Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel)

by Tina Wainscott

  After debating for a minute, she grabbed the note and headed out the door, feeling a great deal of trepidation about going to some abandoned place alone. Once she was heading over, her fears eased. Paul had wanted to talk to her about something, and she had a feeling it was important. He’d seemed scared. Maybe he decided it was safer to talk to Jesse about it instead.

  It was bright and sunny, not at all foreboding as she drove down the dirt road and pulled into the gravel driveway overgrown with weeds. Jesse had pointed the place out to her once, telling her a story about how he and Billy had spent the night there on a dare when they were kids. She shivered at the thought of walking into the run-down wood house, much less sleeping there.

  She saw Paul’s slick black truck parked over to the side, but no sign of Jesse’s truck. If the two had met here earlier, why was Paul still here?

  She knew she should turn around and leave, but her hand put the car in park and turned off the engine. What if Jesse had gone crazy and Paul was lying here hurt? She opened the door, telling herself it was for Jesse as she stepped out. She couldn’t bear to see him go to jail again.

  A breeze made the leaves rustle and brushed through the tall grasses all around. A blue shutter, hanging from a corner on the house, scratched against the cracked wood.

  “Paul?” she called out, though the wind took her words in the opposite direction.

  Marti spotted a well-worn pathway leading around back. Obviously kids still hung out here, probably dared each other to sleep there. As she walked around Paul’s truck toward the path, she noticed the quickened pace of her heartbeat. Jesse would be furious if he knew. Remembering that look on Paul’s face, she instinctively knew he wasn’t a threat. Her shoes crunched softly on the rocky gravel beneath her feet as she walked around.

  Her eyes scanned the area as she walked, her ears tuned to pick up anything beyond what the wind caressed. Everything looked serene … until she saw the knife lying in the path.

  Oh, crap.

  The blade of the pocketknife reflected the sunlight filtering through the trees. She knelt to examine it, and her heart stopped when she saw “J J W” etched on the ivory handle. Her heart tightened, and without thinking, she picked it up to look for signs of blood, then dropped it when she saw faint smears. Dear God, what had Jesse done? Or had Paul done something?

  Again she searched the area behind the house, walking farther back. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her steps grew quicker. When she saw him lying by a tree, she fought the black spots that threatened to take her to unconsciousness. Her hand went to her mouth as she pushed through the high grass and choke vines to the body sprawled in the shadows.

  Not Jesse. Relief, for a second. Not Jesse but Paul, with his neck twisted and blood surrounding a hole in his shirt. She pushed herself forward to grasp his wrist but didn’t have to check for a pulse. His hand was cold and stiff, and she dropped it with a scream.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Marti heard her own shock echoed in the voice behind her and spun to find Lyle Thomas standing on the pathway. Relief soared through her as she made her shaky way toward him. His gaze, locked on the body, quickly shifted to her, his hand going to the butt of the gun on his hip.

  “Marti, stay where you are. Don’t make me have to use this.”

  She came to a slow stop, bewilderment dazing her thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re under arrest.” He glanced at the body, so obviously dead. “For the murder of Paul Paton.”

  Numbness set in once Lyle escorted Marti to the back rooms where Jesse had spent a morning not long ago. That ever-present smell of cleaner permeated the air, and the florescent lights made everything seem sterile. Lyle took her fingerprints and photo. He didn’t say anything until he locked the jail door behind her.

  “Think about who you want your one call to be to. I’ve got to process this paperwork, and then I’ll be back.” Before turning away, he paused, looking more like a hound dog than a deputy. “Marti, I hope this is all one big mistake. But I can’t deny what I saw.”

  What he saw. She’d picked up the knife, dropped it, and then walked over to Paul’s body. She’d touched the knife; put her fingerprints on it. Her thoughts had been on Jesse, not incriminating herself.

  “Lyle, it is all a mistake.”

  “Remember, you don’t have to say anything until you get an attorney.”

