Sidetracked-Kobo (28 page)

The trembling had risen from my legs to my arms, my neck. I thunked my laptop onto the bench. Stared at Tina. How could she
be
this way? How could anyone do this? I slumped back against the bench, my gaze raking the ground as if an answer lay hidden there. Surely God would show me something. Anything.

“We’ve seen it happen before, haven’t we.”

Tina’s words pierced through my thoughts. I stilled, eyes fixed on a thick weed in the grass. The chaos in my brain turned milky. Trickled away.

“We’ve seen it happen before
…
”

The comment bounced around in my head. Gathered momentum.

Memories flashed then, errant bits and phrases spotlighted into a new, horrifying picture:

My father in obvious misery the last time I’d spoken with him on the phone in CYA:
“I’ll have to tell you
everything
.”

My attorney questioning him on the stand:
“When did you meet Miss Fulder?” “Two months after my wife was killed.”
My father had looked down when he answered—because he was lying?

I’d been framed for my mother’s death—by someone who obviously understood crime scene evidence.

My father driving around in his new red Porsche after my mother’s inheritance—a car bound to attract the attention of a money-hungry woman.

Tina’s constant rant,
“That money’s mine. It’s always been mine.”

My father’s strange car accident, soon after our phone conversation.

No.
No.

My insides deadened. I could not feel my heartbeat.

Slowly I raised my head. Tina’s face swam before me. “You killed my mother.”

Tina took a step back. Then drew up to her full height, chin high. “Think so?”

I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the bench. If I didn’t steady myself I would slip to the ground, melt away like wax. “You made it look like me. You wanted my father to yourself. You wanted his money.”

Tina’s mouth twisted. “I
earned
that money. Then
you
go and take it away from me.”

Acids drained down my throat. The world darkened. I gripped the bench harder and sucked in air. “My dad finally realized it was you, didn’t he. He confronted you with it.”

Tina smirked. “He was drinking too much those days.”

Little wonder, once he put it all together. I couldn’t begin to imagine my father’s horror. “
You
sent his car over the edge of that cliff.” A sob clogged my throat. “Didn’t you!”

Tina placed two fingers against her jaw. She moved her head from side to side in an overt display of pity. “Laura. Dear.” She sat beside me on the bench. I reared away from her. “Now you see the problem? There is nothing you can do about any of this. So why try?
No one
will believe you. The D.A. in California will always think you killed your mother. And Melcher’s set on Billy. Leave it alone. Live your life.”

Tears ran down my face. “When did you start seeing my father? Tell me that.
When
?”

Tina shrugged. “So he had an affair on your mother. Doesn’t mean he didn’t love her.”

“I love you. I loved your mother.”
My father’s words in our last phone call.

“Now.” Tina picked up my computer and set it back on my lap. “See there, it’s gone to sleep. Wake it up. Time to finally let me have what I deserve.” She curled one side of her mouth. “Maybe you’ll send me an invitation to your wedding.”

I swallowed hard. “You won’t get away with this. You
can’t
.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I already have.”

“I’ll stop it. Now.”

“You’ll stop nothing. You’ll only lose everything you love. Andy. Your friends. Your freedom. At the very least you’ll go to jail for assuming a false identity. But believe me, I’ll push Melcher hard to pursue you for Clara’s murder. Once the town finds out about you, you really think they won’t find you guilty? Leave it
alone.
”

My head shook. “No. I couldn’t live with myself.”

Tina laughed. “That won’t change either way. Would you rather feel lousy about yourself as Mrs. Bradshaw—or in jail for the rest of your life?”

The thought of returning to jail, confined, cut off, again branded a murderer … I couldn’t bear it.

Neither could I bear it for innocent Billy.

“Why didn’t you kill
me
, Tina?” I bit off the words. At that moment I wished she had a gun. Just shoot me in the head. Finish it. “Why like this?”

She frowned, as though disappointed in me. “Too suspicious a trail, don’t you think, when I’d suddenly “find” you and petition to be awarded the money?” Her face hardened. “Besides, you suffer far more this way.”

