The Crazy One
Rebecca Markus
Copyright 2018
b joy publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used
or reproduced without permission of the publisher.
All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to real
people is purely coincidental and/or unfortunate.
Markus, Rebecca J
The Crazy One/ Rebecca Markus
www.rjmarkus.com
Printed in the United States of America
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
www.gobookcoverdesign.com
for Christine, Julie, Michelle and Natalie
CHAPTER ONE
Denver, Colorado – Present
Her demeanor seemed to be in contrast to the violent acts that put her in this prison. She didn’t appear to be unhinged but seemed like a sweet lady. Not much to look at. She was short, plump, and had dark, frizzy hair. But her smile was pleasant. She sat with her hands clasped on the table between them.
Elijah Rhee, a mildly successful true crime author, sat across the table from Lucy at the Denver Women’s Correctional Facility. Two guards were stationed in the noisy room to make sure the inmates and their guests behaved themselves. Elijah had requested this meeting with the hope that Lucy’s story would bring him the literary achievement that had so far eluded him.
"True crime is a hot seller," he told her. "People want to know the dirty details. They want to hear it from your point of view."
"I don't know if I have anything interesting to tell." She spoke in a calm and steady voice, loud enough to be heard over the other people in the room. "I told the court and I told the media. What else do they want to know?"
"They want to know why. They want to see it through your eyes. I can help you tell your side of it. Can you tell me what lead to your obsession with Joel Ruskin in the first place?"
"My obsession with Joel? That's a weird way to put it."
Elijah noticed an almost imperceptible rocking motion between her arms. One elbow pressed into the table. Then the other. This happened a few times on each side until she was still again. He dismissed it and continued his careful questioning.
"How did it all start, Lucy? Why Joel? Were there others?"
Her eyes fluttered, and she shook her head.
"Other what?"
He sucked in a breath and let it out audibly. It would not help to let her get to him. This wasn’t the first guilty party he’d interviewed for a book. Most of the people he’d talked to in places like this would at least tell him their twisted version of their story. But this lady was giving him nothing. Why?
Maybe it was the way he looked. People had told him before that he had a serious face. It was because he was constantly analyzing things. Since he was a boy he’d wanted to know more about things. Whatever he learned in history class was incomplete. He needed to know what happened next. That’s how he’d ended up as a crime writer. Nothing satisfied him more than finding the truth under the madness.
He tried to soften his expression to gain her trust. First, he relaxed his forehead, and then his mouth. When he spoke again, he kept his voice level.
"Were there other celebrities you had your eye on?"
Lucy shook her head again. She looked away from him and began to watch a table across the room. He thought for sure he had lost her. For a long time she was quiet, thinking, until her silence was interrupted by another inmate who had entered the room.
"Hey, Crazy Laura," the woman shouted as she approached. She stopped behind Lucy with her hands on her hips. "You finally got a friend, huh?"
Lucy didn’t acknowledge the other inmate. She tucked her lips between her teeth and bowed her head to the table. Within seconds a guard had crossed the room and put her hand on the woman’s shoulder.
"Keep moving, Brown," she commanded.
Brown smirked in Elijah’s direction and then took her seat opposite a man and two young children. Elijah looked back at Lucy who still had her head down and was tugging forcefully on her earlobes until they were fire red.
"Lucy?" He ducked his head in an attempt to make eye contact. If he couldn’t get her back, he couldn’t get her story.
"I don’t know why they keep me here." It wasn’t clear if she was mumbling to him or to the table. "The women here are always yelling. They call me Crazy Laura all the time." She finally looked at him. Her eyes were glossy with emerging tears. "My name’s not even Laura."
"Does anyone visit you?"
"My mom and dad." She smiled. "And sometimes Joel."
"Joel?" He tried to keep the shock out of his voice. There was no way this was true.
Lucy caught his skepticism. She cocked her head and pursed her lips.
"Sometimes we go out." She took interest in the scuff marks on the table in front of her, tracing them with her stubby index finger.
"You go out of the prison?" He had to be careful with his questioning. If she felt he was mocking her she would shut down and he’d never learn the truth. But he didn’t appreciate being made a fool.
"He takes me away from here." She looked toward the high windows at the far end of the room. "He’s trying to find a way that we can be together."
Elijah scowled. He let out a frustrated breath again. Visitation was almost over and he didn’t have time for games.
"I’m here to learn the truth," he reminded her.
She looked back at him, her face softening in the process. He wouldn’t have been surprised if her head spun around like the girl in The Exorcist.
Sitting up straight, she spoke slowly.
"You want to know how I met Joel?"
Yes. For Pete’s sake, yes.
"Well, how you met him, how all this happened," he prompted.
She didn’t answer. Instead she seemed to shut down. It was as if an invisible wall went up between them and she wasn’t seeing him anymore.
