She Belongs to Me

by Carmen DeSousa

  Jordan gripped the table in an effort to remain seated. He wanted to pummel the man but was also irritated with Jaynee. For one, not telling him about her interaction with him and two….how many times had he told her to close those damn blinds? It didn’t matter that they lived in the country; perverts were everywhere. All they needed was an invitation as simple as an open window to delude them into thinking a woman was interested.

  Williams eyed Jordan and continued, “According to Brian, Jaynee was on the phone and then a woman appeared on the porch and they talked awhile. He didn’t hear anything they said and actually dozed off but said he awoke the same way you did, when he heard the gunshot. Of course, we already knew Jaynee had spoken with someone—your secretary Lorraine. Jaynee had received a text from her and had returned her call. We investigated, but her account checked out. She drove you home earlier in the evening and just wanted to confirm you were okay. Lorraine had no motive to hurt Jaynee, so we didn’t pursue her as a suspect.

  Jordan rolled his eyes. “So, he didn’t see a woman shoot Jaynee?” He shoved his chair back from the table.

  “No,” Brian interjected. “But who else could have, she was the only person there. I didn’t hurt her, and you certainly weren’t there to protect her.”

  Jordan jumped up from his seat. It took everything he had not to punch Brian again. “Jaynee shot herself.” His entire body seethed at this man’s impudence. He’d sent someone to hurt her once, and he had the nerve to question him.

  Brian chewed his bottom lip and shook his head. “I don’t believe it. When I talked to her earlier, she told me how happily married she was.” Brian said the words bitterly, as he stared at Jordan in total disbelief.

  Jordan was through; this conversation was getting him nowhere. It was obvious by Brian’s reactions; he hadn’t caused Jaynee’s shooting, so he needed to find out who did. “I didn’t say she did it purposefully, just that it was by her own hand, and I need to get to the reasons why.” He looked at the detectives. The detectives didn’t need him; they’d already gotten his statement the night Jaynee was shot. “If you guys don’t have anything for me, I’ll call you when my wife wakes up. I’m finished here.” Jordan opened the door. “I need to see my wife.”

  Jordan had to catch his breath before walking into Jaynee’s room; he felt lightheaded.

  He hadn’t eaten anything today but had already been in a fight, an interview with a suspect and had to cope with the knowledge his wife had kept something from him. Not to mention there still wasn’t a hundred percent chance she would recover. He gripped the outside of the doorjamb to stabilize himself.

  Jaynee was motionless. She had only spoken twice and only to him. He didn’t want to leave, but he needed to do something.

  If Lorraine had been even remotely responsible, he would expose the truth. And if she was guilty, he’d arrest her himself. Nothing in him could perceive such an outcome. Lorraine couldn’t have hurt Jaynee. She wouldn’t, not if she really cared about him, and somehow he always knew she did, just not to the extent of murder. It wasn’t possible.

  Jordan leaned over Jaynee, kissing her forehead. His mother started to stand to let him sit, but he motioned for her to stay. “I have to handle something else.” He saw Jaynee’s heartbeat increase. She knew he was here, and it made her heart race. Was that a good thing? Had she been frightened of Brian? Or, had she been calling out for him? The suggestion drove him insane. Brian admitted Jaynee said, ‘She was happily married’. Why would he repeat her statement when the notion was repulsive to him? He could hear the mocking in his voice, even as he uttered the words.

  He lowered his mouth to her ear. “I love you, Jaynee,” he whispered, watching the monitor, noticing her pulse increase. This was good; she loved him too. Despite the confusion of the last couple of months, she still loved him.

  Jordan rested his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Mom, I need to go somewhere. I’ll be gone a couple hours. Will you be okay?”

  Pat looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What if she wakes again?” She clearly struggled with the idea he would leave Jaynee’s side again. He hadn’t moved in over three days and now when she might wakeup, he was leaving?

  “I know, Mom, but I have to handle something. It’s important, but I’ll rush.”

