by Davis, SJ
The Jeep crested Indian Hill and she slowed to twenty-five. With peak tourist season past, Main Street was virtually empty. She drove by the school and hospital and on through Greenville Junction. Annie’s memorial was to be held at the base of Little Moose Mountain next to a stand of white birch where the trail began …the very same mountain where Lena’s picture had been taken. Lena had assured her mother that it was an appropriate venue. Annie had loved the trail and loved the mountain. “She’ll be watching from a better place, Jane,” she’d said. “I’m certain she’ll approve.”
A couple of miles past Greenville Junction, she turned left onto the hardscrabble road that led to the trailhead. Pulling over, she took a deep breath. The memorial service was necessary, but it would certainly be hard. After steadying her nerves, she continued up the road.
Annie’s mother was standing in the parking area when she pulled in. Lena hugged her briefly and stepped away to arm’s length hiding her dismay. Jane Janson had aged ten years in one week. Her hair, once thick and brown, had turned completely white. Her mouth, always quick to smile, was set in a firm and bitter line.
“I came to help with the flowers,” she said. “How are you holding up?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess.” Jane pointed to her gray Chevy Impala and wiped her hands brusquely across her forehead. “They’re over in my car. I thought we’d set them up at the base of the trail.”
Lena nodded. She placed her own bouquet, an arrangement of Black-Eyed Susans, blue Iris, and delicate Baby’s Breath, on the ground at the foot of the mountain. Blinking quickly, she held back tears and retrieved another bouquet from the box on Jane’s back seat. One by one, she placed the vessels of flowers on the ground. When she was finished, she propped her picture against the vase she’d brought and stepped back to admire her work.
“It looks nice,” Jane acknowledged. “You always had a good eye, Lena.”
“Thank you.”
Annie’s mother turned to stare down the gravel road. “It won’t be long now. People will be arriving soon.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Lena said, shaking her head. “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine an end like this. I’m going to miss her so much.”
“Let it go.” Jane said, blinking rapidly. “I can’t bear to think of it.” She stood in silence for a moment. “I hear you’re getting divorced.”
Lena looked up, startled. The news had spread faster than she’d expected. “It looks that way, yes.”
Jane shook her head. “I have to tell you, Selene, I saw that coming.”
Lena raised an eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t see it coming at all.”
“That man of yours has a wandering eye. I caught him looking at my Diana many a time when your back was turned, not that she’d have anything to do with him. I’m surprised you never noticed.”
“I understand you’re distraught, but I think you’re mistaken, Jane,” Lena said, gently.
“I know what I saw, Selene.”
“We were all friends…me, Annie, Alex, and Jake. That’s all Alex was to Annie…a friend.”
“You believe what you like, but I recognize a cheating heart when I see one. I should know, I was married to one.” Jane crossed her arms and shook her head. “You’re a good girl - better off without him, in my opinion.”
“I’ll get by,” Lena said.
Jane sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. Your business with your husband is none of mine. Today’s about my daughter, not Alex Walker.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Annie should have left this town behind long ago, plain and simple. She was always looking for greener pastures and I wish she’d found them. Hindsight’s hell, isn’t it?”
Lena reached to touch her arm but she shirked away. “Perhaps you should move your car to the road. We’ll need the parking lot for the mourners. There’s a cone and sign in my car. If you could put them out to the turn-off, I’d surely appreciate it.”
Taking her cue, Lena drove the half mile back to the main road. She parked on the shoulder facing Greenville and placed the orange cone in the middle of the turn-off, propping Jane’s large hand-lettered sign against it where it would be seen by all who attended: Memorial Service for Annie Janson. 10 o’clock at the base of Little Moose Mountain. Please park and walk.
***
As people began to arrive, Lena made her way back to the edge of the clearing. By ten o’clock, hundreds had gathered, filling up the small space and spilling into the woods beyond. Her eyes roamed across the crowd, searching for familiar faces as Jake squeezed in beside her. Immediately, a bubble of space formed around them as people who’d been packed as tight as tinned sardines moved away. Lena ignored them. She took Jake’s hand and squeezed his fingers.
“Where’s Pam?” she whispered. “I thought that she’d be here with you.”
Jake’s voice quavered. “She won’t return my calls. She’s afraid of me Lena. They’re all afraid.”
Lena shook her head as she raised her eyes to his view his profile. Jake Morris’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot; his cheeks were gaunt under a three-day growth. Like Jane Janson, he’d aged ten years in the days since Annie’s mutilated body had been discovered.
“They all think I did it.”
Jillian MacDonald began to sing and the sweet melody of “Amazing Grace” filled the clearing.
“Don’t worry about what they think,” Lena whispered. “We both know you couldn’t and you didn’t. Just give it a few more days - the cops will figure it out and make an arrest.”
Jake shook his head. “Even Jane thinks I killed her. I went over to see her yesterday and she slammed the door in my face.”
“She’s overwhelmed and distraught. Give her time.” Lena squeezed his hand reassuringly as she looked at the faces of the mourners surrounding them. He was right, she realized dismally. Every eye she met was disparaging. She dropped her head to avoid the accusatory stares.