Through tears I stared at the woman who had wrecked my life. I felt empty. Dead. Yes, I would suffer. Lose everything. But I had made enough bad decisions for one lifetime. What freedom had I gained, trapped by lies?

I closed the lid of my computer.

“What are you doing?” Tina grabbed my arm.

I shook her off. Slid the laptop into my tote bag and stood. Picked up the bag. Every movement felt precise. Weighted. “Claiming back my life.” On one heel I turned and walked away.

“No!” I could hear Tina leap to her feet. “You’re not going anywhere!”

I kept walking.

“Laura!”

My feet moved me. Away from my old life. Into my new one.

“
Laura
!”

Footsteps ran from behind. An arm whirled me around. “This won’t work. And in the end I’ll still get the money.”

I gazed at her long and hard. Forcing her to see the resolve in my eyes. “Pity it’ll take so many years. Wonder what you’ll live on till then.”

She grabbed for the tote bag. “Give it to me. I’ll do it myself!”

I shoved the bag behind me. “The bank passwords aren’t in there, Tina. They’re in my head. And nothing you do,
nothing
, will make me give them to you now.”

Chin up, I turned again and left Tina Fulder hurling curses at my back.

From the park I headed straight toward Andy’s house. Darkness covered my mind. There were so many realizations to grasp that I could handle none of them. I only drove, hands tight on the wheel, muscles clenched.

At Andy’s house I picked up the tote bag. I did not want to leave its contents in my car. My legs felt like lead as I trudged up the sidewalk. Before I could ring the bell, he appeared at the door, concern on his face.

“What’s happened?” He reached for me.

I fell against his chest.

He held me up, pulling me across the threshold. I started to cry. His touch, the feel of him—all would be gone. Andy took the tote bag from my hand and led me to his couch. We sank down on it. He put the bag on the floor.

I leaned against him and sobbed. By the time I quieted, my head pounded and my stomach cramped.

An odd resignation settled over me.

For my mom and dad. For Clara. For Billy.

“Andy, I’m so sorry.” I pulled off my engagement ring and laid it on the coffee table.

He gaped at me.

I took both his hands in mine. Tried to speak twice before any more words would come. “I love you. So much that I didn’t know how to tell you the truth. The more we fell in love, the more I was afraid to tell you.”

Andy’s eyes started to glisten.

“Now you need to know the truth first. You deserve that. Then I have to go to Chief Melcher.” I took a deep breath and spoke the words that had so weighted me for the last five years. “My real name is not Delanie Miller. I was not born in Michigan, and my parents did not die together in a car accident when I was young.” I swallowed. “My name is Laura Denton. I was born in California. When I was sixteen, I came home from school one day and found my mother murdered …”

Once I began, it all tumbled out. My arrest. My trial and conviction. Losing my dad. Reuniting with him again in CYA only to lose him forever. Tina. The inheritance and lawsuit. My terrible decision to flee my tainted past.

Andy did not let go of me the entire time I spoke. He only held my hands tighter.

“Now Tina’s found me. She’s here in Redbud, trying to bribe me out of the money.” My throat closed up. “Andy, she killed Clara. Because of
me.
And she killed my mother and father.”

“
What
?” Andy drew back, unable to take it all in. When he could find his voice he pounded me for details, struggling to understand. How had this happened? How could it be? Was I
sure
?
He got up and paced, running his hands through his hair. I knew how he felt. My boldfaced lies. The horrible truth about my parents. And the awful consequences I’d face in Redbud. It was too much to assimilate.

What to do when your world has scudded off its axis?

He sat down again beside me. His face looked hollow. “What can we take to the police?”

We
.

I stared at him, not sure I’d heard right. I thought my head would split in two. My eyes moved from his face to the engagement ring, still on the table. Andy picked it up. “Why did you take it off, Del—?” He looked away, forehead creased. “I don’t even know what to call you now.”

My lips pressed together. I couldn’t cry anymore. “You can’t want me after this.”

Andy opened his mouth. Closed it. He picked up my left hand and slid the ring back on my finger. Then he held me tightly. I could feel him shaking.

There was so much more to say. I knew, after he’d had time to think about all I’d done, how many times I’d lied to him, he might well change his mind. For now, we had other things to do.

