by Noah Rea
I put all my cash on the table. “Here, this is all the cash I have. Take it. I would not blame you one bit if you put me out somewhere. I know you will eventually be in danger if you keep helping me. Please don’t turn me over to the black SUV people. I am sure they will kill me.”
I didn’t mention the police, and she didn’t either.
“OK, for now you can ride with me. I think you need to get as far away as possible so I will aim for California. I probably will let you out in LA or San Diego so you can blend in with the large number of people. If I were you, I would get a good tan and keep it. I would learn Spanish. I would start a new life and not contact anyone you have ever known.” She thought for a moment. “I am sure you can get a new birth certificate, driver’s license, and passport and be someone new. Do you have family?”
I didn’t answer for a long time. I had to let my parents and Rebecca’s know I didn’t do anything wrong, and I was OK. I knew they would pray this will be over soon and I survive it.
“I need to call my parents, but it’s risky.”
I wasn’t ready to tell Deb about Rebecca, but I hoped my parents would call hers. There was just no way to get it all done. Maybe my parents would figure it out, or maybe it was better not to contact her parents yet.
“Do you want me to make the call?” Deb asked.
After thinking about it for a bit, I wrote a short list of things I wanted for her to say to them.
1. I am OK.
2. I didn’t do anything wrong.
3. Someone is trying to frame me and kill me.
4. Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me until this is cleared up. It could take a long time. I don’t want to risk calling you until then.
She found a pay phone at a rest area, and she made the call while I kept watch. She went through the list I had given her word for word. I didn’t know if the killers were listening to my parents’ phone, but I would have been surprised if they were not. Deb kept it short, knowing time on the phone was against us. She came straight back to the truck and was barely in it when the black SUV arrived.
“This needs to be the last time my truck is in a parking lot where they show up.” She said.
“I agree.”
The SUV arriving so quickly told us they were monitoring my parent’s phone, and we should not call often if at all.
After about an hour on the road, she glanced at me. “You killed someone, didn’t you?”
“No,” I simply said.
We drove on in silence. I guess she was glad she had me sleep outside, or maybe she wished she had gotten rid of me entirely. Now she believed I was a killer. I was glad for one thing, though. She knew I wasn’t crazy and knew there were some bad people trying to kill me.
She sighed. “We need to have a long talk, and you need to do some explaining. Your mother wanted to know if you really killed her. I told her what you said about not doing anything wrong, but you owe me, and I want to know the truth.”
My head was spinning. I was so grateful for what she had done and was so impressed with how well she handled things. I wanted to tell her the truth but was afraid the more I told her, the less likely she would be to help me.
Would I tell her the whole truth? Was she ready for that? What if she wanted me to prove something I couldn’t prove? What if she decided to turn me over? At this point I guess I would rather be turned over to the police. At least I would have a chance to live. A low-percentage chance is better than a zero chance. I would have zero chance with the killers.
Nothing real serious happened the rest of the day, and the night was pretty much the same. She didn’t push me for a quick answer and I was glad. We ate supper with small talk and visits with other people. We got our showers, and I got a good night’s sleep. I was more used to the nighttime noises now, and they didn’t waken me as much. But the next morning, Deb didn’t look like she had slept well at all.
“Should we talk right here standing by the truck, or should it be over breakfast?” she asked.
“It is up to you. It will take a while, and I don’t want my story to upset your breakfast.” I answered. “I’m so drained I need breakfast, even though I got a good night’s rest.
“Me too,” she said. “A month ago I wouldn’t have believed anything could upset my breakfast, but now I am not sure. You had better tell the truth because I will try to verify everything you say. A Jersey girl is hard to fool.”
I wanted to be honest. It was the least I owed her. She suggested we eat now and then stop somewhere down the road and get a cup of coffee. “I want to look you in the eye while we talk. I want to know that you are being truthful so I want you to look back at me straight in the eyes as you tell me everything.” She said.
After breakfast and a short drive, she pulled off the interstate.
We found a quiet big restaurant with a lot of empty parking spaces. She parked and we sat away from most of the other customers in a corner booth with our backs to the wall.
“You were right about me not telling you everything. I apologize. I was afraid to tell you everything before. Now I will tell you anything you want to know.” I paused to catch my breath and steady my nerves. I didn’t like thinking about it and talking about it but I knew I had to.
I told her the whole thing. I told her about my job, Rebecca’s job, and our lives together. I told her about our home, people we loved, people who were family and friends. I told her about the night that was still such a nightmare, even now. I paused as the emotion rose in my chest and I couldn’t speak for a minute and tears came to my eyes.
I told her how my emotions were a roller coaster with sadness, depression, hopelessness, and loneliness. My telling her made me cry when I couldn’t stop a swell of emotion that swung to fear. I had trouble breathing at times. I talked to her about crying in the restaurant the day we met. I said the tears and emotion were real, and I was not conning her.
