The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  Josie stiffened when she heard that sultry, peppery voice. Her hands trembled and her stomach turned with a sudden sickness. Bad times were coming. The landlord was there, and the rent was due. Frozen in mid-air, Josie's hands hovered over the array of photographs she had ripped out of their file jackets and spread on the floor. Slowly, she sank back on her heels as Linda Rayburn circled around, towering over her, confident as could be.

  "Did I leave the door open?"

  Josie's eyes were steady as they met Linda's. There was no flicker of surprise, no current of fear to betray her astonishment at finding Linda standing in her home – uninvited, unexpected, and unwanted.

  Linda's shoulders raised playfully, a coquette's apology. Her smile was charming and edgy.

  "Nope. Front door's closed up tight," she said.

  "I didn't know you could pick locks, Linda."

  "Didn't have to, Josie. This isn't the most secure place in the world. You should have had someone take care of that broken pane on the back door. Easy as pie to get in."

  Josie was lulled by the shadows in the room, Linda's casualness. Her jacket was zipped up so that the collar framed her face. Her cheeks were rosy red from the cold. She was wearing gloves. Josie didn't remember her wearing gloves while they walked. There was sand on the carpet. Linda's shoes had tracked sand into the house. Her shoes. Josie was looking at them – staring at them – when Linda laughed.

  "Your game face isn't so good anymore, Josie," Linda chided. "There's something on your mind, and I have a feeling it just might have something to do with me."

  "Not everything revolves around you, Linda." Josie tried to fake. Linda wasn't fooled. She chuckled.

  "Oh, I think you're fibbing. I saw something change out there. You didn't think I noticed that? It was like a friggin' light bulb going on over your head." Linda leaned forward and pantomimed. The smile faded, her eyes hardened. "Why don't you just tell me what got your short hairs up? Does it have something to do with what you're looking at, Josie? What's that? There." Linda nudged the photographs with her toe. "That one. What's that one?"

  Josie picked it up and held it out to Linda. It was self-explanatory but Josie said:

  "You and Hannah by the fire truck." Linda took it. Her brow furrowed. "It was two o'clock in the morning when the fire broke out."

  "I didn't exactly look my best." Linda let the photo flutter to the floor.

  "You were dressed," Josie pointed out. "You were fully dressed, Linda."

  "I threw some clothes on when I saw the fire. It's just a top and slacks, my shoes. It took a few seconds."

  "But you saw Hannah start the fire," Josie reminded her. "That's what you testified to. You saw her. If you saw her, then you had to be dressed before the fire started. Then you had to be outside when the fire started. Why were you outside?"

  Linda checked out her nails. She looked around and found little to interest her.

  "Hannah looked in my room. I knew she did it every night. I followed her when she left."

  "Did you stay dressed every night just so you could follow her?"

  "No. Just that night. I did it that night," Linda said, wary now but still in control. "She was having problems with Fritz, Josie. She wasn't in her right mind. A good mother looks out for her child. I wanted to make sure she didn't get into any trouble."

  "If you were following her, Linda, why didn't you stop her before she set the fire?" Josie moved slowly as if her position was uncomfortable and she wanted to settle in while they talked. She put her hands on the ground, a runner's stance. She tried to get up but Linda raised her foot, put it against Josie's shoulder and eased her down.

  "I like it this way. Why don't you just stay there," Linda suggested.

  Josie sat down again. This time her legs were to her side, her hands on the floor next to her. Her eyes were sharp, trained on Linda's face but also her hands. Above all, Josie wanted to keep Linda's hands in sight. She knew how quick Linda could be.

  "What was the question, Josie? I forgot. It's so different when you're sitting in front of everyone in a courtroom. Then you remember every question. You have to really be sharp in a courtroom. It's different here. All cozy. I just forgot what you asked."

  "I want to know why you didn't stop Hannah if you saw what she was doing. There were two flash points. You could have seen the first one in Fritz's room through the window. Hannah would have had to take time to spill the turpentine, to light the match on the second. You're strong. Even if you weren't, you could have stopped her just by calling her name. Hannah would do anything for you. But I guess you know that."