Jake’s hand began to shake again as Reverend Hearst stepped to the front of the audience and began to speak. Lena bent her elbow and tucked his arm up close, only half-listening to the minister’s sermon. As lovely as his words of solace were, the irony of the situation was hard to ignore: Annie Janson, so beautiful and vibrant, so loved and desired, the best friend she’d had in the world, had never once, in her entire life, set foot in a church.
Beside her, Jake seemed to shrink as more and more eyes turned their way
“Shhh now. Ignore them,” she whispered. “Today isn’t about them and their opinions. It’s for Annie and for us…our time to say goodbye. The only one we’ve got.”
At last it was over. She and Jake gathered the flowers and waited until the crowd thinned, watching the horde of mourners pay their final respects to Annie’s mother before making their way back to their cars on the main road.
“Want to go for a drink?” she said as the last one disappeared, leaving them alone in the clearing. “Jane’s having a reception at her house, but I think I’ll skip it.”
Jake hesitated. “Sure,” he said at last, his voice as shaky as his hands. “Where do you want to go…The Swan?”
“Why not? It’s the perfect place to toast her, don’t you think?”
He frowned. “Do you think Len will let me in?”
“Of course.” She gestured at the line of cars headed back toward Greenville. “Len’s not like the rest of these people. Shit, Jake, half of them were from out of town! They didn’t even know Annie! Drop your truck off and I’ll pick you up. There’s no sense giving Stan and the boys a reason to bust you for OUI.”
“Thanks Lena,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you these past few days.”
“Or I without you,” she assured him as she started the Jeep and put it into gear. “We’ll get through this, Jake. It’s been a rough road so far, but sooner or later it will get better.”
Jake’s smile was hopeful but fleeting. “I sure hope you’re right, because the way I feel now, I’m
at the end of my rope.”
The look on his face broke her heart. In less than a week he’d gone from one of the most popular guys in town to a social pariah. Putting the Jeep into gear, she followed him to his cottage and waited while he parked. When he was seated beside her, she drove the two miles into town and pulled in opposite The Black Swan. After a deep breath, she took Jake’s arm and crossed the street.
Inside, the buzz of conversation died as a handful of regulars looked their way, then Len hustled over and clapped Jake on the back. “Jake. Lena. Come on in and have a seat. I was hoping the two of you’d come by.”
“Thanks Len,” Lena said. She propelled Jake to a table in the corner while Lenny retreated to the bar and poured three beers.
“To Annie,” he said gruffly upon his return. “The sweetest, kindest, most exasperating woman I ever did know. God rest your soul, girl…we’re gonna miss you something awful.”
It was a fitting toast, Lena thought. She and Jake raised their glasses and drank.
The first beer went down easily. Len poured another round and sat with them, glaring at his other customers until the tension in the bar dissipated. When those were gone, Jake moved on to the harder stuff so Lena excused herself and said goodbye. With Jake drinking Jack Daniels, a long drive ahead of her, and the town full of cops, two beers were more than enough. She left him talking with Hal Coon, an old drunk who insisted he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the local gossip, and headed home to Blackwater Pond.
Chapter 30
Lena’s phone rang twenty minutes later. She debated letting it ring, then sighed and picked it up.
“Selene? That you?” The voice on the other side was gruff and anxious.
“Lenny?”
“Hey there, I’m sorry to bother you, but I think you should turn around and head back down here. Pronto.”
Lena pulled over in front of the general store. Her phone crackled but she still had a bar of service. “I’m all the way in Monson, Lenny. What’s going on?”
“Stan Spaulding and his boys were just here,” he said. “They arrested Jake and hauled him over to the jail.”
“What? I just left him not twenty minutes ago. He was a little tipsy, but other than that he was fine. Relatively speaking. What happened?”
Lenny cleared his throat and his voice dropped to a near whisper. Lena had to strain to hear him over the passing traffic.
“He was sitting in the corner with Hal drinking a beer when Stan came in with Charlie Baker and Blake Scully rambling on about Danny Jellick and a bag of weed.”
“Oh no,” Lena said.
“Oh yes.”
“What happened? Did Jake take a swing at him?”
“Not until after Stan told him that Judge Murphy had found probable cause and they’d gotten a warrant to search his house. Apparently, they found a pound and a half of pot in his bedroom closet. They’ve charged him with a Class C felony, Selene. Possession of Marijuana with Intent to Distribute.”
Lena shook her head. “No fucking way, Lenny. Jake hasn’t smoked in two years. Not since Annie made him quit! And he’s never dealt at all.”
“What he does behind his own door’s none of my business, Selene, but I believe you. Can you come back? I’ve got the whole scene caught on my security camera.”
“Hold tight, Len,” she said, turning the Jeep around. “I’ll be right there.”
When she reached the bar, Lenny was at the door, waiting. “Come into my office and I’ll show you the whole thing,” he said, ushering her into a small room behind the kitchen. “To tell you the truth, I think it stinks to high heaven.”
