Jayne Doe (7 page)

“Why did you take your truck to work today?”
I concentrate so she might hear.

She scrunches her brows. Excitement courses through me. She's listening.

“Johnny hates your truck.”

She feels ashamed.

“Jayne, look at your lip.”

She puts the truck in park, and stares at her face in the rearview.

“Why do you let him hit you?”

“I don’t know.” Her words are barely above a whisper. They almost surprise me. She licks at the healing wound. “It’s my fault. If I wouldn’t make him so mad, he wouldn’t freak out so much.”

“Don’t be retarded. Do you realize how stupid you sound?”

I don’t hold anything back. She believes this is her mind speaking.

“He’s a jerk. You can do better.”

“No, I can’t,” she whispers again and closes her eyes, grasping the steering wheel. “I tried. Casey would never want me now.”

Casey? Where did that come from?

I search for an answer, but she opens her eyes. The Red Bull has given her the jitters. She wants to get out and go into work. Her fingers shake as she turns off the engine.

Crap, focus.

“No, turn the truck back on. Leave it running. Go in and dump Johnny. Tell him you’ll put a protective order on him if he doesn’t leave you alone. Mom did that to Bob, remember?”

No luck. She’s not paying attention. She only turns the key just enough to twist on the radio. Not quite what I wanted. She’s in her own mind and I can't get through that concrete surface. As much as I love her, she’s probably the most difficult person I’ve tried to connect with mentally. She fiddles with the stations. The radio is old. It’s one of those that skip around on its own. I think the stupid thing has done that since the first day she bought it. Her heart starts beating a little faster. I’m not sure if it’s the caffeine or if she’s getting an idea. She smiles at the sound of a guitar plucking it’s strings. I don’t understand what she’s thinking until I hear the drums and that voice.

That screamy, whiny, AC/DC rocker voice blaring
Highway to Hell
.

I giggle in my seat, thrilled to see that don’t-mess-with-a-girl-from-the-trailer-park look in her eyes. She has an idea. A better idea than I could’ve ever come up with.

She roars the truck to life and turns up the music. I can’t help but bounce and dance in the seat, like old times. Jayne throws the truck in reverse and squeals the tires.
Wow, Jayne, I’m impressed.
I stop bouncing for a second to look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Baby.” She mocks Johnny. “You just couldn’t help yourself when you hit me on our first date. Our. Very. First. Date.” She stares at Johnny’s prize possession. The stupid, shiny, cherry-red heap of ego, parked in no-man’s land, taking up two spots. “You are so damn, pathetic.”

She presses the gas pedal.

I brace myself.

“No, I don’t think I’ll make it that easy on you,” she says as she turns to rest her arm on the seat and calculates the best angle for maximum damage with one good crunch. She only has one chance. So it’s gotta be good. She looks over her shoulder and begins to back up. “I don’t think I want you to get in that driver’s seat again. Ever.”

She slams down her foot. Her hand grips the wheel so hard her knuckles turn white. And those eyes. Those baby-blue eyes are wide with excitement.

Bam.

Her body goes flying into the dash.

“Damn, that hurt.” She lifts up her head.

“Do it again,” I beg with a devilish grin. This is such a good idea.

She begins to laugh. Almost like he’s a joke. “Oh, I’m sorry. You don’t like how we do it,
White-Trash Style
?” She pulls forward and his car settles back down on all four wheels as she sings highway to hell. The radio is blaring and rattling the old windows.

I grin at her and bounce in my seat. This is probably one of the biggest moments I’ve ever had with Jayne.

She gets out of the truck and wanders back to inspect the tail-end. Her laughter is out of control as she holds her stomach and drops to the ground, completely manic. I move next to her and stare at the teeny-tiny little scratch on her bumper. It’s hysterical, seeing how Johnny’s is a wadded up pile of junk.

The song screeches out the open truck door.

This is exhilarating.

It’s vengeance.

Jayne shivers and jumps back in.

I’m having so much fun. I would pay good money to see the look on Johnny’s face when he sees this.

