Plain Jane (33 page)

“You’re using those dogs to hold us here against our will. That’s illegal,” Ben Nolan blustered.

Jane pretended to look shocked. “Surely you jest, Mr. Nolan,” she said, giving him a sideways look. “If you want to leave, then by all means leave.
I
wouldn’t think of stopping you.”

“Yeah, right. The second one of us heads for that door, those dogs will be on us like stink on shit.”

“Shit? Hmm. What an interesting way of putting it,” she said. “Tsk, tsk, gentlemen,” Jane said, clucking her tongue. “Flash and Kimba are highly trained K-9s. They would never attack unless they were given a direct order to go after a bad guy. You know, a robber, a mugger, or a rapist.”

“Screw this. You’re trying to intimidate us with those dogs,” Pete Zachary sputtered. He was so deep into the cushions of the chair, Jane thought he was going to push through to the other side. “You can’t do this. This is illegal. You’re threatening us and holding us here against our will, hoping we’ll confess to what you want to hear.”

Jane clucked her tongue again. “Let’s see if I have this right. You think I’m threatening you and using these dogs to hold you here against your will.” She placed her index finger on the side of her nose, pretending to give the matter some thought. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you all threaten Connie and me? Didn’t you hold us against our will? Don’t you think we were afraid of what you would do to us?” Her voice dropped an octave. “How does it feel, you miserable, stinking bastards?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Marcus said, his face ugly with fear. “You’ll hear from my lawyer. I’ll sue your ass off.”

Jane bristled. “Lawyers and lawsuits don’t frighten me. And you don’t frighten me. Not anymore. Let’s cut to the chase here and spit it all out, shall we?” She reached over and petted Flash’s head. “Now what’s it going to be?”

“Fuck you,” Marcus spit.

Kimba, a sleek ninety-pound, black-and-gold shepherd growled at his tone.

“It’s okay, girl. You didn’t mean that, did you, Marcus? You have to be careful what you say around these K-9s. These dogs are easily agitated, and they pick up on emotion and tone.”

Trixie entered the room carrying a tray with two cups and a plate with four cookies on it.

“Ohhh, this is good. It really hits the spot.” Jane turned her back on the men in the room and winked at Trixie. “So listen, Trix, I need some advice,” she said just loud enough for the others to hear. “What do you think I should wear next week when I go to meet Mike’s parents? I could wear that burnt orange dress I bought before Christmas or maybe that frilly thing with the lace at the throat. What do you think?”

“I like that cranberry-colored dress with the slit up the side. Wear your Vera Wang scarf with it. Chunky gold earrings. That will make a nice impression.”

“What are they doing?” Jane whispered.

Trixie lifted her eyebrows and looked askance at the seven men. “I think they’re dead. Not a one of them is moving, not even twitching,” Trixie hissed.

“Let’s smoke a cigarette. They’re all smokers, and they must be dying for one about now. Make sure you blow the smoke in their direction.”

Jane had never enjoyed a cigarette so much. When she was through, she crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, grabbed two dog treats off the tray, then returned to her chair between Flash and Kimba. One of the treats she handed to Flash and the other she tossed to Kimba, whose jaws snapped shut on the morsel of food like a sprung trap.

“You three,” she said, pointing to Mitch, Tony, and Brian, “can go. If you want to file charges against me, get in line. I’m never going to forget or forgive you for what you did that night. I want you to know that. I also want you to know that I won’t shed one tear when you’re all sentenced. And you
will
be sentenced. That’s a given.”

The three left the
U
of furniture, walking slowly, cautiously, past Flash and Kimba.

“I don’t think any of us are going to be filing any charges, Doc,” Brian said.

“I waited a lot of years to see this,” Tony Larsen said. “You know what? I’m glad it’s coming to a head. I’ll do whatever it takes to put it behind me.”

“That goes for me, too,” Mitch Iverson added.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Jane motioned them ahead of her. “I want you to know that I didn’t see anybody’s face that night, so other than my gut instinct, I don’t know who did what.”

“I told you the truth. We aren’t the ones who raped Connie,” Brian said. “The DNA will be our safety net. Our proof.”

