Sidetracked-Kobo

by Brandilyn Collins

  Comprehension rocketed through her. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

  Judge Lang leaned in Laura’s direction and raised his forefinger. “Miss Denton, I have to say I found in your favor on the strict sense of the law. The plaintiff did not prove undue influence in this case. So I chose to uphold your father’s will. But I can’t say I’m happy about it. As a convicted murderer, you are indirectly inheriting from your own victim. I suggest you do nothing illegal from this day forward. Consider this your chance for a new beginning, one lived within the law.”

  The judge’s words pummeled Laura. She was a murderer. Always would be.

  Roger Weiner’s face hovered in her mind.

  Aunt Nicky put an arm around Laura as they left the courtroom. “Don’t worry about what the judge said. What matters is—you won.”

  Laura could feel no victory.

  Outside the courthouse, Tina stepped in front of Laura, eyes glittering. Aunt Nicky tried to turn Laura aside, but Tina pushed in front of them. “You’ll never see a dime of that money. I promised you that before, and I promise you again. Not. One Dime.”

  Laura could not sleep that night.

  Tina filed an immediate appeal. Once again the inheritance was on hold. Laura and her attorneys went before the three-judge panel on the Court of Appeals. By then she was on medication for depression, fighting thoughts of suicide. What did life matter anymore? Even God had gone silent.

  Her attorneys argued her side, and Tina-the-witch’s lawyers argued hers. The panel of judges interrupted with questions. When the hearing was over, again Laura had to await the decision. Weeks later it finally came through written papers. The Court of Appeals had upheld Judge Lang. The inheritance would go to Laura.

  The day they received the news, Laura’s aunt and uncle wanted to take her out to dinner to celebrate. Laura couldn’t do it. Surely as she sat in a restaurant, the neon sign of Murderer would still be seen by all. And once again Tina couldn’t leave Laura alone. She called a few days later. “You’ll pay for this.” Her voice sounded like steel. “There’s a God in heaven. There’s a judgment day for murderers. And when that day comes, He will make you pay.”

  Chapter 34

  On October 22, 2006, Laura received the balance of her inheritance after the attorney had been paid—over $6.7 million. The first thing she did with the money was to write a check to her aunt and uncle for half a million dollars. Aunt Nicky gasped when she saw the amount.

  “This is way too much! We haven’t spent anything near that on you.”

  Laura shook her head. “If anything, it’s too little. You’ve been my only support. My only family. You deserve it.”

  She needed to start her life over—which meant leaving the area. Too many memories in San Mateo. And Tina was still there. But it would be so hard to leave Aunt Nicky and Uncle Ted. They had become her second parents.

  Laura prayed a lot, asking for God’s help, His strength. Slowly she fought through her depression and was able to take a little less daily medication. She bought a new car—a reliable Toyota Corolla. And a laptop computer. She spent hours online looking at towns all over the country. She needed to go far away. Far from Tina Fulder and the many haunting memories.

  Laura worried about the majority of her money being tied up in stocks. She didn’t want to be giving out her new address to a bunch of companies. Detective Tina could easily track Laura down if she had a mind to.

  Before the end of the year Laura sold all the stocks and got into a cash position. She would take the tax hit and pay the IRS in 2007. She opened an offshore bank account, using her aunt and uncle’s address, keeping half a million in the U.S., scattered in various accounts.

  She’d decided on moving to the South, where people were known to be friendly.

  In late February Laura loaded up her car, hugged her aunt and uncle a tearful goodbye, and set out across the country.

  She landed in a suburb of Atlanta with about 20,000 residents. Not too big, not too small. Laura paid cash for a modest house (they were so cheap compared to California!). She filled the house with furniture. Found a church and tried to settle in. Met her neighbors, who were quick to welcome her to the neighborhood.

  Laura didn’t yet know what to do with her time. Transfer her college credits to a nearby university and finish school? But what to major in? Sometimes Laura could do nothing but sit around her house all day, still fighting the depression. She called her aunt and uncle often. But talking to them only increased her loneliness.