  “Jordan, what aren’t you telling me, baby?”

  “I can’t discuss it.” He walked out the door. The faster he could get there the better. He still didn’t have his mobile. It died the night of the accident, and he hadn’t thought to ask anyone to bring the phone and charger to the hospital.

  Picking up the courtesy phone, he dialed the number; the line connected before the first ring ended.

  “We need to talk,” Jordan said.

  “I know. Meet me at the Coffee House. I need to return home first. But by the time I backtrack to my residence and head back to the restaurant, you should have arrived.”

  Jordan hung up without a response.

  He darted down the stairs. He wouldn’t go to the restaurant; he would head straight to the house. He could probably arrive faster if he drove as he did when he was responding to a call. He should have asked to borrow the detective’s car, but they would ask too many questions.

  If a cop attempted to pull him over, they’d just have to follow him, which might not be a bad thing.

  ***

  From down the street, he watched Lorraine pull out of the construction trailer’s driveway.

  He’d follow her. He needed to stop her before she told anyone what had happened the night Jaynee was shot. He knew she wouldn’t have wanted to admit she was with Jaynee the night of the shooting, admit that she too wished Jaynee were dead, as he did. She was probably hoping Jaynee would die, and then she would provide comfort. He watched as she made her turn away from town, heading toward her house.

  He kept a safe distance, even though he could tell she wasn’t paying attention. Everything would work out perfect. He’d already decided how she would die, and she was playing directly into his hand.

  Who would suspect foul play in this type of demise? It was one of the easiest ways people committed suicide. He thought about it himself when everything looked hopeless, until he decided what needed to be done instead.

  He had what he needed in his vehicle. They were all normal items for him to have in his possession. Whenever they did a lot of sanding or painting on a jobsite, he would wear the mask.

  He watched as Lorraine pulled onto her driveway, and the garage door opened. She’d left the interior garage door unlocked, so she could enter without a key. She didn’t pull into the garage. What a shame, he’d have to assist her.

  Parking his vehicle on the street, he grabbed the mask. He’d already donned his gloves. He approached her garage, thankful she’d left the door open and the car running as if she’d be right back out.

  He jumped into the car and pulled it forward then pushed the remote to close the garage door. She’d be out in a minute, and instead of being cautious, she’d be curious, wondering if she pulled into the garage. Surprise would be on his side.

  Lorraine stepped through the door cautiously, glancing around in confusion, but as suspected, she must’ve decided she was losing her mind. She stepped inside her car, and as she started to push the garage door opener, he grabbed her from behind the seat, clamping down hard on her arms and then lifting the cloth to her face. It only took a second, and she was out. He lowered the windows in the car, grabbed the folder she’d placed on the passenger seat and then stepped out after pushing the garage door button again until it rose halfway then pushed it once more so it would close as he raced underneath it.

  Perfect. It would surface that she was the one with Jaynee Friday night, and that she was distraught. Nobody would doubt her decision to commit suicide.

  Now he needed to return to the hospital and finish what he started.

  ***

  He sat in a corner booth staring at the headline.

  Wife of Charlotte-Meck d
etective found shot Saturday morning.

  He turned to the local section to read the article, skipping through all the mumbo-jumbo, reading only the facts.

  Wife of Nine-year Charlotte-Meck detective Jordan Monroe was found shot in their Stanfield home early Saturday morning. Detective Monroe, a highly-decorated officer recognized for saving lives when a warrant for the arrest of a habitual criminal went awry earlier this year, discovered his wife of five years, Jaynee Monroe, unconscious in their home from a gunshot wound to the head...There are no reports of foul play at this time.

  He needed to see her. Folding the paper, he left a tip on the table and headed toward the hospital.

  ***

  Jordan made it to Lorraine’s house quickly. What should have taken forty-five minutes, took less than thirty as he ignored every traffic light and drove as fast as traffic would allow and not one cop.

