The Evil Returned

by Richard Raven

  With all of it.

  “I bet there’s one detective who’s really unhappy with that decision,” Jeff said.

  “She’s definitely got it in for you,” Daren agreed. “But then, Yolanda Jarvis has been a champion of women’s rights and causes her entire career.”

  “Well, for once,” Jasmine said, “the woman needs to lay off. It’s one thing to be a spokesperson for women, but it’s another to act like a fool and ignore what a good man did to bring justice to so many victims and to provide at least some of their families with answers and some closure.” She paused, then added, “Just my opinion, anyway.”

  Jeff grinned. “You know, Jaz, you can be a very outspoken lady, yourself.”

  “Can she ever,” Daren agreed, taking his wife’s arm and rolling his eyes. “Come on, babe, let’s go and give Jeff a little time and space to say his goodbyes.”

  “Don’t you forget what I said,” she told Jeff, and gave him another hug.

  Jeff thanked them again for coming, then watched them walk toward their car. Then his gaze went to the last mourner who remained.

  The woman had remained off to herself throughout the service, never taking her lost and grieved eyes off the coffin. Now she stood at the foot of the coffin, one hand on the gleaming metal, her head down. Jeff could tell she was crying.

  For a second Jeff thought of leaving her alone with her grief; it was in memory of and for the sake of the woman they had both lost that he decided to speak to her.

  She abruptly looked up when he approached her and took several quick steps away from him. Jeff stopped, raising his good hand in a placating gesture. After that she stood her ground, staring at him levelly, her eyes red from crying. The hem of her dark blue sleeveless dress flapped around her knees in the light breeze, strands of her dark shoulder-length hair blowing in her pale face.

  “Susan, I know what she meant to you,” Jeff said. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

  Susan Romine swallowed hard, her thin arms hugging herself as if she were cold, her eyes back on the coffin. “I loved her,” she said under her breath. “I loved her more than you or anyone else will ever know.”

  “Like I said, I’m sorry for your loss.” Jeff was about to turn away from her when she spoke, her voice now stronger and dripping with venom.

  “So I guess you’re some kind of hero now?”

  “Susan, I didn’t do it to be a hero. I did it to stop the man who killed my wife and had murdered so many others. I did what I thought was the right thing—if that makes me some kind of hero, so be it. But I don’t see it that way.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “I’m the one who talked to that woman detective,” Susan told him bluntly.

  “Yeah, I figured that out,” Jeff lied. “I bear you no ill will, for what it’s worth.”

  Susan looked up from the coffin, her eyes hard and cold. “I guess I bear enough of it for both of us. From what I overheard from that black man, you’re not even going to jail for anything—and you’re as guilty of killing her as your lousy brother. If she had only stayed away from you, as I begged her to do…she’d be alive today. The only thing I hate more than losing her is that I won’t get the pleasure of seeing you in prison, strapped to a gurney and with a needle in both arms.” She stepped quickly around the end of the coffin, stopped in front of Jeff, and spat in his face. “May you rot in hell,” she said with perfect aplomb and walked away, her arms again hugging herself.

  Well, I guess I asked for that. What in the world did Angela ever see in her? Jeff took a handkerchief from a back pocket and was wiping the spittle from his face when—

  “I must admit that I’ve been wondering that same thing, myself. Jeff, I’m sorry. She had no call to do that or to blame you for anything.”

  Jeff looked around calmly at the image of Angela. The likeness of her still wore the black dress and was barefoot. “She’s not the only one,” he said with a quiet sigh. “I imagine there’s a lot of people who believe what she said and would like to do a lot more than she did. Like I told her, so be it. So, where’d you come from?”

  “I’ve been here for a while now, watching you stare at the headstone.”

  “Then you know what I was thinking about.”

  “You were remembering the day Aunt Glory called us with the news.”

