Sidetracked-Kobo

by Brandilyn Collins

  Because of Clara’s family, that’s why. I’d done what I could for Billy, now I needed to keep silent.

  But in the core of me, I knew that was only half of it. I was afraid for myself. My face being seen by more people, by someone who might recognize me. Now I was actually engaged. All those years in CYA, longing for a family. I was on the verge of having it. And I couldn’t lose that. I couldn’t.

  I was going to sacrifice Billy for myself.

  On weak legs I stumbled to the couch and sank upon it. I lowered my head and heaved into sobs. Pete soon sat down beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders.

  “I don’t want to be on TV anymore, Pete.” My voice cracked and ran all over the place.

  “You don’t have to be.”

  “But Billy …”

  “You said your piece. You’ve done what you can.”

  If Pete only knew what I feared. The truth churned inside me, fighting to come out. Just be free of it, Delanie, tell him and be done with this.

  But once I told the truth I could never take it back. And my life as I knew it would be over. Then what would happen to Billy? With my integrity in the mud, no one would believe me on the witness stand. For once I had to see justice done. The false suspect cleared. The real killer brought to justice. Clara deserved that. So had my mother …

  I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. Sat bent over, staring at my knees.

  “Don’t you worry ’bout Dora Crenshaw, now.” Pete curled his gnarled fingers around the back of my neck.

  “It’s not just her. Lots of other people in town must feel the same way.”

  Pete grunted. “Partly out of convenience, I suppose. People have been scared to death that a killer’s runnin’ the streets. Now to think he’s in jail—that takes a big load off everyone’s mind.”

  My cell phone went off again.

  Throughout that morning it continued to ring. A few calls I answered. Most I didn’t, but those people left messages. Some encouraged me. Others said Melcher was right, and who was I to mess up an investigation?

  A second reporter came to my door, this one from another Lexington TV station, with cameraman in tow. Pete spotted the two outside and said he’d take care of it. I hid in my room like the coward I was and listened to him turn them away.

  Next came a call from Colleen at Grangers. “I’ve seen four reporters in here today, and I’ll bet you more are on the way.”

  Four?

  “They all want to know about the case, Delanie. And they all want to talk to you.”

  I sat at the kitchen table, trying to eat a late breakfast. “Did you tell them you’re my roommate?”

  “Sure. I imagined you’d want to talk to them just like you did yesterday.”

  My stomach felt sick. I pushed the food away. “Colleen. Please don’t do that again. Tell them nothing. I’m through talking to the media.”

  Apparently the reporters were keeping Colleen busy enough that she wasn’t spreading the news about my engagement. Not one person had mentioned it.

  In the next hour two more reporters showed up at the house. I began to panic. I wanted to escape—anywhere. But what if they spotted me and followed? And where could I go? As much as I wanted to run to Andy, I couldn’t bother him during his work hours.

  Next, Jack Grayson called. Reporters were outside his house, he said, taking pictures of his yard and The Bush. “They won’t leave us alone. I talked to the first two, but after that it gets old, you know?”

  “I’m so sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “Not your fault. Just wanted you to know what’s going on over here.”

  I clicked off the line and stared out the window, trembling. Clara’s death was horror enough. Then Billy’s arrest. Now this. Surely, the media were at the Crenshaw’s house as well. Would Dora go on camera declaring I was wrong? Would Redbud neighbors and friends start arguing publicly, this quiet little town turning into a cat fight as the world gawked?

  “I’m goin’ downtown.” Pete shuffled toward the garage. “Gonna see what’s happenin’ down there.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Text me.”

  He stopped at the door. “You be okay? Just don’t answer if someone comes knockin’.”

  I nodded.

  After Pete left I could do little but pace the house. I tried to pray, but God seemed to have moved even further out of reach now that I was engaged. The diamond ring on my finger burned. I’d pledged to give myself in honesty to a man who didn’t even know my real name. Who had no idea I could go to jail if law enforcement discovered what I had done just before arriving in Redbud. After already serving time for supposedly killing my mother. Andy didn’t deserve that kind of shock. He would be crushed.