  He pulled onto Lorraine’s driveway. Had she come and gone already? He didn’t think it was possible. He calculated the time it would have taken her to drive from the office to her house. He didn’t think she would have been able to come and go. If she had, he would have seen her leaving; he’d been watching the entire way.

  He stepped out of his vehicle, walked to the entrance and rang the bell. He waited, but there was no answer. He wished he had his cell phone, what a time not to have it. He knocked on the door, practically beating it down, nothing. He started to walk back to his car but heard something from the garage. Was her car running?

  “Oh, God…NO!” He reached for the handle, struggling to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. The entrance was useless; he’d built this house. The front door was steel with a topnotch deadbolt. But the rear of the house—the patio doors.

  He picked up a rock as he rounded the side of the house, hoping she had set the alarm. He smashed the rock through the windowpane, reached in and unlocked the door. The alarm sounded instantly. He raced across the kitchen, already inhaling the fumes saturating the air. He opened the door and felt to the side for the garage door opener, pushing it once to allow fresh air inside.

  Jordan skipped the steps, bounding for the driver’s door, pulling Lorraine out in seconds. She was breathing, but barely. How could this be happening? Twice in three days, he was holding one of the women closest in his life, in fear of their death. He laid her on the ground and returned to the car; he needed her phone.

  This could not be a coincidence; something was going on. Jaynee had said Lorraine’s name, but not in a terrified manner, more as though she needed something from her. And then Lorraine knew they needed to talk; she sounded apprehensive about seeing him.

  He could hear sirens; he didn’t have to call 911. When the instant alarm went off, the security company would have notified the police. Lorraine would have a considerable headache, but she would live.

  He dialed his mom’s cell phone. It rang several times before she answered; it was probably at the bottom of her purse.

  “Mom,” he said frantically. “How’s Jaynee? Did she wakeup?”

  “Not when I was in there, she—”

  Jordan cut her off. “What do you mean? Where are you now?” he asked furious.

  “Jordan, it’s fine. I didn’t leave her alone. But I needed to get something to eat. I’ve been trapped there all morning while you’ve been running around.”

  “Who’s with her, Mom?” he demanded.

  “John showed up to see how she was, said he’d watch over her while I took a break. I don’t know

  why—”

  Jordan didn’t know why either but suddenly he knew something wasn’t right. Lorraine was no accident. Jaynee’s shooting wasn’t an accident. And John had connections to both Jaynee and Lorraine.

  “Mom, go to the waiting area now.” He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but it was his only option. “Do you see a tall surfer-looking kind of guy, about 6’4, longer sandy-blond hair?”

  “There’s one fellow who looks something like that.”

  “Is he wearing a black jacket and black jeans?”

  “Uh, yeah…”

  “Give him your phone.”

  “You want me to do what?” she shrieked.

  “Mom, trust me. His name is Brian. Give him your phone.”

  Jordan could hear her approach the man asking if his name was Brian. He must have nodded, because he couldn’t hear a response. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but if it meant Jaynee’s life, he could swallow his pride. Brian may be a lot of things, but it was clear from his tormented face, he really wasn’t there to hurt Jaynee. And right now, an outsider was all he could trust.

  “Hello?” he heard Brian’s tentative tone filled with questions. From all his stalking, he certainly knew Pat was his mother, but Jordan clearly caught him off-guard.

  “Brian, it’s Jordan. Listen, something is going on. I think Jaynee may be in danger. You need to go up with my mother, and make sure no one else is allowed in with Jaynee.”

  “Dude…You want me to see your wife?” he asked bemused.

  “No, I want you to protect her. I think you’re right; she may be in danger. Don’t let anyone other than you and Pat in Jaynee’s room. Do you hear me?”

  “Yeah, man, I hear you. Not sure I understand…but sure.” He sounded excited by the prospect, and Jordan was suddenly nervous, but he had to trust his instincts. Brian didn’t hurt Jaynee, and he was confident Pat wouldn’t let him touch her.

