Fugitives of Love

by Lisa Girolami

  Marie leaned forward, as if his response appeared dubious. “What do you mean by that?”

  “He was a bastard. I’m not saying he should have been killed, but most folks knew what he was doing to his kids. Topher never got over that kind of upbringing. He’s been in jail a number of times since. He’s a mean one, too.”

  This piece of news didn’t surprise Brenna.

  “So what happens now?” Sinclair asked.

  “We have your statement, but we’ll need corroborating evidence and we’ll go through the things we collected back then. And for now, Miss Grady, you’ll be arrested and held here until a judge can hear your case. Would you like to add anything else at this point?”

  Sinclair looked down as if measuring the weight of her decision. “No.”

  Brenna hugged her before Sinclair was led away. She choked back tears, but they spilled out anyway, and she struggled to breathe through a throat that was so tight, she thought it would close completely.

  Brenna stood outside the interview room with Marie, numb and frightfully uncertain. “What do we do now?”

  “We go back to our hotels. We can’t do anything more right now. Let me take care of the next step.”

  “Which is?”

  “We wait for the arraignment and try to get bail. I’ll fight to get the lowest amount possible. If the judge orders a cash bond, you’ll need to come up with the full amount. If not, you can use a bondsman.”

  “That’s it? We wait?”

  “For now. I’ll call you when I know something.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Two days later, Sinclair stood before a judge in a small courthouse next to the police station. When the bailiff called, “The People vs. Tamara Grady,” Brenna’s stomach clenched. Sinclair was brought out in handcuffs and wearing a pale-blue jumpsuit.

  The judge took a couple of long minutes to review a file, then asked the prosecutor for a few specifics of the case. After that, Marie made some comments and a confusing exchange of paperwork took place.

  The judge then asked the prosecutor to make a statement with respect to bail. He advised the court that he’d recommend bail and that the amount be set at $75,000.

  Marie then addressed the court while Sinclair remained silent. She reminded the court that Sinclair came forward of her own accord, had no prior trouble, had lived the last twenty years as a model citizen, and had made arrangements to stay in town. She then requested of the court that she be released on her own recognizance.

  The judge made a few notes and set a surety bond of $50,000. He added that if she bonded out, she would have to check in once a week with a court officer.

  That was it. In less than five minutes, the arraignment was over.

  Again, Brenna watched Sinclair being led away. They were only allowed to share a quick look, and Brenna tried her best to appear confident and encouraging. She held her hand to her heart and Sinclair raised her cuffs, matching the gesture with both hands.

  Marie joined Brenna at the back of the courtroom. “Now we have to get Sinclair out on bail.”

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  Marie handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s the name of a local bondsman. It’ll take a few hours until she’s in the system. I’m going back to my hotel to work on my case notes. Call me when she’s out, okay?”

  Brenna’s cell phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID.

  Shit. “Mom. Hi.”

  “I dropped by the gallery and Carl said you were gone. Where are you, Brenna?”

  “I’m on vacation.”

  “With a show about ready to open?”

  “The show’s fine, mom.”

  “Are you with Sinclair?”

  “Yes.” Though she couldn’t see her, Brenna knew her mother had that damn look in her eyes.

  “This isn’t like you. At least not for a long time. And you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean. And it’s not like last time.”

  “Right before a show?”

  Her voice ticked up a notch and it rankled Brenna. “Mom, leave it alone. I love her, do you understand?”

  “What I understand is that your father and I invested a lot of money in your gallery. Honey, I’m worried.”

  As fresh as an ocean breeze could lift her hair and cool her face, a thought washed over her. “I’m going to pay you back for the loan, Mom. I should have done that a long time ago.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I want to. Need to, actually. I have to go, Mom.” It was apparent that her mother had more things to say, but Brenna said good-bye and hung up.

  Brenna inhaled deeply, the decision clearing her head quite a bit. She left the courtroom and called her bank in New York. She needed to have a bail bondsman arrange the full bail amount. For that, she had to pay them a ten-percent fee. She told her bank representative to have $5,000 wired to her.

  *

  The rain continued to fall as Brenna drove back to Sinclair’s old neighborhood. She had some time while the court processed Sinclair’s bail paperwork and her bank arranged for the wire transfer. She hated the thought of Sinclair spending even one moment in jail and would go to the bail bondsman that Marie recommended as soon as she could. But she first needed to do something else for Sinclair.

  She parked past Topher’s place and walked back to the neighbor’s house. She shook off the rain as best she could and rang the doorbell.

  The same shuffling noises came and stopped just on the other side of the door.

  “Who is it?”

  Obviously, Clara had become nervous after Sinclair and Brenna’s last visit.

  “Clara, my name is Brenna Wright. I’m with Sinclair…Tamara Grady. I need to speak with you,” Brenna said through the closed door.

  There was no response.

  “Please.”

  The door opened and Clara stepped aside, letting Brenna in. She closed the door and led her to a couch in the front room.

  Clara seemed to be Sinclair’s age, but she moved with the slowness of an aged person. She had makeup on but it was applied in a clumsy way, as if she rarely left the house.