  A chime sounded from my phone. It was a text from Pete. Three news vans on Brewer. More reporters at the police station.

  I stared at the words, knowing this wouldn’t stop. The media had been at my own trial. What if Billy went to trial—and cameras were allowed in the courtroom? I’d have to testify on TV.

  A shaking began in the pit of my belly. In my mind I heard Pete’s words from his grimmer railroad stories. During his engineering career he’d hit seven people on the tracks, and the memories still haunted him. “Takes a long time to stop a train when it’s barrelin’ along. If someone steps in front of it, there’s no savin’ ’em, no matter how hard you brake.

  I thrust a hand in my hair and begged God to save me. He wasn’t listening.

  I texted Pete back. Are you talking to them?

  Nope. Observing.

  Five minutes later he texted me again. It was just as I’d expected. Drove past the Crenshaws and saw the WTVQ news van. Dora and Dave were on their porch, talking to Barlow Watkins.

  No doubt they were setting the record “straight.”

  Around 11:30 Andy called. I answered with trepidation. “I hear there’s a lot going on in Redbud,” he said.

  I sat on the couch, wrung out. Pete still had not come home. “Reporters are everywhere. They’re trying to get to me. I keep turning them away.”

  “I think that’s the right decision, Del.”

  “Dora Crenshaw called me. She’s furious about what I said on TV.”

  Andy sighed. “I was afraid that would happen. You doing all right?”

  “Sure.” I fiddled with my ring.

  He hesitated, as if not believing me. “I told my parents about our engagement. Didn’t want it to get to them through someone else.”

  “I’ll bet your mother is thrilled.”

  “Delanie, come on.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve got to quit this negativity against my parents. Puts me in a very bad position.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just … a hard day. Even though you made me happy last night.”

  “Yeah. Know what you mean.”

  We fell silent.

  “All right, I need to go, Del. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I ended the call, dwelling on more negative thoughts of Andy’s mother. Phyllis would be so perfectly groomed at my wedding. She would do her best to smile. For the rest of my life cold Phyllis Bradshaw would be all I had for a mother. My own wouldn’t be there to see me marry the man of my dreams. Nor would I have a father to walk me down the aisle.

  Pete. He would do it.

  At noon, with butterflies in my belly, I turned on WTVQ news. Their lead segment featured Watkins, standing once again at the crime scene on Brewer. Then it flashed to his interview with Dora and Dave, both with tears in their eyes. “Two days ago we were looking forward to our daughter’s wedding in June,” Dora said. “Now we’re barely holding on, getting through each hour. Each minute. We don’t even know yet when we can have our daughter’s body for a funeral.” Her voice cracked. She turned away from the camera.

  Dave wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “We do
want to say thank you to the Redbud police for arresting the perpetrator of this horrible crime so quickly.”

  Watkins pulled the microphone to his own mouth. “What about the statement of Delanie Miller? She claims the person she saw hiding in the shadows the night of the murder isn’t Billy King.”

  Dave Crenshaw firmed his mouth. “She’s wrong.”

  My body tingled. The people in this town would end up hating me.

  How ironic. I’d gone to great lengths to hide my real identity in Redbud and guard the reputation I’d earned as Delanie Miller. Now townspeople were turning against me anyway.

  But I shouldn’t care, even now. I shouldn’t be worried about reporters. If I had any integrity at all I’d be driving to the county jail, trying to visit Billy. I’d keep standing up for him.

  What had I become? Where had my dreams of justice gone?

  The news story ended. I flipped to another local channel and caught the story again. At least I wasn’t part of the segment. But they showed my picture, naming me as a witness who insisted the man who’d been arrested was innocent.

