One Last Lie (28 page)

He squeezed her hand and rubbed it against his cheek.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, G, but I’m asking you to do this for me. Believe it or not, I’m thinking about the future and honestly, this money is to help assuage my guilt. Right now I feel nothing but contempt and hatred toward Angela. But there might come a time, way down the road, when I feel bad for a little boy who has a fuck up for a mother and a father who never wanted to see him. Knowing I’m helping this kid live more comfortably will ease my conscience.”

G shook her head and was about to speak when Jonathan tightened his grip around her hand.

“G, if you can’t do this because you’re too close a friend, I completely understand. But please let me know now so I can have someone else take care of it.”

G closed her eyes and pushed her forehead down onto his hand. He could feel her struggle, but would not buckle under.

The knock on the door made them both jump.

“Come in,” Jonathan slowly stood as he let go of G’s hand.

Wayne opened the door, Marina by his side, the black smudges of mascara encircling her eyes matching her Christian Dior day dress. She flew across the room and wrapped her arms around Jonathan’s neck. With her face against his chest, she could barely catch her breath as sobs broke her words.

“I am… so… sorry… Jonathan… I…” She tried to complete the sentence, but her weeping wouldn’t allow it.

Jonathan returned the hug and gently patted Marina’s back. He looked at G, anticipating her decision. He hoped she’d be able to abide by his wishes because there was no one he trusted more.

“Can you give me until tomorrow?” She stood by the door, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand.

Jonathan nodded and offered her a faint smile.

Outside the door, a group of people had gathered. Jonathan closed his eyes and collected all the strength he could find.

The dreaded procession had begun.

21

The baby gurgled and smiled, squirming on its back atop the changing table. June smiled back as she wrapped the diaper around his legs and blew bursts of air on the bottom of his flailing feet.

“I can’t believe how quiet he is. I’ve been here two days and haven’t heard him make more than a squeak.”

“He doesn’t take after his mother, that’s for sure!” Angela shouted from the bedroom.

June finished taping the diaper closed and lifted the baby up to her chest. Gently bobbing him up and down, she looked around the living room at the boxes and plastic-wrapped furniture, packed and ready for the moving company. It seemed only yesterday she was helping Angela move in as she started a life in Connecticut. But it wasn’t yesterday; it was almost a year ago to the day and so much had happened since then; too much to think about without bringing tears to her eyes.

The call had come during her shift on the medical unit, just past 6:00 PM. She’d already finished taking vitals and was updating charts when the phone vibrated against her hip. She hesitated when the telephone number on the display read PRIVATE, but something in her gut told her to flip open the phone.

“Is this June Stokes?” The voice was gruff, as if the man on the other end of the phone was getting over a bout with laryngitis.

“Yes.” She fingered the stethoscope hanging from her neck.

“Do you know an Angela Shelton?”

“Yes,” she said again, shuffling toward the supply closet where she could be alone. “Who is this?”

“This is Officer Juarez,” he said, his tone a bit friendlier and exhibiting a subtle Spanish accent when saying his name. “Your friend Angela asked me to call and tell you to come as soon as you can.”

June stuck her index finger into her other ear to shut out the hospital noise. “Oh my God, what happened? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay physically. Though at the moment she’s very emotional. That’s why she asked me to call. I can’t get into the details, Ms. Stokes, but I do advise you to get here as soon as possible. We wanted to bring her to the hospital for routine tests, but she won’t leave the house until you get here.”

June leaned against the supply closet door and held back what felt like a freight train of tears. “Is the baby okay?”

“Yes. As I said, she’s fine physically. She just needs a friend with her. I know you’re in New York, could you be here by nine o’clock?”

June glanced at her watch and took a deep breath. She’d have to find someone to finish her shift, go home, pack a bag, get to Grand Central, and hope for an express train to the Fairfield station.

“I’ll try my best, Officer.” She could hear Angela trying to speak through sobs. “Have you called her friends Philip and Jonathan? They live closer and can get there a lot sooner than I can.”

