Miscarriage Of Justice (16 page)

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Authors: Bruce A Borders

Tags: #payback, #justice system, #clean read, #nothing but the truth, #Suspense, #not guilty, #jail, #ex-con, #innocent man, #novel, #Crime, #wrongly accused, #district attorney, #revenge, #criminal intent, #prison, #crime fiction best sellers, #prison life, #jury, #Family, #Truck Driving, #Murder, #court system, #body of evidence, #courtroom drama fiction

BOOK: Miscarriage Of Justice
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

 

Work, so they say, soothes the soul and ironically is both physically and mentally therapeutic. By that definition, Mariana should have been feeling extremely fit, because she definitely had plenty of work. Having been gone for over two weeks, there seemed to be no end to the phone calls, appointments, and mountainous piles of paperwork. She’d spent the entire first day studiously reorganizing her inbox and sorting through the messages she’d received. The next few days, had been devoted solely to preparing for the upcoming trial of a local rape case, a case she couldn’t afford to lose. Thursday morning, she spent in court. After a brief lunch recess, she’d returned to the courthouse, staying until four o’clock. It’d already been a long day but with the backlog of paperwork, she’d returned to the office, working steadily until well after six. Looking forward to a quiet evening, she was thankfully, now headed home.

Jessi had called earlier that afternoon, leaving a brief message on Mariana’s cell phone. Still worried about her friend’s well being, the nurse had invited herself down for the next few days.

Hoping she hadn’t waited too long, Mariana returned the call. When Jessi answered she said, “Sorry I didn’t call back sooner. I was in court all day and just got your message.”

“That’s okay,” Jessi told her. “I figured you were busy, so I just decided to head that way. If you don’t want me to come, I guess I could turn around, but I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

Insisting she was doing fine and didn’t need to be babysat, Mariana quickly added, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t come. I’d love to have you visit. How long are you staying?”

“I’ll probably go home on Monday.”

In high spirits, Mariana hung up the phone. Despite having recently spent two weeks at Jessi’s house, she was eager to see her friend again. Jessi was the one person she could talk to about her troubles. Just having someone around would help ease her nervous tension.

But, if Jessi was coming down, that meant there was work to do. The house was a mess! No way was she letting her friend see it like that. So much for a night of relaxation.

Steering her car up the drive, Mariana didn’t notice the smaller set of tracks in the dirt lane. Neither did she see the deep footprints of someone trampling through her flowerbeds beneath the windows. Had she noticed these things she wouldn’t have been nearly so eager to unlock the door and get into the house. But she was an attorney, not a detective, and not trained in the fine art of observation.

Untrained, but not totally blind. The second she stepped through the doorway she was keenly aware of the two shadowy figures. Startled, she turned her full attention to the scene in the living room and let out an involuntary high-pitched shriek. Then, just as quickly she realized the two figures were nothing more than lifeless dummies. That knowledge did nothing to discourage her heart’s wild pounding. Neither did it mollify the worried angst she suddenly felt.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm. Her main concern, at the present, was that Ethan had been in the house, and maybe he was still there, lying in wait somewhere inside. The advice of all the experts, advice she knew well, having sat through countless lectures on the subject, was that when a person found themself in a situation such as this, the safest and most sensible thing to do was to immediately get out of the house. Leave and call the police. She knew it, could recite the mantra in her sleep but foolishly chose to ignore it.

With an angry scowl, she slowly shook her head. This was indeed scary and frightening, and although her first reaction was to go get a motel for the night, she stubbornly refused to give in to the idea. She wasn’t about to let this maniacally twisted criminal drive her out of her home! She’d already left once, this time she was staying. Crazy person or not!

Defying her own intuitive logic, she scooped up a fireplace poker and started a room-by-room search. If Ethan were still there, he was going to wish he’d never heard of Mariana Clark!

Hurrying from through the house, she inspected every possible hiding place. Flinging open the closet door of the guest room, the last room to be searched, and finding no one, a slightly more confident Mariana returned to the living room. At least it used be the living room, it now more closely resembled a casino.

Seeing the flashing light on her answering machine, the anxious woman paused long enough to push the button. She listened with growing apprehension as Ethan’s voice clearly cut through the silence. “Looks like your luck is about to run out.”