  "No," she sighed, "I don't think I could have stopped her. I was too far behind. I wasn't sure which route she took. It was a huge home. A perfect home, Josie. It was a perfect life."

  "Hannah took the same route every night, Linda. Mrs. Peterson testified to that."

  "Maybe she didn't that night. Things can always change," Linda said. "But, with all these questions, it seems you think something else happened."

  "Maybe you were there before Hannah. Maybe Kip wasn't the only one missing when Hannah looked into your room. I mean, if you lied about Hannah setting the fire maybe you lied about you being in bed. In fact, I never asked you if you were there, did I?"

  "Ooh." Linda pursed her lips. "That's a good one, Josie."

  "Maybe you weren't so sure about Kip's undying devotion after all. Could that be it?" Josie baited her.

  "That's a lot of maybes, Josie."

  "That's my job, but sometimes I'm not so quick. But look. . ."

  Josie reached for the box next to her. Linda's foot shot out. She stepped hard on Josie's hand. Josie crumbled and gasped, gritting her teeth against the pain as Linda brought the full force of her weight down on her.

  "There's nothing in there but pictures, Linda. I promise." Linda eased up. Josie slid her hand from underneath Linda's foot. "Look, I just want to show you Hannah's sketchbook."

  Linda stayed close enough to control Josie if she had to. Cautiously, Josie reached inside the box. Carefully she opened the book.

  "I thought this was a picture of you leaving Hannah behind. But this is Hannah watching you run from the fire you set. She was confused and scared, and her beautiful paintings were in that downstairs room." Josie raised her eyes. "Hannah didn't lie. She did try to put out the fire, and she didn't even know Fritz was lying upstairs. She didn't know because she lied about that, too, didn't she?"

  "Fritz was abusing her. She didn't lie about that," Linda said lazily. "I can't believe that bastard did that to Hannah."

  "No, I mean the other thing. Hannah had been in his bedroom. She didn't hit Fritz, you did. That first night I saw you there was a scrape healing on your knuckles. It could have been a week old. Your DNA and Hannah's would be virtually identical."

  Josie pushed the sketchbook toward Linda. She pushed it as far as she could so that she had to lean forward and balance on her knees. Josie raised her eyes, still talking, tensing her muscles and gauging Linda's balance.

  "Hannah was willing to take the rap for you, wasn't she, Linda?"

  Linda walked to the far corner of the room, moving as if choreographing a war dance. Six steps and then a turn. Her head was in profile and her neck was taut. She was out of range. Josie relaxed and watched for the next opportunity.

  "It wasn't supposed to be like that. Everybody was supposed to bend over backwards to make this go away because Hannah was a minor, because she was Fritz Rayburn's granddaughter. It was a great plan considering how fast I had to come up with it when they figured out the fire wasn't an accident." Linda threw her head back and raised her eyes heavenward as if to ask for answers not forgiveness. "Who would have thought they could make a case out of all those little, idiotic things: matches and hair in his bedroom and everything? I almost died when you asked Klein to name eyewitnesses during the bail hearing. Remember that? I figured I was dead right there."

  Linda turned again
. She was staring at Josie with such intense hatred Josie felt it searing into her.

  "And then you made it all so much worse. A plea, Josie. That was all I wanted. Just plead her out, send her to a hospital. She was sick, anyway. A couple of years wouldn't have made a difference. But no, you had to go for it. You had to win. Do you know how hard it was to face my kid everyday knowing that all the promises I'd made her were shit?"

  Linda sniffed and turned up her nose.

  "And she just stood there and took it. Hannah reeked with that damned sanctimonious silence, her unadulterated love, that whole mother/daughter thing. You don't think there was a shit load of guilt there for me?" Linda touched the table, the wall.

  "Then there was you and Hannah. She trusted you, not me. That really hurt, Josie. It truly pissed me off. More than that, it worried me. I thought she'd tell you the truth. I knew you'd come after me if she did that."

  "Then why didn't you tell me the truth? I could have helped you."

  Linda took a deep breath and let it out. She splayed her legs. Josie's eyes went to the shoes. Linda didn't notice.

