Killer Moves: The 4th Jolene Jackson Mystery (Jolene Jackson Mysteries) (28 page)

Chapter 33

The lobby of the rehab center was eerily quiet. The crowds of people I’d seen from outside earlier were gone. Only a few patients sat by the windows. All eyes turned toward us as we walked through, but no one said a word.

A young woman with a blonde ponytail and pink scrubs sat at the front desk, wearing a telephone headset and speaking deliberately as if reading. She paused and nodded to us, but quickly turned her gaze back to the sheet of paper in front of her. “Emergency personnel responded to a situation that occurred in the front parking lot, away from the facility. There is no danger to the building or occupants. All patients are safe. Daily activities and therapeutic appointments continue on schedule. No other information is available.”

It looked like Director Hall had taken my advice to heart. I was impressed. I also had the feeling this whole thing was going to be a huge wakeup call for her both personally and professionally.

The walk down the corridor to Lucille’s room was also unusually quiet—and felt strange. I stopped in front of the closed door, apprehensive about going in. Would she be in tears? Catatonic from shock? Had they given her medication to calm her down?

That last option was repugnant to me, but so was allowing my mother to have a mental breakdown. And after what she’d just done—had to do to save me—it had to taking a toll. So, whatever made it easier for her to get through this trauma was okay with me. Taking a deep breath, I said, “I just hope she’s okay.”

Jerry pushed the door open and walked inside.

I followed—or tried to.

Turned out, our first challenge in checking on Lucille was getting into the room. Four wheelchairs formed an arc in front of me, and in front of them, six or seven regular chairs. And in the big middle of it all, perched up in the bed as if holding court, was my mother.

She was neither in shock nor comatose. She was, however, about to be in big trouble.

The sheriff gritted his teeth, the muscles in his cheeks pulsing. He breathed heavily, a sort of growling sound that was his version of “Are you kidding me?”

“Jolene!” Lucille said, waving. “Come on over here! I was just telling everyone about my bra holster and how it works. Did you bring it back, Jerry Don? I promised I showed them.”

“Everyone needs to leave room now,” Jerry said, his voice firm and authoritative. No one moved. “Clear the room!” His voice boomed and even I jumped to attention. “Now!”

Seeing people starting to scurry, I hurried to the door and held it open.

Those in wheelchairs zipped out quickly. Those with canes and walkers took a little longer to get moving.

Jerry pointed to the two nurses who had been outside with Lucille. “Help get these patients back to their rooms, but do not leave this building until you have given statements.”

They both bobbed their heads, eyes wide. They began helping the patients out, and as the last one cleared the door, one of the nurses turned back to Jerry. “Sheriff, everybody was just here to keep her company,” she said. “Miss Lucille didn’t talk about what happened. Just told us about her gun, how it worked and how shooting out radiators were a good way to stop stalkers, that sort of thing.”

Jerry nodded to the nurse then looked at me with that old familiar “she’s your mother” glare.

“If you’re going to scold me, Jerry Don,” Lucille said. “You may as well hurry up and get to it.”

Jerry cleared a path through the chairs and sat down in the one closest to the bed. “You were specifically told not to discuss the matter with anyone.”

“And I didn’t,” she said. “I did not talk about anything they didn’t already know. Everybody peeking out the window saw me with my shirt pulled up over my head and holding a gun, and they all saw that pickup truck crash into the light post. I didn’t talk about it, but they all knew that much.”

The conversation was only going to get more contentious, so I busied myself with moving the extra chairs back against the wall out of the way. It didn’t take nearly long enough, because when I sat down in a chair at the foot of the bed, I was immediately dragged into the fray.

“Well, Jolene, I see that your fiancé is back to his old hateful self.”

“As are you,” Jerry said, matter-of-factly.

Hearing my mother’s true-to-form comment was actually a relief. I’d really expected her to be half comatose or having an emotional meltdown. She was neither. Maybe we’d both used up our quota of meltdowns.

“You do understand that a death just occurred,” Jerry said. “And that you are responsible.”

“I know what I did,” Lucille snapped, tipping up her nose. “And if you’re wanting me to say I’m sorry, well I most certainly will not. And if my daughter needs protecting, I promise you I will do the very same thing again. Nobody’s going to hurt my baby while I’m alive!”

