Un-Connected (5 page)

After about an hour on the road, she glanced
at me. “You killed someone, didn’t you?”

“No,” I simply said.

We drove on in silence. I guess she was glad
she had me sleep outside, or maybe she wished she had gotten rid of me
entirely. Now she believed I was a killer. I was glad for one thing, though.
She knew I wasn’t crazy and knew there were some bad people trying to kill me.

            She
sighed. “We need to have a long talk, and you need to do some explaining. Your
mother wanted to know if you really killed her. I told her what you said about
not doing anything wrong, but you owe me, and I want to know the truth.”

My head was spinning. I was so grateful for
what she had done and was so impressed with how well she handled things. I
wanted to tell her the truth but was afraid the more I told her, the less
likely she would be to help me.

Would I tell her the whole truth? Was she
ready for that? What if she wanted me to prove something I couldn’t prove? What
if she decided to turn me over? At this point I guess I would rather be turned
over to the police. At least I would have a chance to live. A low-percentage
chance is better than a zero chance. I would have zero chance with the killers.

Nothing real serious happened the rest of the
day, and the night was pretty much the same. She didn’t push me for a quick
answer and I was glad. We ate supper with small talk and visits with other
people. We got our showers, and I got a good night’s sleep. I was more used to
the nighttime noises now, and they didn’t waken me as much. But the next
morning, Deb didn’t look like she had slept well at all.

“Should we talk right here standing by the
truck, or should it be over breakfast?” she asked.

“It is up to you. It will take a while, and I
don’t want my story to upset your breakfast.” I answered. “I’m so drained I
need breakfast, even though I got a good night’s rest.

“Me too,” she said. “A month ago I wouldn’t
have believed anything could upset my breakfast, but now I am not sure. You had
better tell the truth because I will try to verify everything you say. A Jersey
girl is hard to fool.”

             I
wanted to be honest. It was the least I owed her. She suggested we eat now and
then stop somewhere down the road and get a cup of coffee. “I want to look you
in the eye while we talk. I want to know that you are being truthful so I want
you to look back at me straight in the eyes as you tell me everything.” She
said.

After breakfast and a short drive, she pulled
off the interstate.

We found a quiet big restaurant with a lot of
empty parking spaces.  She parked and we sat away from most of the other
customers in a corner booth with our backs to the wall.

“You were right about me not telling you
everything. I apologize.  I was afraid to tell you everything before. Now I will
tell you anything you want to know.” I paused to catch my breath and steady my
nerves.  I didn’t like thinking about it and talking about it but I knew I had
to.

I told her the whole thing. I told her about
my job, Rebecca’s job, and our lives together. I told her about our home,
people we loved, people who were family and friends. I told her about the night
that was still such a nightmare, even now.  I paused as the emotion rose in my
chest and I couldn’t speak for a minute and tears came to my eyes.

I told her how my emotions were a roller
coaster with sadness, depression, hopelessness, and loneliness.  My telling her
made me cry when I couldn’t stop a swell of emotion that swung to fear. I had
trouble breathing at times. I talked to her about crying in the restaurant the
day we met. I said the tears and emotion were real, and I was not conning her.

“When we first met, you asked me about things
I had done. You said I looked as if I had just lost my best friend in the whole
world. You couldn’t have been more correct. Rebecca had been killed, but I
didn’t do it. And being suspected of doing it made me more depressed and
afraid.”

I wanted her to believe me and I wanted her
to know she had saved my life and she hadn’t been conned.

“You have saved my life.  If anyone had
caught me in the car, I would have been dead.”  I paused. “Please take me to California
or at least as far as Texas before you put me out. I need to be in a big town
where I can get lost. I need time to find out what really happened and to clear
my name.”

Then we sat there in silence for what seemed
a long time. I had a personal rule about deferring to her in any conversation
regarding what she wanted to talk about. After a while I broke my rule and
asked her what happened to my car.

Deb laughed. It was the first time I had seen
her laugh in several days. Helping me was wearing on her.

“I threw the license plate out into the weeds
and then found a guy who looked like he had cash on him. I told him I had my
ex-husband’s car and didn’t care what happened to it. I said I actually
preferred to have it stripped for parts. He could take the keys and drive it
away. I told him I would walk off and never look back, and he could drive the
car as long as he lived. I said I needed $2000 for another problem, and that
amount of money is what she wanted for the keys.”

He told her to go inside and wait for him. He
came and got her, and they walked to the car. He told her he had the money in
his pocket, and if the keys she gave him would start the car, he would throw
her the money.

“That is fine with me.” She told him.

The keys started the car, and he threw her
the money. She asked him what he wanted her to do so she wouldn’t see him drive
off.

He laughed. “Darlin’, you do what you want
’cause nobody can catch me now.” And he sped off as fast as the car would go.

I laughed a little too. She got rid of the
car, and no one is likely to find anything of it but parts. “I should have
thought of something similar. Your solution was ingenious, and I wished I had
thought of it.”

 “You weren’t thinking right about much of
anything at the time.” She said and she was right.

After a long pause I slowly asked, “OK, where
are we? Are you going to turn me over to someone? Are you going to verify
everything I said? Or are you going to strand me right here and now?”

I could hardly breathe because I was afraid
of her answer. I didn’t think I would live this long before.  She had been so
good to me. Now I was sure she was done with helping me and I couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know, but I want to verify a few
things.” She said.