Pushing the button again, she listened to the message once more. Hearing the tenor of his voice, she relaxed a little. This was all a big joke to him. Shaking her head in disgust, she erased the message.

 Standing in the doorway, between the living room and kitchen, studying the scene, she couldn’t help but wonder again what the purpose of all this was. She understood the foreboding implications, but why a casino? What relevance did a poker game have to Ethan’s unnatural fixation with tormenting her? And what possible reason could there be for taking the time to set it all up? Other than to prove himself insane and in dire need of psychiatric help, she could think of nothing.

Moving a little closer, she finally saw the note Ethan had placed on the table. “The house always wins,” she read. Then she repeated the phrase. Shaking her head, she frowned and shrugged, still bewildered by it all.

The man was mad. She understood that. Definitely mad, in both senses of the word, angry and insane. The fact that he was angry, even angry enough to want to kill her made sense considering what she’d done to him, but why the games? Why break into her house for the sole purpose of setting up a murder scene? And again, why a casino? It just didn’t follow any sort of logic. Shrugging again, and letting out an exasperated sigh, Mariana shook her head. Maybe the guy felt a need to express his artistic ability and creativity. “Who knows?” she muttered, dropping the note back to the table.

Whatever his reasoning, she had to admit he’d done a marvelous job constructing a realistic depiction of a Vegas casino. The crime scene was rather realistic too; everything was so perfect, right down to the last detail, complete with bloodstains. “Maybe he is just plain crazy,” she said reaching for the phone.

Jessi would be pulling in the drive in just minutes, but Mariana felt a strange need to tell someone about the incident immediately. Since the only person she could discuss it with was her friend, she dialed her number again.

“And you’re still there?” an incredulous Jessi asked after hearing the story.

“Yeah, I checked and he’s gone,” Mariana said simply. Then she told her friend of the message on the machine. “So he’s gone.”

“He could’ve used a cell phone, right there in your house.” Jessi pointed out.

“I guess,” Mariana said.

“What if he’s hiding outside?”

“I suppose he could be,” Mariana admitted. “But I’ve been home for over half an hour and he hasn’t shown himself yet. Besides,” she added, “I have an alarm.”

Suddenly she gave a short gasp remembering her security overall. How had Ethan gotten in?

“Did you have it set today?” Jessi questioned.

“I think so,” Mariana said slowly. “Yes, I did. I know I did. I remember turning it off when I came in.” Quickly glancing around, she could see no visible signs of forced entry. Feeling rather stupid for not thinking of the alarm sooner, she mumbled something about how batty she’d been lately.

Jessi though, didn’t think it was strange at all. “You had other things on your mind,” she said in a consoling tone.

With her friend still on the line, Mariana traipsed through the house again, making another thorough search. “I don’t see anything,” she said. “No broken windows, and they’re all locked. The doors too.”

“Was the front door locked when you got home?” wondered Jessi.

“Yeah. I had to unlock it to get in,” Mariana answered, walking back to the kitchen.

Just then, the flashing number display on the stove caught her eye. Quickly, she turned to check the clock on the microwave. It too was blinking red. Both read 7:15.

 “The electricity has been off,” she told Jessi. Looking at her watch Mariana saw it was ten minutes past seven. “It came back on five minutes before noon.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because digital clocks come on at twelve o’clock, and both of the ones in my kitchen are five minutes fast.”

“That still doesn’t explain how he got in,” Jessi argued.” Doesn’t your alarm have a battery backup?”

“Yeah,” Mariana acknowledged. Then she sheepishly added, “But I never did put a battery in it.”

“Well, duh!” Jessi chided. “So he just turned off the power and walked right in?”

“Guess so, but I still don’t know how he did it without breaking a lock or window.” Mariana shuddered as it occurred to her Ethan might have a key. He seemed to be able to get whatever else he wanted. She mentioned the possibility to Jessi.

“Okay that’s it.” Her friend exploded. “You’ve got to get out of there. Right now!”

Mariana still wasn’t ready to concede any sort of victory to Ethan. “If he wanted to kill me, don’t you think he would have waited for me to come home rather than waste time with all the silly nonsense and then leave? He just wants to play this little game to try to scare me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.”

“You’d rather be dead?”

“I just told you. He had a chance to do that if he wanted,” Mariana retorted. “And he didn’t. All he wants is to intimidate me.”

“You still need to get out of the house,” Jessi told her. “You don’t need to be there, if he does decide to come back.