He conceded to the fact that she wasn’t going to tell him anything in this setting. Luckily, he’d planned for that. He pulled a notebook from his bag. No spiral. Prison-approved.
"Here." He placed the notebook between them. "You can write it down for me." It’s not like you don’t have time. "Tell me everything from the beginning. What got you interested in him? Why was he so special that you would do all this? You can write it like a memoir. I'll polish up your words and we'll make a bestseller. When you get out of here you'll be a rich woman. And famous."
"I'm already famous." She didn’t blink. It wasn’t a joke.
Elijah wondered if she’d been reaching for notoriety all along. Had she done all of this for attention? Was she actively trying to be the next John Hinckley, the next Dawnette Knight? Maybe so. Maybe she’d gotten exactly what she’d been after. It was obvious the best way to win her over was to feed her delusion.
Elijah grinned. He patted the notebook and leaned closer to her.
"Yes, you are."
CHAPTER TWO
Omaha, Nebraska – 2015
Lucy opened her laptop on the store counter. She was aware of the stream of people passing in the mall hallway. They were a blur of moving bodies. She was alone in the store.
She pulled up a Beau Castle video on YouTube. The music began and she stepped into a fantasy world in which she was dating the international rock star.
They were dancing in a bar. All eyes were watching them. Beau’s hand slipped under her shirt and pressed against the small of her back. The roughness of it rested there against her skin. It sent fire through her body. If only he would lean down and kiss her. If only he would hold her tighter.
The swaying and the drinks and the music—they were all clouding Lucy’s mind. She shouldn’t be letting herself feel this way. If
she could think straight she would realize this was an impossible relationship.
He was funny and caring and, of course, incredibly sexy. There wasn’t a street he could walk down where he wouldn’t be recognized. Women everywhere wanted to sleep with him. Plenty of them had. But right now, in this moment, he belonged only to her.
He leaned down and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose.
"You’re so good for me, baby."
He put his other arm around her and looked into her eyes. His were blue. She gazed into them as her hands roamed over his tattooed biceps.
"I’ll be good to you, honey."
His smile melted her knees. She punched a button and stepped back from the counter. She stared at his frozen features. He was paused with that beckoning expression. She knew every shadow and line on his face from months of study.
"I know you will." She said it out loud. Nobody was around to hear.
There was little chance of any passerby disturbing her fantasy. Even casual browsers rarely stepped into Gobo's, a small store that sold framed prints of varying sizes. She'd been working in her Uncle Gordon’s store since she was in high school. It was the only job she'd ever had, and she was coming up on her eighth anniversary. Eight years of watching mall walkers and teenagers who rarely gave her even a side glance.
She hit the play button on the laptop again.
"So stop me guessing now and, baby, please come here." Beau delivered this line with intense emotion, his hands clenched in fists. She paused the screen again. This was her favorite part of his new video; the part that cut away from the music and showed Beau standing alone on a lighted stage, speaking the chorus. She dragged the line on the video and pushed play again.
"Baby, please come here."
His eyes called to her, making her heart race. She ached for him. He should be saying these things to her and only her. Someday he would. They had a connection through space and time.
She closed her eyes and listened to his words. He kissed her again, deeper this time. She tilted her head and lifted her chin.
"Baby, please come here."
Her hands grasped the air in front of her, feeling for his invisible arms. He was almost there with her. It was almost real. With her eyes closed maybe she could conjure the actual Beau Castle and he would materialize there in her waiting arms.
"What are you doing?"
A female voice shattered her concentration. Lucy’s eyes popped open and she stared at her coworker standing in the doorway. Her chest heaved with the panic of being caught. She reached for the keyboard to stop the music.
"That was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen you do." Joni removed her leather jacket as she approached the counter. She flung it into the corner and then took a seat on the stool. "Honestly, you do some weird shit sometimes. I thought you were having some kind of standing seizure."
Lucy packed the laptop back into her bag. Her face was flaming. Joni was younger and prettier. She wasn’t awkward. She had friends and went on dates. She probably never had to create a fantasy life to make up for a sad real one.
"Do you ever listen to anything other than Beau Castle?" Joni asked.
"I like it."
The credit card reader had been bumped and the top was no longer flush with the counter’s edge. Lucy adjusted it, running her finger along the back of the plastic base to make sure it was even.
Joni shifted on the stool and adjusted her tight shirt. She clicked her tongue. "I should have got coffee on my way in. I’m so tired. There's a freaking street light across from my bedroom window. It's literally like the sun and I can't sleep. I need some dark curtains or something."
"You should get a sleep mask." Lucy was glad for the change of subject. She liked the opportunity to give advice. As the older friend, wasn’t that her job? "Victoria's Secret has pink satin ones."
Joni waved her hand above her head. "I don't do sleep masks. I used to have one. It had Velcro on the back. I kept it next to my bed. Then a spider crawled onto the Velcro and got its legs stuck in the loops and it died there and crusted up like they do. Now I can never ever, ever..." She froze in place a full three seconds, then continued, "...ever have a sleep mask ever again."