  “And what news,” Jeff said, shaking his head wonderingly at the memory. The old lady had spent almost every day of her life after Angela had moved out on her own saving a dollar wherever she could so she could leave something behind for her niece. She managed to save a tidy sum in the eight years before he and Angela decided to get married. Instead of keeping it until the time of her death, she had called to tell them she was sending it to them as a wedding present, but on one specific condition.

  “You’re married now, dear,” the old lady had told Angela on the phone, “and the vows are forever. So you not only have to plan for your lives together, but also for your eternal rest. Be sure to get enough plots for your children, too.”

  “You didn’t know whether to be happy or horrified when that call ended,” Jeff said.

  “Not at first, but I saw the wisdom in her gift.”

  “I saw it, too…only not until after she died. The best part was that we not only honored her wishes, there was quite a bit left over. That sure came in handy.”

  “That was Aunt Glory, a very practical woman to the end of her days.”

  “Yeah, she was,” Jeff sighed, the irony affecting.

  After that he let go of the memories. He turned his back to the headstone and gazed at Angela’s image. “I haven’t seen you or heard your voice a single time since that night at the barn,” he said, stuffing his handkerchief back in his pocket. “I figured you’d long since moved on with the others.”

  “I’ll be moving on soon enough, and so will Marie. She wanted to stick around and make sure that they found everyone out there, and they did.”

  “They’ve only identified ten of the women so far, including you, and Duane Hicks from Saint Louis. The last woman they identified was Sarah Hardin from Pine Bluff. I understand that they believe she’d been out there for almost six years.”

  “Closer to seven. But they’ll identify them all; that’s part of why Marie’s still here. She’s not going anywhere until all of them have a name again. It really pleased her when they tore that barn down, and now…my God, you wouldn’t believe all the flowers and everything that has started showing up out there. People are making it a shrine to all of us. I swear, though, there’s almost as many flowers here as out there. I love those yellow spider mums on the coffin. Jeff, you did so good. Everything is so beautiful.”

  He shrugged. “I did the best I could for you.”

  “You always did your best for me, and that’s why I’m still here for a little while. I wanted to be sure you were okay and to take care of a couple of things.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here. As I remember it, you asked me a question that night and I never answered it.”

  “That’s right…you didn’t.”

  “When that detective first threw it all in my face, I thought I’d spend a long time pissed off about it and nursing my bruised pride. But then I had to ask myself just who the hell did I think I was trying to kid. Angie, I loved you and I believe what you told me, so the answer is yes, I forgive you. Hell, if I’d known it at the time, I would’ve forgiven you. But I suspect you already know that. I mean, that you know it now.”

  “I do, but it was important for you to say it, and not just to me. Thank you, baby.”

  “So, what are these couple of things you wanted to take care of?”

  “Let’s say that one of them just got taken care of.”

  Jeff couldn’t help but laugh. “And the other thing?”

  “To try and figure something out, if I can. It seems to me that you’re forgetting about someone. That’s not like you at all and I don’t understand it.”

  Jeff looked a
way from the image of his wife. He said nothing, the mirth gone and his face suddenly pained.

  “Jeff, what is it you’ve got that’s buried so deep that I can’t even get a feel for it? Is it that you blame her for something? If that’s it, then surely if you can forgive me, you can forgive her. And what’s to forgive? What did she do that’s so wrong?”

  “She didn’t do a thing wrong,” Jeff whispered. “And I don’t blame her for anything.”

  Silence, then, “I should’ve known that was it.”

  “Angie, when I saw her in that trunk, I saw what happened to you. It just…” He went silent and stood there shaking his head.

  “Jeff, you’ve grieved for me long enough. You’ve blamed yourself for too many things that weren’t your fault long enough. You’ve got to give yourself a chance to start healing. She also needs that chance and, maybe more importantly, she needs you. She really has no one else. Jeff, go to her, talk to her…you might be surprised.”

  Jeff thought about it for a long time. At one point he fished out of his pocket what Daren had given him and stared at it, considering, wondering.

