Lead Me On (15 page)

“She told me point-blank what she was doing.”

“Does Mac know?”

“Not yet. And I’m not going to be the one to tell him.”

While Olive was still sniffing her disdain, Jane saw her mom’s car pulling up. “Mom’s here—I’ve got to go.”

When her mom got out of her car, her eyes widened, but she hesitated only a second before moving past Jane.

“Mom,” Jane said. “You can’t do this.”

Her mom walked determinedly across the parking lot, mouth set in a stubborn line. An inconvenient time for her to grow a spine.

“Mac will be furious.”

“Jessie is my son, too, and I’m not going to leave him to rot in that jail just because his father is angry.”

She kept pace with her mother’s every step. “Mom, think about this. Where is Jessie going to stay?”

“Grandma Olive has agreed to let him stay with her for a little while.”

“And what if he runs? You’ll lose thirty thousand dollars!”

“It’s only ten thousand now. That’s nothing. And he won’t run. He wouldn’t do that to his family.”

“He brought stolen goods into your home!”

Her mother shook off the hand Jane placed on her arm and reached for the door.

“You can’t put up the house as collateral, regardless. Mac has to sign off on that, too.”

She whirled to face Jane. “I know that. You might think I’m too dumb for words, but I do know some things. I’m putting up my car. It’s worth just enough and the title’s in my name. Now, why are you trying to talk me into leaving Jessie in jail?”

“The motion of discovery was approved. Just give the lawyer time to look over the evidence. He could be cleared in a few days.”

“You just want him in jail where he can’t cause you any more embarrassment. You want to keep him there so he can’t interfere with your fancy life!”

Jane let her mom see the full weight of her fury. “Oh, yes, having Jessie locked up has been a great relief. All that hanging around the courthouse and sneaking into the jail for visiting hours has got to be great for my reputation. Not to mention the relief of getting rid of the savings that’ve been weighing me down. That’s been wonderful! Mom, Jessie’s twenty-one and he’s still a little kid. And now you’re rushing in to protect him
again
.”

“I am his mother!” she shouted, tears dragging through her black mascara. “It’s my job to protect him!”

Jane’s throat burned with the things she wanted to say. Cruel things that had built up inside her for years.

She did the best she could
, Jane told herself.
She didn’t know any better
. But she should have known. She should have known that you didn’t drag a little girl to prison visiting hours every month of her young life. You didn’t introduce her to a new “daddy” every other year, especially when those daddies were big, scary men with cold eyes and scarred hands. She should have seen that being trailer-park trash was hard enough without the added stigma of being a prison groupie piled on top of it. And that parents wouldn’t let their kids go to a birthday party for the stepdaughter of a convicted murderer no matter how many invitations were sent.

But there was no point in telling her mother this. Jane was a grown woman now, and she had to let these childhood resentments go. And though Jane thought bailing Jessie out of jail was a big mistake, her mother’s motivation was pure.

“All right,” she made herself say. “Do what you feel you need to do. Call me if there’s any trouble. I might have a fancy life, but I’m doing my best to help Jessie, too.”

She stalked away, a giant fist tightening in her gut as she rushed off. Her own mother thought she was a selfish bitch. Chase did, too. Because she was. She was selfish. Determined to have
everything
she wanted. Success. Respectability. Security.

Her mother had aimed as low as one could possibly aim. She’d prided herself on winning the affections of lonely criminals locked away in barred cells. Men who hadn’t seen a woman in a decade. That had been her idea of accomplishment. She’d demanded
nothing
for herself, not even a man she could touch.

They had nothing in common…so why was Jane so terrified of becoming her mom?

Jane stopped at her car, thumb hovering over the button on her key chain that would unlock the doors. Where was she going? To work? To the lawyer’s office? Home?

Something was gnawing at her from the inside out. Anger and words and regrets. She found herself wishing for another explosion, something that would draw the feelings out of her, like lancing an infection.

If Chase weren’t mad at her, she’d call and propose a quickie.

Crud.

Jane pulled her cell phone out and scrolled through her contacts. Nearly every single one of them was filed under the “work” heading. She found the name she was looking for and hit the call button, hoping she wasn’t making a big mistake.

