in the valley above the meadow. James Lee walked through the woods on the other side of the meadow and hid in the tall grass. Betty Kaye didn’t get that close to them, she was afraid of getting caught. But James Lee worked his way up crawling on the ground with the darkness and the tall grass covering him. The light from the lantern shone bright. Betty Kaye and James Lee could see Shane and Jennifer well. As Shane and Jennifer talked, they got the strangest feeling they were being watched.
“Anybody out there?” Shane cried out.
But there was no answer except for some crickets and a whippoorwill close by. While they talked, Jennifer started to tell him about what happened with his stepdad. But Shane was so drunk he couldn’t keep his hands off her. It was plain to her. Shane was only interested in something else and she was definitely not in the mood.
“Just for once, Shane,” she cried. “I wish we could sit down and talk when you’re not drunk or drinking.”
“Oh, come on, Jennifer,” he said as he slowly moved his hands about her body.
Then suddenly she thought she heard something.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Shane. “Who’s there?” cried out Shane.
But all they could hear was the whippoorwill taking flight. Whoo, whoo, whoo, screeched a sound from the darkness.
“What’s that screeching sound?” shouted Jennifer.
“That, my girl, is an owl,” he replied, “An owl, that’s all, nothing else but an owl. There is no one out there. Now can we get back to where we were?”
“Shane, have you been drinking homebrew again?” she asked.
“Why no, my love,” he stuttered. “Tonight I’m drinking Roastner wine, baby doll. Now can we go back to….”
“No,” she stated boldly. “I’m going home.”
“Go home? Baby, we just got here!”
Then Shane heard something in the tall grass.
“Shhh,” he hushed Jennifer, “wait here.”
“Oh, Shane, please be careful,” she replied.
Slowly, he moved from the light of the lantern to the edge of the darkness as a hand slowly reached down and picked up a brick. Then all at once Shane fell to the ground. Quietly, Jennifer waited for him, calling his name. Suddenly she was struck in the head with a brick from behind, and she was killed instantly. As she was hit, her blood splattered on some nearby forget-me-nots. Everything was quiet. A few minutes later Betty Kaye stood up and saw Jennifer on the ground at James Lee’s feet. Shane was nowhere to be seen. Then she saw James Lee throw down a brick. Quickly, she covered her mouth and lay quietly in the meadow. James Lee yelled out of the darkness of the night.
“Betty Kaye, I know you’re out there!”
She lay still, not moving a muscle. She was terrified.
“Betty Kaye!” he yelled again.
As he turned to disappear into the darkness, he walked by Shane, who looked up from the ground and saw only a blurry figure standing over him. By now, Betty Kaye had slipped back to her car and was headed back toward town. James Lee ran down to the road.
A few minutes later, Shane woke up, sick to his stomach, and throwing up. When he got over his sick spell, he called for Jennifer. But there was no answer. He slowly picked himself up off the ground and wandered back to where she was. But when he got there he found her in a puddle of blood. Frightened, not thinking, he picked up the bloody brick that lay beside her. Then coming to his senses, he dropped the brick and fell to his knees, picking her up into his arms. As he cried, he held her tight. Slowly, the blood ran from her head through his fingers and down his arm.
“Oh, God!” he screamed, “why, God, oh why, God!”
Down on the main highway, James Lee stood beside the road, hitchhiking back toward town. Meanwhile, Shane was just now realizing how it was beginning to look.
What am I going to do? he thought. They are going to blame me. “Think, think,” he mumbled under his breath. Then he began to look around for his stuff. Quickly, he grabbed the lantern and jumped in his truck and started for home. He stopped and listened. There were sirens, and they sounded like they were coming that way. He paused for about thirty minutes to get himself together. He took his shirt off and wiped his hands and arms off and put it behind his seat. Slowly he pulled off, not wanting to be noticed. He decided to ride around and try to figure out what was the best thing to do. As he headed toward town he could hear the sirens. On down the road, there had been a wreck. A policeman that was directing traffic motioned for him to stop.
“How are you doing, Shane?” he asked.
“Fine, sir,” replied Shane. “What do you have, Officer Turner, a wreck?”
“A bad wreck,” he replied. “They were going awfully fast. They evidently lost control. Okay, Shane, you go on now and be careful,” he suggested.