  After four months in her new home, Laura received a letter sent from San Mateo. She held it in her hands, staring at the writing, knowing it had not come from Aunt Nicky. Heart beating sideways, Laura opened the envelope. The one piece of paper contained a few lines, no signature.

  Think I wouldn’t find you, Laura?

  Remember what the judge said. Don’t you dare do anything wrong. If you do, I just might have new reason to appeal for all that money you stole from me.

  Laura dropped the paper. Her fingers burned.

  For the next week she did not leave her house. When she finally ventured outside she spotted her next-door neighbor in his driveway and managed a wave. He threw her a hard look and turned away. A few days later she had a similar experience with her neighbor on the other side. Two days after that a note was left on her doorstep.

  We know what you are. Leave this neighborhood now, before it’s too late. Your kind doesn’t belong here with our families.

  Laura stumbled to the couch and collapsed upon it. Hugging herself and rocking, she cried and cried. Tina had done this. Even now that woman could ruin her life.

  Laura had to move. She’d try to be more careful. Maybe next time Tina wouldn’t find her. She searched for new towns and ended up in Tennessee. This time she chose to rent a home until she found the right one to buy. On the rental application form she left the questions about any criminal convictions blank. She moved in and once again tried to settle. Met neighbors, found a church. Eventually sold the house in Georgia.

  After five months in her new place Laura received an eviction notice from her landlord. The terms of the lease were broken. Laura had a criminal record—a conviction for murder—that she’d failed to disclose. A detective in California had alerted the landlord to the truth.

  Laura left the house with only her clothes and her car. No way to move the furniture without leaving a trail. Besides, where would she move it? Wherever she went, Tina would find her.

  At the bank she withdrew ten thousand in cash.

  She drove aimlessly through southern states, staying at hotels under fictitious names, paying for everything with cash. She called her aunt and uncle but never told them where she was. What if their phone was bugged? Laura couldn’t trust a simple conversation anymore.

  Christmas 2007 came and went. Laura was alone. Even God seemed to have abandoned her.

  One evening in January 2008, in a hotel room in North Carolina, Laura stared at a bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills. She spilled them out on the bathroom counter. Counted them. She could do this. Should do this. It would be so easy to just go to sleep …

  She swallowed the first two pills—and then it hit her. If she died without a will, with most of her inheritance still intact, Tina would likely end up with all of it. What a final, utter victory for her nemesis.

  Laura flushed the rest of the pills down the toilet.

  When she awoke the next morning after twelve hours’ sleep, a new thought flamed in her mind. She would live. She would build a family someday. She would not let Tina or Roger Weiner win. What happened in the past would not define her future. She would embrace her aunt’s wise words and truly, completely “move on.”

  There was only one way to do that. Laura Denton had to disappear. Somehow she had to forge a fresh identity, someone Tina couldn’t find. Someone who did not carry the stigma of Murderer.

  Laura lay on the hotel bed, thinking about Judg
e Lang’s words: “Do nothing illegal from this day forward.” His ruling in her favor seemed so tenuous, even though upheld by an appeals court. Tina could be right. If Laura was ever caught doing something illegal, maybe her inheritance could be taken away from her. Tina and some sleazy attorney would surely think of some loophole in the law. Some way to lay claim to the money.

  Assuming a fake identity was certainly illegal. Especially when walking away from a felony.

  For two more days Laura considered her choice. She wrote the pros and cons on separate sheets of paper. Read and reread them before tearing the lists into pieces.

  How could she even think of doing this? She would be caught forever in a life of deceit. How could she ever pray then? How could she live as a Christian?

  Still the pull of a new, fresh start would not go away. And in the end it came down to this: she could not have any kind of meaningful life as long as Tina Fulder could find her. And Laura so wanted to live.

  But how to find a new identity? And how to take her money with her?

