by Ann Mullen
But the truth is, any compassion he had, and it wasn’t much, went out the window after being around Bernice for even a few hours. He would feel left out of everything. They would laugh at him—not with him, mind you—but at him. Together, they made him crazier than he already was. That’s what he would tell Denise later.
But this time, Denise had all she could stand. She was determined to get her way about something. She had reached her limit. She went along with Roger in the beginning because she loved him so much, but now it was time for a change. All she could think about, besides surviving the beating she would get when they got back home, was that it was time to take a stand. She was tired of being bullied and beaten. Maybe she could talk some sense into him.
Go with the flow.
Staying with his parents was barely tolerable for Denise. They fawned over Roger as if he was the only person left on earth. His mother babied him, even to the point of cutting his meat—and the worst part of all—he would let her do it. His father agreed with every word that came out of Roger’s mouth. She thought the man was spineless.
“I’ll go with you to your parents’ house, but I want to leave after four days. It’s only fair,” she said. “If you won’t leave when I want to, I’ll call Bernice and have her come pick me up.”
“That’s totally out of the question,” Roger spat back. “What would my parents say?”
She avoided his stare by keeping her eyes glued in the direction of the passing scenery. She didn’t want a heated argument right off the bat. They’d been on the road less than twenty minutes.
“I’m sorry, Roger,” she said. “But I’m not happy about visiting Barbara and Winston. They talk down to me and treat me like an outsider. I’ve told you before, but you say I’m just being silly. You say your folks adore me, but they don’t.”
“They do!” Roger’s voice rose. His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “They’ve been good to us. They gave us the money to put down on our house, and they’ve always been there when we needed something.”
“When you needed something,” Denise said snidely. “Where were they when I had pneumonia last year?”
“They…”
“Roger, I was in the hospital for a week, sick as a dog. I almost died, and did they ever come to visit me? No, not once. They stayed at our house and took care of you—not me. What kind of family does something like that?”
Roger pressed down on the accelerator, dangerously exceeding the speed limit. His patience was wearing thin, she could see it in the way his body stiffened up. Better stop, Denise.
I have to do better.
The long stretch of highway leading to Zion’s Crossroads is isolated for miles. There are no houses or businesses, not even a gas station in some areas. Sections of the drive were without cell phone reception.
Denise was really becoming concerned about Roger’s driving. If an animal jumped out in front of them, she doubted very seriously that he’d be able to stop in time. She had to get him to slow down.
“I’m sorry,” she said trying to smooth over the icy tension in the air. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I guess I’m a little upset about not getting to stay with my sister longer. Maybe next time.”
But she knew it wouldn’t be any different next time, either. She stifled her anger and tried to see the good side of this vacation. At least she would get to see her sister. Ever since she married Roger, it had been a battle just getting him to agree to a visit.
Roger couldn’t understand why Denise made him lose his temper all the time. Didn’t she know her place? Now that he thought about it, he was rather proud that he had maintained control and had slipped only a few times. She was lucky that he was such a good husband. Compared to what he had seen from others, he treated his wife like a queen. She had it good. So what if he’d hit her a few times? She deserved it. Smug to the point of being ridiculous, he let out a chuckle.
Her anger building, Denise remarked, “Maybe you could share your joke with me.”
Roger didn’t look at her; instead he kept his eyes glued to the road as he responded. “I was just thinking about how childish you are. You have it good, but you don’t appreciate it. What’s your problem?”
Denise didn’t respond. She knew when it was time to shut up. Instead, she thought about how sweet he used to be. Go with the flow. Whatever triggered it, the beatings or the cover-up, today was the day that she finally came to the realization she had to get out of this abusive relationship. Roger was going to beat her to death eventually. She knew it.
“All I want is to have a nice visit with my folks before I have to go put up with your stupid sister!” Roger shouted.
Denise clinched her fists and didn’t dare look him in the eyes. She was angry, but she knew what was coming if this conversation continued. She just couldn’t help herself when the words slipped out. “My sister isn’t stupid, Roger.”
“She’s a moron!” he screamed. “She’s not smart enough to be stupid.” His eyes bulged as he drew his hand back and slapped her hard across the face, almost losing control of the car.
She was caught off-guard, as usual. When she reacted to his physical violence by yelling at him, he hit her again. This time he didn’t beg for her forgiveness as he usually did, instead, he chastised her for provoking him. Afterwards, she tried to pull herself together and tell herself that she had to stop giving him a reason to get mad at her. I have to do better.
“Why can’t we split the difference like I suggested?” she asked. “We’ll stay with your folks for four days, and then…”
“God, would you please just shut up?” he yelled. “We’re not changing our plans, so stop yapping about it. I’m so sick of your whining. If I have to listen to your crap the whole time, I’ll go crazy!”
A tear slid down Denise’s cheek.