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” the image of his wife told him, and she sounded both pleased and satisfied. “I think she will, too.”

  Jeff nodded, returning what Daren had given him to his pocket. “I need to get going anyway, I guess. I’m keeping the guys over there from finishing their work here. I’ll go by and see her. First, though, I need to stop and visit with my folks a while.” He had brought them the flowers he had promised the last time he was here.

  When he looked up, expecting to see the image of his wife, she wasn’t there. For a moment he stared at the spot where she had stood, then looked at her coffin. He reached out with his good hand, his fingers lightly touching the gleaming white lid near the huge spray of flowers on top of it.

  “Rest well, sweetheart. I’m going to miss you…and thank you.” Then he walked away, heading for his truck.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Janice was sitting up in bed, staring out the window of her second-floor hospital room, her bruised but healing face forlorn and lost in thought.

  She had been staring out the window off and on for hours. She wore only a blue hospital gown, the sheet pulled to her waist. Tied loosely in a pony-tail, her blonde hair lay draped over one shoulder. A bran muffin and a small carton of orange juice sat on the rolling tray in front of her, untouched and unwanted. A little while before, as she was now detached from all but her IV line and able to move about more freely, one of her nurses had asked if she wanted to try and walk down the corridor and step out on the balcony for a bit of sunshine. It wasn’t a long walk, but if she felt she couldn’t make it, the nurse had offered to get her a wheelchair.

  Janice had only shook her head, her head barely moving at all. She didn’t want a wheelchair or the sun. She barely wanted to move, much less walk. It was all she could manage to get out of bed and make it to the bathroom. Once in there…it still hurt to go. Not as bad as it had been, but it still hurt. It hurt to breathe—a deep breath enough to make her want to scream. It seemed there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t hurt to some degree. The doctor had been cutting back on her pain meds for the past two days, and that wasn’t helping. Even when she got the meds, it did nothing to ease the worst pain she felt. There was only one thing that was going to ease that pain. And it was becoming obvious that she wasn’t going to get it.

  With a long, heavy sigh she looked away from the window, lay her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes. She felt a little sleepy, but without her meds she didn’t want to do that, either. It would be hours yet before she could get her next fix of sweet oblivion. That was the only way she could…

  Janice heard the door open, but didn’t bother to open her eyes. It was only one of the nurses or orderlies; she didn’t want to see or talk to any of them.

  “Are you awake?” a soft, familiar and hesitant voice asked.

  Her eyes snapped open and she raised her head.

  Jeff stood in the doorway, a green vase of red roses in his right hand. His face bore a pensive, even apprehensive look. What she noticed the most about him was the cast on his left arm. He had been in the same hospital as she and she had heard some of the nurses whispering about him. What he had done; his arm and his surgery. The sight of the cast almost caused her to break down, but she held it in check.

  Jeff took a hesitant step into the room. “You want some company?”

  “I’d love some company,” she murmured. “Are those for me?”

  Jeff came to her bedside, holding the vase out to her. “I wanted something more than just three rosebuds and a little green stuff, but it was all they had downstairs.”

  “They’re beautiful.” Holding the vase in both hands, Janice lowered her face to the roses. When she inhaled, she felt a sharp and stabbing pain, and in more than one place, but managed not to let it show. She placed the vase next to the orange juice. “So how’s your arm?”

  “Not bad. I’m supposed to get my hard cast in about a week.”

  “No more surgeries?”

  Jeff shook his head. “The doc was worried at first that the two pins he put in would be enough, but after my last X-ray, he seemed satisfied. But, Janice, never mind me. Tell me, how are you doing?”

  “According to the doctors and everyone who’s been taking care of me, I’m doing a lot better than any of them expected. None of them can stop looking at me like I’m some kind of miracle. Kind of like the way you’re staring at me now.”