Lori’s eyes looked surprised when she glanced over the pale yellow walls and the white curtains billowing in the spring breeze. “Thank you!” Her gaze went to the tight grip of Jane’s fingers around the neck of the bottle. “Do you need a glass?”

“Oh…” Did she? She hadn’t drunk beer out of a bottle in years. “No, this is fine. Thank you.”

“So…What’s going on? Why’d you call?”

Jane met Lori’s sympathetic eyes and couldn’t think what to say. She’d come here to talk, but now…“Are you getting excited about your trip?”

“I can’t wait!”

“You’ve really changed your life, haven’t you?”

“I have.”

Questions bubbled up in Jane’s throat.
How did you do it? Do you feel different inside or the same? Did you turn your back on your past? Are you faking your way through every day?
But if she asked those questions, she’d have to explain, wouldn’t she? She’d have to tell Lori that Jane Morgan wasn’t real.

Lori’s head cocked. “Jane? What’s going on?”

“I…” She’d kept her secret for too long. She couldn’t do it. Better to go with a smaller truth. “I’m seeing someone inappropriate.”

“The big guy?”

“Yes.”

“The one with tattoos on his neck?”

“Yes. His name is Chase.”

Lori nodded. “Quinn told me about him. He very reluctantly admitted that Chase seemed like a nice guy before he started abusing you.”

“He’s not abusing me!”

Lori’s grin spread across her face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. Quinn’s been so upset about his sweet little Jane dating a big, scary man. Do I get to meet this mystery guy?”

“
No
. It’s not serious like that. In fact, it’s probably over. He’s…We’re nothing alike.”

“Well, look at Quinn and me. I was a mechanic, and now I’m a thirty-year-old college freshman dating a successful architect. We’re not anything alike, we’re not in the same place in our lives, but I can’t imagine life without him.”

Lori looked down at her hands. “You two are amazing together. You make him so happy.”

“So does this Chase make you happy?”

She shook her head. “He can’t. I feel nice when I’m with him. He’s easy to be around. But I have plans that don’t involve someone like him.”

“Jane!” Lori laughed. “That sounds awful. ‘Someone like him’?”

Jane’s cheeks heated. They must be red, but they felt even more than that. Aglow with fiery magenta. “You don’t understand. I want to get married someday and have children. I can’t have kids with a man like that.”

“A man like what?”

Jane felt horrible. She knew it wasn’t right. Chase was a good man. He’d probably be a good father. Logically, she knew that, but in the deepest part of her heart, the idea of someone like Chase terrified her. And now that she knew he was a business owner, she couldn’t pretend that it was some deep objection. Her standards were all superficial and disgusting.

Jane nodded and set her shoulders. “When I was a little girl, sometimes the other kids’ dads would come to the school. To pick them up or for career day or the parents’ day lunch. And those men in suits and ties…They looked like the kinds of dads I saw on TV. They were like
superheroes
. Always smiling. Always polite to the other children. They were smart and shiny and perfect. I knew if one of those men was my dad, nothing bad would ever happen to me.”

“But Jane,” Lori said slowly, “you know that’s not true.”

“I do, but…I don’t want my children to ever think, ‘I wish my dad was like that man. I wish
he
were my father.’”

Lori looked impossibly confused. “What was your father like, Jane?”

She shook her head. How was she supposed to answer that? Would she tell the facts?
My real father was a convicted felon in prison for twenty years for bank robbery
. Or add a little flavor to it?
I never met him, but he wrote to me from prison every week until I turned twelve, and then he disappeared
. Or should she talk about Mac, who was the only real father figure she’d ever had?
My stepdad was convicted of killing an old woman. He didn’t do it, but everyone was still scared of him, and he did rob a liquor store when he was young
.

Jane didn’t know what to say, so she just shook her head.

Lori shook her head, too. “My dad was a mechanic. When he came to pick me up at school, he wore greasy coveralls. His nails were always black with grime. Always. And I never, ever wished my dad was somebody else, no matter what he looked like.”

“I did,” Jane whispered. She felt tears welling up and took a desperate swig of her beer.

“Then your dad wasn’t a good dad for other reasons.”