  I flicked off the TV and bent over, arms at my waist. My bones felt like they were coming apart. That video of me and my picture would live forever on the Internet, long after the media had moved on to other stories. What if someone who’d known Laura Denton stumbled upon it?

  What if my aunt and uncle saw it? Pain and longing shot through me. It had been years since I’d so much as talked to them. I missed them.

  My phone rang. Bradshaw appeared on the ID. Andy’s mother.

  This was all I needed.

  The cell rang three times before I brought myself to answer. “Hello?”

  “Delanie, it’s Phyllis.” The tone sounded so … formal. “I wanted to tell you best wishes on your engagement.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You couldn’t get a better man, if I do say so myself.”

  “I agree.”

  A beat passed. My tongue felt like lead.

  “I couldn’t help but hear about your news appearance last night.” Phyllis’s voice dropped in tone. “I started getting calls right after the segment.”

  Of course. From her country club friends, wondering at the behavior of her son’s girlfriend. What would they say when they heard we were engaged?

  “Now that you’re joining our family, I would suggest that you refrain from discussing your opinions with the media. You never know how they’ll twist your story. And it’s always best to keep out of controversy.”

  Hadn’t I known she’d do this? My fingers gripped the phone, a dozen responses crowding my head. For Andy’s sake I pushed the clamoring ones away and laid hold of an obeisant, smoothing reply.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry I ever spoke to that reporter. I’ve told Andy I won’t do it again.”

  “All right then. Good. And I was so sorry to hear about Clara.”

  Such controlled empathy in her tone.

  “Thank you.”

  We ended the call, and I threw my phone across the couch.

  For the rest of that afternoon one hour blurred into another. At some point Pete returned. Then later, Nicole and Colleen. I hadn’t even thought about dinner. We ordered pizza. I managed to force down one piece. It was the most I’d eaten all day.

  At evening news time, like a moth to flame I sat on the couch and numbly watched as Pete flipped through channels. All local TV stations covered the story. This time Melcher made his own appearances, always declaring they “had their man.” Reporters pressed him for information on the evidence, but he would only say they were “gathering it, and there was plenty.”

  Plenty?

  But Melcher didn’t stop there. As for “Miss Miller’s assertions” that he had threatened to “haul her off to jail,” Melcher declared, they were “complete fabrication and totally unfounded.”

  The first time I heard the words, I gripped the arm of the couch, my limbs going cold.

  “That liar!” Pete shook his forefinger at the TV. “I’m not lettin’ him get away with this!”

  By the third time we listened to Melcher lie, all four of us were more than incensed.

  Someone from the Crenshaw family also appeared on each news show. First Clara’s parents, then her sister, Paula, followed by her Aunt Gretchen. In one way or another they accused me of interfering in the investigation. “Delanie was my sister’s good friend,” Paula said. “We were all together at the shower just before this happened. I don’t understand why she’s saying these things.”

  Maybe because they were true. But who would believe that now?

  The remaining pizza was growing cold on the coffee table as the last “Redbud Murder” news segment ended. None of us had eaten much, focused as we were on the screen. Nicole’s eyes kept flicking to me, as if pleading reassurance. What will happen to our home, now that you’ve gone and taken a stand against half the town?

  Pete muted the TV. For a moment we sat in silence, each of us stewing.

  “Did you hear from Chief Melcher today?” Colleen asked.

  “Not a word.”

  Nicole raised a shoulder. “He won’t threaten you again. For all he knows someone would hear him next time.”

  Pete grunted. “Somebody already did.”

  My gaze fell to the floor. Melcher may not be overtly threatening me, but it was clear I’d now made a serious enemy. He would rejoice to see me brought down.

  I closed my eyes and pictured him putting me in handcuffs …

  My phone rang. I checked the screen. Cheryl King. Exhaustion swept over me, trailed by guilt. What had I done all day to help her son?

  With a reluctant hand, I picked up the cell. “Hi, Cheryl.”