As Shane drove on, he looked over as they were getting the bodies out of the car, but he didn’t recognize them. Then he took off toward town. The last thing you could see was the back end of his truck and one taillight. That night he drove around until about midnight. As he woke the next morning, his stepdad came bursting into the room yelling.
“Shane, Shane, you’re not going to believe it!”
“What, what?” Shane cried as he jumped up.
“They found Jennifer’s body in the meadow. The police are up there now. Come
on!” he yelled.
Quickly, Shane got dressed. He had hoped and prayed it had been a bad dream, but evidently not. When they reached the scene they had covered her body and were loading her into the ambulance. As Shane stood before the meadow once more there seemed to be a haunting sound in the wind, and the smell of forget-me-nots was low and faint. Carefully the wind drove the tall grass, it stirred a loneliness about it.
The police were questioning everyone around when suddenly they saw Shane.
“I’m real sorry, Shane, about Jennifer,” said the detective. “I guess this is quite a shock to you.”
Then Shane broke down crying and trembling. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Detective, why did something like this have to happen?”
Then his stepdad placed his hand upon Shane’s shoulder. “This is a bad time, officer,” he stated. “Could you talk to him later?”
“Sure, I understand,” replied the officer. “But let me understand something, Shane. She was your girlfriend, wasn’t she?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Were you with her last night?”
“No, no, sir,” he quickly responded.
The detective got a feeling he was awfully nervous for some reason. As the Detective turned to walk off he stopped and looked back.
“Did you know that James Lee was killed in a car wreck not far from here?”
“No,” he quickly replied. “No, I haven’t heard.”
“I’ll be talking to you, Shane, later on,” replied the detective.
“Sure, just let me know,” he mumbled.
The next three weeks would be crucial in the investigation of the murder. This was big news in the community of Long Creek. This was about the third time a high profile case had hit home. The police called the case the Forget-me-not Murder.
Detective Guthrie Gordon was assigned to the case. Like a tick on a hound, Detective Gordon jumped in feet first. He questioned several people. One person said they had driven by the meadow that night and had seen Shane’s truck there. Officer Turner told him that he had worked the wreck that night and that Shane had driven through headed for town. It was a known fact that Shane had hit her and it was probably not the only time. The more the detective worked on the case, the more Shane got deeper in. Then he talked to Betty Kaye.
“Rumor has it,” he said, “that you and Jennifer didn’t get along very well. It seems like most of your troubles were over Shane.”
“Sure,” she said. “We had our problems but they never did amount to much.”
“So you and Jennifer were jealous of each other?” he asked.
“No, not really,” she said. “We didn’t always see eye to eye.”
“But, there were a lot of folks who spoke highly of Shane. They didn’t think he could ever do anything like this.”
By the end of the first week, Detective Gordon had talked to just about everyone. Shane’s stepdad said he came home around midnight. She had been killed around 9:00 p.m. The wreck happened down the road around 9:50 p.m. and Shane came by the wreck at 10:15 p.m. Detective Gordon thought it was a coincidence that Shane was in the area around the time of the crime. He wondered what James Lee was doing there as well. His friend said he let him out near the meadow and was supposed to come back to get him, but forgot about him. A witness that saw the wreck said they saw the car stop and pick up a boy near the meadow. They were driving fast and reckless, swerving back and forth right before they wrecked. To top it all off, Jennifer’s scarf was found in James Lee’s coat pocket.
Then early Saturday morning the first big break of the case came. An officer had pulled Shane over for drunk driving. When they searched his truck they found his bloody shirt behind the seat. He had forgotten to take it out and get rid of it. They took Shane in for questioning. When they got him to the station, Shane was put into a room with District Attorney Benton Sullivan and Detective Gordon. Shane was scared to death. As the two men started their interrogation, Shane sat and listened. He showed no emotion. But when they brought up the bloody shirt, he told them he wanted a lawyer.
“Take him away,” said the D.A., “and give him his phone call.
Detective Gordon asked, “What do you think?”
The D.A. replied, “I’m not sure. We can hold him for seventy-two hours.”
Then Detective Gordon spoke up, “We are going to have to charge him or let him go. Let’s see what he tells his lawyer.”
By noon, Shane’s lawyers, Ben Swindle and Willie Crook, met with him at the jail. If there ever was a time Shane told the truth, he told it to his lawyers. In a couple hours they brought Shane back to the interrogation room with his lawyers present. As the men talked, his lawyers told him to tell the truth.
“Jennifer called me to meet her at the meadow around 8:00 p.m. When I got there she was waiting for me. I had been drinking for the past two days. She wanted to work things out. We started talking when I heard something. I called out, but there was no answer. Then I heard it again. I got up and walked around to see if I could see anyone.
Suddenly I fell to my knees, then to the ground. In a few minutes I looked up, but my vision was blurred. I thought I saw someone standing over me. The next thing I knew, I was getting up off the ground, sick and throwing up. I finally made my way back to Jennifer. When I got there she was already dead. I noticed the brick lying beside her. Without thinking, I picked it up and then dropped it. I panicked when I heard the sirens. I was headed back to town when I came upon the roadblock. That’s where I saw Officer Turner. As I went past the wreck I saw the bodies, but they were covered with sheets. I rode around until midnight, then went home. But I didn’t kill her.”
“If you hadn’t done anything, why didn’t you go to the police?” asked Detective Gordon.
“I was afraid. I didn’t think anyone would believe me,” he replied. “I was drunk and panicked. That’s what happened,” he said. “That’s the truth. Do you believe me?”
The room fell silent. Shane didn’t have an alibi or a witness. The D.A. bought some of it. But he wondered about the rest of his testimony. For instance, he was too drunk to recognize someone with the blurred vision. But he drove around all night until midnight. His prints were on the murder weapon and he smudged the other print with his. That other print could have been from anyone, maybe a long time ago, that had nothing to do with the murder; and what about the bloody shirt?
About then an officer came in. “Sir, may I see you a minute,” he said.
“Excuse me,” replied the D.A. as he left the room.
Then about ten minutes the D.A. reentered. “That will be all for right now,” said the D.A.
“Am I free to go?” asked Shane.
“For now,” replied the D.A. “But we will be in touch.”
As they were leaving, Detective Gordon asked Benton, “What on earth is up?”
“That was the man from the lab. James Lee’s clothes had two sets of blood types on them. One was his from the wreck and guess who the other was?”
Detective Gordon replied, “Jennifer’s.”
“Right,” answered the D.A. “These two boys may have had a conspiracy going on. They both may be guilty. They also found Jennifer’s scarf in James Lee’s pocket.”
As the two men set out to find the truth about the bizarre, twisted evidence, it looked like more and more fell on Shane since James Lee was dead, even if they were in on it together.
Monday morning, at the station, a copy of Jennifer’s autopsy report lay on Detective Gordon’s desk, and also the D.A.’s. Suddenly, Gordon’s phone rang. It was the D.A.
“Gordon, can you get over here on the double?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
In a matter of minutes he was in the D.A.’s office.
“What’s up?” asked Gordon.
“Have you seen the autopsy on Jennifer’s case?” questioned the D.A.
&nbs
p; “No, not yet,” he said. “I was about to read it when you called.”
“Here, look at it,” he replied.
Quickly, Gordon looked the report over. “She was pregnant!” cried Gordon, “A month, probably by Shane or James Lee.”
“I think we may have a motive,” sighed the D.A. “Come on, let’s check out Betty Kaye and also Shane’s stepdad.”
Shortly, they arrived at Betty Kaye’s. They knocked on her door. She answered it and stepped out on to the porch.
“Sorry to bother you again, Betty Kaye,” said the D.A. “But we would like to ask you a few questions. Jennifer and you fought a lot over Shane from what I have been told. I’d say you knew her pretty well.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I knew her. I thought we were friends for a while. Why?”
“Did you know she was pregnant?” asked the D.A.
“Pregnant!” she cried.
“Did she ever mention if Shane was the daddy?” asked Detective Gordon.
“Why no, no, I mean I didn’t know it,” she replied. “Was it Shane’s?”
“We don’t know,” said Detective Gordon. “But we thought you might have heard it from the other teenagers around.”
“No,” she replied. “This is the first time I heard it.”
“Just out of curiosity, Betty Kaye,” asked the D.A. “how was your relationship with Shane?”
“Are you asking if we messed around?” she said. “Well Shane and I had slept around from time to time behind Jennifer’s back, if that is what you want to know. When he got drunk he would come around. Yeah, sure I slept with him more than once,” she told the D.A.
“Did James Lee know?” asked Detective Gordon.
“Sure,” she replied. “I told him.”
“James Lee had a thing for you I heard,” stated the D.A. “How did he feel about that?”