Oh, God. That was the understatement of the year. “I know. I know it’s irrational and ridiculous. I
know
that. And I know I’m awful and ugly to think this way, but I’m just…”

Lori took her hand. “What?”

“Terrified.”

“I understand about being scared. You know that. But it’s something to get past, Jane. Not embrace.”

“I’ve gotten past a lot already. I’m settled now.
Done
. I’m too tired to get past more. I just want a nice, normal husband and a nice, normal family! It doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.”

“I understand,” Lori said softly. “You know I do. After what I went through last year…But you’ve got something bigger going on, right? Do you want to talk about that?”

“No,” Jane answered quickly. “I don’t. I’m sorry. It’s nothing to do with you. I just want to leave that all behind. I don’t want to drag it along with me for the rest of my life.”

“Okay, but you know it’ll follow you anyway, don’t you?”

“Not if I can help it,” Jane muttered.

“So what are you going to do about Chase?”

What
was
she going to do about Chase? “I don’t know. He’s angry with me right now, so I might not have to do anything at all. Maybe it will just fade away.”

“Coward,” Lori said with a smile.

Jane raised her beer in a toast, then chugged half of it down. She might be a coward, but her secret was still safe and she’d happily run away from everyone to keep it that way.

“You look really good.” He did. He’d been out only for thirty-six hours, but his skin had already lost its pale anxiety.

“I missed you,” he said, sincerity in his eyes. Jane didn’t know if he was referring to jail or the fact that she hadn’t seen him for nearly six months before his arrest.

“Jessie!” Olive yelled from a back room. “Is that Dynasty?”

“Yes, Grandma!” he shouted as he waved Jane in. He glanced over his shoulder before he spoke again. “Can I stay with you?”

“Me?” Jane yelped. “Why?”

“I don’t like it here. Grandma doesn’t wear clothes to bed.”

“Well, jeez, she doesn’t make you sleep with her, does she?”

“No, she makes me sleep on the couch, which would be fine if she didn’t wander out for a snack every night at 2:00 a.m.!”

The woman herself appeared, fully clothed, thankfully. “You complaining about my birthday suit again, boy?”

“Grandma,” Jessie whined.

“If you don’t air out your plumbing, you get mildew. Everyone knows that.”

“Oh, God,” Jane muttered. “Just put on a robe, woman.”

“This is my house!” Grandma Olive snapped. “If you’re so concerned about his innocent eyes, take him in yourself.”

Jane gritted her teeth, knowing full well what was coming.

“Oh, but you won’t do that, will you? You don’t want some dirty thief living in
your
house. You’re too high and mighty for that. Still, I guess high and mighty is better than what you used to be.”

“Jessie—” Jane ground out the words “—are you ready to go?”

They both darted for the door, while Grandma Olive shouted for them to pick up peanut butter and milk on their way home.

“Can I please come stay with you?” Jessie begged, but Jane shook her head.

“Nope. I’m not getting on Mac’s bad side. He was right to let you stew, to give you some time to think about what you’ve done.”

“I’m thinking about it now,” Jess muttered.

“I’ll buy you a sleep mask,” she offered. Let him sleep on Grandma Olive’s couch for a few weeks and realize the value of working hard enough to afford his own place. He’d had his personal space in Mac’s basement. There’d been no reason for him to work hard and get out. But now, faced with the specter of prison or more of Grandma Olive’s birthday suit, maybe he’d think about going straight.

Jessie reached for the stereo and fiddled with it until he found a rock station that was only slightly fuzzy with interference from the mountains. She wanted to ask what his plans were, what he wanted to do with his life, but that conversation could wait until they knew just how much prison time he faced. Right now it would be cruel to ask him to consider it.

“I didn’t think Mom should’ve bailed you out, but I’m glad to see you anyway.”

“Thanks,” he said, sounding only half-sarcastic. After a few moments of silence, Jessie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.”

“It’s okay.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the lawyer’s office, the Foo Fighters keeping them company.

The receptionist ushered them into the conference room, and Jane’s heart slumped a little when she saw Peter Chase.

Not because of his appearance—he looked really good—but because he sat at the table alone.