June heard the static of a hand covering the cell phone’s microphone. After about ten seconds, she heard breathing. “That’s not possible, Ms. Stokes.” An uncomfortable silence fell between them. “That’s why it’s best you get here as soon as you can.”

Before June had the chance to ask more questions, he’d hung up. She flipped the phone closed and shut her eyes. What the hell happened? Police? Hospital? And why wouldn’t they call Philip and Jonathan?

Officer Juarez’s response to contacting Philip and Jonathan played in her head: “That’s not possible Ms. Stokes.” She felt her insides tighten.

Should she call Philip herself? She flipped open her phone and scrolled down to his number. But just as something told her to answer the phone minutes before, something insisted she flip it closed and focus on getting to Angela’s house. She slid the phone into the top pocket of her scrubs and headed toward Maria’s office — the head nurse who would find her replacement for tonight and however long it took to get Angela through the mess she’d gotten herself into.

When the cab pulled up to the house, two policemen stood out front, silhouetted by the porch light. June paid the driver and bolted toward the porch steps.

“Ms. Stokes?” one of the officers walked down the steps to meet her. The sound of his voice told her this was Office Juarez, and she was surprised at how wrongly she’d imagined him.

The shorter of the two officers, he had a slim frame and his uniform could’ve used tailoring. From what she could tell in the dim light, he had a kind face, big eyes, and the shadow of a goatee that helped him appear older than the twenty five years he looked. He held out his hand and smiled.

She nodded, shook his hand, and smiled back shyly.

“She’s doing better now,” he said. “The paramedic who was here earlier gave her something to calm her down, so she slept a little. But she’s been waiting for you.”

June pulled the tote strap further up her shoulder and peered at the doorway. Yellow light from inside the house seeped onto the porch floor, encircling Angela’s welcome mat. June felt a slight tremble deep inside her abdomen. She wanted to get to Angela as soon as possible, but found herself hesitating to climb the steps. It didn’t occur to her until that moment: whatever happened must have been tragic. It showed on the face of Officer Juarez and hung in the air outside the house. She couldn’t bring herself to move.

“Can I help you up the steps?” Juarez gently took her elbow.

“I’m sorry,” June said, her legs moving on their own, her feet somehow finding their way to the steps. “Can you tell me anything, Officer, just so I’m prepared?”

Juarez helped her up the steps and stopped when they reached the front door.

“I’m sorry, but I need to leave right now. There’s a situation a few miles away I need to get to.” He used his thumb to point to the officer standing beside him. “This is Officer Reilly. He’ll be watching things tonight. We understand Ms. Shelton’s not a flight risk, but it’s protocol to have an officer keep an eye on things after an incident like the one today. Plus we’ll need her to come to the station for questioning tomorrow. Officer Reilly will bring the both of you.”

“Questioning?” June’s confusion peaked to the point of anger. “I don’t understand. You’re acting as if I know what went on here. Please tell me something!”

Juarez reached into his shirt pocket and handed her a small card. “I’m sorry, Ms. Stokes. I’m not at liberty to offer details. Your friend will explain everything to you, I’m sure. This card has my cell number on it. Please call if you need to.” He gazed into her eyes and tightened his lips. “Officer Reilly will be on the porch or in his patrol car if you need him for anything. Goodnight, Ms. Stokes.”

She almost begged him to stay; to come inside and help her deal with what was waiting. Instead she swallowed hard, forced a smile and watched him walk to his car.

“June, is that you? June?”

June recognized Angela’s voice and shook her head. She had no idea what she was in for, what lay on the other side of the door. She tried to ignore the pounding in her chest while her legs, as if working separately from her brain, led her through the doorway and into the house.

*

The first thing she noticed was the smell of industrial cleaner, similar to the disinfectant used in hospital rooms. Strangely, everything seemed in order, clean and in its place. Very atypical of Angela’s house.

She scanned the room for clues. At first glance she saw nothing, other than Angela spread out on the sofa, her eyes closed with a pillow propped up behind her head and a damp dishtowel lying across her forehead. Her arm was extended, her hand gesturing as though searching for something in the dark.