A wave of warmth washed over me. She meant every word of what she said. I could feel it, and it touched me more than I could say—not that I had the opportunity to say anything at all.

“I’m not going to fuss about this, Jerry Don,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “You already know what I’ve done, but I’ll say it real plain so there’s no mistake. I shot that Nurse Linda, shot her dead. Otherwise, she’d have killed Jolene and me too. I shot the radiator out of that truck too, you know I did. But it was the fool behind that wheel that crashed it. If he killed himself because of it, well, I guess you can pin that on me too if you want to. I don’t really care. And if you want to lock an old woman up for doing what’s right, well, I guess you can do that too. I just don’t care.”

“Lieutenant Perez will be here any minute to take your official statement,” Jerry said. “It will go better if you do care. This isn’t something I can make go away for you, Lucille.”

“Mom,” I said, decided to try the “good cop” role on her. “Finch was the one driving that truck,” I said. “He only has minor injuries.”

“He was lucky he hit that light pole,” she said, jutting out her chin. “If he’d kept coming, trying to run you over, I’d have nailed him too, you know I would have.”

“Yes, I know, and I really appreciate you looking out for me, really I do. But when Perez gets here, maybe don’t go into all that. Just keep it simple and tell him what happened and explain why you did what you did. He knows you were protecting me—and yourself—you just have to say that for the official record. Understand?”

Before she could answer, the door swung open and Lieutenant Perez walked in.

I gave mother a pleading look and whispered, “Just the facts.”

Jerry stood and met him at the door. They whispered a few things back and forth, then Perez motioned me over. “I’ll take your mother’s statement first, then yours. You can wait in the hall or have a seat in the lobby.”

I have been down this road before, and I did not relish the thought of another all-night interrogation. My stomach rumbled in agreement. “Since we’re going to be here a while, how about I get us pizza delivered? I’ll pick it up at the crime scene tape.”

“You won’t be here long enough for that,” Perez said.

My heart sank. Where was I going to be? “We’re still going to be hungry, even at the police station.”

“No,” Perez said. “Phillip Finch gave a recorded confession in the parking lot. He outlined the drug scheme, Linda Waverman’s coercion to help him kill her husband and that she’d told him to kill you as well. There are a lot of loose ends to tie up, and the drug thing will be a separate investigation, but what happened here today is clear. The evidence supports self-defense. Waverman intended to kill you and also fired at you mother.”

So, did that mean we were off the hook? That we didn’t have to worry about proving self-defense or whatever else? “That’s it?”

“You’ll give a statement today, of course,” Perez said, “Other investigators will likely want to talk to you at some point, but the physical evidence tells most of the story for this incident.”

I felt a weight lift from my shoulders and my body standing up taller. “That is such a relief.”

“Do you people want to talk to me or not?” Lucille said, crossing her arms and huffing. “It’s been quite a day and I am just ready to be through with all this nonsense. If you have something to ask me, it’s high time we got to it.”

Perez sighed the sigh of man resigned to his fate.

I didn’t have a lot of sympathy for him since he was the one whose great plan it was to have Lucille “helping him on the case.” I wondered how much of that part would show up in the official report. None would be my guess. And then, another light bulb went off. Perez had good reasons for wrapping this up quickly and so did the police chief, captain and the political powers that were pulling the strings to squash the investigation. Yes, there was much motivation to make this look good for all of us. I couldn’t wait to hear version that showed up in the news. This time, The Jackson Gang might actually come out looking like the good guys—maybe.

One thing that would not play well in the news or otherwise was Waverman’s story. Hopefully, they’d keep some of the more sordid details quiet, but Linda’s death and the circumstances around it were going to be gossip fodder for a long time to come. Living with that was going to be hell. “Lieutenant,” I said, stopping him as he trudged toward Lucille. “Has anyone told Linda’s husband what happened?”

“No. We haven’t made contact with next of kin yet.”

Now, it was not my job to break the bad news to Waverman, but I sure felt compelled to talk to him about it. Nothing could prevent the heartbreaking stab of mutual betrayal—however deep that turned turn out to be—by the two people closest to him, but if Perez would let me, maybe I could soften the blow just a little. “He’s here. Came in as a patient this morning, so he’s got to know something’s going on.”

“How do you know that?” Perez asked. “How do you know him?”