  “Brian, there’s a man in there now; he’s a cop too, and I want him out.”

  “You want me to force a cop out, are you fu—freaking crazy?”

  “Pat will explain, just support her. They won’t allow more than two people in her room, so tell them you’re her brother.”

  Jordan disconnected the phone. The police and medics had arrived. He’d have to explain and get out of there fast.

  Brian relayed the conversation to Pat as Jordan explained, leaving out the ‘in danger’ part. He was pretty sure she didn’t know about what was happening.

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Brian. Jaynee’s brother.”

  “But, I thought—”

  “I’m her stepbrother. Listen, Pat, we don’t have much time. You and I need to go to her room, and you have to tell that John guy to leave, so I can see my sister.”

  63

  Carmen DeSousa

  Chapter Thirty-One

  John sat down next to Jaynee as soon as Pat exited the room.

  “Hi, Jaynee, it’s me John.” He waited for a response to his voice; there wasn’t any so he continued. He glanced over his shoulder several times, figuring Pat would be a while, but he didn’t want her to walk in on him. “It’s going to be okay; everything will be better very soon.”

  He sat for a second, not sure what to say or do; this could be his only chance. “You know something, Jaynee, I loved you from the second I saw you. When I saw you walking down the aisle, I imagined you were walking toward me. Then, when I held you when we danced, I imagined it was our first dance. Everything has always worked out for Jordan, and then he found you.”

  John stared at her face; even in a halfway comatose state, she was beautiful. “I insinuated to Jordan you were cheating, but I knew you weren’t. You’re too wonderful. You would never leave him, would you?”

  John saw Jaynee’s eyes flicker open, but what he saw terrified him. She was looking at him in fear. Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked as if she were going to scream.

  Jaynee stirred at the sound of a new voice.

  Who was speaking? It wasn’t Jordan. The moment she made visual contact, the conversation with Lorraine rushed to her conscious. She stared up in trepidation. John was sitting beside her. Where was Jordan?

  John’s eyes widened and his hand moved to her face. “Jaynee, ’S okay there’s no reason to be alarmed; I would never hurt you.”

  She tried to move, but it felt as if something held her strapped to the bed. Tears filled her eyes. “
Where’s Jordan?” She struggled to get the words out, they sounded like gibberish even in her own ears. She tried to scream but nothing surfaced. Was John here to murder her?

  Lorraine had told her she was in fear for her life. That someone from the company may be trying to murder her and Jordan. Someone had approached her on the porch. She thought it was Lorraine returning, but then she felt the strong arm circle her neck. When she tried to escape, the gun must have discharged. Oh, God, what happened? She was in the hospital, her head hurt. Had she shot herself?

  Jaynee heard someone else enter the room but couldn’t turn her head to see who it was.

  “You’ve upset her, John, you should leave. I’ll take over watching her.” It was another man’s voice. Everything inside her felt clouded, she couldn’t remember who the voice belonged to, but it sounded familiar.

  John made eye contact with her again, his eyes pleaded with her as if she should understand something. “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “Oh, didn’t you?” the other voice sneered, suddenly cold and callous. “Leave. I’ll stay with her until Jordan returns.”

  Jaynee couldn’t see around John, and she felt herself slipping away again. God, please help me, she thought as the room grew dark again.

  John stood up with one fleeting look at Jaynee. He hadn’t meant to frighten her, he didn’t even think she’d heard him, but she did appear panicky.

  He hoped this wouldn’t get back to Jordan; he would definitely despise him. It’s not as if he would have ever propositioned her. He knew how Jordan felt about her. But he couldn’t resist telling her when he didn’t think she’d hear. He just needed to get everything off his chest. He always felt so uncomfortable when she was around, as though she could interpret his feelings.

  John headed for the elevator but noticed it was still on the ground floor, so he opted for the stairs instead. Ashamed, his head fell low as he descended the steps.