Jane hadn’t heard from Chase in several days now, and it felt like an eternity. “Jessie, this is Mr. Peter Chase, our investigator.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Chase,” Jessie said, impressing Jane with his lack of slacker ennui.

Chase’s dad really did look good as he pushed to his feet to shake Jessie’s hand. There was healthy color in his cheeks and a robustness in his movements that had been missing before. Maybe Chase was wrong about him. Maybe he really was on the mend.

The attorney bustled in and they all sat down to go over the reports the police department had released the day before. Mr. Chase and the attorney had clearly already read them all, because they each had a list of questions.

“Listen,” Mr. Chase said. “I managed to corner one of your friends, Jessie. He didn’t want to talk to the cops, but when he found out I was working for you, he agreed to answer a few questions. After I offered a hundred-dollar bill, I might add. This guy said that your pal Tiny is dealing pot and a few pills. Is that true?”

Jessie shifted uncomfortably.

Mr. Chase gave him a hard look and turned to the attorney. “The name of the girl who OD’d is Rose. The informant says she’s fine, though. Took a few pills with a few too many shots and her friends ran her in to have her stomach pumped.”

Jane took a deep breath. “She didn’t die?”

“Nope. He didn’t know her last name. Jessie?” He shot Jessie a sideways look. “Last name?”

“I don’t know her, man,” Jessie mumbled.

“Well, it’s nothing to do with this Rose girl, it seems. I just thought I’d track down that loose end.”

They turned to the Michelle Brown file, but nothing surprising came up as they trudged through it. Yes, Jessie admitted, he’d stolen her purse. He’d also tried to use one of her credit cards to buy beer at the self-checkout line of the grocery store. He couldn’t remember how much cash she had, but he was pretty sure it had been less than the two hundred dollars she’d claimed on the police report.

“And afterward?” Ms. Holloway asked. “When did you see her again?”

“Never!”

“You’re sure? Maybe you hooked up with her later, not even realizing who she was.”

“No way. I’m not such a dog that I can’t remember the names of the girls I hook up with. The only Michelle I ever slept with was a girl in my high school, and it wasn’t her.”

They went over where he’d been the night Michelle Brown was killed, but his answer offered no comfort. “Probably getting high at Tiny’s house” wasn’t exactly the rock-solid alibi a jury would be looking for.

“Okay, let’s move on to Kelly Anderson. She said her backpack was stolen from The Black Box on January third. Do you remember that?”

“The Black Box? No way, man.”

Ms. Holloway leaned forward. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I haven’t been to The Black Box in three years. It’s all emo bands and folk shit now. No way.”

“So maybe she was at Ryders and didn’t want her mom to know.”

Jessie shrugged. “I never lifted any backpack, either.”

Mr. Chase flipped through the papers. “They didn’t find any of Ms. Anderson’s belongings in the car or in Jessie’s room.”

“Told ya,” Jessie said.

The attorney’s eyes gleamed. “So there’s no connection between Jessie and Kelly Anderson at all, and nothing connecting him to Michelle Brown’s murder but the fact that he stole her purse two weeks before she died.”

“That’s it?” Jane asked.

“That’s it, which is why the judge agreed to lower bail to ten thousand.”

“All right, man,” Jessie said. “Great.”

“Jessie,” Jane snapped, “it’s still serious. Six years’ worth of serious, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Jessie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s my ass on the line, Jane. I’m pretty clear on it.”

His attorney put up a restraining hand. “Jessie, I don’t want you doing anything while you’re out on bail. Nothing. Stay home. Keep your nose clean. No drinking. No pot. No women. And definitely no clubs or bars.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, but quickly followed it up with “Fine.”

“This is really good. And as long as you behave, we’re in a strong position. Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t.” He tried to give the Scouts’ honor sign, but Jessie had never been in the Boy Scouts, and he raised two fingers instead of three. But no one called him on it. His expression was sincere.

He started to stand, but Ms. Holloway put a hand on his arm. “If you two will excuse us, I need to speak to my client for a moment about some procedural issues.”

Jane nodded and walked out of the room, smiling at Mr. Chase when he held open the door and gave her a chivalrous little bow. She could see where Chase got his charm. And it suddenly hit her how sad it all was. That his dad was so sweet and charming and smart, because that meant Chase knew exactly what he was missing when his dad was drunk.