“He’s the managing consultant on my toxic waste project. The stuff in my trunk came from the jobsite—Finch had hidden it there. Also, I saved Waverman’s life the first time his wife tried to kill him. And, few minutes ago, I helped him hide some pills in his closet so you’d have evidence that she still meant to. He didn’t know about her wanting to kill him though, and neither did I, then.”

Perez nodded. “Finch’s confession covered some of that, but we’ll still need to question him and inform him his wife is deceased.” He turned to Jerry. “I take it the jobsite’s in Bowman County.”

“Yes,” Jerry said. “I’ll provide support to help collect the evidence and whatever else you might need.”

“Good. I’ll get somebody on that right away.” Perez turned back toward me. “I’ll get someone in to talk to Waverman too. You can talk to him after that if you want to.”

I really didn’t. Telling him his wife had died in generic terms was one thing. Facing him after he realized she’d tried to kill me and that my mother had killed her to prevent it was something entirely different. “I’ll be in the lobby.”

Chapter 34

After all my sage advice to Lucille on what to say and not to say to the detective, my own narrative of the day’s events was more akin to a soap opera script than a police report. It also took longer than Perez had promised. He had sorely misjudged the level of twists, tangles and turns that had led to me be standing in the rehab center parking lot with a trunk full of drugs and a gun jammed into my back. Eventually though, Jerry was allowed to take me away and help me resolve an even bigger problem—my empty stomach.

I was only one drive-up window away from having a whole box of fried goodies, along with extra tubs of gravy to dip them in. Emmajean would be appalled. Oh, sure, I could have called ahead and had a healthy feast waiting for us. But I didn’t want to wait. I also wanted good old comfort food--now.

Jerry pulled up to the final window and pulled the big bag into the truck then handed it to me.

As I took the sack, a new wave of warm tingly feelings rippled through me. It could have been carnivorous anticipation—or maybe just the heat from the chicken baskets. Maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever the case, it felt really good. I smiled widely and brightly as I spread out the food.

I really wanted to just bury my face in the box and start chewing, but I didn’t. I grabbed a thick golden strip, dipped it in gravy then handed it to Jerry. I repeated the process and stuffed a creamy crunchy bite of heaven into my own mouth. After some enthusiastic chewing and a serenade of appreciative, but inappropriate, noises, I swallowed and said, “Have I ever mentioned how much I appreciate you?”

“Maybe,” Jerry said, nodding and chewing. “I think it was the last time I took you to get something to eat.”

“I do like to eat, yes I do,” I said, dipping up another piece. I popped it in my mouth then fixed a bite for Jerry and handed it to him. “Yes, indeed, this makes me a very happy camper.”

“We are both much happier when you’re well fed.” He smiled. “Learned that one long ago.”

I knew what he was insinuating, but I didn’t care. I just laughed. “Yep! “Happy wife, happy life!” Then I froze—everything froze, even my breathing. Oh, shit! What had I just said? I gulped and sputtered. “I didn’t mean to say that!”

Jerry gasped and started coughing, only he was actually choking on chicken. Bursting out laughing in mid-swallow will do that to you.

I did not find it the situation the least bit funny. In fact, I was mortified. I grabbed my big Styrofoam cup of ice tea from the cup holder and sipped. “It’s not that funny.”

“It really is,” he said, still gasping.

How that idiotic idiom could have come out of my mouth is beyond me. Its distasteful implications made me cringe every time I heard it, and now my own traitorous mouth had just said it. To keep from saying anything else stupid, I grabbed a slice of toast, wrapped it around some battered chicken, layered on a haystack of salty fries, dipped it all in gravy and stuffed it into my mouth.

Jerry took a drink and settled his coughing, then said, “It’s okay to want to be married, Jo. In fact, a lot of people actually like it.”

And a lot of people get hurt—like today. Like I had. But Jerry had been hurt too and he was willing to take a chance on me. Why was I still holding back? I knew I wanted to share my life with him. An image of the house on the hill flashed in my mind. I wanted that too. I wanted a real home again. I wanted to belong. And the irony was that it was all being handed to me, some of it quite literally on a silver platter. But, in yet another twisted karmic joke, it was being handed to me in Kickapoo, Texas—the very last place on earth I wanted to be. And the very last thing I was willing to do was admit liking it.