  "That is a stupid question. Fritz wanted me gone. Hannah thought it was her fault that Fritz was making Kip divorce me, and all the time it was just another little fun activity for Fritz to enjoy. Kip had no patience with Hannah. He resented her. Do you think if I was indicted Kip would hang around? I explained all this to Hannah. She understood."

  "Oh my God. You blamed her for ruining your perfect gig?" Josie managed to sit back on her heels again, ready once more to sprint if she had to.

  "No, dammit!" Linda struck the wall with her fist. "I was telling her the facts of life. The fact is there wouldn't have been any problems in my life if I didn't have her. It took me years to find someone suitable, someone who loved me enough to take me with that kid in tow. I did what I had to do to protect us. I got rid of that damn freak of an old man. I saved myself. I saved Kip. I saved her. I saved all of us. When she was arrested, it was her turn to do what she had to. That's just the way things shook out."

  Linda twirled toward Josie. She fell to the ground, right onto her knees so that they were close enough to feel one another's breath.

  "Hannah was screwed without me and she knew it. If Kip divorced me we'd be back on the street, me sleeping with anything that had enough money to feed us. If Kip stayed with me, and Fritz cut him off, we'd still be back to square one. No money. No prestige. Nothing."

  "Linda, listen to what you're saying," Josie said quietly. "Kip is a lawyer. You wouldn't have been destitute. It never would have come to that."

  Linda's eyes blazed as her face came closer still. She tipped her head as if she might kiss Josie. Instead she pointed out Josie's stupidity slowly, almost sensually.

  "And we wouldn't have been rich." She pulled away. "Kip wouldn't have lasted a minute in a two-bedroom track house with me and Hannah while he got himself situated."

  Josie shook her head, trying to understand what Linda was telling her.

  "Did you ever once think about Hannah?"

  "That's all I did, you bitch," Linda hissed. She threw herself away from Josie and curled up against the wall. "I didn't mean to kill Fritz. I just wanted him to be reasonable. But he laughed at me. He called me names. He told me I was trash. I hit him. He fell. There was blood. After that, I knew it would be more than a divorce if Fritz had his way. He'd prosecute me, and he'd enjoy it. So I tried to cover it up." Linda chuckled a little. She pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and brushed at it. "I guess it didn't surprise me when the cops figured out Fritz hadn't exactly died a natural death, but what did surprise me was Hannah. I thought after a few nights in jail she'd give me up. The stupid little piece of useless baggage loves me. Don't get me wrong I love her, too. I'm not saying the choice was easy. But the closer you got to trying to put this off on Kip, the more I knew it was her or me. That's what it really boiled down to. Just survival. It's always been about that."

  Linda's voice trailed off. She blinked as if she couldn't see clearly any longer.

  "You know, when Hannah was in the hospital I prayed that she would die. Not just for me, but for her, too. She wouldn't have to worry anymore. She wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. Hannah could go to heaven and count angels with God."

  "No, Linda. You wanted Hannah to die because it would be easier for you. She's not the bitch, Linda, but then you've known that all along."

  Before she got the last word out Linda flew forward, hand raised, and slapped Josie, catching her behind the ear. Josie fell to the side, her head hitting a chest of drawers. There was a taste of blood but it was inside her mouth, somewhere she couldn't quite locate. She righted herself. On all fours, Josie let her head hang as she tried to keep still until the room stopped spinning, praying Linda wouldn't hit her again. Her prayers were answered. Linda stood up and walked circles around Josie.

  "You're just as bad as she is. Always passing judgment. Oh, you never said anything when we were in college but that judgmental thing was always there. Just like Hannah. It was in your eyes. In the way you did just the opposite of what I would do. It was always there in the way you wouldn't say things, Josie. Jesus, you two are like nuns. Like martyrs. I hate martyrs."

  Linda was breathing hard. It took a lot of energy to tell her version of the truth. Josie raised her head. The pain behind her eyes was excruciating, the ringing in her ears agonizing, the story fascinating. She closed her eyes and waited, opening them when she felt a touch. Linda had hunkered down and put her fingers under Josie's chin. She was lifting it. Josie saw stars when she tried to yank her face away.