Together we stood.

“I’ll call Melcher. Let him know we’re coming.” Andy’s voice sounded rough. In this, he could not protect me. I couldn’t bear to see the stunned look in his eyes.

Before leaving the house we discussed the strategy we’d take with the chief of police. Readied our evidence. Andy’s expression fell into one of grief-stricken but focused determination. “All right. Let’s go.”

We drove to the station in silence.

A not-so-friendly-looking Melcher led us to the back room where he’d first questioned me three nights and a lifetime ago. I carried my tote bag. My cell was still inside—with Tina’s texts.

In the room, Melcher closed the door. “All right. What is it?”

I set my bag on the table. “Before I tell you the whole story, I’d like you to listen to something.”

From an inside pocket of the tote bag, I pulled Pete’s small voice-activated tape recorder. Clicked the
play
button.

“Laura Denton, how nice to see you again.” Tina Fulder’s sarcastic voice filled the room.

May 2014

“GUILTY” IN CRENSHAW CASE

The Friday morning headline blared up at me from a sun-drenched sidewalk. I swept up the Lexington newspaper and returned to the house. My ankles trembled as I climbed the four steps to our wide front porch. I’d been in court to hear the verdict, of course. One of the most emotional moments of my life. Last night I had barely slept. Now, just seeing the word “guilty” in bold black letters rushed it all back.

In truth, over a year after Clara’s death, my nerves were still easily frazzled.

“Pregnancy can do that,” Andy’s mother had informed me. “Once you’re over the three-month mark, you’ll feel better.”

As if pregnancy should be the only reason. I was trying to forge a relationship with my mother-in-law. But so much of me she would never understand.

I entered the kitchen, smelling Andy’s eggs and bacon. Made me queasy. I laid the paper before him on the kitchen table, my throat tight.

He read the headline and gave me a grim nod. “And she’s not through yet. Next will be the California courts.”

Tina would eventually be extradited to undergo two trials there—one for the murder of my mother and one for my father. She might even face the death penalty. I would attend those trials, staying with my wonderful Aunt Nicky and Uncle Ted. They’d already promised to watch our child while I was in court.

Andy studied my face. “You okay?” He reached for my hand. “It’s over, Laura. She got what she deserved. I know you still have the trials for your parents, and your own situation. But at least this part is done. Allow yourself to rest in that.”

“You’re right.” I tried to smile. How I wanted to rest and enjoy the life God had given me. A loving husband, a baby on the way. Everything I’d dreamed of. But guilt can be overpowering, an eclipse of the most brilliant sun. I knew God had forgiven me for the decisions that led to Clara’s death. Now He would have to help me forgive myself.

As for some in Redbud, they had made it clear I would forever be blamed. The town was no longer a haven for me. Andy and I had chosen to settle in Lexington.

I squeezed my husband’s fingers, then moved away to make a cup of tea. Coffee sat hard on my stomach these days.

My husband took a bite of his breakfast. “You’re meeting with Wanning today at two, right? I’ll be there.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I want to. Gotta keep that lawyer on his toes.”

The process to overturn my own conviction was dragging through the California legal system. It would happen—a necessity before Tina could be tried for my mother’s murder—but the hearings and filings seemed endless. For the innocent, justice turns slowly.

I threw the wet teabag in the compacter, struck for the millionth time at the irony I’d created. Even when my conviction was finally overturned, I would still have a felony on my record—one for which I alone was to blame. False Personation. I’d pleaded guilty, and with the help of crack attorney Wanning had been given only probation. Better that than one to five years in the penitentiary.

At the table I took a drink of hot tea and shivered.

“Want to read this?” Andy pushed the newspaper toward me.

My eyes grazed the copy. By now I knew every minute detail of the case. My testimony—and the tape recording—had been key for the guilty verdict. I’d spent days on the stand. Tina’s defense attorney had taken every opportunity to remind the jury I was a convicted killer and could not be believed. Cutting accusations, but a lame argument in the face of Tina’s own words. Even though she hadn’t explicitly admitted to the three murders on tape, her meaning had been more than clear.