“When we first met, you asked me about things I had done. You said I looked as if I had just lost my best friend in the whole world. You couldn’t have been more correct. Rebecca had been killed, but I didn’t do it. And being suspected of doing it made me more depressed and afraid.”
I wanted her to believe me and I wanted her to know she had saved my life and she hadn’t been conned.
“You have saved my life. If anyone had caught me in the car, I would have been dead.” I paused. “Please take me to California or at least as far as Texas before you put me out. I need to be in a big town where I can get lost. I need time to find out what really happened and to clear my name.”
Then we sat there in silence for what seemed a long time. I had a personal rule about deferring to her in any conversation regarding what she wanted to talk about. After a while I broke my rule and asked her what happened to my car.
Deb laughed. It was the first time I had seen her laugh in several days. Helping me was wearing on her.
“I threw the license plate out into the weeds and then found a guy who looked like he had cash on him. I told him I had my ex-husband’s car and didn’t care what happened to it. I said I actually preferred to have it stripped for parts. He could take the keys and drive it away. I told him I would walk off and never look back, and he could drive the car as long as he lived. I said I needed $2000 for another problem, and that amount of money is what she wanted for the keys.”
He told her to go inside and wait for him. He came and got her, and they walked to the car. He told her he had the money in his pocket, and if the keys she gave him would start the car, he would throw her the money.
“That is fine with me.” She told him.
The keys started the car, and he threw her the money. She asked him what he wanted her to do so she wouldn’t see him drive off.
He laughed. “Darlin’, you do what you want ’cause nobody can catch me now.” And he sped off as fast as the car would go.
I laughed a little too. She got rid of the car, and no one is likely to find anything of it but
parts. “I should have thought of something similar. Your solution was ingenious, and I wished I had thought of it.”
“You weren’t thinking right about much of anything at the time.” She said and she was right.
After a long pause I slowly asked, “OK, where are we? Are you going to turn me over to someone? Are you going to verify everything I said? Or are you going to strand me right here and now?”
I could hardly breathe because I was afraid of her answer. I didn’t think I would live this long before. She had been so good to me. Now I was sure she was done with helping me and I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t know, but I want to verify a few things.” She said.
“I’ll give you whatever phone numbers you want.” I said and suggested she use an alias name and a different phone when she called because she could get herself on someone’s hit list.
Deb agreed with me. Her code name would be “Ann,” and she would pay cash for a prepaid cheap phone. Then she’d throw it away when she had finished asking questions.
“You are still on probation.” She said with a little sternness in her voice.
I was so relieved. I didn’t know exactly what being on probation with her would mean but I would take about anything from her as opposed to being turned over to someone.
So we continued on toward California, and at first nothing changed that I could tell but the weather. We crisscrossed the South while we were slowly working our way west. She still was careful not to trust me too much, and I slept outside even in the dew and rare rain. I had a tarp I could string over me to keep dry. Or at least out of the direct rain. Now she was leaving me alone more than she had while I watched TV. She didn’t take her showers while I was taking mine, so she had time away from me then too. I guessed she was calling around to see who would verify what and didn’t want me to be anywhere around when she was on the phone. She was also watching for a black SUV while on the phone. She didn’t say anything but her demeanor was getting softer and I knew she had verified at least some of what I had told her. Also she didn’t mention me being on probation again so I knew things were getting better.
Deb was a runner. She told me I had messed up her routine. Before she took me into the truck she ran about five miles at least three times a week. She had beautiful runner’s legs. It took her awhile to get back into her routine of running. The problem she had was not know what to do with me while she was running. After my hair got long enough with a beard we felt I should be able to run and not be recognized. So she talked me into running with her. The first day out I only made it three miles or so. She had run a shorter route suspecting I wouldn’t make five mile. So she dropped me off at the truck stop to walk to the truck and she ran out about a mile and then back to get her five miles in.
A few days after I gave her the phone numbers we were sitting at Oklahoma Joe’s Bar-B-Q just outside Kansas City. We were eating dinner when she said in this real low voice, “I guess you know you’re wanted for murder. Some of your friends don’t believe you did it, and some think it might be possible. Your parents don’t and neither do Rebecca’s.”
“The case has been turned over to the FBI. No one knows why it isn’t a police case any longer. The police and FBI swept your house and didn’t find as much as a hair that didn’t belong there. In their opinion no one could have come in the house without leaving something traceable. There was no sign of forced entry and they are sure you did it. They figured you two had an argument. You came after her with the letter opener, and she pulled a gun to protect herself. You were too fast or too strong, and she didn’t get off a shot.”
Deb had found a person who gave her the name and number of an FBI agent who didn’t believe I did it. She called him. The FBI guy told Deb he believed Ben was innocent and wanted to talk to me.
“Sure he does. So he can turn me in and get super cop status.” I said and then paused. When was this going to get better I was asking myself? Now I was really scared again and getting nauseated. “Did you believe him?”
She nodded “yes”.
Neither of us said anything for several minutes while I tried to think.