Lena waited while he slipped a disk into a DVD player and started it up, fast-forwarding past the point when she’d left the bar and slowing to real time a couple of minutes later. Slack-jawed, she watched the three officers enter The Swan and approach Jake where he sat with Hal.
“Does it have volume?” she asked, leaning closer.
“Sure.” Len turned a dial and Jake’s voice rang through the tiny room.
“Wait a minute,” he said, “this isn’t about pot, is it? What the hell’s going on? Charlie? Blake? Come on, guys. You know I don’t smoke anymore.”
“Please don’t make this any harder than it already is, Jake.” Stan Spaulding moved behind him and pulled him from the chair. “Place your hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”
Jake nodded.
“Yes or no, Jake.”
“Yes.”
“With these rights in mind is there anything you wish to say?”
In the video, Jake swayed dangerously. Blake Scully reached for his shoulder, holding him steady.
“Fuck you, Stinky,” he said, his words slurred. “You’ve got the wrong guy! I didn’t kill Annie Janson. I loved her! Jesus fucking Christ! I asked her to marry me.”
Lena swallowed hard as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I loved her, Stan,” he yelled, raising his fists. “Why the hell would I kill her?”
“No one said you did, Jake.” Stan Spaulding pushed him toward the door. “I’m busting you for possession, remember?”
“Bullshit, Stinky! You’re busting me for murder, but I didn’t kill her!”
Lena shook her head as the video showed Jake swinging at the Interim Chief. Stan Spaulding ducked and the blow breezed by his ear, harmlessly. No one in the barroom spoke; even old Hal turned away as the three cops strong-armed Jake and applied the cuffs.
“I didn’t kill her,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
“No one said you did, Jake.” Stan’s was the voice of reason as he shoved Jake roughly from behind. “No one said you did.”
Jake tripped, barely recovering his footing as Blake and Charlie steered him across the room. Accompanied by the bell, the door swung shut behind him.
Lenny turned off the video and shut down the machine.
“Is that it?” Lena asked.
“Ayuh.”
She slumped against the seat, her head in her hands. For the first time, she felt the cold fingers of panic creep around her heart. “This is crazy,” she whispered. “Jake loved Annie. He never would have hurt her. Not in a million years.”
“Well,” the old man said, “someone sure as hell went to a lot of trouble to make it look that way, didn’t he?”
Sighing, Lena wiped her eyes and stepped to the door. “I guess I’d better see what I can find out across the street,” she said. “Wish me luck.”
“It’s not you who needs it,” Lenny pointed out. “It’s Jake Morris.”
***
“What do you mean Possession with Intent?”
Stan Spaulding reclined in his chair, his feet on the desk. He smiled as he tapped his pen against his palm, infuriating Lena further.
“Jake hasn’t smoked pot in years, Detective Spaulding,” she sputtered. “What’s this really about?”
“Calm down,” he said pointing to the chair beside his desk. “Now, sit down.”
Reluctantly, she sank into the chair and waited for his explanation.
“You’re right. Jake’s arrest has nothing to do with the pot we found. Truth be told, we needed a reason to hold him and, thanks to Danny Jellick, we got one.” He smiled and shrugged. “What can I tell you? We got lucky.”
“Why do you need a reason to hold him?” she said. “Jake hasn’t done anything.”
Stan Spaulding’s pen tapped against the leg of his pressed pants. She bit her lip and kept her mouth shut.
“The guys from Bangor found his prints all over the plastic bags containing Annie’s body parts. They were also on the bags containing her personal effects.”
“You found her things?” Lena leaned forward and took his arm. “Everything?”
Stan Spauldi
ng removed her hand and smoothed the wrinkles from his suit. “We think so. Clothes, books, letters, pictures, jewelry. Her stuff was all in the dump, mixed in with the garbage.”
“I can’t believe it, Stan. I can’t believe that Jake would do such a thing.”
“Maybe he never meant to hurt her. Maybe they argued and he lashed out in frustration.” Stan Spaulding adjusted his tie in the office mirror and slicked back a stray hair.
Lena shook her head.
“How’s this scenario for you, Lena?” the Interim Chief continued. “Jake killed Annie by accident and then he panicked. To throw suspicion off himself, he emptied her house to make it look like she’d left town. When the coast was clear, he cut her up and took her body to the landfill. We’d never have found her if not for Treb’s dog, Sadie.”
Lena shook her head. “That doesn’t work for me. If it was accidental, Jake would have owned up to it. He wouldn’t have cut up her body and hidden it away.”
The detective smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Time will tell. When we find what he used to dismember her with, we’ll officially charge him with murder. In the meantime, he won’t be formerly arraigned for possession until Monday morning, so he’s safely locked away for the rest of the weekend.”
“Jake’s hardly a flight risk,” she argued.
“I beg to differ,” Stan Spaulding said. “If he did indeed kill Annie Janson, as we strongly suspect, he most certainly is.”
Middle Marks knocked once and stuck her head in the door. “Chief Spaulding? Lt. Johannson’s outside. He said to tell you they found it.”
Stan stood and buttoned his jacket. “Why don’t you sit tight, Lena? If this is what I think it is, we’ve just about got the whole thing wrapped up.”