Authors: M Jet
Limelight (8 page)
"Shhhh, baby, listen," Layla pleaded. "When the dust settles, I will come for you, OK? We'll be together. But you have to wait until you can get away without drawing suspicion. OK? Please Tara,
believe in me."
After a heartbreaking eternity, the women separated. Tara nodded mournfully, and Layla sprang into action. She grabbed Tara's purse and led her toward the door.
"Listen to me, Tara. If you're asked, you say you were with me all evening but went home around midnight. That way, if anyone spotted us out walking earlier, you're not caught lying later. In three days, if Seth hasn't been found, call the police. Tell them you've been trying to reach me and that I haven't answered, so you're worried. Got it?"
Lingering by the front door, Tara bawled but nodded her consent. Layla took her face in her hands. "Baby," Layla said emphatically. "I will come for you. We will be together. I promise."
Tara drew Layla into a long, desperate kiss. Both women cried bitterly as they embraced. But finally, Layla sent Tara out the door with a broken whisper. "Go."
She shut the door on her lover, and rushed to pack her bags.
***
A woman in a beat up Nissan rolled to a stop at customs on the border of Washington state and Canada, approximately twenty four hours after the death of Seth St. John. It was an area thick with swaying trees. Quiet and peaceful. She slowly rolled to a stop on a newly paved two lane highway with one wide yellow line down the center, and two small buildings, one on either side.
She had a cute pixie cut of flaming red hair that was tucked beneath a black ball cap. She wore sunglasses and nondescript jeans with a plain black t-shirt.
"Hi there, Miss. Passport and identification please," said a uniformed man in the customs booth.
Her name was Grace Webster, and she looked like any number of other people who coursed through the roads leading to and from Canada. The man carefully looked over her paperwork and then turned to plug something into a computer.
"Where you headed?" he asked her politely. Grace gave the name of a small motel where she had a reservation waiting.
"How long will you be in Canada?" the man asked.
His questions made her slightly edgy, but she knew they were standard. She tried to overcome her nerves by giving him a bright smile. "Indefinitely. I'm here to interview for jobs and hopefully I will stay."
"Lovely," the man said. He turned back to the computer and seeing what he apparently wanted to, he returned her documentation to her. "Enjoy your stay, ma'am," he said, and then the customs officer sent her on her way with a friendly smile.
Grace Webster pulled over several miles down the road. She got out of her car, sat on the hood, and simply looked around at the scenery for quite a long time.
***
It made news all over the world when the body of Seth St. John was discovered by Victim Unknown's manager, a day and a half after his death.
His bandmates each received a call from the manager, even before the coroner had collected Seth's body from his home. All future tour dates were canceled, and they would soon find Victim Unknown was done.
But it was through endless police questioning and news reports where Tara learned that, of course, Layla Dane was a person of interest in the case of her husband's death. Police considered the possibility that Layla had been abducted and was being held against her will. But the theory wasn't likely. The couple's bank account had been emptied the morning following his death, before Seth's body was ever discovered. And though her car remained parked in their garage, it appeared some of her clothing and belongings were missing. Everybody was shocked, and nobody revealed any knowledge of what had happened to Layla. So an all points manhunt ensued for the missing widow.
Tara was understandably, a nervous wreck following the grisly discovery. But she honored her promise to Layla and stuck to the story she'd been told to tell. Within a week, she was officially cleared of any involvement, as was the rest of the band. And they went their separate ways.
Within two weeks, the news coverage on the story slowed as other stories sprang into the limelight. Within three weeks, there still was no word on the whereabouts of Layla Dane. Within four weeks, the whole thing seemed forgotten altogether and the general consensus was that the case had gone cold.
After six weeks passed, Tara began to grow excited that she would soon hear from her beloved, whom she missed and worried about obsessively. But no word came.
By the time three months passed, she began to fear that Layla had changed her mind. She stopped sleeping, stopped eating, and began thoroughly falling apart.
Tara Outeridge had been left utterly alone in the world with a dead man's blood on her hands.
Six Months Later
T
ara returned to her apartment exhausted after a late shift at the hospital where she was a nurse. She grabbed her mail on the way in.
Once inside her door, she dropped her purse and keys on a hallway table, and began flagging through the mail. Mostly bills, with one first class pouch. She momentarily tried to recall if she'd ordered something but couldn't imagine what it might be. She carried the pouch into her small kitchen and took a seat at a table to open it.