“Let him come,” Mariana said brusquely. “I’ll send him to a place worse than prison this time. I didn’t get to where I am by being scared off every time some low-life threatened me.”

“I still think it would be better if you left,” Jessi repeated.

 “Why? You’ll be here in a minute or two.”

“Yeah, but I’m not so sure I want to stay there either.” Jessi told her. “Not with all of this going on.”

“Look,” said Mariana “I don’t think he’ll try anything, especially with the two of us here. I’ll put a battery in the alarm if it’ll make you feel better. If he tries to get in, we’ll know.”

“Great!” said Jessi tenaciously. “But I think I’d rather not know if he’s going to kill me.” Then relenting, as Mariana knew she would, the nurse said, “I’ll stop and get a battery. What kind?”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ve got one here somewhere.” Mariana said

“Yeah. I’ll stop to get one,” Jessi insisted. “What size?”

“I think it’s a 9-volt,” Mariana answered. Opening the alarm cover she said, “Yeah, it is.”

That taken care of, they hung up and Mariana flew into a frenzy, cleaning up some of the clutter, loading the dishwasher, and starting a load of laundry. She purposely left the staged casino just the way Ethan had arranged it.

She’d barely finished sweeping the kitchen floor when she heard a car in the drive, and then saw headlights glaring through the window. Knowing it was more than likely Jessi, Mariana still tensed up. Despite the obstinate and brave front she’d put on for Jessi, she was a little frightened. Having Jessi there would help alleviate some of her anxiety, she hoped.

Through the kitchen window, she could almost make out the faint outline of Jessi’s pickup. Then with a sigh of relief, Mariana watched as her friend got out. Opening the door, she eagerly invited her in.

“Is it safe?” Jessi joked.

“At the moment,” Mariana responded, already feeling more confident now that she wasn’t alone. “But the lady in my living room didn’t fare so well.”

“You kept it set up?” Jessi asked eagerly. Getting a nod from her friend, she couldn’t hide her excitement. “I want to see!”

“I left it exactly as I found it,” Mariana said. “Just for you.” Now that the shock had worn off, she had to admit the scene was kind of cute.

Jessi’s eyes widened as she stepped through the door. “That’s a bit extravagant,” she said. “Couldn’t he have just left the note?”

“It is a little overkill, isn’t it?” Mariana agreed.

“No pun intended right?” Jessi laughed. Seeing Mariana’s puzzled expression, she clarified it, “Overkill?”

“Oh, yeah. No pun intended, I guess.” Mariana grinned wryly.

“So, are you going to leave it set up?” a curious Jessi wanted to know.

“No,” Mariana quickly answered with a shake of her head. “It’s kind of creepy. Cute, but creepy. Especially when I know the woman is supposed to be me.”

“Yeah,” Jessi said appearing serious. “I can see the resemblance.”

“Are you saying I’m a dummy? Mariana asked feigning an offended look.

“Me?” Jessi laughed. “Never! You’re the one who said it.”

Moving closer, Jessi noticed the cards the dead gambler held. “Wow! He even stacked the deck!”

“What do you mean?”

Jessi pointed to the cards. “Dead man’s hand.” Seeing the puzzled frown on Mariana’s face, she explained about Wild Bill holding the cards when he was shot in the back, and then added, “It’s become sort of a taboo hand. A lot of gamblers believe it’s the kiss of death to be dealt those cards.”

Marina thought their superstition was silly and said so. “Lucky for me, I’m not a gambler.”

Together then, they began dismantling the work of art. Piling the cards, the chips, and everything else on the floor, they laid the mannequins aside and moved the table back to the dining room.

“What are you going to do with all of that?” Jessi asked gesturing to the mess.

Shrugging, Mariana gave her a blank look. “I don’t know. Throw it away I guess. Why? Do you want it?”

“I want the dress.” Jessi said emphatically.

“Take it,” Mariana offered, “If it’ll fit. But,” she added, “it has red splatters all over it.”

“They’ll come off.” Jessi seemed confident. “If not, I’ll paint black over them.”

“Oh, that won’t look tacky or anything,” Mariana laughed.

Turning the mannequin on its stomach, Jessi unzipped the evening gown. Pulling and twisting, she struggled to remove the dress. Suddenly, she stopped and burst into laughter.

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