“He didn’t like it,” she said. “He’d get mad.”
“Where were you the night Jennifer was killed?” asked the D.A.
“I was out of town,” she said. “I was at Bethany Point…alone. I needed some time by myself to think. I got home around 9:30 p.m. Ask my parents, they were home.”
“Well, that will be all for now,” they said as they left and headed to see Shane’s stepdad.
When they arrived he was sitting on the porch about half lit.
“Well, Detective Gordon and Mr. Sullivan, what brings you here?” he said. “The neighbors complaining I’m making too much noise again?”
“Oh, no,” laughed Detective Gordon. “We wanted to ask you a few questions,” replied the D.A.
“Ask away,” said Shane’s stepdad. “Do you mind if I have a little drink of my Roastner wine? Want some?”
“No, thanks,” they replied.
“Got some aged homebrew,” he chuckled.
“No, we’re fine,” they said.
“Okay now, what’s the question?” he asked.
“Did you know or have you ever heard anything about Jennifer being pregnant?”
Then he got awfully quiet and stopped his rocker. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I need another sip.” Then he looked up to them and said, “There’s no way that baby can be Shane’s.”
“Why do you say that?” replied the D.A.
“When Shane played ball in the tenth grade he was hurt during a game. After that Shane was not able to have children. It has been a well-kept secret all these years by the family. The only one who knew was the doctor, Shane, his mama, and me. You can check it out. There’s no way he could have children.”
“Well, thanks again,” they replied as they left and headed back to the station. The D.A. sat quietly as Detective Gordon drove.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked.
“Shane had a temper,” replied the D.A., “and a drinking problem. He couldn’t have children so maybe Jennifer met him in the meadow that night to tell him she was pregnant. He was already drunk when he got there. When she told him, he may have gone into a drunken rage knowing it couldn’t be his, and killed her.”
“That someone else,” said Gordon, “could have been James Lee.”
“Could have,” replied the D.A. “I think we have enough evidence to bring him in.”
“I agree,” replied Gordon.
In a matter of hours Shane was picked up. He was drunk. They took him to jail and charged him with murder in the first degree. When Shane arrived at the jail, he called his attorneys, Crook and Swindle. They rushed down to the jail and started working on his case.
In a day or two Shane was taken from jail for his arraignment. When he entered the courtroom, they took a seat. In a few minutes the bailiff called, “All stand.”
Then in walked Judge Clarence Rivers, II. “You may be seated,” he said. “Let’s see what we have here. Will the defendant rise? Shane Taylor you are aware of the charges brought against you, murder in the first degree?”
“Yes, sir,” he stated.
“How do you plead?” asked the judge.
“Not guilty, your honor,” he replied.
“Does counsel have any remarks at this time?” questioned Judge Rivers.
“Yes, your honor, we do,” they said. “Our client requests bail. He is noted to have lived here all his life and has no cause to flee.”
Carefully, the judge looked over the transcript. “Considering the seriousness of the crime,” he answered, “I’m going to deny bail and bind the case over to the Grand Jury. Court date is set for three weeks,” ordered the Judge. “Next!”
The next three weeks Shane and his attorneys worked day and night to prepare their case for court. They had very strong evidence against him and what they needed was a miracle from God. Time seemed to fly by.
Shortly, their time ran out. The deputies took him from jail to the courthouse on a warm and sunny day. There were a few people standing on the courthouse steps as they brought him in. This was the third time a case of this profile had come to Long Creek. Slowly, they entered the courtroom with Shane in shackles and chains. You could hear people whispering among themselves as he walked by.
Shortly the bailiff called for all to rise.
“Hear ye, hear ye, the commonwealth state of Alabama vs. Shane D. Taylor, Judge Clarence Rivers, II presiding, docket number 3A576180. You can be seated.”
As the judge slammed the gavel down, he stated that the court was now in session. Shane sat with his attorneys. Across from him sat the D.A. and his assistant, Benjamin Dillon, a young attorney not long out of law school.
The D.A. called their first witness, Officer Turner, who testified to seeing Shane at the wreck that night, coming through the roadblock. After a few questions, the defense attorney cross-examined. Witness after witness on both sides took the stand. The versions of testimony from the witnesses laid guilt toward Shane. The hard evidence against him laid a hard, unbreakable burden on the defense.