“Rebecca didn’t have a gun and wouldn’t have pulled one if she did.” I said quietly. “She would fight hard but she has never held a gun in her hands. She wouldn’t know how to use it.”
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Do you think I can do it safely?”
“I think you should call him.” Deb said.
“I don’t want to.” I said and then paused. “I don’t know what to do, but you are the only person I have been able to trust up until now. If you think I should, I will try. Will you help me?”
“Of course. Look, the more I talked to people about you, the more I confirmed what you said is true. And I learned some other things about you. It’s funny…I felt I already knew you and I felt like you were telling me the truth. All this has confirmed what I believed was true. I was beginning to find myself trusting you more and more and it scared me to trust you. That fear is what made me want proof what you were saying was true.”
Deb paused for a moment. “I like you Sam…”
She said my name with attitude as if she was rubbing it in that I hadn’t given her my correct name.
“I mean, as strange as this sounds, whoever you are, whatever your name is, you are right now one of my friends, and I trust you. You are reliable. You don’t cause me any trouble…” She paused. “You know what I mean. And I haven’t been afraid to turn my back on you for several months now.”
It was a relief to hear that from her as I had begun to really feel close to her as well. You can’t help that, I guess, when you spend so much time with someone and you get along really well as we did.
“That is just because I jump when you say frog and I’m the best help you ever had.” I joked.
She smiled and went on telling me what she had found out. She told me about how my parents, Rebecca’s parents, and my friends and co-workers had stood up for me. They all knew I loved Rebecca, and knew there was no way I would do anything to hurt her.
“And for an accountant, you aren’t a very good financial planner if you’re a murderer.” She chuckled. “You only had a $100,000 life insurance policy on Rebecca.”
Deb paused and then said. “Also Rebecca’s parents said she didn’t know anything about guns and would not have picked up one. She would have run or fought with lamps or fireplace tools but never a gun. So that checks out as well. Actually everything you have told me appears to be true.”
“But you didn’t tell me the whole truth from the beginning. I’m not happy about that but I understand at least a little. You didn’t trust me either. We were two strangers thrown into a truck cab all day long trying to keep an eye on the other.”
“Anyway, the FBI guy had checked on the gun in Rebecca’s hand. It wasn’t registered to her. It was registered to a guy in Chicago, who had never been to Virginia, and he didn’t know it was missing. He called back later and confirmed he couldn’t find it after being alerted to the crime.”
We sat for a while longer, drinking cold southern tea and eating spicy Bar-B-Q.
I found my mind wandering back to the day Rebecca and I had met, when she’d been sitting outside the auditorium where I’d taken my CPA exam. I’d finished the exam and had headed out. Her smile had first caught my eye—she’d smiled at me so big when I’d first come out of the door—until she’d realized I wasn’t who she had expected to see. Then she stopped smiling and then smiled at me a little.
“I didn’t mean to disappoint you. Please don’t stop smiling on my account.” I had said.
“Sorry, I thought for sure you were my sister. She seems to finish every test first.”
“Hello? HELLLLLOOOO!” Deb was saying.
I realized Deb had been trying to get my attention. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to drift off there.”
Deb and I worked together on a plan to contact the FBI. She threw away the first prepaid cash pho
ne, and she bought another one and activated it for me under another name. I used it to talk to the guy from the FBI. We talked several times and each time we talked, it would be for no more than two minutes. He said he had equipment that would tell him if someone was listening anywhere on his end or mine or anywhere in between. With that said now the question was whether we could trust him? It was still too scary for me.
Deb normally turned her phone off at night and put it on a charger. The next morning we were going over the truck doing our pre-trip checklist. Just about ten minutes after she turned her phone on, a black SUV pulled into the parking lot. When I saw it, fear ran through me. One glance at her and I knew she was terrified. After pausing for just a minute, it headed straight for us. I yelled to her to turn off her cell. Then I said we should turn off everything else electronic.
Then another fear swept over me. What if someone had put a bug on the truck somewhere? But they would have to know the truck was ours first. Had they done that? Once she turned her phone off, the SUV slowed and then began to weave in different directions. It was her phone they had tracked. Just then a black helicopter passed slowly overhead. It was really quiet like it was in stealth mode or something. We didn’t hear it coming and that scared me even more. We were somewhat hidden on the darker side of the truck, but I was petrified.
“Get in,” she whispered.
We started rolling ever so gently and lazily out of the parking slot. She had her phone up to her head just talking away. She was telling someone about Uncle Willy’s drinking problem. Her face was pale and flushed. Her phone was off, but she was acting a phone conversation as if her life depended on it, and we were hitting the road. I was hidden down in the floorboard, and she was whispering what was happening. We slid right past the black SUV with her not looking their way except out of the corner of her eye. It was scary. She couldn’t see anyone in there. Thankfully, they didn’t seem interested in her truck. They seemed to be checking out all the motor homes, cars, and SUVs coming in and out. There were quite a few.
We didn’t talk for almost an hour. We were both scared. I told her she could drop me off. She didn’t need to risk her life for a stranger.