  "Josie," Linda said conversationally, "there just wasn't any choice. What would happen to Hannah if I went to jail? Who would take care of a crazy, half-breed kid like her better than I did? Do you think Kip was going to step up to the plate?"

  "There were other choices, Linda," Josie said. "You could have left Kip."

  Linda barked a laugh. She poked at Josie's shoulder.

  "Oh right, like I was going to leave Kip? I'm forty years old. My looks aren't going to last forever. I'm not a lawyer. How would I have supported Hannah? How would I have paid for all those doctors?"

  "Maybe if you just made a living and loved your kid, she wouldn't need all those doctors," Josie answered back.

  Linda shook her head; her hand was swift, moving in a knife-like, manic gesture, "Still telling me what's best for me and mine. God, do you ever stop?"

  She grew quiet and thoughtful as she fooled with the fingers of her glove. Her brow furrowed.

  "The only thing I feel bad about is Fritz hurting Hannah." She looked up; her gaze seemed sharper than usual. "The funny thing is, if I had known about it Fritz would still be alive. I could have threatened to tell about the abuse; he'd have to stop messing with Hannah and back off the divorce thing. It would have been a damn simple Mexican standoff." Linda pushed Josie, clipping her shoulder. She was so angry. "What in the hell are you looking at? What have you been looking at all this time?"

  Josie's head lolled from side to side. She looked disoriented, confused. She slurred her speech.

  "Your shoes," she managed to say.

  "What about them?"

  Carefully Josie sat back, feigning confusion. Her head still hurt but the nausea caused by Linda's blow was almost gone. Josie reached for the photos, finally finding the one she wanted. Sitting on her heels, Josie handed it to Linda.

  "What is this?"

  "Hannah's footprints outside the door where the fire started," Josie whispered.

  "So?"

  "Her footprints are on top of the ash," Josie said.

  "So?" Linda drew the word out until it sounded like an obscenity.

  "Underneath the ash are indentations." Josie took a deep breath trying to clear her head, disgusted at the simplicity of it all. "Just like the soles of those driving shoes you're wearing. Tod's. Shallow, rounded cleats." Josie swung her head up. She felt a hell of a lot better
now. "You walked into the west wing before the fire started and you walked out before there was ash on the ground. Hannah saw what you did. She walked through the ash into a burning house to save her paintings. You ran away. Hannah could have died in there. You. . . are. . .such. . . . a bitch."

  With that, Josie lunged for Linda's leg and swiped it from beneath her, chopping to the back of her knee. Linda's leg buckled and she let out a cry of surprise and grasped at the side table. The table toppled: the lamp fell. Caught up in it, Linda tried to throw it away but succeeded only in pulling the plug out of the socket.

  In the dark Josie scrambled up, balancing herself on the tips of her fingers. She took the first step in a sprint for the door but the glossy photographs were like black ice. Her front foot slid out from beneath her. Josie landed in a split that sent her sprawling before she tucked into a roll, protecting her head as she hit the doorjamb. A second later she scrambled up, grabbed for the door and pulled herself forward. Behind her, Linda swallowed a bellow of rage.

  Just as determined, Linda charged. A bigger woman, she hit the wall hard with her shoulder but Josie was faster. She threw herself into the living room, lost her balance then righted herself. The sense of triumph didn't last long. Linda was on her, clutching at Josie's leg, pulling hard enough to lay Josie face down and flat. In a second, Linda had Josie's left arm in a lock behind her back. Straddling her, Linda Rayburn leaned over until she was lying on top of Josie, pushing the breath out of her. Linda's cheek was against Josie's hair, her lips near Josie's ear.

  "What are we going to do now, Josie?" Linda pulled harder, wrenching Josie's arm until it felt like it was being pulled from its socket.

  "Don't be stupid, Linda." Josie huffed, barely able to breathe much less speak. "You've left enough trace evidence in this place to make a case."

  "And so has that idiot, Miggy. He'll be the first one they go after if I kill you. Your friend Archer will back me up, won't he? Bet he knows Miggy was here. My fingerprints aren't on anything but I'd bet a million that his are. I'd bet. . ."