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Authors: Fern Michaels

Plain Jane (37 page)

BOOK: Plain Jane
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Jane looked around. The room was still the same. Damn, why was that? She'd actually done something momentous, and nothing changed. She was finally going to get some justice for Connie Bryan.
“Guess you're the only one left, Prentice. I want to tell you that I think you are the scum of the earth. It's all over. You really thought you were going to get away with it, didn't you? A diagram? You made a
diagram
? Mister, you are one sick, sorry, son of a bitch. I hope you realize there's no way out of this for you. When Pete and Ben get done with you, they'll have you at the scene of the crime. They'll probably say you were lurking in the bushes shouting instructions. For your information, Article 571.1 says there is no time limit on aggravated rape or aggravated sexual battery. Your lawyer will know the article numbers. Go on, get your sorry ass out of here before I boot it all the way to Baton Rouge.”
“There goes a piss-poor excuse for a man,” Trixie said, popping a bottle of Corona. She handed it to Jane. She took a long pull from her own bottle before she said, “You did it, Janie. You pulled it off. I have to admit I had a few bad moments there for a while. The man actually made a diagram. That's the sickest thing I've ever heard in my life.”
“I had a lot of bad moments,” Jane said. “I feel like I've been to war and back. I thought I was going to feel good, but for some reason, I don't. I don't know what I feel. At the very least, I should be feeling relief that I finally, finally, had the guts to bring this all to a head. Maybe tomorrow will be different. What do you think the outcome will be, Trixie?”
“It will go to court. Everyone will cut deals. It will make the papers no matter how they try to keep it quiet. As far as punishment goes, I don't know, Janie. If this was a book and I was writing this particular ending, I'd have Todd Prentice cash in whatever he had in his name and split. Don't be surprised if that happens. I just don't know, Jane. For you, it's over. I think your friend Connie can rest in peace now.”
“I hope so.”
“If you help me load up my dogs, I think I'll head home. My fella is waiting to hear the outcome of this little party we had. Sleep tight, baby.”
“I'm too wired to sleep. I think I'll sit here and do nothing. Just me and Olive. Mike might call later. I miss him. You don't think any of them will come back here, do you?”
Trixie laughed. “You are the last person on this earth that they ever want to see again. Trust me on that one.”
“Thanks, Trixie,” Jane said, herding the dogs into the van. “See you tomorrow.”
Trixie waved, sounded the horn, then roared off across the field.
19
Spring came to Rayne, Louisiana, the same way it did every year. The lion had roared briefly, but the gentle lamb had somehow managed to win out by sheer perseverance. Gentle rains had fallen for days on end, followed by long, lazy days of warm, golden sunshine. The perfect mix of rain and sun were just what the earth needed to bring it back to life.
This year the flowers appeared more lush, more plentiful, and incredibly fragrant. The perennial flower beds were alive with color and growth, a perfect background for the fifty-gallon magnolia tree Jane had planted over Billy Jensen's grave. Jane stared now at the magnificence of the tree, at the huge, emerald, waxy leaves that already created a shady resting place for the young boy's remains.
Spring is always a time of new beginnings,
Jane thought. When the rains started to fall, she'd spent hours on the back porch thinking and planning. In the end, she came to the conclusion that the rains had a cleansing effect not only on the land and gardens but on her heart as well. Billy was right. You have to let it go, he'd said. That meant letting go of all her old hatred and insecurities where her mother was concerned.
Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.
How many times had she said those very same words to her patients? Hundreds. And when they'd asked how, she'd answered “forgive them.”
Jane sipped from her coffee cup, her third so far this morning. She liked watching the sun come up and loved sitting in her nightgown on the back steps with Olive. This was her favorite time of day, when things weren't yet under way. A time when she could still make a decision and know she could either carry it through or cancel it out. A precious time. A private time.
She leaned back against one of the pillars that supported the roof and closed her eyes.
Let it all go, Jane. Forgive and forget. You're starting a new life soon. Don't carry even an ounce of your old baggage into your marriage with Mike. Just open your heart and let it all go.
Jane stared out across the garden. It was the second day of April, over two months since she'd hosted the meeting with Connie Bryan's attackers. Two long months since she'd turned over the pictures, the computer disks, and the paper bag containing Connie's belongings to her lawyer, who in turn handed them over to the police.