  Jeff quickly glanced away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Janice. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t,” she told him quietly. “Considering what a frightening sight I am right now, I guess I should take it as a compliment.”

  Jeff’s eyes went back to her. “You’re not a frightening sight, believe me. Right now, Janice, I’d have to say you look fantastic.”

  “Liar,” she whispered, though not harshly and she could tell that he meant it. “Just the same, I guess I’m lucky to be alive and able to hear compliments. I understand I have you to thank for that.” It suddenly seemed to Janice that Jeff had something he wanted to tell her but wasn’t sure how to do it. The moment passed when he cleared his throat.

  “I did what I could, Janice. I only wish it could’ve been more. A whole lot more. I’ve really been worried about you.”

  “Then why has it taken nine days for you to come and see me?” Her eyes grew wet as she spoke and there was a tremble in her voice.

  Jeff glanced away again. “I wanted to come the night they brought you in, but I was in an ambulance, myself,” he said, his voice small. “I came in a couple of times after that, but it was late both times and they had you drugged unconscious.”

  Janice placed a hand to his cast. “I know you’ve had this to deal with, and the cops, and I know Angela’s funeral was today. You’ve also had…him to deal with, but still you could’ve taken a minute to come in when I wasn’t unconscious and tell me hello. At least show me that I wasn’t all wrong about you, too.”

  “You’re right,” he said, his voice heavy with regret, “I could have…and I damn well should have, I know that now.”

  Then he reached for her hand, raised it to his lips, and gently kissed the back of it. No man had ever kissed her hand; it took Janice completely by surprise. When next he spoke, he looked her straight in the eye, her hand still held tenderly in his.

  “Janice…I’ve been ashamed to face you. Those times I came in here and saw you…all I could do was tell myself that you wouldn’t be here, that he wouldn’t have hurt you the way he did, had it not been for me.”

  “You mean you don’t hate me?” Her moist eyes were now filled with surprise.

  Jeff looked horrified. “Good Lord, no, Janice. You never told me who you were seeing and I never asked. It didn’t see it as any of my business. You didn’t know—there was no way you could know who he really was. All I ever t
old you was that his first name was Damon—and you would’ve never known that or anything about him if you weren’t in my office the day I got the call that he was getting out of prison. Having a brother like that isn’t something you admit to unless you have to.”

  Janice had closed her eyes as tears rolled down her bruised cheeks. She felt Jeff squeeze her hand; she squeezed back.

  “Janice,” he went on, “it’s took me a little while to realize that I was no more to blame for what happened than you were. You, me and Angela, we all got caught in the path of the same storm. Well, it killed Angie…I don’t know if I’ll ever get over that, but the point is that I’m not the only one who’s going to have scars. As I see it, me and you have only two people that really know and understand what we’ve been through and can help us find our way past it, and that’s me and you.”

  Janice sniffed noisily and her face suddenly twisted into a grimace. She jerked her hand from Jeff’s and pressed it to her right cheek.

  “Ow, damn it,” she moaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Jeff asked, alarmed.

  “Broken cheekbone. It makes it hard to cry or even smile.”

  Jeff reached for several tissues from the package in the bed next to her. Once she had dried her cheeks and eyes, she quickly let Jeff take her hand again.

  “Have you heard anything yet about when you might go home?” he asked.

  “The doctor said it could be as early as Monday. I really don’t feel like I’m getting better all that fast, but everyone else around here sure seems to think so.” She noticed again that Jeff suddenly looked as if he had something he wanted to tell her but still couldn’t find the right words. She gave him a second, hoping he would tell her what was on his mind. Instead…

  “Are you going to be able to stay at your place?”

  Janice made a face and regretted it with a wince. “That’s one of my problems, Jeff. When they kick me out of here, I don’t have the slightest idea where I’m going. I can hardly sleep as it is…I keep dreaming about him. There’s no way I can live in that house again. I’ll be able to set foot inside that place again.”