  “I don’t care about an attorney. I didn’t kill Paul. You’ve got to believe me.” It all seemed so unreal, standing behind bars, pleading her innocence.

  “I want to, Marti.” He looked thoughtful. “Do you think Jesse saw that note?”

  “No. He wouldn’t have left it behind if he had.”

  She wouldn’t believe Jesse had killed Paul. It was as unlikely as her killing him. Lyle nodded, then walked away.

  “Lyle?”

  He turned around.

  “What were you doing out there, anyway?”

  “Carl saw Paul writing the note to Jesse. Since he was going to be gone today, he’d asked me to keep an eye on the place, check to see if Jesse’s truck was there. He didn’t want any trouble.”

  “Does he know? About Paul, I mean.”

  “We’ve called him in, but he doesn’t know why.”

  Chattaloo didn’t have much of a crime rate, and Marti was the only one in the twenty jail cells that night. Company didn’t have much appeal anyway, except for Jesse. He would come get her out of this, she knew. Win the race, rescue her from jail. No one could probably hear their phones with all the racket. Until then, all she could see was the horrid image of Paul. It made her stomach turn like worms in dirt.

  Marti knew she hadn’t drifted off, but a large amount of time had passed since she’d been arrested. Struggling to her feet, she paced for a few minutes, then called for Lyle. Except Carl walked through the open doorway, his face eerily free of emotion.

  “Where’s Lyle?” she asked, her voice quivering.

  “He’s gone to assist at the crime scene.”

  She backed away from the steel bars as Carl neared but kept her shoulders squared. “I didn’t kill your son. And neither did Jesse.”

  “I think you were both in on it. But I think it was Jesse who killed him.”

  “He couldn’t have done it. He left for the races at five this morning. That’s probably why he didn’t see Paul’s note. The guy who let him in at the track can verify his arrival time. I want my phone call.”

  Carl’s smile was flat, but his green eyes sparkled with evil. “Doesn’t matter. Jesse got into an accident at the race track.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, although the blood rushed to her face.

  Carl shrugged. “I guess I don’t care what you believe.”

  He pulled out his gun and unlocked the door, nodding for her to walk ahead. She stepped out and followed his nod toward the phone on Lyle’s desk.

  She called Jesse’s cell phone but got no answer. She started to call Helen’s number, but Carl slammed his hand down on top of hers.

  “That was your one call.”

  He wasn’t kidding. He still held his gun at his side, finger at the ready as he escorted her back to her cage without another word. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of revealing her fear. Jesse was a good driver. He wouldn’t crash.

  At nearly midnight, Carl roused Marti from a light slumber. “Helen is here.”

  Why wasn’t Jesse there? Her chest squeezed tight in fear. “To bail me out?”

  “No, to see you. Your bond hearing is tomorrow. The bail hearing won’t be until next week. If you get bail. Until then, you’re mine.”

  Her skin crawled at his words, at the strange glimmer in his eyes. She followed him to safety and warmth, to Helen. Carl led her to a series of phone-booth size cubbyholes with a telephone on each side.

  Helen stood on the other side of the slate of thick glass, worry permeating her expression. That told Marti more than she wanted to know. She slid onto
the vinyl chair between the partitions and picked up the phone. The moment Helen picked up her receiver, Marti asked, “Is Jesse all right?”

  “Yes, he’s going to be fine. It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

  All the hope and energy drained from Marti, pulling down her shoulders. “Then it’s true? He was in an accident.”

  “Yes, but don’t worry about him, Marti. You have enough right here to think about.”

  But she wasn’t thinking about herself. “What happened? Where is he?”

  “All I could understand was that he lost his brakes. He went off the track, hit the wall, and flipped the car. The doctor says he probably broke a rib or two and suffered a mild concussion. They’re checking for internal injuries, and he’ll be in for another day or two.” Helen shook her head. “If they can keep him in there. Right now he’s drugged up, but when he hears about you being in here, he’ll come tearing in to raise hell. I’ve been trying you all evening. Then I come home to find a message on my answering machine from Lyle. What in God’s name happened?”