Jane nodded. “I believe you. How long do you think they’ll hold out?” she asked, glancing behind her.

“It’s anybody’s guess,” Brian said grimly. “Todd is never going to give it up. He has too much to lose. You might have to call his father-in-law.”

She let them out and watched the three men walk away, then made her way to the kitchen, where Trixie was brewing a pot of coffee, Olive and Golda at her feet.

“I don’t know what you’ve got planned, Janie,” Trixie said. “Where is this going? How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“I’ve come this far. I can wait until they’re ready to confess. They can’t hold out forever. You know what, Trixie? If I’d thought of this sooner, you and Fred wouldn’t have had to do that thing with the contest at LSU. I think this is going to wrap it up.”

“It doesn’t matter, honey. Endowing a university is never a waste of money. I’m glad we did it. Like Fred said, a pair of hands on the book cover with the football will make it a great jacket. We’d do it all over again.”

Jane smiled wanly. “All the hatred, all the misery, it’s gone, Trixie. I feel like I’ve been reborn. When they first walked into the room, I knew I was capable of killing. If I’d had a gun, I would have fired it. I never felt such blind rage in all my life. One second it was there, and the next second it was gone.”

Trixie wrapped her skinny arms around Jane’s shoulders. “That’s a good thing. I bet if I wanted to, I could work a whole series of books around this one event. What we’re doing here is definitely illegal,” Trixie said, her voice cheerfully at odds with the situation.

“I know. Even if they confess and we get it on tape, will it hold up in court? I can only hope so. Hell, Trixie, I have my doubts it will ever even
get
to court. I don’t know what to do now.”

“What do you want to do?”

“An hour ago I would have said I’d like to cut off their balls, but now, I don’t know. I’m way out of my league here and we both know it.”

“Let’s give them an hour or so, then you can tease them a bit with the telephone. You have the computer line in the office. I can go in there and turn down the ringer and you can call that number and pretend you’re calling whomever. You have all their info from the alumni, right?”

“Do you really think they’ll fall for the telephone thing?”

“Right now, I think they’ll believe anything. They all look a little green to me, but then maybe it’s your lighting. Are Flash and Kimba priceless or what?” Trixie trilled.

“You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?” Jane snapped.

The only sound coming from the living room was that of panting dogs guarding their captives. The room was exactly as she’d left it . . . the ashtrays dirty and the two cocoa cups on the table. It seemed to Jane that something should have changed.

She sat down and crossed her legs. “Doesn’t anyone want to say anything?” She looked from one to the other. “No, huh? Okay, how about this? One minute from now, unless somebody starts talking to me and telling me what I want to hear, I’m going to call your families, then the police, then the news hot line. So, I’m asking you nicely, do any of you have anything to say?”

“You’re crazy,” Todd said, eyeing Flash, then Kimba. “If those three raped Connie, they did it on their own. I did tell everybody I was trying to break it off with her, and I asked them for advice. But that’s all. I didn’t want to hurt her. I was young and stupid. I should have had the guts to just come out and tell her, but I didn’t. How the hell do you tell someone you’ve been sleeping with and who was as nice as Connie that you’re in love with someone else?”

“You liar,” Marcus Appleton shouted. “You set it up. You had a goddamn diagram showing us where to do it and how messy you wanted it to be. You were so specific I wanted to puke. You know what else, I kept the fucking diagram in case something ever went down like it’s going down right now. It’s all in your handwriting.” He turned to Jane and laughed. “And here’s the best part. I couldn’t get it up that night, so you aren’t going to find any of my DNA on Connie’s clothes. If you stop and think about it, Miss Shrink, I was the one who punched you in the gut. I did that while the rape was going on. If you think hard enough, you’ll remember. Ben and Pete did it. And yeah, I’m the one you bit. That’s it as far as building a case against me, Doc.”

“What’s your feeling on writing all that down?” Jane asked, her head whirling with the information Appleton had just given up. A diagram. Todd Prentice had actually made a diagram. Like Marcus, she wanted to puke.

“Swear to me that dog won’t attack me, and I’ll write it in capital letters for you.”

“And . . .” Jane prompted.

“And this never happened. I’m giving a statement of my own free will. Get that other lady to witness it. You don’t get the diagram, my lawyer gets it.”

Trixie, her face blank, handed over a legal yellow pad and pen. “That’s fair. You best get yourself a good lawyer, son,” she said quietly.

Both women watched as Appleton scribbled furiously.

The room still hadn’t changed. Why weren’t things different? Everybody seemed to be breathing the same way, taking little gasping puffs of air for fear of aggravating the dogs. A sliver of moonlight could be seen on one of the end tables.
That
was different. It hadn’t been there a little while ago. Did that count as a change? There was a second little difference, Appleton’s scratching pen.

Jane waited patiently for Marcus to finish writing. Four down and three to go.
I’m doing my best, Connie,
she thought.
My methods might be a tad unorthodox, but if I get the job done, who cares? I’ll try to find a way so that your parents don’t have to see that diagram. I don’t think they can handle that.

“You better read it, because you aren’t getting another crack at me,” Appleton said, his voice tight.

Jane read the paper carefully, amazed at how graphic, how explicit, and how detailed the account was. She handed it to Trixie.

“Okay, sign it, date it, and we’ll both witness it. You can leave after that.”

Trixie escorted the ex-football player to the door. The sound of screeching tires rang in Jane’s ears.

“Okay, who wants to go next?” Jane dangled the portable phone by the antenna.

“I want a lawyer,” Pete Zachary said.

“I do, too,” Ben Nolan agreed.

“Do you hear that, Trixie? These guys want lawyers. Guess we have to let them go. Soon as a suspect says
lawyer,
you gotta back down. Flash! Show these guys the door.”

Jane looked around. The room was still the same. Damn, why was that? She’d actually done something momentous, and nothing changed. She was finally going to get some justice for Connie Bryan.

“Guess you’re the only one left, Prentice. I want to tell you that I think you are the scum of the earth. It’s all over. You really thought you were going to get away with it, didn’t you? A diagram? You made a
diagram
? Mister, you are one sick, sorry, son of a bitch. I hope you realize there’s no way out of this for you. When Pete and Ben get done with you, they’ll have you at the scene of the crime. They’ll probably say you were lurking in the bushes shouting instructions. For your information, Article 571.1 says there is no time limit on aggravated rape or aggravated sexual battery. Your lawyer will know the article numbers. Go on, get your sorry ass out of here before I boot it all the way to Baton Rouge.”

“There goes a piss-poor excuse for a man,” Trixie said, popping a bottle of Corona. She handed it to Jane. She took a long pull from her own bottle before she said, “You did it, Janie. You pulled it off. I have to admit I had a few bad moments there for a while. The man actually made a diagram. That’s the sickest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I had a lot of bad moments,” Jane said. “I feel like I’ve been to war and back. I thought I was going to feel good, but for some reason, I don’t. I don’t know what I feel. At the very least, I should be feeling relief that I finally, finally, had the guts to bring this all to a head. Maybe tomorrow will be different. What do you think the outcome will be, Trixie?”

“It will go to court. Everyone will cut deals. It will make the papers no matter how they try to keep it quiet. As far as punishment goes, I don’t know, Janie. If this was a book and I was writing this particular ending, I’d have Todd Prentice cash in whatever he had in his name and split. Don’t be surprised if that happens. I just don’t know, Jane. For you, it’s over. I think your friend Connie can rest in peace now.”

“I hope so.”

“If you help me load up my dogs, I think I’ll head home. My fella is waiting to hear the outcome of this little party we had. Sleep tight, baby.”

“I’m too wired to sleep. I think I’ll sit here and do nothing. Just me and Olive. Mike might call later. I miss him. You don’t think any of them will come back here, do you?”

Trixie laughed. “You are the last person on this earth that they ever want to see again. Trust me on that one.”

“Thanks, Trixie,” Jane said, herding the dogs into the van. “See you tomorrow.”

Trixie waved, sounded the horn, then roared off across the field.