He reached over and cupped his hand gently around the back of my neck. “It doesn’t mean we have to stay here forever,” he said, reading my mind. “Just think of it as home base for a while.”

I liked that idea, but between his kids and his job it was more like a ball and chain than a base.

“The kids are getting older and I’ve been thinking of making a career change for a while now.”

“What? You love your job.”

“Parts of it. But you know the main reason I took it was because it was the best choice for my family at the time.” He moved his fingers lightly along the back of my neck, which was totally distracting. “I’ve been approached by a private sector company to do consulting work for them. I wouldn’t have to manage people anymore, which is a plus for me. It would be more money and more flexibility. I think I’d really like it.”

“It sounds great,” I said sincerely. And I would be over-the-top thrilled for him not to be in the line of fire every day. I’d be thrilled to get myself off the front line as well, but that was a separate issue. Still, there was something bothering me. “I guess I just wonder if you’d be doing this if I hadn’t shown back up in your life. I mean, you were pretty happy with your career before you had to start dealing with my mother’s escapades.”

He chuckled. “The things your mother gets herself—and sometimes you—into do not make my life easier. But, no, this is about me. It’s one of two decisions in my life that I’ve made solely because it was what I wanted.”

I liked that answer. “What was the other one?”

“You.” He moved his fingers lightly along the back of my neck. “If you want to get married, we will. If you don’t, we won’t. If there’s something in between that works, that’s good too. I just know I want to share my life with you.”

“I want that too,” I said. Each tiny stroke of his fingertips on my neck sent electric sparks shooting across my skin. I couldn’t think and I sure couldn’t speak, and yet, I felt the words coming anyway. “I really want to be married to you.”

I wasn’t shocked by my confession and I certainly didn’t take it back. I’d wanted to be married to Jerry since I was sixteen years old. And now, I was really ready to do it. There were a lot of real-world complications to be dealt with—lots of them. But right now, all I wanted to do was enjoy the moment. I reached up and put my hand on his arm. “I’m really glad we found each other again.”

“Me too.”

We were only a few miles from the turnoff to go to the house and I didn’t want to go home. I did, just not without Jerry, not now. “I know you were going to drop me off at the house, but I’d really rather just go with you to the site.”

“Jolene…”

“No, I don’t care what’s going on out there. It’s just that, well…” I shrugged, not sure what I was feeling. “I know it may sound weird, but I’d really like for us to go home together tonight.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know. I want that too. But more than that, I want you to be okay in a bigger way. And taking you back into things tonight isn’t going to help with that.”

“I get that part.”

“Besides,” he said, smiling. “I was kind of hoping you’d go fill up that big tub and maybe make room for me when I get there.”

“Oh, now that does sound good.” But how things sound and how they actually wind up don’t always match. “You really think it won’t take long? That you’ll be back in time to share it with me?”

“Bet on it,” he said, turning the truck onto Turkey Ranch Road.

When we pulled up to the house, there were two cars in the driveway, all the lights were on and I could see people sitting in the living room. After my initial shock of people being here, I remembered my house guests. “Looks like Clove brought Melody’s car around for her.’

Jerry put the truck in park and leaned toward me for a quick kiss. “Go get in the tub and relax. If I’m going to be longer than a half hour or so, I’ll call you and let you know.”

I stared at him for a few seconds, but I didn’t know what to say. I felt a peace I hadn’t in years—maybe ever. Not about what was going on—there was nothing peaceful about that—but about him. About us. It felt good. “Thank you.”

He kissed me again, the hurried off. And not because he wanted to get away or get somewhere else, but so he could come back sooner. I’d really wanted him to walk in with me, but there would be a time for that.

As I opened the door and stepped inside, Melody hopped up from the sofa and rushed toward me. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” she squealed, grabbing me and hugging me. “Travis called and told me everything. I just can’t believe it! And Miss Lucille!” She shook her head, gave me another hug then stepped away. “I’m just glad it’s all over and that you’re both okay.”

“Me too.” I looked around to see if I’d missed Doris, but I hadn’t. I hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. “How is your mom?”

“She’s in her room, engrossed in a television program and talking on the phone, simultaneously. She’s doing great. Flushing the medications out of her system and adding back good stuff has really brought her back to herself.”