After the initial flurry of newspaper articles and the daily five-minute segments on the local news, things had died down. They reared up again when indictments came down. Things had heated up even more the day Connie's parents came to town and gave interviews to anyone interested in hearing their story. They'd even stopped by her house and thanked her by giving her a needlepoint pillow Connie had made the summer before she died.
It was over. She'd handed over the evidence, given her deposition, and as far as she was concerned, she'd done all she could do. She had even come to terms with the fact that she'd broken her promise to Connie. Sometimes the end did justify the means. Just yesterday Trixie had asked her if she knew what was happening with Brian and Pete and the rest of them. Other than knowing they were all out on bail, Jane didn't know anything else; nor did she care to know. It was out of her hands, and her life was going to go on no matter what happened to them.
Her coffee cup was empty. That meant it was time to go indoors and get ready for work. After today there would be a thirty-day period of doing nothing but paperwork until the next wave of dogs arrived. She was going to use those same thirty days to prepare for her wedding at the end of June.
She looked down at Olive. Ever-loyal, ever-faithful Olive. “I bet if we really try, we can be ready and at work in forty-five minutes, give or take the eight minutes it takes to get to Trixie's house. You up for a little hustle and bustle, Olive old girl?”
“Woof.”
Jane was about to set her replenished coffee cup down on the night table, only to realize there was no space. Next to the lamp, nestled between the digital clock and a picture of her and Mike, was a lavender, double blossom azalea bloom. Beside it was Jeeter's ball. Jane whirled around. “Billy! Jeeter!” She searched the room but didn't see them. “Olive, are they here?”
Olive pawed at the burlap ball until it fell on the floor. She picked it up and carried it over to her bed.
Jane picked up the delicate bloom. It was perfect in every detail and incredibly fresh. Why didn't azaleas have a scent? Something so gorgeous should have a heady, intoxicating fragrance. “I think Billy likes what we did, and this is his way of thanking us,” Jane said. Olive cocked her head to the side as if to say, “so you finally believe.” “I know, I know. I was a doubting Thomas, but I'm a believer now. I just wish I hadn't called him a spook.”
Jane headed for the bathroom, the azalea bloom still in her hand. She rinsed out the glass she used to gargle with, filled it with water, and carried it back to the bedroom, where she set it down next to the picture of her and Mike standing by the newly planted magnolia tree. “Thanks, Billy,” she whispered.
A short while later Jane stopped the car at the gates to the McGuire farm. “Told you, Olive, fifty-one minutes flat. I should have been an accountant since I'm so good with numbers. Bean counters are boring, though. It just means I'm punctual. Let's see what Trixie has on deck for us today.” Jane held the car door open for Olive.
A cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, coffee cup in hand, feet propped on a chair, Trixie beckoned for Jane to sit down. Today she was attired in her favorite going-to-the-police-station outfit, a leopard print jumpsuit.
“You look like you're going somewhere, Trixie.”
“I'm taking Flash and Golda down to the station to see the guys. We've been working round the clock, and they need a day off. Olive is welcome to come. We're going to Burger King for lunch. I miss John and the dogs already, and they only left yesterday,” she went on. “I hope we made wise decisions where their handlers are concerned.”
“Trixie, you gave them the third degree, you had them investigated out the kazoo, and you threatened them with castration. You told them in gory detail how bloody they would be if one of those dogs got so much as a scratch. I don't think you have to worry about the dogs.”
Trixie's feet slapped down on the kitchen floor. She looked around at the messy kitchen. “Why do you suppose I never got a housekeeper, Janie?”
“You didn't want anyone underfoot, and you were afraid if you did get one that she might ferret out your secret.”
“Tell Fred it's his turn to clean up. Don't do it for him. He's getting lazy where his chores are concerned. I mean it, Janie.”
“Okay, okay. When I finish entering everything into the computer, do you mind if I take the rest of the morning off? I want to look for a wedding dress. Time is flying by, and I haven't done much yet.”
“Take as much time as you want. The only thing that's imperative is the paperwork for the dogs' shields.”
“I'll finish it up this morning and take everything to the post office on my way. Have a good day, Trixie.”
“You, too, sweetie. Let's haul ass, gang!” Trixie shouted as she opened the screen door. Jane laughed the whole time she was cleaning up the kitchen.
 
 
Jane sat in her car in front of her parents' old house and stared at it. She wondered where she'd gotten the idea that destroying it would give her the peace she longed for. Obviously, she hadn't been thinking rationally at the time. A house was just a house: wood, drywall, and shingles.
She'd signed the escrow papers two weeks ago, done her walk-through with the realtor, and hadn't come back since. She stared at the house, trying to block out all the bad memories. The past was gone, and she'd promised herself she was going to let it go. Now was the time to keep her promise and now was the time to make peace with her mother.
First, though, she needed to call Mike. When she heard his voice, the tension left her shoulders. She leaned back and relaxed. “Hey, it's me. Whatcha doing?”
“I was sitting here thinking about you as I eat my lunch, which, by the way, is three hours late. Before you can ask, it's an apple and a yogurt. Where are you?”
“Sitting in my car in front of my parents' house. You'll be pleased to know I found a wedding dress this morning, so it's okay for us to get married now. It's not fancy or anything, but I like it. It just goes to my ankles, kind of
cocktailish
if you know what I mean. And a veil and shoes. I'm good to go.”
“That's great. See? You were dithering over nothing. I knew you'd find just what you wanted. Hell, you could wear burlap and that funky hat, and it would be okay with me. I miss you, Jane. We haven't seen each other for three days.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Mine. This is what happens when you allow yourself to get personally involved. Your time is no longer your own. It really is a great feeling, though. By the way, Willie is only packing one D cell battery these days. The hypnosis is working. He says he carries it now for good luck only. I'm okay with that, and so is he. I figure I can cut him loose after a few more sessions. You wouldn't believe the change in him. He sent a fruit basket to the office.”
Jane watched a group of children playing stickball in the middle of the road. “That's great, Mike. I'm glad it all worked out. What was the trauma?”
“He was watching television one night and there was a kid in a wheelchair who lost control and rolled down a hill and into a pond. In the movie the child died. That's it in a nutshell.”
“That'll do it. Mike, a strange thing happened this morning. Tell me what you think.” Jane rattled off the early-morning episode with the azalea bloom.
“I get goose bumps just hearing about it,” Mike said. “Does this make you a believer now?”
“More or less. I was thinking about Billy while I was drinking my coffee on the steps. Then when I went upstairs . . . A flower is a tangible thing. You can touch it, feel it, smell it. Well, you can't exactly smell azaleas, but you know what I mean.”
“Accept it or reject it, Jane. The choice is yours. Listen, I have to go. My next appointment is due any second. By the way, what did you think of the show this morning? Was I hot or what?”
Jane didn't have the heart to tell him she hadn't tuned in. “You were hot, Mike,” she fibbed. Little white lies were acceptable if they made another person feel good.
“I think the audience is starting to accept me,” he said, sounding excited. “You were right, I had to loosen up and go with the flow. Willie called in, and that was good. Gotta run. See you around nine, okay? Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Jane said, pressing the END button.
Jane got out of the car and walked up the driveway to the house she'd grown up in. She turned to survey the neighborhood. She could barely remember it. What she could see told her the neighbors took pride in their lawns and shrubbery. Her parents' house, with its overgrown lawn and unpruned bushes, was the sloppiest one on the street. She really and truly hated this place, and that's what it was, a place. It's now or never, she thought grimly as she unlocked the kitchen door. While the temperature outside was seventy degrees, the inside of the house felt like it was fifty. She shivered as she walked through the rooms.
“I'm here, Mother! Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she singsonged. “This is going to be the best day you've had for a long time. Where are you? Come on, I don't have all day. Let's get to it,” she said as she opened the little cubbyhole under the staircase. She yanked at the string attached to the light socket, but nothing happened.
“I'm here, Jane, behind you.”
Jane whirled around.
“I know why you're here, Jane. It's wrong. Please, I don't want to hear the words.”
“How could you possibly know why I'm here? I didn't know myself that I was coming here until a little while ago. I came to . . .” A featherlike touch to her lips stopped her short of speaking.
“Don't say it. Once you say the words it will be too late. Please, sit down here on the window seat and listen to me. I don't want you to forgive me, Jane. I don't want you to send me to the other side. Please, let me stay here. Let me try to atone for all my past wrongs. I told you when you were here the last time that I get lonely. If you let me stay, you can visit me from time to time. When you have children, you can bring them here so I can see them. Please, I don't want to leave,”
she begged.
Jane leaned back against the wall and rubbed her temples. She could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes. “Let me get this straight. You don't want me to forgive you. You want to stay here in this empty house and flip-flop around for all eternity. Then you expect me to come here and visit you and bring my kids if I'm fortunate enough to have any. This will make you feel better about being such a lousy mother?”
BOOK: Plain Jane
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