  Laura scoured “how to disappear” websites on her computer. Read other sites about moving money offshore in a way it couldn’t be traced. She took pages of notes, developed a plan. Somewhere along the way she pushed down all thoughts of living in deceit. This wasn’t about lying. This was about self preservation.

  Systematically Laura began to implement the steps of her plan.

  She called her aunt and uncle, throat squeezed tight, and thanked them again for all they’d done for her. Laura knew she could not contact them again. That phone call hurt almost more than she could bear.

  After that, Laura settled deep into herself, blocking out emotion, blocking out the past. Just. Looking. Forward.

  On the Internet she found someone who would sell her a new identity, complete with a birth certificate and social security number. The man, identified only as “Bonn”, assured her the social security number was from someone who was dead. Who’d been born the same year she had—and had a clean record.

  Laura hoped she could believe him.

  She chose the name Delanie Anne Miller and printed it on the birth certificate. Bonn filled out the rest and signed the document. Her social security number began with 372. “Which means you were born in Michigan,” Bonn said. “Remember that.”

  She applied for a drivers license from North Carolina under her new name.

  Now to take care of her money.

  In a convoluted series of steps, Laura added Delanie Miller to her offshore account, using her aunt and uncle’s address. Then she took off her real name. When she settled in her new life, she would change the address for Delanie. Then she would move all the money from that bank to another, severing all banking ties to her old name. As for her money still in the U.S. Laura broke it into smaller accounts, slowly withdrawing the funds under $5000 at a time. She ended up with a duffel bag full of bills. If anyone found it, they’d think she’d robbed a bank.

  Laura sold her car for cash. Bought a new one using the name Delanie—again with cash.

  After months of living in hotels, of cold calculation and the sheer will to survive, Laura’s break with her old life was complete. By the summer of 2008 Laura Denton, murderer, no longer existed. She was now Delanie Anne Miller, with a clean record and a life to live. A family to build. Love to give. She would live quietly in some small town. Help others. Find happiness once again.

  Laura’s nightmares had finally ended. Delanie’s dreams had just begun.

  APRIL 2013

  Chapter 35

  Friday night after hearing my interview had hit CNN, I did not sleep.

  The next morning I couldn’t get out of bed. I’d barely eaten since Clara’s murder Wednesday evening. With little food and little rest, the blood in my veins felt like water. And I did not know how to get through the day.

  Billy King’s face hovered in my mind. I pictured him sitting in jail. Such a gentle young man. Little more than a kid, really. How could he ever stand up for himself against other inmates? Would authorities put him in a solitary cell for his own protection?

  And he was facing years of this.

  Meanwhile what was I doing? Certainly not pursuing justice for Billy and Clara. No, I was worrying about myself. Thoughts of calling off the engagement pounded me. I should tell Andy I couldn’t go through with it right now. But he’d want to know why. And how long to wait? When would the threat of my being discovered end? At any time—a month from now, a year, five years—someone from my past could see me on a news video. If that someone was Tina, she wouldn’t let it rest. She’d hunt me down just to ruin me.

  I was supposed to be with Andy today. He’d called Friday night shortly after I talked to Cheryl. “Let’s get out of town tomorrow, Del. Go for a long drive. Anything to leave Redbud for a while.”

  I didn’t know how to say no, and I didn’t want to say yes. I needed to get away, but the fear within me had risen like a rogue tide. Surely I would drown in it. My face was on national TV. Seemed like everyone in the California Bay Area watched CNN. And when one cable station picked up a local story, the others were sure to follow.

  I told Andy about the CNN story, which he was not happy about. “Can you please call me back in the morning about going somewhere, Andy? I just can’t think straight right now.”

  “Okay. Try to get some sleep.”

  Right.

  True to his word, Andy called Saturday morning. I was still in bed. Not at all ready to talk to him. I tried to keep the anxiety from my tone as I answered.

  “Good morning, lovely lady.”

  Andy’s sweetness brought tears to my eyes. What was I doing to this man? “Hi.”