“I’m really glad she’s okay.”

“There aren’t words to express how grateful I am—for everything,” Melody said. “Mom didn’t really know who she was when she got here. Now she can’t wait to get home.” Melody smiled. “It’s also time you had some privacy so you can settle in and make this place truly yours—make it your home.”

The light over the dining room table flickered.

Melody laughed. “It only does that when you’re around. But don’t worry, it should be clearing up soon.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me why you think so.”

“Well, you know I do communications, and Bob and Glenda have been quite eager to talk to me since I’ve been here. They had so much they wanted to share that I recorded several sessions and Clove put them on a flash drive for you. It’s over on table.” She nodded to the dining room. I expected the light to blink or something, but it didn’t. “There are some specific details regarding properties and business situations that may have some urgency—the envelope again—but you’ll know when it’s time to listen.”

“Thank you,” I said, not really knowing what else to say. “I’ll see you in the morning before you go, and I might have questions then, but tonight all I can think about is a long hot bath calling to me. And I think I’ll have a cup of tea too.”

Before I made it to the kitchen, however, I saw a flash of lights in the drive. Was Jerry really back already? He was! I hurried to the door and opened it for him to come in.

He didn’t. “Haven’t made it to the tub yet, I see.”

“No, I stopped to chat with Melody, but I’m headed there now.”

“Come outside with me for a minute. I want to talk to you.”

I closed the door behind me and he grabbed my hand.

He led me around the pool and away from the house out to the edge of the plateau. A sliver of moon glowed in the sky in front of us.

“Looks like a new moon tonight,” Jerry said, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around me.

I snuggled back against him, allowing myself to enjoy the moment and the feelings. “It’s beautiful. You can see a lot of stars tonight too.”

“Not quite like the crisp view from a mountaintop, but still nice.”

“Very nice,” I said, wrapping my arms back around his. “We should put a swing out here so we can just sit and watch the stars whenever we want.”

“Good idea,” he said, hugging me closer. “You know, I thought about what you said earlier, about wanting us to go home together tonight. I want that too.”

Our lives would probably never be simple or uncomplicated, but it was okay. A lot of things were okay. “I know I’ve fought against being here—and there will be lots of vacations. But the one thing I know for sure is that I’d rather live in Kickapoo, Texas with you than live in paradise without you.”

He turned me around in his arms, then reached up and gently touched my face. “That’s very good to know,” he said softly. , staring at me in the moonlight. “Very good.” Then, he stepped back. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now, but for a thousand different reasons it just wasn’t the right time. Now may not be either, but it’s the time we have.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know we’ve talked about a lot of different options, but I want to officially give you this one.” He got down on one knee and held out his hand with an open ring box. “Jolene Jackson, will you marry me?

I felt the tears pouring down my cheeks and I was about one ragged breath away from breaking into a full blown sob. I held my hand over my mouth and nodded.

He shook his head. “I want to hear it.”

“Yes,” I said, wiping at the tears. “I will marry you. Right now if you want to.”

He stood and slipped the ring on my finger and then hugged me to him. “I’ve waited a lifetime for this, Jolene.”

“Me too,” I squeaked. “Let’s get married right now. You know people. Go wake somebody up and let’s get this done!”

He laughed and held me tighter. “I was thinking a Christmas wedding might be nice.”

Oh, it would! A Christmas wedding at the beach would be spectacular. However, I had a feeling he was envisioning mesquites and instead of palm trees. I could still hold out for a long escape to white sand and blue water after the wedding.

“I thought maybe we could have it here at the house,” he said, confirming my suspicions.

“Home,” I said, feeling it.

“Our home.”

I really liked the sound of that, and I loved it even more that Jerry had said it. His words were like a glowing warmth that both surrounded and permeated my whole being. Getting married still scared me, but this man made me feel safe. He was solid. I could trust him no matter what and that gave me a security and peace I’d never had before. And now, we had had a home together—our home. That it was in Kickapoo, Texas was still a little unsettling, but I’d eventually get used to it. Because, as much as I’d fought against wanting to make the move—seriously, Colorado to Kickapoo is killer—I was really happy about how things had turned out in so many ways—Jerry, the property…yes, the money. Still, there was a history here—a history that repeated itself, over and over and over. “Do you really want to risk getting married here?