19

Spring came to Rayne, Louisiana, the same way it did every year. The lion had roared briefly, but the gentle lamb had somehow managed to win out by sheer perseverance. Gentle rains had fallen for days on end, followed by long, lazy days of warm, golden sunshine. The perfect mix of rain and sun were just what the earth needed to bring it back to life.

This year the flowers appeared more lush, more plentiful, and incredibly fragrant. The perennial flower beds were alive with color and growth, a perfect background for the fifty-gallon magnolia tree Jane had planted over Billy Jensen’s grave. Jane stared now at the magnificence of the tree, at the huge, emerald, waxy leaves that already created a shady resting place for the young boy’s remains.

Spring is always a time of new beginnings,
Jane thought. When the rains started to fall, she’d spent hours on the back porch thinking and planning. In the end, she came to the conclusion that the rains had a cleansing effect not only on the land and gardens but on her heart as well. Billy was right. You have to let it go, he’d said. That meant letting go of all her old hatred and insecurities where her mother was concerned.

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

How many times had she said those very same words to her patients? Hundreds. And when they’d asked how, she’d answered “forgive them.”

Jane sipped from her coffee cup, her third so far this morning. She liked watching the sun come up and loved sitting in her nightgown on the back steps with Olive. This was her favorite time of day, when things weren’t yet under way. A time when she could still make a decision and know she could either carry it through or cancel it out. A precious time. A private time.

She leaned back against one of the pillars that supported the roof and closed her eyes.
Let it all go, Jane. Forgive and forget. You’re starting a new life soon. Don’t carry even an ounce of your old baggage into your marriage with Mike. Just open your heart and let it all go.

Jane stared out across the garden. It was the second day of April, over two months since she’d hosted the meeting with Connie Bryan’s attackers. Two long months since she’d turned over the pictures, the computer disks, and the paper bag containing Connie’s belongings to her lawyer, who in turn handed them over to the police.

After the initial flurry of newspaper articles and the daily five-minute segments on the local news, things had died down. They reared up again when indictments came down. Things had heated up even more the day Connie’s parents came to town and gave interviews to anyone interested in hearing their story. They’d even stopped by her house and thanked her by giving her a needlepoint pillow Connie had made the summer before she died.

It was over. She’d handed over the evidence, given her deposition, and as far as she was concerned, she’d done all she could do. She had even come to terms with the fact that she’d broken her promise to Connie. Sometimes the end did justify the means. Just yesterday Trixie had asked her if she knew what was happening with Brian and Pete and the rest of them. Other than knowing they were all out on bail, Jane didn’t know anything else; nor did she care to know. It was out of her hands, and her life was going to go on no matter what happened to them.

Her coffee cup was empty. That meant it was time to go indoors and get ready for work. After today there would be a thirty-day period of doing nothing but paperwork until the next wave of dogs arrived. She was going to use those same thirty days to prepare for her wedding at the end of June.

She looked down at Olive. Ever-loyal, ever-faithful Olive. “I bet if we really try, we can be ready and at work in forty-five minutes, give or take the eight minutes it takes to get to Trixie’s house. You up for a little hustle and bustle, Olive old girl?”

“Woof.”

Jane was about to set her replenished coffee cup down on the night table, only to realize there was no space. Next to the lamp, nestled between the digital clock and a picture of her and Mike, was a lavender, double blossom azalea bloom. Beside it was Jeeter’s ball. Jane whirled around. “Billy! Jeeter!” She searched the room but didn’t see them. “Olive, are they here?”

Olive pawed at the burlap ball until it fell on the floor. She picked it up and carried it over to her bed.

Jane picked up the delicate bloom. It was perfect in every detail and incredibly fresh. Why didn’t azaleas have a scent? Something so gorgeous should have a heady, intoxicating fragrance. “I think Billy likes what we did, and this is his way of thanking us,” Jane said. Olive cocked her head to the side as if to say, “so you finally believe.” “I know, I know. I was a doubting Thomas, but I’m a believer now. I just wish I hadn’t called him a spook.”