“June?” Angela whispered, her eyes fluttering open. “Is that you?”

June walked to the sofa and let the carryall slide down her arm and onto the floor. She sat on the coffee table and took Angela’s outstretched hand.

“Yes, it’s me, Angela. I’m here.”

Angela tightened her grip around June’s hand.

“Thank God,” she said. “Are the police still here?” Her voice seemed to be getting stronger.

“ One officer’s outside, keeping guard or something. Everyone else is gone. Now please, can you tell me what happened?”

June barely finished getting the words out before Angela grabbed the towel from her forehead and threw it onto the floor. Her eyes were wide open and raking the room. She clutched the back of the sofa and tried pulling herself up. June watched, paralyzed, not only by the sudden change in Angela’s behavior, but also by her size. They hadn’t seen each other for six weeks, and she figured the huffing and puffing she heard from Angela during their phone conversations was due to the baby getting larger. She never imagined Angela could gain so much weight. Her swollen face looked painful; her fingers and toes, ready to explode. And her legs, like fleshy tree trunks, were mapped with the largest varicose veins June had ever seen.

“Are you going to help me or what?” Angela bit her bottom lip as she continued her attempt to lift herself up. June broke from her spell.

“Yes. Yes. What do you need me to do?”

Angela grabbed June’s knee for more leverage, then pulled and twisted her body until her legs slid down the front of the sofa. When her feet hit the floor, she let out a sigh as though she’d just finished the Boston Marathon.

“What a fucking day,” she panted. “I want to forget it ever happened.”

“Jesus Angie, what
did
happen? Why do the police want you for questioning?” Angela looked toward the kitchen and let her gaze fall to the floor. “What Angie? What happened?”

“Philip’s dead.”

June gasped, the words hitting her like a shovel to the stomach.

“Tommy killed him,” Angela continued, a tear now falling down her cheek.

Unable to speak, June covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyelids burned, the tears aching to break through. But she forced them back. She couldn’t be weak, she was here to take care of Angela. Thank God she’d taken a Klonopin in the cab.

“How did it happen, Angie?” Her voice trembled. This didn’t make any sense.

“When I saw Philip at the door, I told Tommy to stay in the bedroom. He’d been drinking all morning and increased his Zoloft dosage. I begged him over and over to find another med. The Zoloft always made him angry and aggressive. He promised he would, but never did.” She shook her head harder. “Fucking asshole.”

Still sitting on the coffee table beside Angela, June clasped her hands and rested her chin on them. “What happened, Angela? What happened to Philip?”

Angela wiped the tear stain from her cheek.

“Tommy promised to stay in the bedroom. He swore to me!” She took a deep breath and looked June in the eye. “But then he came out. Philip tried to leave, but Tommy wouldn’t let him. I yelled at him to stop, to let Philip go, but it was like he couldn’t hear me, like he couldn’t hear
anyone
.” She squirmed into the sofa cushion, then leaned forward and placed her hand on June’s leg. “I could see the hatred in his face, June,” Angela whispered as though trying to keep a secret. “Even as I yelled and begged him to stop, I knew deep down he was going to do what he did. I could see it in his eyes.”

June tried to prepare herself, knowing the worst of the story was about to come. Even more alarming was how calm Angela appeared. Officer Juarez made it sound like she was on the brink of a breakdown and now here she was, lucid, composed, and too tranquil as far as June was concerned. Had she put on an act for the police? Or maybe she was hiding her true feelings; possibly in denial. June hoped that was the case, because if it wasn’t that meant her fear had come true: Angela was a completely heartless human being. She didn’t say a word and Angela continued.

“They were in the kitchen. I couldn’t get up fast enough to see how it started, but they were pushing each other, struggling. I heard things falling and dishes breaking. I was yelling for them to stop. By the time I got to the kitchen, the sounds had stopped and Philip was on his knees. Tommy stood with his bloody hands in the air, looking at them like they weren’t even part of his body.” Angela placed her hands over her face and shook her head. A slight whimper escaped her mouth. “I still can’t believe it, June. It’s like a dream, like I’m still not sure it actually happened.”