The radio switches to static and Jayne sits back, quiet for a second. Then she laughs again. “Oh, Jill, if you were here, we would be having so much fun.” She brushes the strands of hair from her face, and stares into the mirror. The sugar rush seems to be wearing off. She’s coming back to reality. “What have I done?” Her heart begins to race, opening her mind again. I can see the millions of things going through it. Mainly a mug shot with her face plastered over the news. Girlfriend gone crazy.

“Stop, Jayne. Don’t panic.”
I shove my fingers into the radio, scrambling the stations to get her to focus on something. She turns it off.

“Put the truck in reverse.”

She’s barely listening and she’s afraid to leave the scene.

“I am so dead.” She looks out the window at the sky.

“Jayne put the truck in reverse.”

She’s not listening, and her eyes are starting to have that I’ve-got-to-figure-things-out-on-my-own look.

“This is the gray area. Remember white lies can only hurt you if you tell too many. This could be a white lie.”
I’m trying to give sound reason, and she’s beginning to lean toward dumping the truck.

“It’s is the last bad thing you’ll ever do.”

She knows this isn’t true, but she goes with it because it’s better than the alternative. She puts the truck in reverse and drives to Wall Avenue. I’m not sure where she’s going, but I know she has her mind made up. Nothing is going to change her story.

I start to see the canyon divide. She’s going to the scenic view. The place where kids get caught parking. At least that’s what I’ve heard, anyways. She’s shaking like a leaf, dazed at what just happened, but she’s planning to tell everyone her truck ran out of gas. This will remove her from the crime scene. Brilliant. Now all she needs is a story of why she was crossing the divide.

When we get to the scenic view park area, she pulls in and checks the gas gauge. Low. It’s believable. She shuts off the truck. The cold air immediately begins to seep in through hidden openings. Her temperature drops with the thin clothes and cheap coat she has on. She refuses to turn the key back on. I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore. Her teeth begin to chatter as she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out her cell.

She’s calling someone. I can’t figure out who because she’s so guarded again. She’s in survival mode.

It’s not Johnny.

It’s not Martha or Billy.

It’s Casey's dad.

His dad?

Her professor.

I’m suddenly getting the feeling Casey’s dad is a pervert. He lives in the valley, just over the canyon, and teaches at the University. She’s hoping he hasn’t left for his 11:00 a.m. class. The one she goes to right after she's finished working.

I’m stunned.
How could I live with this girl every day all my life, and not really know a thing about her? Why had she hidden Casey from me? How did Casey not know she liked him? He thinks she’s cute. She likes him. Why aren’t they together. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work when your grown up?
I’m in overload, confused. I don't understand why she never went after him.

He doesn’t have a girlfriend. Everybody knows that.
I sift through her thoughts until I hit a brick wall. She's guarded. It’s like she’s ashamed of something. Like Casey, of all people in the world, would judge her for something.

I don’t get it.

Jayne has had a crush on Casey since the seventh grade when his parents got a divorce and his mom moved next door to us. All those times I thought she wanted to play with me in the backyard on our broken swing set next to his window, were desperate attempts to get his attention, hoping he would come out and join us.

Oh, Jayne, he likes you, too.

I stare at her as she holds the phone to her ear. It only rings once before the perv answers.

“Jayne, is everything alright?”

Why does he have her in his contacts? Creeper.

I focus on his voice and start to pick apart his mind, blanching at what I see.

Get Jayne’s number. Make her believe it’s for my ex-wife. Create a trusting relationship. Ask her out.

Sick. He’s an old man.

“I’m fine, Professor—”

“Please, call me Rick.”

Don’t call him anything. He’s a sicko.

Though Casey has the same dark hair and dark eyes as his dad, he's nothing like him.

“Um—” Jayne says, pausing a little. She doesn’t want to call him Rick either. She’s onto his game. “I-I just needed a ride to school. My truck ran out of gas.” She bites her bottom lip. First white lie.

“Heavens yes. Are you okay?” He doesn't care if she's okay; he just wants to have her inside his car. All to himself.

Oh, Jayne, hang up. You should never ride alone in cars with pervs.

I reach down and clutch my cramping stomach. A memory. A really bad memory.

“Well, my brother and his friends are being jerks and they won’t help me. I’m at the divide by the scenic view.” Second white lie. She’s nauseous. “Do you know where that is?” She plays dumb like she doesn’t know Rick lives in the valley.