Jane headed for the bathroom, the azalea bloom still in her hand. She rinsed out the glass she used to gargle with, filled it with water, and carried it back to the bedroom, where she set it down next to the picture of her and Mike standing by the newly planted magnolia tree. “Thanks, Billy,” she whispered.

A short while later Jane stopped the car at the gates to the McGuire farm. “Told you, Olive, fifty-one minutes flat. I should have been an accountant since I’m so good with numbers. Bean counters are boring, though. It just means I’m punctual. Let’s see what Trixie has on deck for us today.” Jane held the car door open for Olive.

A cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, coffee cup in hand, feet propped on a chair, Trixie beckoned for Jane to sit down. Today she was attired in her favorite going-to-the-police-station outfit, a leopard print jumpsuit.

“You look like you’re going somewhere, Trixie.”

“I’m taking Flash and Golda down to the station to see the guys. We’ve been working round the clock, and they need a day off. Olive is welcome to come. We’re going to Burger King for lunch. I miss John and the dogs already, and they only left yesterday,” she went on. “I hope we made wise decisions where their handlers are concerned.”

“Trixie, you gave them the third degree, you had them investigated out the kazoo, and you threatened them with castration. You told them in gory detail how bloody they would be if one of those dogs got so much as a scratch. I don’t think you have to worry about the dogs.”

Trixie’s feet slapped down on the kitchen floor. She looked around at the messy kitchen. “Why do you suppose I never got a housekeeper, Janie?”

“You didn’t want anyone underfoot, and you were afraid if you did get one that she might ferret out your secret.”

“Tell Fred it’s his turn to clean up. Don’t do it for him. He’s getting lazy where his chores are concerned. I mean it, Janie.”

“Okay, okay. When I finish entering everything into the computer, do you mind if I take the rest of the morning off? I want to look for a wedding dress. Time is flying by, and I haven’t done much yet.”

“Take as much time as you want. The only thing that’s imperative is the paperwork for the dogs’ shields.”

“I’ll finish it up this morning and take everything to the post office on my way. Have a good day, Trixie.”

“You, too, sweetie. Let’s haul ass, gang!” Trixie shouted as she opened the screen door. Jane laughed the whole time she was cleaning up the kitchen.

Jane sat in her car in front of her parents’ old house and stared at it. She wondered where she’d gotten the idea that destroying it would give her the peace she longed for. Obviously, she hadn’t been thinking rationally at the time. A house was just a house: wood, drywall, and shingles.

She’d signed the escrow papers two weeks ago, done her walk-through with the realtor, and hadn’t come back since. She stared at the house, trying to block out all the bad memories. The past was gone, and she’d promised herself she was going to let it go. Now was the time to keep her promise and now was the time to make peace with her mother.

First, though, she needed to call Mike. When she heard his voice, the tension left her shoulders. She leaned back and relaxed. “Hey, it’s me. Whatcha doing?”

“I was sitting here thinking about you as I eat my lunch, which, by the way, is three hours late. Before you can ask, it’s an apple and a yogurt. Where are you?”

“Sitting in my car in front of my parents’ house. You’ll be pleased to know I found a wedding dress this morning, so it’s okay for us to get married now. It’s not fancy or anything, but I like it. It just goes to my ankles, kind of
cocktailish
if you know what I mean. And a veil and shoes. I’m good to go.”

“That’s great. See? You were dithering over nothing. I knew you’d find just what you wanted. Hell, you could wear burlap and that funky hat, and it would be okay with me. I miss you, Jane. We haven’t seen each other for three days.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Mine. This is what happens when you allow yourself to get personally involved. Your time is no longer your own. It really is a great feeling, though. By the way, Willie is only packing one D cell battery these days. The hypnosis is working. He says he carries it now for good luck only. I’m okay with that, and so is he. I figure I can cut him loose after a few more sessions. You wouldn’t believe the change in him. He sent a fruit basket to the office.”

Jane watched a group of children playing stickball in the middle of the road. “That’s great, Mike. I’m glad it all worked out. What was the trauma?”

“He was watching television one night and there was a kid in a wheelchair who lost control and rolled down a hill and into a pond. In the movie the child died. That’s it in a nutshell.”

