Whispers in the Wind

by Veronica Giolli

  As Chief Thomas ran out Jesse’s front door he saw Eva in her car, collapsed over the steering wheel.

  “What the hell happened here? The one in the house is still alive.” He shouted to the ambulance driver. “Hurry! I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

  One paramedic stopped at Eva’s car as the other two ran into the house. Another officer on the scene took charge of Eva. “Got a DOS here,” he hollered. “Dead on site.”

  Patrol cars were parked zigzag in the yard. More sirens approached. Patrolmen hollered, sirens blared. Eva’s car pungent with gunpowder and fresh blood.

  Chief Thomas put a call in to the coroner while the paramedics pushed the gurney carrying Jesse into the ambulance. The chief had the other officers finish up with the tragic scene. For a second time in just a few weeks the area around the Wilson home was cordoned off. The yard and house swarmed with Reno and tribal police.

  Stunned neighbors stood in the road outside Jesse’s house gawking and mumbling.

  “What happened?”

  “Oh my God. Not again.”

  “Looks like a double shooting this time.”

  “Murder-suicide?”

  “Looks like.”

  “Wonder who did what to who.”

  The ambulance drove with sirens blaring all the way to Washoe County Hospital. Jesse had trouble breathing while the paramedic worked to stop the hemorrhaging. The other paramedic hooked Jesse up to an IV and took his vitals.

  “Hey, buddy, stay with me. Stay with me now.”

  “I can’t feel anything. Listen … I’m not … going to … make it. Get me the chief. I got … I … killed …” He passed out.

  The paramedic notified the police and Chief Thomas. He and another officer were waiting when the ambulance arrived at the hospital. Jesse awoke for a moment to talk to the chief as he walked beside the gurney. As they rushed Jesse into surgery, he made a full confession. “Chief … I got mad … came back … held her … arm down … used my rifle … cut letter … tore up … pushed Sunny … Sorry.”

  Back at the Tribal office, the chief dispatched someone to Jesse’s mother to notify her of her son’s bullet wound and his full confession.

  Sunny, her family, and Victor were digging into their fresh-baked pineapple upside-down cake when someone knocked on the door. They looked at each other in dread. Barry looked at the clock: 11:12 p.m. “Kind’a late for visitors.”

  Rita pushed away from the table to answer the door.

  “I’m Chief Thomas. Are Mr. and Mrs. Davis here?”

  She nodded. “Come in.”

  Sunny and Barry, along with Victor, came into the living room. watching the chief. “Why don’t all you folks sit down?”

  “Did you arrest Eva?” demanded Sunny.

  “No.”

  Sunny glared at him, still standing. “What? Why the hell not?”

  He held up his hand. “Please. Just sit, Mrs. Davis, and listen.” He looked around the room before announcing, “Eva Marshall shot Jesse.”

  Sunny gasped. “And you didn’t arrest her?! What the—”

  Rita asked, “Is he dead?”

  “Please. Everyone, sit down and let me finish.” He waited while they took their seats. “Eva shot Jesse. The officer heard her say, ‘I loved him and I killed him.’ Then she shot and killed herself.”

  Sunny put her hands to her open mouth and gawked at the chief. Victor put his arms around Rita. Barry hung his head.

  “That’s not all. Jesse’s in surgery right now. At Washoe County Hospital. It doesn’t look good. But he made a confession. He killed Gina.”

  Sunny and Rita shouted, “No!”

  Sunny asked, “How could he have killed her? Why?”

  Chief Thomas looked at the group. “He just said he was mad at her. From what I understand, he came in through the field behind the house, when everyone else had gone. He said she wrote him a letter. She told him she might as well be dead as stay with him. He said, ‘That can be arranged.’ So he held her down and shoved the gun under her chin. You were right, Mrs. Davis. He did cut off the bottom of the letter so it would look like a suicide note. As for the break-in at your house … it was him. He was looking for those little bits of papers. He’s the one who pushed you down that night and him that stunk of cheap perfume.”

  “No, I wasn’t right. It was Jesse.” Sunny wiped her wet face. “I thought Eva did it.”

  Victor was holding a sobbing Rita. “I did too,” she said.

  “Eva did do things to you. Both of you. She admitted it to Jesse. I guess she thought she was helping him. But she didn’t kill her sister. She thought she’d killed Jesse, and that, we assume from her last words, is why she killed herself.”

  Victor spoke up. “All this tragedy for something that wasn’t necessary.”

  “Yeah,” Barry chimed in. He shook his head. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. That fits Eva to a T. Jesse dumped her for Gina and, all those years later, he paid the price for it.”

  Sunny nodded, then looked at the chief. “Can we visit him … Rita and me? Just for a few minutes.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” asked Barry. “Leave it be.”

  “I have to ask him why. I have to know, for my own peace of mind.” And Gina’s. Sunny looked at Chief Thomas. “And now Gina’s poor boys end up with no parents.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I don’t know if it’s allowed. He’s just out of surgery. We’ll have to see how he’s doing. Do you want me to call you here tonight? We can wait and see what happens in the morning.”

  Sunny glanced at everyone in the room. “No, we’ll be up. Please call us tonight. We’re not far from the hospital. Hopefully, we can go on over tonight.”

  A couple hours later, Rita answered the phone, then relayed the conversation to the others. “Chief Thomas said it’s okay for me and Mom to go, but only for a few minutes. His condition is critical. He’s out of surgery and in recovery, stable but still critical. He’s in ICU. The doctors don’t know yet about his prognosis. It’s touch and go. They’ll have to keep a close eye on him for the next twenty-four hours.”

  When they got to ICU, Sunny and Rita thanked Jesse’s mom for letting them go in. She was there with the boys. Sunny and Rita were allowed only five minutes.

  He lay on the bed, hooked up to an IV that was going to two monitors, one with green lights going back and forth across the screen and beeping, the other connected to the nurses’ station.

  He had tubes in his nose and abdomen, a heart monitor beside his bed. He looked pale. His long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Despite everything, he was still a good-looking man.

  Tearful, Rita touched his hand. Sunny called his name. He moved his head toward her.

  “I’m … sorry,” he whispered, then coughed and winced.

  Sunny looked down at this helpless man, surprised at her lack of sympathy. “How could you be so selfish? Did you even think about the boys? You took away their mother and now their father. If you’re lucky enough to live through this, you’ll spend the rest of your life in a federal penitentiary.”

  His eyes were filled with pain.

  “Tell me, Jesse, why? That’s all I want to know. Why?”

  “She was … was leaving me,” he gasped, then moaned. “She wanted … a divorce …” He grimaced. “No one leaves me … I do the leaving.”

  “You heartless, egotistical son of a bitch.” She wanted to punch him in the stomach, where it’d do the most good. Her hand had balled itself into a fist. She forced her fingers to straighten and her hand to relax.

  The door swung open and the nurse came in. Their time was up.

  The drive back to Rita’s was quiet. Barry had packed for the trip home. He and Victor were deep in conversation when Sunny and Rita returned and the subject changed to the latest events and revelations.

  Sunny looked down at her cup. “You know, I never liked Eva at all, and at times I hated Jesse, but I never wanted this to happen.”

&
nbsp; Barry’s hand covered hers to comfort her.

  Rita said, “On the way home I was thinking that maybe later I’ll sell my shop and move to San Francisco. Victor’s got me thinking about going to law school. The girls at the salon want to go in together and buy my place. With everything that’s happened, and you both gone, I don’t want to stay here.”

  “What about Victor?” asked Sunny.

  Victor leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, what about me?”

  “You’re my one good thing. We talked about this. He could transfer to PG&E and work in the Bay Area.” She smiled at him. “He could take night classes at law school.”

  Sunny took her daughter’s hands. “It’s way too soon to make big decisions like that. This has been a shock to all of us. Wait awhile. Think about it, you can always do it later, or not.”

  “I think we’re leaving you in good hands.” Barry looked over at Victor.

  Victor kissed Rita on the cheek.

  Sunny smiled and looked at them. “On that note, we’re going to bed. It’s been one helluva day.”

  Victor got up and, holding Rita’s hand, walked to the front door.

  “I’ll say my good night,” he whispered. “After your parents go back home, if you happen to be scared here by yourself, I’ll come over and keep you company. You know, just for protection.” He grinned.

  Rita kissed him and playfully hit him in the shoulder. “Maybe.” She turned around smiling and saw Sunny and Barry, hand in hand, watching from the hallway and grinning.

  Late the next morning Barry and Sunny prepared to leave. The phone rang and Rita grabbed it. “What!” … “No.” … “Okay, thank you.” She hung her head and slowly put the receiver in its cradle. She looked at her mom and dad with watery eyes. “That was Chief Thomas. Jesse’s dead. Died last night, not long after we left.”

  “Are you all right? Do you want us to stay a little longer?” asked Barry.

  “No, I’m fine. It just took me back a bit. He’s not the friend, or person, I thought he was.”

  “Rita, why don’t you call Gerald? He needs to know what’s happened. Ask Victor to come over. I’ll feel better if you’re not alone.”

  Barry looked at Rita, nodded, and winked. “Gerald should know about Eva. By the way, Rita, I’m fine with you and the Gerald thing. Don’t think it hurts my feelings because it doesn’t.”

  She nodded at him and smiled, then turned her attention to Sunny. “Mom, I dreamed of Gina last night. It was a weird dream. Victor was in it. I was there. Gina was a whirling blur, but she was smiling. She was swaying back and forth. She said goodbye.”

  “See, you’re starting to be able to have dreams, like me and my mother,” said Sunny.

  Rita looked at her parents. “Wow! That is way cool. I didn’t think it’d happen to me.”

  Sunny’s eyes misted over. “I had the same dream, except for the Victor part. In my dream, I felt like I was wide awake, sitting on the end of the bed with her. We talked. She sat looking at me, her long hair flowing over her shoulder. But now I can’t remember what we talked about. She was happy. She could finally start her journey and follow Grandfather Spirit to the next world. I pulled her close and we said goodbye. I also feel at peace.”

  “Wow,” Rita said. “That was a great dream.”

  “There’s more. The window was open partway and a breeze came in. As I looked at her she started to fade. Her hair blew around her face. She was smiling, and her arms reached out to me. A strong breeze came, lifting her and carrying her up. She faded more and more. And then she was gone.”

  “Man, that was a wonderful send-off,” Barry said.

  “When I woke up, I saw in the mirror that tears had dried on my cheeks.” I said, “Goodbye, my friend. I’ll always carry you in my heart. I hope my love will reach you, Gina. Let Grandfather Spirit embrace you in love.”

  Barry reached for the bags. “Does she know Jesse shot her?”

  Sunny grabbed her small suitcase. “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t matter.” They walked out the door. “As soon as it was solved, her journey began.”

  Rita walked them to the car. “I’m going to miss you. Maybe I’ll see you soon.”

  “Take your time. I’ll miss you too,” said Sunny.

  “Don’t rush anything. Come visit anytime.”

  Sunny wrapped her arms around Rita. “Gina is at peace. She can move on. We can all move on. She can let Grandfather Spirit take her and continue her journey. She’ll be wrapped in the love of her ancestors. I always believed what Chief Suquamish said: ‘There is no death, only a change of worlds.’”

  Sitting in the car, Sunny wiped her face. “My hurt I will tuck away in its own spot. I’ll go on with my life, but I will never heal from this pain.”

  Oh, Gina, now you’re gone from me. Now my ache begins.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing was a long, slow process, helped greatly by the encouragement of the following people, to whom I am forever grateful:

  My mentor, teacher, editor and friend, Carol Petersen Purroy. She had the foresight to keep me going.

  Writers Unanimous, my first critique group: Mary Lee Fulkerson, Betty Johnson, Vonda Novelly, Audrey Cournia, Karen DeRocco, Celeste León, Marie Edwards, Helen Stevens, and Carol Purroy.

  My critique classmates, whom I adore and from whom I have learned so much: my teacher, Janice Stevens, and fellow class members Linda Gannaway, Earlene Holquin, Bev Horsley, Hank Palmer, Gus Knittle, Tom Morton, Don Farris, David Elkin, Pat Shanley, Franz Weinschenk, Robert Eiland, Linda Robertson, Sue Bonner Martin, Courtney Webb, Joan Newcomb, David Creighton, and Jocelyn Speiser. And our member whom we loved and lost, Chuck Soley, R.I.P.

  Thanks also to Larry Schram for his major help.

  Writing is a solitary business and without help it can be very difficult. My thanks to CJ Collins, my mentor and friend, who was there for me daily these last years.

  Special thanks go to my good friend, Rita Marie Betance, who read, reread, and re-reread page after page after page. She was kind enough to let me use her name for one of my main characters.

  Not to be forgotten is Helen Ulrich, who always made me feel good about my book.

  Finally, I want to thank my son, Leeland McMasters, for supplying the beautiful cover art.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Veronica Giolli’s mystery stories have previously appeared in The Poison Pen. She was a founding member of Writers of the Purple Sage Publishing Consortium in Reno, Nevada. While living on a reservation Giolli acquired firsthand knowledge of tribal customs and spiritual practices. This in part provided the inspiration to write Whispers in the Wind. Giolli lives in California’s Central Valley.