“Yes, it’s right by my house.” He’s actually concerned now. “I’ll be right there.”

“No rush, I’ll just start walking down.” She lets out a deep breath of relief. She doesn’t want him to fiddle with the truck and realize it has plenty of gas. She plans to get as far away as possible. She’ll figure out how to get it later.

“Jayne, you keep warm. I’ll be right there.”

Nine

The air is biting at Jayne’s skin as she steadies herself on the icy pavement. She has a million thoughts running through her mind. Mainly how she’s going to pull everything off.

“Hey, stranger.” Rick pulls up next to us with the passenger window rolled down. He’s wearing way too much cologne, and his skin is leathery from tanning.

Jayne hesitates. I hesitate. “Thanks for coming,” she says. She doesn’t want to get in the truck. I don’t want her to get in the truck, either, but I know what will happen if she stays out here much longer.

Rick keeps his foot on the brake and leans over to open the door for her. “Sorry about your brother.”

“Yeah, he can be a pill sometimes,” Jayne says, but really, she’s thanking Billy in her head for being such an easy target.

“Well, I’m just glad you felt comfortable enough to call me.”

She doesn’t, idiot. You were the closest person around.
I have to focus on the hot air blowing out of the vents as it warms Jayne’s body, so I don’t flip out on the perv that’s driving a monster-sized Jeep. I just want to punch him in the chest.

Rick’s cell buzzes. He glances down to his lap.

“I’ve got to grab this real quick. It’s my son,” he says with an enormous grin on his face. Rick’s dying inside to tell Casey he has Jayne with him. “What do you need from me now.” He winks at Jayne and shakes his head.

“Dad?” Casey’s confused.

“The one and only.” Rick fiddles with the heater and whispers to Jayne. “You warm enough, yet?” She nods.

“Where are you?” Casey questions.

“I just picked up your friend, Jayne.” He’s reeling in the reaction he’s going to get. “You remember her from your mom’s place, right?”

“Jayne?” Casey is clearly confused. “Like Jayne from next door, Jayne?”

Rick’s voice moves around his mouth in a slow hiss. “The one and only.”

“Why is Jayne with you?”

Jayne is staring at her phone, now. The glowing letters of
Johnny
are bouncing on the screen. She feels like she’s going to vomit. She presses the button on the side to mute the vibration. Her mind is a hurricane of white lies. She’s trying to get her story straight. Something she can repeat over and over so she won’t get caught. Part of her feels awful for what she did. The other part, my favorite part, feels vindicated, like Johnny deserved every bit of it.

Rick is busy fabricating his own story. Something better than Jayne needing him for a favor, because her brother wouldn’t come. “My students need me.” He pauses. “They’re important.”

“More important than mom?” Casey is furious his dad forgot to fill her prescription. “She can’t help it, Dad. She’s sick.”

“I have a life, son.”

“Forget it, I’ll take care of it.”

A sting of guilt tugs at Rick as Casey hangs up. His ex-wife is suffering. I’m not sure what she has, but I sense she needs the medicine. “Sorry about that.” Rick faces Jayne and lets his foot off the pedal so he can have more time with her.

Her stomach is in knots and she's swallowing back bile. “Would it be okay if you ran me home?”

“Home?” Rick is surprised, but quickly realizes this could be his chance. The chance he’s so carefully orchestrated in his head. “Will you need my help picking up the truck?”

“No,” Jayne says too quickly. She settles back in her seat, trying to make him feel flattered. “I wouldn’t want to have you go out of your way. This is too much. Really, I’ll get Billy to help.”

“Are you sure?” Rick smiles and turns down Riverdale Road. “I don’t want him messing with you again. It’s no trouble.”

“I’ll kill him.” Jayne swallows the lump in the back of her throat as she sees the trailer park. “I can’t thank you enough.” She reaches for the handle desperate to get out. “I could give you some gas money.”

Rick is focused on the trailer next to ours. There’s a Subaru parked out front. Must be Casey’s. “No, dear, you keep your money.” He pulls in next to the car and Jayne jumps out. “Thanks again.” She books it into the house, I follow.