“That’ll do it. Mike, a strange thing happened this morning. Tell me what you think.” Jane rattled off the early-morning episode with the azalea bloom.

“I get goose bumps just hearing about it,” Mike said. “Does this make you a believer now?”

“More or less. I was thinking about Billy while I was drinking my coffee on the steps. Then when I went upstairs . . . A flower is a tangible thing. You can touch it, feel it, smell it. Well, you can’t exactly smell azaleas, but you know what I mean.”

“Accept it or reject it, Jane. The choice is yours. Listen, I have to go. My next appointment is due any second. By the way, what did you think of the show this morning? Was I hot or what?”

Jane didn’t have the heart to tell him she hadn’t tuned in. “You were hot, Mike,” she fibbed. Little white lies were acceptable if they made another person feel good.

“I think the audience is starting to accept me,” he said, sounding excited. “You were right, I had to loosen up and go with the flow. Willie called in, and that was good. Gotta run. See you around nine, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Jane said, pressing the END button.

Jane got out of the car and walked up the driveway to the house she’d grown up in. She turned to survey the neighborhood. She could barely remember it. What she could see told her the neighbors took pride in their lawns and shrubbery. Her parents’ house, with its overgrown lawn and unpruned bushes, was the sloppiest one on the street. She really and truly hated this place, and that’s what it was, a place. It’s now or never, she thought grimly as she unlocked the kitchen door. While the temperature outside was seventy degrees, the inside of the house felt like it was fifty. She shivered as she walked through the rooms.

“I’m here, Mother! Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she singsonged. “This is going to be the best day you’ve had for a long time. Where are you? Come on, I don’t have all day. Let’s get to it,” she said as she opened the little cubbyhole under the staircase. She yanked at the string attached to the light socket, but nothing happened.

“I’m here, Jane, behind you.”

Jane whirled around.

“I know why you’re here, Jane. It’s wrong. Please, I don’t want to hear the words.”

“How could you possibly know why I’m here? I didn’t know myself that I was coming here until a little while ago. I came to . . .” A featherlike touch to her lips stopped her short of speaking.

“Don’t say it. Once you say the words it will be too late. Please, sit down here on the window seat and listen to me. I don’t want you to forgive me, Jane. I don’t want you to send me to the other side. Please, let me stay here. Let me try to atone for all my past wrongs. I told you when you were here the last time that I get lonely. If you let me stay, you can visit me from time to time. When you have children, you can bring them here so I can see them. Please, I don’t want to leave,”
she begged.

Jane leaned back against the wall and rubbed her temples. She could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes. “Let me get this straight. You don’t want me to forgive you. You want to stay here in this empty house and flip-flop around for all eternity. Then you expect me to come here and visit you and bring my kids if I’m fortunate enough to have any. This will make you feel better about being such a lousy mother?”

“Yes.”

“I should agree to this . . . why?”

“Because despite everything I did wrong, you turned into a beautiful human being. I want to prove to you that I love you, that I care about you. Staying here instead of going to the other side is the only way I know how to do that.”

“One of us is crazy, and it isn’t me,” Jane mumbled. “Trixie always said you were nuts. She hates your guts . . . did hate your guts. Fred never liked you either. Did anyone ever like you? Did you have any friends? Of course you didn’t. You loved yourself, and that was all you needed. I get so tired listening to you.” She drew her knees toward her chest and looked out the front window. “I’m getting married in June,” she said for no reason she could think of. “I picked out my dress today and my veil and my shoes. Fred’s going to give me away, and Trixie is going to be my matron of honor. Don’t say what you’re thinking, Mother. Trixie is going to make a wonderful matron of honor.”

“Yes, she will. I’m sorry I won’t be able to attend.”

Jane was incredulous. “Would you want to?”

“Of course.”

Taken aback by her mother’s words, Jane could only nod.

Jane thought a moment. “I
could
have the wedding here, then you could . . . you know, circle around, do your thing. Mike might agree to that. Trixie and Fred won’t like it, but if it’s what I want, they’ll go along with it. I’ll think about it.”