On the Other Side

by Michelle Janine Robinson

  “I’m with you,” Constance said reluctantly.

  “First, we’re going to find out where that bastard of an ex-husband of yours is.”

  Damita combed the Internet looking for any information on Constance’s ex-husband, Jack Somersby. She also searched Neal Westman, but found no reports of his murder. She then searched her own name, Damita Whitmore and Damita Westman. Finally, she searched Constance’s maiden name, Sandra Jones, and her married name, Sandra Somersby. The only thing she found of any significance was an address for Jack Somersby in Oakland, California. She decided she would turn the tables on him. She wrote a cryptic note of her own. Damita’s note read I know what you are. She put the note in an envelope, sealed the enveloped, addressed it to Jack Somersby, and waited. Constance tried to stop her.

  “Damita, I don’t think you should do that. It will make things worse.”

  “Constance, that’s your fear talking. That is exactly what men like Jack Somersby count on. They want that fear to sink in and take hold because they know that even when those they victimize are far from their grasp, they can still have hold of their minds. You don’t want to be one of those women. You’re too smart for that. Don’t let him win.”

  “Okay,” Constance agreed quietly.

  Damita watched as Constance dissolved from an energetic, vivacious woman into a frightened and withdrawn child. She was nineteen all over again and waiting for Jack Somersby to tell her what to do.

  The next thing Damita decided to do was to find out about the mysterious man in the Towers. All along she had held him up as a hero and a savior. She wondered if there was more to him than she was aware of. She couldn’t help but remember that Neal had gone to the great lengths of hiring someone to rape her, when she didn’t do exactly what he wanted her to. Was is so far a stretch to believe that the man who saved her was actually there to do her harm and got caught up in the tragedy of the terrorist attack? Otherwise, why would he be keeping tabs on her from a distance? It didn’t make any sense. She wondered if he was the one leaving the notes; but why? If he had been hired by Neal and Neal was now dead, what need would he have to continue with what he was doing?

  Even though Damita was talking strength and power and fighting back, she still didn’t like the idea of a gun in the house. Once Lester heard all Damita had to say, he was convinced that having a gun around was a necessity.

  Even though Damita had stopped working overtime, one night they were short-staffed and her supervisor explained to her that she basically had to do it. Damita was angry, but she needed the job and she didn’t have the time or the energy to look for another. So, she worked late and dragged herself home sometime around ten o’clock. The late hours brought back memories; some good and some bad.

  As soon as she walked in the apartment she knew something was wrong. It was nothing she could immediately put her finger on but she was apprehensive upon entering. When she was finally inside the apartment, she called the Lester.

  “Lester, honey, it’s Damita. I’m home!”

  He didn’t answer her. She wondered if he might have gone out, but knew that he would not have gone out without telling her, especially given everything that was going on. She went into the bedroom and Lester was laid out on the bed with a gunshot wound to his head.

  Damita’s face screwed up into a pained express. She screamed an agonizing cry.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she kept saying.

  She tried to perform CPR but he was already dead. She held on to him, rocking his body back and forth, hoping it was all a bad dream. She would have to call Constance eventually but, for now, she had to figure out whether she should call the police or not.

  “Constance, something bad has happened.”

  “What’s wrong with Lester? Tell me, Damita, what’s wrong with Lester!”

  “Constance, he was shot in the head. He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

  “He’s dead, Constance. He’s dead.”

  “I’m coming now. I’ll be there in a few minutes. We have to take him to the hospital. He can’t be dead. He can’t be.”

  Constance arrived, walked into the bedroom and collapsed on top of her brother’s body. Damita watched as the tears and pain she was feeling convulsed her body. She jerked back and forth, having lost control of her movements.

  Damita watched Constance, realizing she could never understand the bond between a brother and sister, let alone twins. She hoped that her presence in their lives hadn’t caused the cycle of events that eventually led to Lester’s death. Damita soon realized Constance must have been thinking the exact same thing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “You did this! I told you not to! I told you not to send that note to Jack, but you did it anyway. You killed my brother. You killed Lester. Now I’m all alone because of you!”

  Damita looked at Constance pleadingly. “Constance, I just sent the letter. It couldn’t possibly have even gotten to California yet. This wasn’t me. I promise you this was not me.”

  That night, Damita removed all evidence that she had been living with Lester, and Constance called the police to report that he had been shot. They asked her dozens of questions that Constance was ill-equipped or plain afraid to answer. She was still angry with Damita, but she realized she needed her. She knew that Damita loved her brother and that she would have never intentionally hurt either of them so she tried her very best to rein in her anger and instead concentrate on figuring out who killed her brother. There was so much she didn’t feel she could tell the police so the chance of them finding the killer was slim to none. She knew that instead of fighting Damita, she would have to work together toward their common goal.

  Back at Constance’s place, Damita had that familiar feeling of walking on eggshells.

  “I’m sorry, Damita. I was out of my head with grief when I saw my brother laying there with a gunshot wound in his head. I didn’t know what I was saying. None of this is your fault. Please forgive me.”

  “No forgiveness necessary. Neither of us have done anything to warrant needing forgiveness. It’s those who hurt us and Lester that will need to beg forgiveness.”

  “What’s next?” Constance asked.

  “We are going to need to find out if indeed Jack was here and who this man is that I keep seeing. He followed me here tonight. I kept waiting for him to come in or try to approach me in some way but he always stands, staring at me from a distance. I’m sure it’s the same man that helped me out of the Towers on nine-eleven; that’s why all of this makes even less sense. Why would he save me and risk his own life, only to try and harm me?”

  “Maybe you’ve got this all wrong. Maybe the man that helped you out of the Towers is not trying to harm you. Maybe he’s trying to save you.”

  “Save me from what? Neal is dead and the police seem to have never tried to locate me. I searched all over the Internet to see if they were searching for his killer and I found nothing. A week after I killed him, I was still in New York. I stayed locked up in that musty motel room and all I had to do was watch television. I watched every news channel I could find, half expecting to see a wanted poster with my name and face on it.”

  Constance looked at Damita as if she was solving a puzzle. “Damita, this sounds crazy, but are you absolutely sure you killed him?”

  “Of course I killed him. I was in that apartment with that body for hours. He was absolutely, positively dead. The entire room was covered with his blood. I hit him with that iron so many times, my own arm hurt when I was done. There is no way Neal Westman survived that. And, if he had survived, I surely would have realized that before I left the apartment.”

  “Damita, you should do a bit more research. Something tells me if you dig deep enough you’ll find what you’re looking for. In the meantime, I’m going to the library to do my own research. I need to know exactly where Jack Somersby really is.”

  For several days neither Constance nor Damita went to work.
They were given time off to make arrangements for Lester, but that was not what the two women were using the time for. Instead, they were trying to save each of their lives. They didn’t have Lester to protect either of them anymore and the only people they knew they could trust was each other.

  Damita decided she would pay very close attention to her mysterious stalker. She wondered if Constance might be right and instead of following her to do her harm, he really was there to save her. If that were the case, she hoped he would reveal his intentions sooner rather than later, because Damita was sick and tired of being sick and tired. She hadn’t asked for any of it, but she was now fully prepared to end all of it. She was tired of running and hiding and missing her family and friends. She was sure she had killed Neal. She considered whether going back and dealing with the backlash of what she had done was better than the way she was now living. Sure, she had met Constance and Lester and until now they were enjoying a good life, but she knew better than anyone that the sins of the past followed you for the rest of your days, unless and until you confronted them. That was what she was prepared to do now. She was going to confront not only her sins, but the sins of those who had an impact on her life.

  Constance was at the library again and Damita found that with each passing day the mysterious stranger got closer and closer to her, especially when Constance wasn’t around. Damita hadn’t told Constance that she had a gun because she knew that she wouldn’t like knowing there was a gun in her house. Damita looked toward the window and she saw him standing directly outside. Just as quickly as she saw him out the window, she prepared herself to go and ask him who he was and what he wanted. She didn’t need to. Suddenly, he was inside the apartment.

  Damita frowned. “How did you get in here?” she asked.

  He seemed devoid of emotion. “That’s not important. You don’t have much time. You must be prepared for what’s to come. It’s all part of your destiny. Follow the path laid out for you and you will find your peace.”

  “What destiny? What path? What are you talking about? None of what you’re saying makes any sense.”

  Damita was holding the gun in her hand prepared to use it. She had first thought he was her greatest threat, but now she wasn’t quite so sure. There was something else going on here that she didn’t quite understand.

  While Damita was trying to make sense of what she had seen and heard, Constance was leaving the library. Someone was following her as well. It was Jack Somersby and this time he was intent on making his presence known. What he didn’t know is that Constance already knew he was there. She turned around and confronted him.

  “What do you want, Jack?”

  “My beautiful bride, I want what I’ve always wanted. I want you, of course.”

  “That ship has sailed. I’m done with being bruised, afraid and helpless. You will never hurt me again. I was young when you married me. I thought you were such a handsome and distinguished gentleman. How was I to know that it takes more than clothes and a tiny bit of wisdom to make the man?

  “I’m going to walk away from you and you will never contact me again. Otherwise, I’ll take matters into my own hands. You’re very old, Jack; even older than when we first met. This time it’ll be me chasing you and you won’t be running near as quickly as before. Do you understand me? It would mean nothing to me to end you right now. I hate you more than anything or anyone I’ve ever known. I am going to bury my brother and you will stay away from me or I will use every resource available from police, to simply killing you myself, to get you out of my life. I’m finally going to live.”

  “Don’t you want to know how I found you?”

  “Not really.”

  “I think you do. The information I have could save your friend’s life.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Recently, I was contacted by a man who said he had tracked down his wife. He told me she had tried to kill him two years ago. He was intent on doing her harm and seemed to think that I would be the perfect man to assist him toward that end. He believed the two of us had a lot in common and that we could help one another.”

  “Which one of you killed my brother?” Constance asked.

  “It wasn’t me, so I assume it must have been Neal Westman.”

  “So he is alive? I tried to tell Damita but she was so convinced she had killed him. I have to warn her.”

  Constance tried her best to get to Damita and it seemed as though every effort made was impeded by something or someone. Finally, she realized she would have to call Damita and let her know. Her cell phone was dead so she looked for a payphone. Just as she was about to give up on finding a quarter, a man appeared out of nowhere with one in hand.

  “Is this what you need?” the man asked.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Damita went back to Lester’s place, since the crime scene tape had been removed. She wasn’t there five minutes when the phone rang.

  “Damita, you’ve got to get out of there. Neal is not dead.”

  “Huh, Constance? I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

  The phone went dead.

  While Damita stared at the phone, wondering what happened, out of the shadows stepped the same man she believed she had killed. Neal Westman was very much alive.

  “Did you really think you could get away from me that easily?”

  Damita was in shock. “How? Why? Was it you? Were you the one that sent the notes?”

  Neal laughed. It was that same laugh she heard the day she thought she killed him.

  He looked around the apartment, smiling. She couldn’t believe this was a man she had ever loved. Standing in front of her now, she saw him for all that he was and all that he had ever been. The pompous demeanor, the posturing; it was Neal through and through.

  “Nice digs, but definitely a step down from our Upper West Side condo. I sold it, you know? I couldn’t stand living there after you left. Everything in it reminded me of you. You can stop looking at me like I’m a ghost. I’m not. I almost was, but not quite. I don’t remember much. I was told that I was in a coma for almost a year. You really did a number on me. Things are still kind of fuzzy. However, I do remember an iron and a lot of blood.”

  Each time Neal walked closer to Damita, she stepped back.

  He smiled. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I don’t hold a grudge. I came back to get what belongs to me.”

  Damita stared at him confused. “What is that?”

  “You, of course.”

  “Neal, I don’t belong to you. I never have and I never will.”

  “You’re still my wife.”

  “I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

  “You certainly have. I’ve got to tell you. I’m impressed. I always believed you were weak; a whining, sniveling thing that didn’t deserve my respect. I must say I’ve changed my thoughts on that. If it weren’t for the fact that I lost an entire year of my life, I would be quite amused with all of this.”

  “By the way, what has happened to you since you moved here? Are you completely devoid of manners? It must have something to do with you living with those hillbillies. I’ve been here almost fifteen minutes and you haven’t offered me a drink or even a seat.”

  “That’s because you’re not my guest.”

  “I’m going to sit down anyway. You see, these days I can’t stand for very long. Do you want to hear the list of my afflictions? I’m sure you noticed the limp. In addition to my limp, I also lost my sense of smell and therefore a small portion of my ability to taste. I have partial hearing loss in my right ear, balance problems and constant headaches. I also find it difficult to concentrate on anything for too long a period of time. That’s why finding you has been a godsend. I executed your discovery with such precision and for the first time since I’ve been out of the coma, I was able to focus on one thing and stick to it. You motivated me to get past my handicaps. However, I agree with you. Technically, I’m not a guest. You and I both know you’ve nev
er considered me anything more than an annoyance. So, it makes sense that considering me a guest would be a stretch. What about Lester? Was he a guest?”

  “How long have you been watching me?”

  “I’ve been watching you for quite some time.”

  “So, why now? Why did you decide to show yourself now?”

  “I wanted to toy with you for a while. However, the game started to get boring. Besides, I had no intention of standing by while you played house with some loser. I mean really, Damita, that guy is so beneath you. That was your choice after me? When I saw you with him, I was embarrassed for you.”

  Damita’s face saddened. “He was a good man. I’m glad he was nothing like you. He was there for me from the moment I met him until the day you killed him.”

  Neal smirked. “I see you figured out that was me. You’re smarter than I give you credit for.”

  “That’s the first thing you’ve said to me that I agree with. Once you’re gone and I can truly get on with my life I plan on embracing that fact so much more. Thanks to Lester, I also finally know what real love looks like. He showed me something that will stay with me the rest of my life and hopefully it will keep me from making a mistake like you ever again.”

  Neal laughed loudly.

  “What’s so funny?” Damita asked.

  “You honestly think after all I’ve been through I’m going to give up that easily? This time it’s for keeps, doll face.”

  It was Damita’s turn to laugh.

  “I’d rather die than spend even a day with you. I had a good life before I met you. I don’t know why I couldn’t see that or why I felt you were the person that was going to make that life so much better. But, I did, I had a good life. I had people who truly loved me. You represent the only thing that was ever wrong with my life. I will never be with you. The thought of it makes my stomach turn.”

  “Don’t worry, Damita, there will be plenty of time for that.”

  Neal got up and started walking toward her. He was surprised to see her stand her ground. She didn’t cringe or cry and looked him directly in the eyes. That’s when she noticed the left side of his face. She smiled.