Betty Kaye sat in the courtroom listening to the trail. She never made a move or motion to come forth as the only eyewitness. In her eyes you could see the coldness and bitterness that lay within her.
The trial lasted four days. It didn’t look good for the defense. First, his truck was seen at the crime scene. Second, his fingerprints were on the murder weapon. Third, her blood was all over his bloody shirt. That was enough to establish a guilty plea with any jury. The strong evidence, plus no alibi, and no eyewitnesses were two other important factors in the case. On the fifth day the jury deliberated. It only took them an hour and a half to reach a verdict.
“All rise,” said the bailiff.
As Judge Clarence Rivers, II, made his way to the bench, he said, “You can be seated. Mr. Foreman of the jury,” he said, “has the jury reached a verdict?”
“We have, your honor,” he replied as he handed it to the bailiff.
The bailiff handed it to the judge. As
Judge Rivers opened it and read it, he handed it back to the bailiff, who handed it back to the foreman of the jury.
“Will the defendant rise and face the jury?” the judge ordered. “Foreman you can read the verdict.”
“The jury finds Shane D. Taylor guilty of murder in the first degree.”
Suddenly the courtroom burst out in an uproar.
“Order, order in this courtroom,” cried Judge Rivers. “I want to thank the jury for their deliberation and verdict, and you can consider yourselves dismissed. Shane Taylor you have been tried by your peers and you have heard the verdict,” stated the judge. “There will be a sentencing hearing in two weeks. Court adjourned!”
Shane dropped his head in silence as he left the courtroom. His lawyers would try for a mistrial, but at the same time work on an appeal. Shane shook his head hopelessly. Betty Kaye stood in the background as Shane left the courtroom. Her eyes watered; at the same time, a begrudging grin crossed her face.
The next two weeks flew by and once again Shane stood before the judge. Shane had given up all hope even though his attorneys worked around the clock to help him. As the judge took the bench, he once more asked Shane to stand.
“By the jurisdiction of the commonwealth state of Alabama, I hereby sentence you to life without parole. You will serve your time at Stoney Creek State Correctional Center, in Mobile, Alabama.”
His knees nearly buckled under him as tears filled his eyes. Then the court officers led him away.
The years ahead would be hard for Shane. Life without parole was hard time. The first two years was a nightmare. He couldn’t adjust. He stayed in fights, was stabbed twice, and raped.
They say it can make you or break you. His only peace was his quiet time in his cell. There he thought about Jennifer and growing up in the meadow. He wished a thousand times that he could smell the sweet fragrance of the forget-me-nots. Time and time again he went over and over each and every detail of what happened, but failed to put all the pieces together.
His stepdad came to see him every once and a while. They sat around and talked a lot. He was about all the family that Shane had left. There were a couple of aunts and one uncle that had come once but never came back. His lawyers would come by at first to give him an update on the appeal, but nothing ever came of it.
As the years passed, Shane began to settle down and adjust to prison life. He hated every day he was there, but made the best of it.
The trial took place in 1932. It was 1939, seven years later, when he received a letter from one of his aunts. She wrote that Jim, his stepdad, had died from cirrhosis of the liver. A few years later, 1948, his lawyer retired with no hope of him ever getting out.
Not only was Shane fighting the ghost of his past, but Betty Kaye was dealing with hers all through those years. After the trial she had moved from Long Creek to Bethany Point. She finally married, settled down, and raised two children. But her years weren’t easy. Day after day, night after night, she recalled the look on Shane’s face when the foreman of the jury said guilty. There were times she wanted to say something about what she had seen, but her anger and bitterness convinced her to make him pay for the way he had treated her. There’s nothing worse than a woman scorned. She had tried numerous times to get Shane to dump Jennifer but he wouldn’t. It appeared that all Shane wanted with her was to play around, but he didn’t love her like he loved Jennifer.
Dying now with cancer, Betty Kaye wanted to make things right, if she could. It was because of her that Shane went to prison. She couldn’t fight the demons anymore. She had carried it around for all those years. She had to get it off her chest. It was easy for the first few years. The bitterness and anger suppressed back the reality of what she had done. As the years passed, it slowly wore her down, and the truth of what she had done caused her to face reality.
First, she went back to Long Creek and talked to Benjamin Dillon who was the Assistant D.A. at Shane’s trail. He was now a defense lawyer who had always been intrigued about the case. Benton Sullivan, who was the D.A. then, had retired a few years back. Henry James Carr was appointed the new district attorney.
It was 1957; Shane had spent 24 years in prison. When Benjamin and Betty Kaye made their visit to Shane, she told him what she saw. Then he turned to her and asked her why she hadn’t come forth.
She replied in tears, “I begrudged your and Jennifer’s relationship. I was young, selfish, and bitter. I hated her, but I loved you, and if I couldn’t have you no one else would. I thought at first, at the opening of the trial, that prison might help you. Shane, you are a totally different person when you are drinking. It was like I didn’t know you at times.”
“Then tell me this,” he said. “Do you know whose baby it was she carried?”
“No, I don’t know,” she replied. “No one knew except her. I had never known her to be with anyone except you.”
“What about James Lee?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“What do you think, Benjamin?” asked Shane.
“Her testimony alone should be enough,” he stated. “I have reviewed the case and there was some evidence that was not used in the trial by the D.A. It is all circumstantial, but with her testimony and the new evidence it could create the doubt we need for a new trial. We will have to try it and see.
For the next year, Benjamin worked on building a new case. He knew if the new evidence and eyewitness didn’t overturn the verdict that Shane would die in prison. With appeals and overloaded court cases, Benjamin fought to make a motion for an early trail. Finally, in 1959, his opportunity came. Shane was offered a new trial based on the one and only eyewitness.
The new trial date was set and they brought Shane back to Long Creek to stand trial. As he entered Long Creek he noticed how much it had changed. The town had grown a lot in ways, but some things had stayed the same. The courthouse looked smaller than before. He remembered it was huge when he stood trial. There was not as much of a turnout this time as before. Most everyone he knew was all but gone. He noticed a lot of new faces as they entered the courtroom.
“Hear ye, hear ye, all rise. The commonwealth state of Alabama vs. Shane D. Taylor, docket number 3A576180B, Judge William Thomas Roark presiding. You may take your seats.”
Then Judge Roark called for the lawyers to approach the bench. He quietly talked to them for a minute, and they took their seats. District Attorney Henry James Carr began and was followed by the defense. About all the D.A. could do was to rehash the old evidence from the former trail. But Benjamin introduced new evidence that was suppressed in the first trial, which directly indicated that there was a possibility of someone else who could have killed Jennifer besides his client, Shane D. Taylor. The Judge permitted the evidence. Benjamin laid out other possibilities that helped create a suspicion of doubt to the jurors. One, Jennifer’s scarf was found in James Lee’s coat pocket the night he was killed. Two, there were two sets of prints on the brick, Shane’s and someone else’s.
“Let it be known to the jury that this is a signed document of the FBI crime lab in Birmingham. By a ninety percent accuracy of their new testing of the other fingerprints on the brick, they are now able to recognize and record the other prints as belonging to James Lee. Also, the crime lab retested the bloody shirt of James Lee, not Shane’s shirt, but James Lee’s from the wreck. They found two types of blood. One was his from the wreck and sprinkled spots of blood from Jennifer, who was already dead. Furthermore, I have the testimony of Richard Davis, the friend who took James Lee out to the meadow that night and forgot to come back and get him, along with some of his friends from Dry Ridge who have signed sworn affidavits of hearing James Lee earlier making threats against Shane Taylor, circumstantial, yes, coincidence, no. The truth lies here with James Lee and Shane Taylor.”
Then the D.A. got up
and raised the motion that the evidence was circumstantial, and the defense was on a wild good chase.
“Your honor, I ask for a petition to the jury to disregard the new evidence. It is irrelevant to the solid evidence that has already convicted Shane Taylor. This is a farce, an absurd witch hunt.”
Then the judge turned and thought a minute and said, “It does create doubt,” he said. “Request denied, Mr. Dillon.”
“Your honor, I would like to call the only eyewitness at this time,” he said, “Betty Kaye Howard.” She took the stand. “Betty Kaye would you tell us and the jury what you saw that night in the meadow?”
“I had driven out to the meadow that night. I had heard Jennifer was to meet Shane about 8:00 p.m. I got there a little early. Jennifer was sitting down on a quilt in the tall grass. Just as I lay down not far from her, Shane pulled up in his truck. He got out with an oil lantern and went over to sit beside her. They started to talk. Then he heard something and called out. I lay motionless in the grass. I didn’t want to get caught. Then it happened again and Shane stood up and yelled. Slowly, he began to walk around. Then he disappeared in the darkness. Everything was quiet. Then I noticed a snake slithering through the grass near me. I froze and covered my head and waited. A few minutes later I looked up again. When I looked up I saw Jennifer lying on the ground and James Lee standing over her with a brick in his hand. Then he threw the brick down and stuck her scarf into his coat pocket. Next he called out my name. I dropped my head and lay still. When I looked up he was gone. I quickly eased up out of the grass and left for home. I never saw Shane again that night after he entered the darkness.”
“Thank you, Betty Kaye,” replied Benjamin.
“Do you have any questions for the witness?” asked Judge Roark.
“Yes, I do,” replied the D.A. “Betty Kaye, why didn’t you come forward at the first trial?”
“I was angry and mad at the way Shane treated me. I thought prison would make him grow up.”
“For revenge, you say,” said Henry James.
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “You could say that.”
“Is it true,” he asked, “you are now dying of cancer and you want to die with a clear conscious and that’s why you decided to testify now? To make you feel better.”
“I object, your honor!” shouted Benjamin. “Her dying plea is to make a wrong right. Not to make her feel better.”
“Sustained,” cried Judge Roark. “Remove that last statement. Do you, Mr. Carr, have any other questions?”
“No, sir, your honor. Oh, yes, one more. Betty Kaye are you still in love with Shane?”
“I object!” cried Benjamin.
“Objection denied. You may answer the question.”
“Y…es, I…,” she answered stuttering.
“Is it not true that you’ve always been in love with him?”
“I object!” yelled Benjamin as he called for a conclusion.
“Objection sustained,” said the judge. “Do you have any further questions?” asked the judge.
“No, your honor,” stated the prosecution.
“You may step down,” replied the judge.
Two days later the jury went into deliberation. About an hour later the jury notified the court they had reached a verdict. As the judge entered, he looked at the verdict. Then the foreman read it aloud.
“We the jury find Shane D. Taylor not guilty of murder in the first degree.”
Benjamin, Shane, and Betty Kaye leaped for joy as the judge called for order in the courtroom.
“Shane D. Taylor, by the Commonwealth of the state of Alabama I hereby order you released from Stoney Creek Correctional Center in Mobile no later than this afternoon by 5:00 p.m. The sheriff’s deputy will take you down there to get your things and hand deliver the papers to the warden.”
Six months later Betty Kaye died of cancer. Benjamin went on with his law practice and Shane returned to Long Creek to live. He had spent nearly thirty years in prison and now he was a free man.
“It feels good,” he said. “I never thought air could smell so clean.”
On his first day back, Shane went to the meadow. He had longed to see it again after all this time. He and Jennifer had so many happy memories there. He thought it would be the best place to start his new life. It was spring. The chimney that once stood there was nothing but a pile of bricks. A patch of bluebells grew with wild Sweet William near the fallen chimney. The ground was hard and rocky and sagebrush grew now with the tall grasses. He looked about for the wild forget-me-nots but saw none. Then as he turned he noticed a grave overlooking the valley. It was Jennifer’s. She had made her parents promise her she would be buried in the meadow. As he slowly walked over to her grave, he saw her name on the stone and growing on top of her grave was a patch of forget-me-nots. No one but Jennifer’s parents knew that Shane had bought the meadow years ago for Jennifer as a wedding present.
As time passed, Shane built their dream house there. He took the fallen brick and built a chimney, followed by their dream house.
Then one day a haunting ghost of the pass came to reality. While Shane was picking up bricks from the pile he found a metal box. Inside of it he found her diary. As the thumbed through it, he read that his stepdad had raped her, and that it was his child. He buckled at the knees and fell to the earth. Angrily he cried out across the meadow, “Oh, God, oh God, why!”
Time passed and no one ever knew about the diary except Shane. The long unanswered question of the baby was finally put to rest. From that point on he stayed to himself. He never married, nor dated. His family was all gone. All that he had left was the meadow to call home. A few years later he died and was buried next to Jennifer. The meadow is now overflowing with forget-me-nots and tall grasses.
But, yet to this day, there lies an unanswered secret among the forget-me-nots of the meadow. Did Shane actually kill Jennifer with the motive that District Attorney Sullivan believed? Or could it have been James Lee from what the only witness said? To this day, the real truth still lies in the meadow where the tall grasses wave in the wind and kiss the blooming forget-me-nots.