Several things toppled out. A passport, an I.D., a social security card, and a birth certificate. Amazingly, the items with a photo, displayed her own image, only with short black hair, which must have been photoshopped. But the name on all the documentation was Elsa Anderson. Tara gasped, and tears began spilling down her cheeks. She reached into the envelope again and produced a bundle of hundred dollar bills and a note.
The only thing on the slip of paper was a Canadian address and the words, "It's time."
She leapt up from the table so fast, she overturned her chair.
***
A total of three weeks had passed since Grace Webster sent the package to her friend in the states.
She sat glumly on her back porch early one morning gazing into the first hints of sunshine creeping over the horizon. Her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee and tears glistened in her eyes. She knew she'd let a long time pass. An excruciatingly painful amount of time. Elsa Anderson may have given up. May have assumed she'd forgotten her, or blown her off. It would be totally understandable if Elsa had decided to bow out of Grace's twisted little world.
And her world certainly had changed. Along with her new identity, she'd been able to secure a new set of credentials and get a job teaching fifth graders in the local public school. She loved her kids, and she'd made nice friends. She maintained a quiet, pleasant existence and there wasn't a thing wrong with it. But it certainly was different.
She didn't dare sing a note, and she no longer owned a guitar.
There had been several stressful heartbeats where someone in a gas station or grocery store would glance at her and that look of not knowing why exactly they recognized her would momentarily pass over a stranger's face. But then it would pass, and Grace's heart would resume beating. But she knew she could never play music again. Placing herself on any stage anywhere would certainly make the puzzle pieces fall in place for some onlooker.
Maybe Elsa anticipated that life would have changed dramatically for Grace. Maybe Elsa wasn't interested in that quiet, secretive life. She could understand that. What she'd asked of Elsa was almost insurmountable. She had to face it.
The great love of her life had changed her mind. Grace would remain alone forever.
Those were the thoughts playing on her mind when she heard her doorbell rang.
She glanced at her watch and wondered at the early hour. Who could it be? Her heart accelerated dramatically, but she refused to let herself hope it would be Elsa at the door.
Yet when Grace threw open her door, there she stood. A raven haired, thinner, peaked looking version of the lover she recalled with every second she existed.
"Layla," whispered the woman at the door.
"Tara," she whispered, reaching out to pull the woman into her embrace. Weeping, the two women stumbled inside wrapped in each other's arms and kissing like tomorrow would never come.
***
It was late in the afternoon before the women spoke a single word other than exclamations of passion. They made love passionately, vigorously, as though not a day had passed for hours leading up to that time. When finally they lay spent and exhausted in Grace's bed, they found words to communicate.
"I thought you weren't coming," Grace said with a hint of heartbreak.
Elsa smiled and caressed Grace's cheek. "I thought it would be best, after as careful as we've been, and as well as this all has gone… If I gave two weeks' notice at my job and told everyone I was moving back east with my family. That way no one would look for me when I left."
Grace nodded. "That was great thinking. Very smart. I was just so terrified you'd changed your mind."
Elsa gave Grace's flaming locks a little tug. "Not a chance. I thought
you'd
changed
your
mind! But, we both just needed time. To lay Tara and Layla to rest and begin again."
"I hope you're happy with the life I've started for us here. And if you're not, we'll go someplace else, OK?"
Elsa placed a gentle flutter of kisses on Grace's eyelids. "I'll be happy in any life with you, my love."
***
Elsa soon found employment in a nearby doctor's office and the women settled into a blissful routine. Within months, they legally married in a small ceremony along a lake they often liked to walk around in a local park. After a year of applications and nerve wracking investigations into their backgrounds, the couple adopted a baby girl who they named Delia Webster. Their life and family was complete and their sordid secret seemed far behind them. It was as though they'd always been together and they could almost forget about it completely…
… As long as neither of them ever sang a song.
Four Years Later
E
lsa had the day off so Grace ran home on her lunch break to visit for a few private minutes while Delia was in school. As a wild, free spirited ball of energy, Delia demanded constant attention from her mothers, so they rarely found times for stolen moments anymore. Which was just the way they enjoyed it, but still, it was nice to once in a while be free of the busy life of the kindergartener.
Grace was preparing salads at the kitchen counter when Elsa sidled up behind her. She wrapped her arms around Grace and nuzzled her. Grace sighed as Elsa began kissing her neck and roaming hands slipped inside her blouse to find her breasts. With a groan, Grace spun to face her wife.