“Oh, now you’re going to cry,” he hissed. “You’re such a baby!” Roger gripped the steering wheel even tighter, slammed on the brakes, and then pulled off to the side of the road. He was like a madman. His eyes bulged and drool ran out of the corner of his mouth. He got out of the car, walked over to her side, and jerked open the car door. He grabbed her by the arm as hard as he could and pulled her out of the car, throwing her to the ground. He was going to make her pay.
Denise was in shock. He’d been brutal so many times, but this time was different. The look in his eyes sent shivers down her spine, and made her mouth go dry. This was the end of the road for her. She knew it the minute she looked into those dark, menacing, evil eyes. He had snapped. This was going to be her last beating. Would he really beat her to death and dump her body in the woods, never to be found?
There was nothing around for as far as the eyes could see and there were no other cars on the road. This time he could punish her out in the open without having to worry about anyone seeing him do it. He felt elated as he dragged her into the wooded area and began slapping her. His momentum built with each strike. When she fell to the ground, he kicked her square in the face. Blood gushed from her nose and mouth. She lay in a heap, defeated.
Roger stood there and laughed at her, his eyes filled with rage. He bent down and drew back his hand again.
Denise raised her arm to protect herself from his next blow as she lay in the wet, foul smelling grass.
This area of woods had been a place used by travelers who needed to make a pit stop to relieve themselves. Access to a bathroom was another fifteen miles up the road, so this turned out to be a good place to stop for those who couldn’t hold it any longer. Littered with used toilet paper, garbage, and plenty of discarded condoms, the air reeked of decomposing matter. The smell was worse than a landfill on a hot, humid summer day.
Denise spied a broken bottle lying next to her. For just a split second, she hesitated, going over in her mind the consequences of her actions if she were to defend herself with the dangerous weapon. What would she do if she cut him badly? She didn’t want to hurt Roger, but
she had to make him stop.
She knew that women were abused every day and many of them wind up being killed by their husbands. It happened all the time. She’d heard so many horror stories. But she never really believed it would happen to her… until now. For so long, she told herself that her husband just had a bad temper. He didn’t mean anything by it. Those days and those thoughts were now a thing of the past.
She grabbed the bottle and struck him as he bent over her, preparing for his next assault. Blood spurted from his neck as he fell to his knees. He grabbed his throat, fell over and lay in the grass, gasping for air.
“Help me,” his gurgling voice tried to say.
Denise sat on the ground, looking around, appalled at what she had done. She couldn’t move. The sight of him in that condition sickened her to no end—the blood, the mass of tissue flapping around the gaping wound to his throat.
Roger’s breathing stopped and his eyes became fixed. He was dead.
Denise panicked. What was she to do? She would surely go to prison for her actions. It wasn’t her fault. He made her do it—that’s what she would tell the police. Then she thought about that statement.
“That’s exactly the same thing a man would say when he beat his wife,” she said out loud, talking to no one.
She knew her explanation of the event wouldn’t wash. No one would believe her. There was no history of violence in their marriage. There was no proof. They’d say she wanted him dead, lured him out to a deserted area, and killed him. This was like a bad movie.
No more, she told herself. Denise dragged herself up, straightened her clothes, and even though her knees were wobbly, she managed to get back to the car without collapsing. She still had the broken bottle in her hand. Fortunately, her cell phone had reception, however scratchy it was. She punched in 911 and waited for the call to go through. When someone answered on the other end, she told the dispatcher they were on their way to Nag’s Head when they were attacked by the hitchhiker her husband had picked up earlier.
“Please hurry!” she cried into the cell phone. “I ran into the woods, but I can’t hide forever. He’s going to find me. He’s going to kill me just like he did my husband!”
When the police arrived on the scene they discovered Roger’s lifeless body lying in a pool of blood with the rest of the trash. The wife was missing and their car was nowhere in sight. Three days later, Robert and Denise Sutton’s car turned up in a Wal-Mart parking lot, two hundred miles from the scene of the crime.
The blood on the passenger’s side of the car had later been determined to be that of the wife of the dead man—but her body still hadn’t been found.
Had the hitchhiker abducted the woman, killed her and then dumped the body somewhere else?
Denise Sutton disappeared forever on that fateful day. A week later, Bernice quietly moved out of her apartment, leaving no forwarding address. Neither one of the sisters has been seen or heard from since.
I know this story to be true, and I know where they are, but I’m not telling anyone. Because you see, I’m Bernice.
Go with the flow. He can’t hurt anyone… anymore.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Greene County Sheriff Scott Haas for his time. He answered my endless questions like he runs our county—prompt, courteous, and to the point. I’m glad we have him as our sheriff. Don’t get me wrong folks. He can be just as tough on criminals as the characters in my book.
Tremendous thanks to Photographer Elaine Barnett and Tim Tepper. Love to Tom, Tommy, Wendy and Jake, and as always, my wonderful mother… Minnie Crumpler, and also the rest of my family—two-legged or four-legged. This one’s for my readers. Thank you for your continued readership and support.
Look for my next book:
The Prey Bites Back
A Jesse Watson Mystery
Book #8
Due out before Christmas 2012