“I think you may be right about your brother, Miss Morgan. I don’t think he killed those women.”

It felt as if a giant fist squeezed her in its grip. To have someone outside the family say that about her slouching, long-haired brother…“Thank you so much, Mr. Chase.”

She touched his arm as she turned toward the group of chairs in the reception area. But her body hesitated when she caught sight of someone approaching past the glass sidelight of the office door. It was Chase, looking down at his phone.

When he glanced up, his eyes locked with hers, and he smiled. He
smiled
. Chase wasn’t mad anymore. Her heart jerked to a stop before sputtering back to frantic life. This was just a fling. She’d thrown that in his face so many times. So why was she so incredibly relieved that he wasn’t angry with her?

She couldn’t think about that now, because she was too busy smiling at him as he drew closer to the door.

“Hey, Miss Jane,” he said as he walked in. Her stomach shivered at the warm slide of his voice.

“Hi, Chase.”

“Dad? Are you ready to go?” Right. His dad probably didn’t have a license. Chase hadn’t come to see her, but he looked happy with her presence, at least. Didn’t he?

“…just a few more minutes,” his dad was saying. “I want to speak to Ms. Holloway before we take off.” He withdrew to a seat and started flipping through the files.

Nodding, Chase turned to her, hands in his pockets, head ducked a little. “How are you?” he asked softly.

“Good. Jessie’s out. He’s staying with Grandma Olive.”

“How’s that going?”

“You don’t want to know,” she answered, sharing a secret smile with him. “How are you?”

“Good.” He rocked back on his heels, and Jane watched, wanting to touch him. “Busy.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He met her gaze, his eyes immediately softening. “You just…confuse me.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. What more could she say? She confused herself.

“It’s all right, Jane.” His voice was so…understanding. She couldn’t tell what he meant. He could be understanding because he was done with her and at peace with it. Or he could be understanding because he cared.

After finding out about his career, she’d had to admit to herself that her only objection to Chase was superficial. His tattoos and boots and beat-up truck reminded her of her past. And his drunk father and trailer-park past were just too close to her own embarrassments. She wasn’t proud of her prejudice, but she wasn’t afraid to accept it.

She didn’t want to date Chase because of his family and his looks. But seeing him now, those worries fell away. He was smart and hardworking and nice. She missed him. Maybe she could just
try?

“Tomorrow is Tuesday,” Jane said inanely, hoping it was some sort of prompt.

“Yes, it is.”

She wanted him to ask her out. She wanted to see him, but she couldn’t admit it, because she’d made clear that she wasn’t serious about him. Oh, God, she’d backed herself into an untenable position. An indefensible position that she couldn’t abandon. This was how the Visigoths had gone down. At least according to last month’s book club selection.

Chase watched her past his lashes.

She cleared her throat as he took his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms.

“Jane,” he said, eyes narrowing, “would you like to go out to dinner on Tuesday night?”

She’d been hoping he’d propose a night at home. But she knew she’d been hoping in vain. Could she do this? Go out with him on a real, meaningful date? Because there was no doubt that was what he meant. “Okay,” she breathed.

“Okay?” He raised his head and looked straight at her. “All right, then. We’ll go someplace nice. Maybe Miso or Antony’s?”

Jane looked down at the floor and clasped her shaking hands together. Was she really going to let Chase take her out among businessmen and people who knew her? Could she make that leap?

Maybe. Maybe she could.

She took a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists. “Either would be fine.”

“Really?” That one word was a laugh of disbelief. “Well, all right, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Seven,” she agreed, her pulse galloping. She was going to do this.

As if the world had been waiting for just this arrangement, the door to the meeting room opened, and Jessie emerged with his attorney. His face was actually serious instead of apathetic. Maybe he really was growing up.

Peter Chase stood and inclined his head toward the lawyer. “All right, Billy,” he said to Chase. “I should be just a minute.”

Billy? Jane glanced toward him. “Billy?” she said, her smile stretching to a grin. “That’s your name?” She was starting to laugh when she registered the way his mouth tightened, his eyes going dark. “What?” she asked, thinking he must really hate the name.