  “I just talked to my mother. She told me she called you last night. You didn’t tell me.”

  Oh, great. “It … wasn’t a very pleasant conversation.”

  “So I gathered. I was appalled at what she said. I’m so sorry.”

  I clutched the bedcovers. “Guess she thought she was helping.”

  “She wasn’t.”

  No.

  Silence played out.

  “I don’t oppose my mother very often. Southern upbringing, you know. But I did ask her to please not talk to you that way again.”

  For Andy, that was a lot. He was very close to his mother. “Thank you.”

  Another pause.

  “So, listen.” Andy’s tone lightened. “You ready to be picked up in an hour?”

  I winced. “I’m still in bed.”

  “Well, get up. I’m taking you out of here. We’ll pick a Kentucky back road and see where it goes. Stop at some little dive in a tiny town for lunch. We’ll talk about you and me. Set a date for our wedding.”

  Our wedding. I couldn’t think of it. How would I ever walk down the aisle, weighted as I was with all my lies?

  “I’m not taking no for an answer, Del. You need to get out of town.”

  Andy was right. What would I do here if I didn’t go? Hide when another reporter came to the door? Jump every time my cell rang? “Okay. I think I need more than an hour, though.”

  “Ninety minutes then. I’ll see you at 9:45.”

  Somehow I managed to pull myself from bed. Dread hung over me, ran through me. My insides were on a constant low tremble. This could not continue. I would break apart.

  In the shower I let hot water run over me, trying to clear my head. I told myself—unconvincingly—I would get through this. Some way. I’d lived through so much to get where I was today. Had fought long and hard. I couldn’t give up now. People needed me. Andy. Billy. My “family” here.

  I’d never seen justice done for my mother’s death. How could I live with myself if I did not see it for Clara? And if I didn’t pursue it, who would?

  I pulled on jeans and a pair of blue flats. A blue top.

  Colleen was in the kitchen, Nicole apparently still in bed. Pete was in his room as well. As I passed his room I could hear the drone o
f his voice recounting some story for his memoirs. Colleen and I had little to say to each other, deep in our thoughts. I forced down an egg and piece of toast. A mug of strong coffee pushed a little more resolve into me. I had to survive this, what other choice did I have?

  Andy came to the door, dressed in jeans and a red Polo shirt. He looked wonderful. We walked outside to a beautiful, sunny day. It did not chase my sense of dread away. Andy opened my car door for me. I threw him a smile. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t know yet. When we feel the urge to follow a road, we’ll do it.”

  Andy pulled away from the curb and took side streets out of Redbud, clearly avoiding downtown. Had he seen reporters there on his way over?

  I didn’t want to know the answer to that.

  And then my dread became reality.

  Andy asked me something, and to this day I can’t remember what it was. Some casual question. One of those moments that should have been ordinary—were it not for the fact that it immediately preceded the rest of my very changed life.

  From my purse my cell phone chimed. I picked it up to read the text, thinking it was Pete. Still, an inner voice said, “Don’t look at it now.” I hesitated, my finger hovering over the message icon. Then tapped it.

  I did not recognize the number. But the message froze my limbs.

  Look who I found. Laura Denton. --Tina.

  Chapter 36

  My eyes glued to the words of the text. Inside me the shaking grew stronger. On some other plane I watched my finger turn off my phone. I placed the cell in my purse and eased back in my seat. A blizzard rammed my brain, my thoughts white and thick.

  “Everything all right?” Andy glanced at me.

  “Yes.”

  Was that my mouth moving?

  My memory of the following hours is woven in haze.

  Andy and I drove southeast on back roads, through Harrodsburg and Danville. Then east toward Richmond. We stopped in an old diner in Lancaster. The soup I ordered tasted like paste. I talked. I answered Andy’s questions and even started conversations of my own. Somehow I held it together. But I felt outside my own body, as though I hovered at the ceiling and watched myself go through the motions.