Lucy laughed. "Seriously?"
"For real. Just seeing a sleep mask makes me think of dead spiders. Literally."
Joni had a story for every situation. Because her life was full of action. Lucy’s was made up of daydreams.
Lucy began counting the cash in the drawer even though she knew it hadn't changed in the six hours she'd been there. Even if she'd made a sale, nobody paid with cash anymore. But if she didn’t count she would be haunted by the thought of it for the rest of the day. She printed the register report and slipped it into the slot in the drawer.
Her left index finger pressed into the corner of the drawer, leaving a slight indentation for mere seconds. The feeling lingered and before she could step away she needed to press her right index finger against the opposite corner to even out the sensation. "The Evens", as she called it, was a nervous habit she'd developed in middle school. She'd gotten it under control for the most part, but when she was uneasy The Evens came creeping back.
This time was because of Joni. She was the kind of girl Lucy wished she could be. Her long, black hair was so shiny it appeared to reflect the overhead lights of the store. Her perpetually tan skin was flawless, and she had a natural talent with makeup, something Lucy had never gotten the hang of.
In school, Lucy never could have been friends with someone like Joni. The pretty girls only ever saw her as someone to avoid and to pity. Not even her parents’ money could elevate her from untouchable status. But here in the store there was no one else around to judge Joni for being nice to her.
What was it like to be pretty, someone who grabbed people's attention without even trying? What would it feel like to walk down the street and have everyone's eyes on her? These thoughts nagged at her. And so, she was often flustered when Joni was around, which made her feel the need to keep everything under control; to keep everything even.
After a few presses on the drawer corner with alternating index fingers, both sides finally felt even, and she could go. On her way out, she waved to Leron at the baseball hat store next to Gobo's. He saluted her half-heartedly and went back to staring at his smartphone.
She exited through the hallway behind some stores and out to the parking lot. Her step quickened as she neared her car at the back of the lot. Tonight had been on her mind for days. It was date night and she was giddy with anticipation. As she drove her mind was only on Beau. He would be there waiting for her when she got home.
CHAPTER THREE
Within fifteen minutes she was in her apartment. It was a third floor studio accessed by an elevator and a long hallway straight out of The Shining. The walls and carpet were beige. There was one window and a sliding glass door out to the balcony. She’d wanted something with more character, but her parents had refused to pay more than eight-hundred a month. Not when she could live at home with them for free.
Lucy could imagine it was more. She pictured herself arriving at a high-rise building downtown. The doorman greeted her as he did every day. She rode the elevator to the luxury apartment on the top floor.
Beau had bought the apartment for her at the beginning of their imaginary relationship. She’d been too embarrassed to let him visit her little place, so he’d come up with his own money-flaunting solution. He had a key and could visit any time his heart desired.
In reality, she’d found the apartment online, saved pictures from the real estate website to her computer, and looked at them every once in a while to jog her memory.
Pretending her takeout order had just arrived, she set microwaved mac and cheese on the coffee table in front of the TV. Most Saturday nights were this way. Although, sometimes she would join Joni and Leron and some other mall employees at a bar and grill nearby. She never fit in, though, and would sit awkwardly silent for most of the night.
<
br /> Tonight there would be no distractions. She was ready to devote all her attention to Beau and she wanted zero interruptions. He'd been on the Late Show the night before, and she'd recorded it on her DVR but hadn't had time to watch it. Now she was ready. It was finally time for their date.
She was settled on the couch and hugging a throw pillow when Beau walked onto the set, waving and smiling that million dollar smile. She waved back at him from across a restaurant in her imagination. He kissed her cheek and they sat down.
The first subject of the interview was Hollywood parties. Beau admitted he’d been to many.
"It’s all necessary, you know," he said. "Hollywood networking and all that. But it’s fun. I like hanging out with that crowd a little bit. Like-minded people, you know. But not too much."
His fifteen-minute interview was stretched to almost an hour as she paused to study his expression, backtracked to hear his words again and again, and imagined he was saying some of those things directly to her. She pressed play again. Now he was discussing his romantic life. This was good for her. This was what she wanted to hear.
"I want to tell you something," Beau said. She leaned forward and clasped her hands over the coffee table as if he held them in his own. He had her undivided attention.
"I said to her, ‘You are lovely.’"
"You’re amazing, Beau," she whispered, overcome with emotion. The way he appreciated her in that moment made all the time apart worthwhile.
"I wanted to say it. It’s not something I can just Tweet about, you know?"
"Of course. I know. I feel the same way."
She paused the DVR at the right fraction of a second. Beau faced the camera, mid-sentence, with his mouth slightly open. He was speaking to her. On the other side of that screen, he was waiting for her.
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