  Marti paced, aching to be at Jesse’s side. She relayed the gruesome events of that afternoon, ending with, “I know I shouldn’t have gone there alone, but I was afraid for Jesse. I didn’t kill him, Helen.” Panic pitched her words in a higher tone.

  “I know you didn’t. Stay calm. Tomorrow is your bond hearing, and my boss is going to represent you. Bill Everhart plays bridge with the judge and his wife, so he pulled some aces and got your bail hearing moved up. We’ll get you a reasonable bail and get you out of here.”

  “Does Jesse know?”

  “He’s pretty out of it right now. He did ask for you, but I only told him you were on your way. At the time, I was worried sick because you and Priscilla hadn’t shown up at the track.”

  “Bill, my boss, will be in to talk to you about what to expect at your hearing.” She glanced back at the door. “I’d better go. It’s not really visiting hours, but I made Carl let me in for a few minutes. Are you going to be okay?”

  Marti shook her head, then nodded. “Just get me out of here. And give Jesse… my love.” The words came out, and she swallowed hard.

  Helen smiled knowingly. “I will.”

  Once she was gone, Carl pushed Marti back along the corridor toward her cell. The glint in his eyes was the only thing to indicate he was alive in there mentally.

  “Carl, please let me out of here, just for a few hours. Jesse’s in the hospital.”

  “I know.”

  “Let me see him. He needs me.”

  “You and your husband murdered my son and you want me to let you out so you can visit him?”

  “We didn’t kill Paul, and you know it.”

  He pushed her in and slammed the door shut. “I know nothing of the sort.”

  He left her alone to kick at the walls and hate him for keeping her when Jesse needed her.

  She saw Jesse for the first time since his accident at the bail hearing Tuesday afternoon. His pallor told her what it cost him to sit there waiting through traffic violations. She saw him try to hide the grimace whenever he shifted. Helen had told her how he’d tried to break out of the hospital once he was cognizant enough to understand about Marti’s arrest.

  Even with Bill Everhart standing before the judge with pressed suit and perfect hair, it didn’t look good. Carl was pushing for denial of bail altogether, repeating “risk of flight” over and over. He’d learned that she was leaving after the baby was born.

  Judge Oldburn studied her, as though weighing her integrity. He set the bail at $150,000, and she felt the thud as her heart dropped to the wooden floor. So much for bridge-playing loyalties.

  Helen maintained her determined stance: shoulders straight, mouth in a firm line. Marti wanted to cry but drew strength from her. Jesse seemed to draw strength from her, too, as he started to his feet to protest. Her softly spoken words made him sit down again. Caty whispered frantically, but Helen’s words calmed her, too.

  Lyle escorted Marti back to the jailhouse. Jesse was already waiting to see her when they pulled up. He glanced at her cuffs, but his eyes cloaked any emotion that threatened to show.

  Twenty minutes later, Lyle escorted her to the visitors’ room. “You have fifteen minutes.” At her distressed expression, he added, “Gotta follow the rules.”

  Once alone, she rushed to the booth and leaned toward the glass.

  “Jesse, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be at the hospital. Are you all right? What happened?”

  “Marti, how are you doing in here? God, it’s good to see you.”

  They spoke simultaneously, stopped to let the other talk, then smiled.

  Her lower lip trembled, wishing to comfort him, and wanting his strength. The last weeks of cold politeness slipped away. “I wish you could hold me,” she whispered into the phone, holding back tears.

  His gaze shifted away before meeting hers again. “Marti, I know the bail sounds like a lot, but we’re going to get it. We only need to come up with ten percent; we’ll let a bail bondsman come up with the rest. Ma has money, I’ll try to push through the loan for the baby’s expenses…”

  “No, I don’t want you to do that. You won’t be able to pay the hospital.”

  “Don’t you think we’re going to clear you and get our money back?”

  “I don’t know. It looks bad, and I’ve seen small town trials on television.” She took a deep breath. “They want to nail you, too.”

