Lone Star Joy

by Kathleen Ball

  He knew losing Dillon would be devastating, but so would losing Joy. His heart hurt as though it was being squeezed in a vise. Dear God he loved them both. He couldn't wait for Stacey to get a lawyer. A judge just might give her custody. No, he had to prove Joy's innocence and he didn't care if she objected. They were in the fight of their lives and too bad if she didn't like it.

  Stamos turned Frankie toward home and rode, not as hard this time. He needed to think of a way to approach the whole situation that wouldn't send Joy flying out the door.

  Corny was outside the barn looking worried. Something wasn't sitting right with him.

  Stamos jumped down, handed Frankie to Benji who also looked worried, and walked over to Corny. "What happened?"

  "I take full responsibility, Boss. Somehow he got into the house and the next thing I know there was all kinds of hollerin'." Corny looked at Stamos then at the house.

  "Don't act dumb as sand, tell me what the hell happened."

  "It's Joy. Her father showed up and gave her a beatin'. I ran as soon as I heard the screaming."

  Stamos took off running toward the house. In one sweeping look, he observed that Bea and Dillon were fine. Joy was sitting on the couch with a split lip and a black eye. Anger filled his being as he stomped over to her. "You let that bastard in here?"

  Joy looked similar to a deer caught in headlights, her eyes big and round with fright. Tears poured down her face and she looked away from him.

  Stamos swore as she tried to pull away from him. "I'm sorry. What the hell happened?" he asked, putting gentle hands on Joy's shoulders. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but she winced in pain.

  "It wasn't Joy's fault. I was in the kitchen when he came in. I should have stopped him, but he knocked me to the ground," Bea lamented.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No, it seems that Joy took the brunt of that man's anger. He's an animal the way he grabbed her hair and slapped her face, yelling at her to keep her mouth shut."

  "Could you put Dillon in his crib and then bring me supplies to tend to my wife?"

  "Of course. I'm so sorry."

  "Bea? It's not your fault. It's not Joy's fault either, and I'm sorry that I made it seem so."

  Bea nodded to him. She scooped Dillon out of his playpen and walked up the stairs.

  "Sorry," Stamos murmured.

  "It's not so bad," Joy replied, trying to stay strong. Any other time she'd been beat up, she hadn't had a choice. You don't cry in jail.

  "Your face is swelling. I'll get some ice."

  Joy laid her hand on his arm, stopping him. She liked his nearness. "Don't go."

  "It's just to the kitchen."

  "I know. Just sit here with me for a moment. I'll be fine, just give me a minute."

  Stamos' concerned eyes almost made her tear up. Leaning over, she stroked the side of his face. His whiskered face tickled her fingers. This latest mishap just proved that she had to leave. Her heart was beginning to splinter. As she traced his strong jaw line with her fingers, Joy became washed in regret.

  Stamos took her wandering hand in his. "Joy?"

  "No, don't talk. I might come apart if you talk. Let me get my bearings, let me gather my strength."

  "I'd kiss you right now, but that split lip looks painful."

  Joy nodded. It wasn't the physical pain that hurt the most. She couldn't bear the emotional pain. It was her fault. She'd known from day one that she shouldn't let her guard down.

  "I got here as soon as I could," said a large, older man.

  "George. Oh, George, you should be in bed," Joy scolded.

  "I'm fine, Joy, it's you I'm worried about. Hey, Stamos." He shook the other man's hand.

  "Good to see you, George."

  "Heard tell there's been a lot of trouble around my little gal."

  Joy's heart warmed being called his little gal. She and George had been friends from day one. His job at the time was to escort her from the jail to court each day. When she was sentenced to prison, somehow George had come along. The long years in solitary confinement were only bearable because of George.

  "We seem to have a situation. People are coming at her from all directions. Her father did this to her, Miss Perkins keeps threatening her, and my son's mother is screaming that she wants Dillon back."

  George sat down looking directly at Joy. "It's time, sugar. You can't go back to prison. There are two inmates gunning for you and I don't think you'll live to tell about it. You need to tell the truth."

  Joy shook her head. Her voice trembled. "My father and brother have both been here to warn me. They mean business. The only thing is for me to go back."

  "No," both men shouted at once.

  "Look Joy, I need you to listen to me. I'd rather fight those two bastards and put them where they belong. I can't protect you if you go back to prison," George said with authority.

  Looking first at George then at Stamos, Joy nodded her head. She was frightened to the tips of her toes, but George was right. It was time.

  Chapter Nine

  "Let's go into my office." Stamos took Joy's hand, helping her stand.

  Joy was glad for his strength. Her legs wobbled as she followed him into his office. It was truth time. It'd been so long that Joy wasn't sure what the truth was. It had become a bit muddied in her mind over the years. All except for the fact that she was innocent.

  Looking around Stamos' office, Joy could see her whole life spread all over the room. Files, affidavits, and pictures, all as scattered as her life had become. It was sad that her life wasn't represented by a family portrait of happy faces. No, her life had all come down to accusations and judgments.

  Bea stuck her head in. "Need anything?"

  "How about a pot of coffee and some sandwiches?" Stamos asked.

  Bea smiled, her eyes lingering on George. "Coming right up."

  "Thanks, Bea."

  The way Bea and George had looked at each other made Joy wish for things she couldn't have. Taking a deep breath, she gave Stamos and George a weak smile. "I don't know where to begin."

  Stamos stood up and came around from the back of his desk. He sat on the couch next to her and took her hand. "The beginning, Joy, start at the beginning." His voice soothed her fears.

  "My mother died when I was ten. Three years later, my father met a woman named Daisy. A pretty name, but she was in no way pretty. She was all glitz and glamour on the outside and pure meanness on the inside."

  "Here's the coffee. I made sandwiches and my peach cobbler," Bea announced, walking into the room laden with a huge tray.

  George jumped to his feet and took the heavy tray from her. "Here, a pretty gal like you don't need to be toiling so hard."

  Bea blushed and smiled. "Thank you." She turned toward George, handing him the tray.

  Joy wanted to giggle as they gazed at each other. At least it cut the tension around her. Her life may be crumbling, but she wished the best for her friends.

  "I'll close the door on my way out and make sure you're not disturbed," she said, then hesitated. "I wanted you to know that Corny and Benji feel all kinds of sorry that they weren't here to stomp Joy's father into smithereens."

  Stamos ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Bea, tell them I'll talk to them later. Just reassure them that it's not their fault."

  Bea smiled and took one more glance at George. "I'll do that."

  Joy waited for the door to close. "They were married for a little over a year. She was hell on wheels. Eyes in the back of her head. She knew every mistake I made and she would beat me. Daisy hated me, but Jaime could do no wrong. She was always hanging on him like a cheap suit. Jaime lapped up the attention at first. I only know what Jaime and my father told me. They said that Daisy was molesting Jaime."

  "Did they tell you this before or after she died?" Stamos asked.

  "After. I was asleep, they woke me up, Jamie and my father did. I could tell by the looks on their faces that something was horribly wrong. I could hear their
hearts beating out of their chests. It was awful. They both had blood on their clothes."

  Stamos took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

  "They said that Daisy was dead and they were in big trouble. Jaime was almost eighteen at the time. They told me that if I said I did it, I'd only get a few months in juvie. Otherwise Jaime would get the electric chair."

  "Here honey, drink some of this." George handed her a cup of coffee.

  Joy took the mug and stared at it. Everything seemed so surreal. "They still hadn't told me what had happened. They just kept saying how family sticks together and how I had the power to save Jaime's life."

  Joy closed her eyes. She could still see Daisy lying in the bed, her neck cut open. "There was so much blood. It was so red and the smell was overwhelming. I remember running into the bathroom and vomiting. My father, right behind me, repeating that Jaime would get the electric chair."

  She opened her eyes and tried to wish away the images, but they were ever present. Joy swallowed hard, feeling a large lump in her throat. She stopped to sip her coffee. Stamos and George didn't say a word they just watched her.

  "I loved my brother and my father. I was glad that Daisy was dead. She wouldn't be beating me anymore with her belt. They kept promising I'd get hardly any time because I had just turned fourteen years old. A few months in juvie compared to the electric chair. I chose to help my brother."

  "Joy, you're shaking," Stamos said, putting his arm around her. "Do you need a break?"

  How she wished he had asked if she wanted to stop all together. "I can keep going."

  Taking a moment to regroup, Joy was silent. She felt so old, so very old. "We restaged the... it. They took showers, buried their clothes, and then they made me stand next to Daisy with the butcher knife. I had to dip the knife in her blood and shake the knife around so the blood would get on me. Then I intentionally put my bare feet in her blood and made bloody footprints leading into my bedroom. I was told to put the knife under the mattress and to get under the bed. They were going to call the police and I would be hiding under the bed."

  "They alibi each other?" Stamos asked.

  "Yes we made up a whole story on how it all happened. We went over it again and again until I could recite it all without thinking."

  The anger radiating from Stamos made her uncomfortable. Putting her mug on the scarred oak coffee table, Joy squeezed Stamos' hand and let it go. She stood and walked over to the window. She wished she could enjoy the view of the horses at play, but her mind was filled with ugliness.

  "They called the police. I hid under my small bed for a very long time. It was awful being covered in Daisy's blood, knowing that the police would think I did it. I kept telling myself that I was doing it for my family."

  "Joy, come back and sit down," Stamos said, the worry in his voice went straight to her heart.

  Turning, she gave him a half smile. "I'm fine here. The police arrived and they pulled me out. The light was on in my room, but they blinded me with their flashlights. It was terrifying to be put in handcuffs and taken away."

  Joy paced for a moment, and then went back to the window. "I thought that was awful, but it wasn't the worst part. In fact, that was the easiest part of the whole ordeal. I knew my father and Jaime depended on me and I wasn't going to let them down. I was doing it for a cause. I had conviction in my actions.

  My crime was so horrific that I stayed in the county jail until trial. 107 long days I sat waiting. I waited to be let free. They witnessed the bruises that Daisy had left on my body, I thought they'd let me out after they photographed them. I waited for my father to visit. He never came. He only answered one phone call I made to him. He wanted me to know that he hired a lawyer and to go with the plan. Everything would be just fine, but the lawyer thought we shouldn't talk until after the trial. It was a lie."

  "Joy, why don't we take a break, sweetheart?" George asked, his voice so full of concern that Joy almost cried.

  "No I need to get it all out. I need to be done with it."

  George nodded to her.

  "The trial was shocking. Besides my clothes and the knife, there was a massive amount of evidence against me. It was evidence that my father manufactured. Evidence he planted before Daisy was killed."

  Tears rolled down her face. She thought she was past caring about it. Her father's betrayal still cut her to the core.

  Stamos stood up and approached her. He opened his arms and she stepped into them. His embrace was her lifeline. She even shocked herself by how loud she sobbed.

  Joy looked up when she heard the door close. George had given them some privacy. She fought to regain control of her emotions, but she failed. Stamos' shirt was soaked under her cheek. He handed her a clean bandana and his kindness made her cry harder.

  All of her life she had secretly craved to be comforted the way Stamos comforted her now. It felt as wonderful as she always imagined. She took a deep breath, stopping her tears. As she clung to Stamos, she relished the feeling of safeness he gave her. It was fleeting, she understood that, but she was reluctant to let go.

  Hearing the door open, Joy slowly drew away from Stamos. The look of concern in his dark eyes almost made her cry again, but she needed to stand strong.

  "I can go on." She gave Stamos a tight smile.

  She chilled at the loss of his arms around her. For a moment in time, she imagined she was safe, but that was not her reality.

  "Let's get to the evidence, that's how we'll try to prove your innocence," Stamos told her, his face full of understanding.

  She clasped her hands to still their shaking. Joy walked over to the window again. It was easier than looking at Stamos and George. "Let's see, the first piece of evidence was an insurance policy I supposedly took out in Daisy's name for one million dollars. I was the beneficiary. That's when I figured out that I'd been set up. The policy had been signed six months before her death. In Texas, they call that premeditation. A passport with my name suddenly appeared along with a plane ticket to Argentina."

  Joy looked at the two men and laughed, a brief, bitter laugh. "Why would I go there? Personally, I'd pick some tropical island. Then there were the supposed text messages I sent to Jaime in which I texted that I was going to kill Daisy. I didn't have a cell phone."

  Joy sat down on the couch next to Stamos. "This is my personal favorite. I was supposedly poisoning her with arsenic that they found in my closet. The arsenic was to kill her so I could collect on the insurance. The prosecutor said that Daisy's latest beating escalated the whole matter and I slit her throat instead."

  Joy reached a shaking hand out to Stamos and was relieved that he took it in his. "I was tried as an adult and sent to prison at the age of fourteen."

  "Tell me about your lawyer," Stamos urged.

  "He never met with me. My father was paying him. The defense he laid out was self-defense. I was so stupid. I didn't know that I could fire him."

  "Damn, they piled you under fake evidence," Stamos said, his outrage warming her heart.

  "I did my part too. I had her blood on me, the bloody knife, and the footsteps leaving the crime scene."

  "Why? Why did they do this?" Stamos asked.

  "For the money. There was a second insurance policy that my father took out on Daisy when they married. It was worth two million."

  Stamos took a deep breath. "What I don't understand is how they were so sure that you'd keep quiet."

  "I can answer that one for you, Stamos," George interjected. "They paid people to kill Joy. Luckily, she's still alive."

  Joy sent George a grateful smile. "Thanks to you, George."

  "What about the other evidence they found on the computer?"

  Joy wanted to laugh. It was all so insane. "I never even used that computer. They have texts and emails I sent to Jaime about how I'd love to kill Daisy. There were also some searches on poisons and the topper was the order for the arsenic. It was well planned."

  "I'm so sorry, Joy." Stamos' voice
sounded heavy with emotion.

  "Me too," she said. "I just wish I hadn't brought all my troubles to your door."

  "We'll figure it out together."

  "I'm in," George said, getting out of his chair and kissing Joy on the top of her head. "I always wished that I could help, but no one would listen."

  "We'll have to be careful. Wood and Jaime seem out for blood," Stamos warned.

  "They've been damn smart and damn lucky so far," George commented. "Listen, Joy looks wiped out. I'm going to take off. I have to check on the rest of the guys out here. They are all my cases. If I made things worse by finagling Joy's work release, I'm sorrier than I can say."

  "George, you brought a rare treasure into my life, so no you didn't do anything wrong. We have a lot of thinking to do. I want to find a way to expose Wood and Jaime."

  "Take care of my little gal." George put on his tan Stetson.

  "I promise." Stamos stood up and shook the older man's hand.

  "I'll be by tomorrow."

  "Thank you, George," Joy said, her smile wobbly.

  George nodded and left. They heard him murmuring to Bea.

  "I think romance is in the air," Stamos teased.

  "It's about time."

  "You care a lot about him don't you?"

  "He's been all the family I'd had until you and Dillon. George was my lifeline, my sanity, my protector. I was only attacked when he was off duty."

  Stamos reached out and pulled Joy onto his lap. Kissing her cheek, he then tucked her head under his chin and held her tight. "I'm here now."

  Joy put her arms around him. "I know and I thank you."

  "No thanks needed when love is involved," Stamos whispered.

  Joy didn't know what to do. She never anticipated hearing those words. She'd fallen in love with Stamos despite all her hard work to keep her heart walled off.

  She turned and straddled him, trying to get as close as humanly possible. Joy willed herself to just concentrate on the pleasure of Stamos. His hard body and his strong arms. The beat of his heart and the sound of his breathing. His scent drove her crazy, leather and freshness and something else she couldn't make out. Whatever it was, she loved it. It drew her as unyielding as a powerful magnet and she didn't want to let go.