  “Delanie. Did you see?” She sounded terrified, desperate.

  A rubber band pulled tight around my chest. “What?”

  “My poor Billy’s picture is plastered on national TV! Now everyone in the country thinks he’s a murderer.” Cheryl’s voice broke in two.

  No, no, no.

  “And that interview you did yesterday with WTVQ? That was on there too, every word of it.”

  Dread flooded me. I buffed my forehead hard, trying to think. This couldn’t be true, Billy’s mom was just confused.

  “Are you sure, Cheryl? Where did you see it?”

  “On CNN!”

  April 2004 – March 2008

  Chapter 30

  When the doorbell rang at her aunt and uncle’s house, Laura ignored it. She’d been lying in bed, unable to gather the energy to do anything. Probably some salesman anyway.

  The bell sounded again.

  Laura sighed.

  Someone started banging on the door. Hard.

  Who in the world?

  When it didn’t stop, Laura pushed to her feet and trundled down the stairs.

  She swung back the door—and found herself facing a woman in a black jacket and pants. Her straight black hair glossed to her shoulders, blunt cut to perfection. Flawless skin. Oval face and eyes dark enough to laser right through a person. Barely controlled rage contorted the woman’s face.

  “It’s about time.” The coral lips sneered. “You must be the famous Laura Denton.”

  Laura shrank back. There was only one person this could be.

  “That’s right, I’m Tina. The woman your father walked all over. Dragged through the mud, chewed up and spit out. And now—cut out of his will.”

  Laura tried to close the door.

  Tina stuck her foot in the threshold. “Oh, no, you don’t, Miss Mommy-Killer. You’re going to listen to what I have to say.” She shoved her way into the foyer. Laura stumbled back.

  With great satisfaction Tina closed the door. Laura looked at her with frightened eyes.

  Tina raised a forefinger and pointed it at Laura. “You are not getting one penny of your father’s money, got that? It’s mine. I will fight you in court until the day I die. I will fight you until
you’ve got no strength left. If you have any to begin with.”

  Anger burst in Laura’s lungs. “That money’s not yours! It came from my mother.”

  “Who you killed, remember? Cold-blooded murdered her to get that money, and now you’re trying to get it again.”

  “I did not—”

  “Oh, save your breath, Laura.” Tina’s eyes narrowed. “I know you did it, as much as you tried to convince your poor father otherwise. And the courts know. They’ll always know. And guess what—you still can’t inherit that money. It may be coming from your father now, but he got it from your mother. And by law you can’t reap any rewards from your own crime.”

  Who did this woman think she was?

  “Get out.” Laura stalked around Tina and flung open the door.

  Tina smiled—the most evil smile Laura had ever seen. “Oh, I’ll leave, but that won’t help you any.” She stepped closer. “I’m a detective, remember? I can hound your life. I wouldn’t do one tiny thing wrong if I were you. Because I’ll be all over you.”

  Laura’s teeth clenched. “Get out.”

  Tina moved into the doorway. “Leave town, Laura. Don’t fight me on this. You’ll be sorry. And in the end—you’ll lose.”

  She threw Laura a final, taunting smile. “Have a good day.”

  Tina stepped out onto the porch. Laura slammed the door and locked it.

  Ten days later Laura received formal paperwork from the courts. Tina was suing her for her father’s estate.

  Chapter 31

  Laura tried to prepare herself emotionally to fight for her inheritance.

  With no money of her own in the meantime, she had to stay with her aunt and uncle. She wanted to pay for rent and food. Desperately she tried to find work, but no one would hire her. When filling out applications at first she left the lines asking about any felonies on her record blank. Only to be nearly hired—then summarily dismissed when the background checks came in. After that she told the truth, trying to explain she’d been wrongly convicted when asked for details. The looks on people’s faces when they learned the nature of her “crime” were more than degrading. After slinking out of office after office, Laura gave up.