  “They don’t have anything on me.” His expression changed to something she couldn’t identify. “Did you think I’d killed Paul?”

  “No. When I got to the Jenkins’ place, I wasn’t sure what I’d find. Then I saw the knife with your initials on it, and I got scared.”

  His mouth tightened. “How did the guy who killed Paul get that knife? My dad gave that to me years back, and I keep it in my truck. It’s almost as if—”

  “Someone was trying to frame you,” Marti finished. “The note, your knife, and your past with Paul made it easy. But I found the note instead of you.”

  “Marti, I don’t think I need to tell you how stupid that was, going there by yourself, especially when it was only Paul’s truck there, so I won’t tell you.”

  “Gee, thanks for not saying it.” She took a quick breath. “It wasn’t stupid if you’d seen him that night…” She trailed off, but Jesse’s interest was too high for her to slide over that one.

  “What night?”

  She quickly found a lie to cover her mistake. “At the race track. I went down to get drinks, and he was there. He said he had to talk to me, and I could tell it was something important. Have you noticed how different he’d been since the night someone broke into my bedroom?”

  “Probably scared thinking what might have happened if I’d gotten hold of him.”

  “I don’t think it was Paul. It’s a gut feeling, but I don’t. Now he’s dead, and what if I get convicted? What if I’m in jail when the baby comes? What if Carl is on duty and won’t take me to the hospital? I could spend the rest of my life in some penitentiary.” Her voice rose, gaining traces of hysteria.

  “Calm down, doll. We’ll get you out of this.”

  The word ‘doll’ instantly filled her with longing. And hope. He hadn’t used it for a long time. She tightened her hold on the phone. “Tell me what happened at the race.”

  “We were toward the end of a long race, and my brakes wore out. When I realized it, I was right behind Alan and Josh. Now, I wouldn’t have minded hitting Josh so much, but he was right up on somebody else’s butt, and that would have hurt three of us. Hitting Alan was out of the question too, so my only other choice was to jerk it to the right and go into the wall. I hit it harder than I thought I would. The car flew up against the wall, tipped up on the front end, and real slow-like, dropped back on the other side.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair, the dangerous picture filling her mind. “But you’re all right? It sounds like you shouldn’t even be sitting here
.”

  “I gotta be here. Just like the crash, no choice. But I’m okay. Really,” he added to her disbelieving expression. “I broke some ribs, bruised my heel, a bump on the head, that’s all.”

  “That’s all? Broke some ribs? How many?”

  “Three,” he said with a shrug, trying to be cavalier about it, but his grimace at the action betrayed him. “Okay, it does hurt. But it isn’t fatal.”

  She dropped her forehead against the glass, feeling overwhelmed.

  “Hey,” he said softly, tapping on the glass. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen all that often, but it’s part of the game.”

  He placed his hand on the glass, and she pressed her hand against his, aching to feel more than the cold glass. His expression was intense, and his gaze seemed to swallow her up. Their exchange didn’t end when Lyle noisily opened the door behind her. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. Jesse leaned back into his chair again.

  “Sorry, you two, but time’s up.”

  Using the table’s edge, Marti pushed herself up. Jesse used the table for leverage, too. She wanted to cry. Then Jesse motioned for Lyle to pick up the phone. Lyle looked around nervously before doing so.

  “When are you going to clear my wife, Lyle? You know this isn’t right.”

  “First we’ve got to get a report from the medical examiner in Ft. Myers to get official cause of death. Things will happen fast after that.”

  Fast, Marti thought with a frown. Nothing happened fast in a small, Southern town.

  Throughout the week, Marti got plenty of visitors. Each one brought a report on how much bail Helen and Jesse had collected so far. The list grew every day, and she was touched when she saw names of Bad Boy patrons who didn’t even know her that well. By Friday, though, they were still five thousand nine hundred dollars short.

  “I want you out of here by this weekend,” Jesse said on the visitor’s phone.

  She leaned against the partition. “You’re almost there. Maybe by Monday or Tuesday.”