“I’ll give you whatever phone numbers you
want.” I said and suggested she use an alias name and a different phone when
she called because she could get herself on someone’s hit list.

Deb agreed with me. Her code name would be
“Ann,” and she would pay cash for a prepaid cheap phone. Then she’d throw it
away when she had finished asking questions.

“You are still on probation.” She said with a
little sternness in her voice.

I was so relieved.  I didn’t know exactly
what being on probation with her would mean but I would take about anything
from her as opposed to being turned over to someone.

So we continued on toward California, and at
first nothing changed that I could tell but the weather.  We crisscrossed the
South while we were slowly working our way west. She still was careful not to
trust me too much, and I slept outside even in the dew and rare rain. I had a
tarp I could string over me to keep dry. Or at least out of the direct rain.  Now
she was leaving me alone more than she had while I watched TV.  She didn’t take
her showers while I was taking mine, so she had time away from me then too. I
guessed she was calling around to see who would verify what and didn’t want me
to be anywhere around when she was on the phone. She was also watching for a
black SUV while on the phone.  She didn’t say anything but her demeanor was
getting softer and I knew she had verified at least some of what I had told
her.  Also she didn’t mention me being on probation again so I knew things were
getting better.

Deb was a runner.  She told me I had messed
up her routine.  Before she took me into the truck she ran about five miles at
least three times a week.  She had beautiful runner’s legs.  It took her awhile
to get back into her routine of running.  The problem she had was not know what
to do with me while she was running.  After my hair got long enough with a
beard we felt I should be able to run and not be recognized.  So she talked me
into running with her.  The first day out I only made it three miles or so. 
She had run a shorter route suspecting I wouldn’t make five mile.  So she
dropped me off at the truck stop to walk to the truck and she ran out about a
mile and then back to get her five miles in.

A few days after I gave her the phone numbers
we were sitting at Oklahoma Joe’s Bar-B-Q just outside Kansas City.  We were
eating dinner when she said in this real low voice, “I guess you know you’re
wanted for murder. Some of your friends don’t believe you did it, and some
think it might be possible. Your parents don’t and neither do Rebecca’s.”

“The case has been turned over to the FBI. 
No one knows why it isn’t a police case any longer.  The police and FBI swept
your house and didn’t find as much as a hair that didn’t belong there. In their
opinion no one could have come in the house without leaving something
traceable.  There was no sign of forced entry and they are sure you did it.
They figured you two had an argument. You came after her with the letter
opener, and she pulled a gun to protect herself. You were too fast or too
strong, and she didn’t get off a shot.”

Deb had found a person who gave her the name
and number of an FBI agent who didn’t believe I did it. She called him. The FBI
guy told Deb he believed Ben was innocent and wanted to talk to me.

“Sure he does. So he can turn me in and get super
cop status.” I said and then paused.  When was this going to get better I was
asking myself?  Now I was really scared again and getting nauseated. “Did you
believe him?”

She nodded “yes”.

Neither of us said anything for several
minutes while I tried to think.

“Rebecca didn’t have a gun and wouldn’t have
pulled one if she did.” I said quietly. “She would fight hard but she has never
held a gun in her hands.  She wouldn’t know how to use it.”

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Do
you think I can do it safely?”

“I think you should call him.”  Deb said.

“I don’t want to.” I said and then paused.  “I
don’t know what to do, but you are the only person I have been able to trust up
until now. If you think I should, I will try. Will you help me?”

“Of course.  Look, the more I talked to
people about you, the more I confirmed what you said is true.  And I learned
some other things about you. It’s funny…I felt I already knew you and I felt
like you were telling me the truth. All this has confirmed what I believed was
true. I was beginning to find myself trusting you more and more and it scared
me to trust you. That fear is what made me want proof what you were saying was
true.”

Deb paused for a moment. “I like you
Sam
…”

She said my name with attitude as if she was
rubbing it in that I hadn’t given her my correct name.

“I mean, as strange as this sounds, whoever
you are, whatever your name is, you are right now one of my friends, and I
trust you.  You are reliable.  You don’t cause me any trouble…” She paused. “You
know what I mean.  And I haven’t been afraid to turn my back on you for several
months now.”

It was a relief to hear that from her as I
had begun to really feel close to her as well.  You can’t help that, I guess,
when you spend so much time with someone and you get along really well as we
did.

“That is just because I jump when you say
frog and I’m the best help you ever had.” I joked.

She smiled and went on telling me what she
had found out.  She told me about how my parents, Rebecca’s parents, and my
friends and co-workers had stood up for me.  They all knew I loved Rebecca, and
knew there was no way I would do anything to hurt her.

“And for an accountant, you aren’t a very
good financial planner if you’re a murderer.” She chuckled.  “You only had a
$100,000 life insurance policy on Rebecca.”

Deb paused and then said.  “Also Rebecca’s
parents said she didn’t know anything about guns and would not have picked up
one. She would have run or fought with lamps or fireplace tools but never a gun.
 So that checks out as well.  Actually everything you have told me appears to
be true.” 

“But you didn’t tell me the whole truth from
the beginning.  I’m not happy about that but I understand at least a little. 
You didn’t trust me either.  We were two strangers thrown into a truck cab all
day long trying to keep an eye on the other.”

“Anyway, the FBI guy had checked on the gun
in Rebecca’s hand. It wasn’t registered to her. It was registered to a guy in
Chicago, who had never been to Virginia, and he didn’t know it was missing.  He
called back later and confirmed he couldn’t find it after being alerted to the
crime.”