  “Clara,” Brenna said as they both sat, “I’m Brenna. It’s nice to meet you.” Nothing about the situation and the dark, rainy day was nice at all, though. “I imagine you’re afraid. Of Topher, I mean, and I understand. Tamara is in jail now. She turned herself in for the death of her stepfather, but she really needed to talk to you. I’m not sure what about, but I hope you can help her in some way.”

  “Tamara and I were childhood friends.” Clara paused and offered Brenna water or coffee. Feeling a sense of urgency, Brenna declined.

  “It was such a horrible night,” Clara said. “I always wished Tamara could move in with me and my family, to get away from hers, but that still wouldn’t have been far enough away. And after that night, she was just gone. There was talk around town about her. The police crawled all over the county but never found her. Some thought she’d killed herself. I even heard that someone found her clothes out by a lake just south of town, like she’d jumped in and drowned.” Clara wrung her hands and a long, drawn-out “oh” came from her before she continued. “I can’t imagine what it was like to be surviving on her own at fifteen. I thought of her so much over the next few years. I ain’t never thought she’d died. I figured one day they’d catch her, but that day never came.”

  “Clara,” Brenna said, “Sinclair said that when she saw you through your window the other day, a foggy memory came back to her.”

  Clara’s hands stopped moving.

  “That night…did you see her?”

  Clara’s mouth tensed and then she nervously licked her lips. “Yeah.” She flattened both hands on her knees. “I heard the fightin’ that day and into the night, which was usual, but that night, it was worse than that. It had got quiet for a while, that was after the sun gone down. Maybe nine o’clock. I went over to see if she was okay.”

  “And?”

&nb
sp; “I looked into her bedroom window. She was in a bad way.”

  “What does that mean? Was she scared? Hurt?”

  “She was drunk. I tried to get her to leave through the window, because if her stepfather saw her that way, he’d kill her. She laid down on the bed. All she wanted to do was go to sleep.”

  “She said that?”

  “No, she just fell asleep. I called her name a whole bunch of times, but she didn’t move.”

  “And then what?”

  “I heard more yelling coming from the hallway close to her room so I got scared and left.”

  Brenna thanked her and got up to leave. She hadn’t heard anything that would help.

  “Thank you, Clara.”

  As if apologizing, Clara said, “That evening…was a nightmare.”

  But Brenna knew the nightmare wasn’t over.

  She risked looking toward Topher’s house as she drove away. Blowing out a nervous breath, she saw that the front door was closed and the window shades were down.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Smitty’s Bail Bonds office handled her case swiftly and flipped through the paperwork as if she were buying an automobile on a used-car lot. They took her deposit and explained that they would go right to the jail and start the process with the officer attending the front desk. They told her, however, that with the time between the police verifying the bond and sifting through the paperwork, then the final bonding-out, the process could take three or four hours. Maybe more.

  Brenna took the opportunity to get something to eat at a local diner and then call her sister.

  “So now what?” Beanie asked after Brenna had filled her in on what had transpired since they left New York.

  “We get Sinclair out and hope for the best.”

  “But she’s going to trial, right?”

  “Not yet. The lawyer is walking us through the procedure, which has a lot of steps. Let’s just hope something happens between now and then that helps.”

  “Are you okay, sis?”

  “I feel horrible. It’s like I helped turn her over to the wolves.”

  “But you said she decided to do this.”

  “All because I met her.”

  “But if you hadn’t met her, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to love.”

  “Well, not love me. But she could have met someone who wouldn’t have influenced her to blow her cover.”

  “You’re second-guessing, Bren. There’s a reason for all this. All you can do is love her and support her.”

  “And bake a cake for her in prison.”

  “Stop that. You don’t need to go there. You have to prop her up and get her through this. Love is a powerful thing, you know.”

  “I’m not sure I do.”

  “Well, with Sinclair, it’s time you stepped up to the relationship plate. You’ve lived a pretty happy-go-lucky life. You’re not going to like me saying this, but you’re a consummate dater who runs when things get weird or heavy. Well, you’ve got both of those things now, but you also have a wonderful woman.”

  Brenna had to agree. “She isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Do you really love her?”

  “I’m crazy about her.”

  “It’s easy to be crazy about someone. What I’m talking about is the times when the realities of life come.”

  “We’re facing some harsh realities right now.”

  “And what do you feel?”

  “I’m pretty spun up, Beanie. But I can’t leave her. It’s like I’m in some kind of altered state. Being with other women was okay. As I look back, I suppose at times dating them was mostly something to do. But Sinclair seems real and my whole life changed when we met. I don’t think I ever understood self-sacrifice and compromise as much as I do now. But both don’t take anything away from me. It’s easy with her. I can’t explain it any other way. If this whole mess could somehow be cleared up, I’d sweep her off her feet and spend the rest of my life making her happy.”

  “Then that’s what you do. Go with your feelings. Don’t overthink them. You do that too much in the rest of your world.”

  “How did you become so wise?”

  Beanie’s laugh was warm and full of affection. “These are the same things you talked to me about when I met Pete.”

  Nevertheless, her sister surprised her. She had grown into a magnificent and mature young woman.

  “I love you, sis.”

  “Me, too, Bren. Now go help her.”

  *

  Brenna waited for Sinclair in the lobby of the police station. It was interesting to watch the routines of people who were in the business of serving the community. It was also odd for her to think that these people also wrangled criminals and sometimes shot guns. If it weren’t for the uniforms, they’d look like workers in an automobile-warranty department or any other workplace.

  Four-and-a-half hours after Brenna left the bondsman, Sinclair was released. She rushed up to Brenna and hugged her so hard, she thought they’d tumble over and land on the ground right in front of two officers who were sharing a story about a recent breakin.

  They waited until they were in the car to kiss. It was long and incredible and full of passion.

  “I missed you so much,” Sinclair said. “Thank you for getting me out. I know it was expensive. I don’t know how to—”

  “Don’t say any more about that. We’re in this together, okay?”

  Sinclair kissed her again, gingerly holding Brenna’s cheeks as if she were a butterfly that might flutter away any moment.

  Sinclair looked tired. “I need a shower.”

  “We’re heading straight back to the hotel, then.”

  As they drove, Brenna filled her in on her visit to Clara’s house. Sinclair remained silent for a while, taking in what she was saying with a few nods.

  “I’m sorry she didn’t see much that would help,” Brenna said as they turned into the hotel driveway.

  “She did.”

  “Did what?”

  “I need to see her.”

  “You want to talk to Clara?”

  “Yes. Being here in Little Creek has made things become a little clearer. Memories are coming back. Most of them don’t have anything to do with that night. I mean, I remember details from walking home from school because we drove down my old street. And conversations come back just by getting food at the grocery store.”

  “What’s coming back about Clara?”

  “I’m not sure yet. It’s right at the edges of my mind. But I need to see her.”

  “Let’s get you showered and then we’ll go.”

  “Now. Please, let’s go now.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Clara showed them to her couch. “It’s been a long time,” she said.

  “It has,” Sinclair said. “Brenna told me you two spoke this morning.”

  Clara nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “I remember getting drunk and I’m trying to remember more. You said that I laid down on the bed.”

  “Yeah. I tried to get you to leave through the window. Mr. Grady was pretty mad, yellin’ and making noises. I was scared he’d come in and beat the livin’ daylights outta you.”

  “Why didn’t I go?”

  “You were all messed up, Tamara. You’d spilled soda or booze or somethin’ dark all over you and didn’t want nothin’ to do with nothin’. You just went to sleep.”

  Sinclair struggled to recall more from that night. “I don’t remember that.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re drunk.”

  “I don’t remember just falling asleep.”

  “She doesn’t remember,” Brenna said directly to Clara, “because she didn’t just fall asleep. She passed out.”

  Clara looked down and nodded. Tears began to run down her cheeks and Sinclair leaned forward.

  “What’s the matter, Clara? Tell us.”

  “Like I said before, I heard Topher and Mr. Grady screaming just outside in the hall
so I left. I just left you there. I was scared you’d get beaten so badly. You always had a black eye or punched-up face. Always. But this time seemed real bad. But I left you there. And then I was crossing your lawn, just passing the front door, when I heard the gunshot. I thought he’d come in and found you drunk and killed you.” Tears ran down her cheeks and she started clasping her hands together.

  Brenna sat there silently for a minute. “Wait a minute. You said you were passing their front door…you mean about twenty feet away from the window? Like, in five seconds?”

  She nodded again.

  “But you said Sinclair was passed out. She couldn’t have come to, found a gun, found her stepfather, and pulled the trigger all in the time it took you to walk twenty feet.”

  Clara began to cry harder. “I couldn’t tell anyone. The next morning, when I heard what happened, Topher had already said that Tamara shot him, and all those police scared me to death. Later, I tried to talk to Topher, but he said Tamara did it and I didn’t know nothing. He said he’d kill me if I said anything. For the next few weeks, Topher came around and made sure I knew he was there, like he was watching me, so I didn’t say nothin’. I hate to admit this, but eventually things returned to normal and I went about my life. I never had the money to leave this house, especially after my daddy ran off and mom drank herself into her grave a few years back.”

  She looked up and her eyes were wet and red. “I’m so sorry this all happened to you, Tamara. When you showed up here, I was so glad you was alive, but I’m still afraid of Topher. You don’t know what he can do.”

  “I do,” Sinclair said solemnly. “He could kill you.” She turned to Brenna, her face flushed. “Like he did his father.”

  “But you turned yourself in. I need to make right of my wrong.”

  Brenna spoke next. “Clara, you need to take this information to her lawyer and help Tamara. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Marie will do whatever she can to protect you.”

  “I’m not sure if it’ll do any good,” she looked at Sinclair, “but you been through enough. And if there’s a chance to get Topher taken away, the whole neighborhood’ll be better off. It’s been too long.”