Elsa devoured her with a hot, dominant kiss, while wasting no time hiking up the hem of Grace's skirt and slipping frantic fingers inside her lacy thong. "Oh, yes," Grace moaned against Elsa's mouth. Elsa slipped two fingers inside her and began moving them slowly, in then out.
After a moment, she placed her hands on Grace's hips, and helped her hop up onto the counter. Grace reclined breathlessly against the cabinets as Elsa tore her legs open and dropped to her knees. Grace's filthy utterances were the usual music to Elsa's ears as she buried her face into her lover's soaking wetness.
And then the doorbell rang.
Both women gasped and reflexively jerked apart. Then they giggled bashfully. "Just ignore it," Elsa said, once again approaching Grace.
"Wait," Grace said, bringing her legs together and sliding off the counter. "Delia's
iPad
is arriving today, remember? If we don't sign for it, they won't leave it and we'll have to track it down later." Elsa pouted and hoisted herself onto her feet. Grace chuckled. "Come on, it'll just take a minute and then we can get back to… Business."
The doorbell rang again, and both women meandered to the door. But when they opened the door, it wasn't a delivery man they found waiting. In fact, it was four men. And they all wore nice grey suits, and badges.
"Layla Dane? Tara Outeridge?" said one of the men in a deep serious voice.
Grace's heart dropped.
"You have the right to remain silent."
"No…" Grace murmured. "NOOOOOOOO!"
Her instinct was to run, but they had her before she even took one full step.
Epilogue
T
he death of Seth St. John was back in the news when Layla and Tara were extradited to L.A. for trial. It was a gut wrenching and grueling time as the women were separated from their daughter who was placed in temporary foster care until an outcome could be determined.
Both women spent several months in a women's penitentiary while they're trial played out. But finally, their trauma came to a close. Evidence and witness testimony worked their magic and the jury and judge took pity on the duo. Contrary to what Layla had believed, it had been common knowledge that Seth abused her. And once it became known that Tara had been present the night of his death, physical evidence supported their claim that Layla had stabbed him to prevent him from brutally raping her lover.
In the end, all they were found guilty of was fleeing and alluding, and identity fraud. These were in and of themselves serious offenses which carried hefty consequences. Their marriage was rendered invalid, and their adoption of Delia was also negated since it was all obtained under false pretenses. However, given the circumstances, the judge showed mercy on them by assigning them both ten years of strict probation, hundreds of hours of community service, and he set them free with suspended sentences and credit for time served. Because they'd been the only parents Delia had ever known, and had provided her with a healthy, happy living environment, she was returned to their. They were allowed to begin the legal adoption process again. They made plans to remarry in the future, and focused on returning their life to L.A. so as not to violate the terms of their parole.
It was a difficult and trying time, but all they cared about was that their family had been reunited. And, in the end, they felt the hell they went through was worth it to be able to live free of secrets for the first time since they'd met.
Within weeks of their release, Layla came home to their apartment one day carrying a used bass guitar, and a rhythm just like the one she'd once played. Tara and Delia watched with wide eyes as Layla returned to the car and wrestled with removing a small amp from the backseat. Tara rushed to help her.
"What in the world are you up to?" Tara asked as they hefted the musical equipment out of the car. She gave her lover a questioning smile.
"Time to plug back in," Layla said with a delighted grin.
"What's that mommy?" Delia asked as they finished hauling the amp inside.
"Well," Layla said cheerfully, taking a seat on the couch, and pulling Delia onto her lap. "I bet you didn't know this, but… You're mommies used to be rock stars!"
Delia gasped. "No you did not either!" the little girl insisted.
Tara and Layla giggled. "Yes ma'am, it's true!" Tara declared.
Just as soon as they had their new toys tuned and set up, the addiction resumed with an unstoppable intensity. The music flowed as though it had never stopped.
***
It wasn't hard for Layla and Tara to find new bandmates and it was
definitely
not hard to find venues. In fact, as soon as word spread around L.A. that Layla Dane and Tara Outeridge had returned to the music scene, venues fought over booking them for shows. They played five shows within the first week of opening to gigs.
They emerged from the stage after an energetic Saturday night show at a busy night club. And it was after that show when they were approached back stage by a man who brandished a business card, and suggested they get into his office Monday morning and sign a record deal.
The End
Female/Female Romance and Ménage Titles:
