Gregorio turned to the jury. “Are we really expected to believe that a man with a history of assault as long as my arm couldn’t have had anything to do with the violent crime against the woman he’d been having an extramarital affair with? A woman who was recently engaged to be married and very likely broke off her affairs with many men, including Mr. Delgado?”
Delgado’s jaw flexed. “I told you, I never hit Savannah.”
Gregorio was silent for several seconds. “As a matter of fact, you did. According to her brother, Liam, who will be giving his testimony shortly, Savannah confided in him that you beat her on several occasions, and in fact, that is the reason for your on-again off-again relationship with her.” He let that sink in. “We have diary entries as well, Mr. Delgado - entries that demonstrate the very heinous nature of your assaults against Ms. Sturgess.” He paused. “Not to mention the dates of the attacks, which have been compared to the dates of several documented emergency room visits which coincide directly with those attacks.” Another pause. “Do you want to tell the court again that you were never physically abusive toward the victim? Remember, you’re under oath, Mr. Delgado.”
The blood drained from Delgado’s face.
Jacqueline Winters’ eyes flashed. This was clearly an unexpected development.
Delgado shot to his feet. “He’s lying!”
Gregorio shrugged. “That’s for the jury to decide, Mr. Delgado.”
“Fuck you!” Delgado lunged at Gregorio. “Fuck you, motherfucker!”
Several bailiffs rushed to contain him.
Judge Fitch rapped his gavel.
Jacqueline Winters hung her head.
At home that night, Jason, Brent, and Amber sat in front of the television, riveted, none of them speaking.
“In an explosive murder trial in Shadow Springs, California,” said a red-haired anchorwoman, “Travis Delgado was found guilty today of the murder of Savannah Sturgess, daughter of T and C Enterprises CEO, Scott Sturgess, and Texas-born business consultant, Evelynn Sturgess …”
“I knew he did it,” said Brent.
Jason nodded. “I don’t think there was ever really any doubt.”
“At least it’s finally over.” Brent stood and stretched.
“I’m glad the bad man went to jail instead of you, Daddy,” said Amber.
“Me too, sweetie. And he’ll be there for a very, very long time.”
Jason had been exuberant all afternoon. It was as if the sun were finally rising from behind the mountain tops after weeks of pitch black night. Seeing the news report now seemed to make it that much more official - it made it real. Travis Delgado killed Savannah Sturgess. He’s going to prison for it. Now, Savannah can rest. And so can I ...
He smiled.
“Well, I hope he never gets out!” said Amber.
“Me, too,” said Jason. “Let’s get you to bed, sweetie.” He was looking forward to a full night’s sleep free of nightmares and hauntings.
Part 3
17
Visitation
It was the best night of sleep he’d had in weeks. He couldn’t recall any dreams, and that was just fine. In the morning, Jason had taken Amber and a much less moody Brent to school, come home, and had coffee in the backyard under a clear blue sky. He left his laptop inside this morning, wanting to enjoy the sounds of nature.
After that, he went downstairs to his gym for a full body workout to get his muscles used to the rhythm again. He vowed to get back to working out with weights at least three times a week and go running in the evenings.
He pushed his body to its limit, then took a long hot shower, shaved, and got dressed, deciding there was no better time than now to take a look at the stairs and see if fixing them was something he even wanted to try tackling himself. They’d been blessedly silent last night, but as he walked down them now, the groaning and creaking were as bad as ever.
He’d just entered the living room when something hit the front door with a loud WHACK! Stepping outside, he saw a newspaper on the porch. Jason didn’t subscribe to the paper and it seemed a little late in the day for delivery. He’d assumed the paperboy had been running behind and made a mistake until he read the headline:
‘SHADOW SPRINGS’ OWN GHOST WHISPERER,’ with a picture of Jason leaving the courthouse right beneath it. He groaned, debating on whether or not he should bother reading it. He’d hoped that after the conviction of Travis Delgado, the locals would lose interest in his involvement in the case. But apparently not yet, anyway.
He looked around, half-expecting to see someone watching him from behind the tree. I’m not going to read it, he decided, and made a show of walking to the big recycle bin on the curb and tossing it in.
As he made his way back to the house, he saw the red Lexus pull up. Marlee Delgado? She parked on the street and got out, offering him a thin smile. “Jason?”
He hesitated. “Marlee. How can I help you?” What does she want?
“I’m sure I’m the last person you want to see right now, but I was wondering …” She pulled off her big black sunglasses. “I was wondering if maybe you could squeeze me in for a massage. Or maybe just coffee?”
Jason tried not to look astonished. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Marlee.” He turned to walk inside, but she clutched his elbow.
“Please.” Her voice cracked like old leather. “I’m not here to make trouble. I’m just trying to go on with my life and as you might imagine, I’ve become a bit of a leper around town, and … I thought maybe we could talk. You’re probably the only person I can talk to at this point.”
Jason watched her for a moment. Her eyes were swollen and red, her thick makeup doing nothing to cover the dark circles under them or the fine lines around her mouth. He felt sorry for her. If he was an outcast just for knowing where to find Savannah’s body, Marlee must be going through hell as the wife of a murderer. And pedophile. He looked around to see if Dottie was watching from her window. There was no sign of her. He sighed. “Come in.”
Jason brewed fresh coffee as Marlee sat in silence at the dining table, staring at her hands. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to the woman - he certainly wasn’t going to apologize - and decided he’d let her lead. He poured two cups of coffee, handed one to Marlee, and sat down across from her.
She neither spoke nor drank her coffee, just wrapped her hands around the cup as if it were a life preserver. Jason noted a small tremor in her fingertips. At last, she said, “I’m sorry for the trouble we’ve caused you, Jason.”
Jason sipped his coffee. “You’ve got troubles of your own, Marlee. Don’t worry about it.”
She looked up at him. “Is it true? How you knew where the body was?”
He sighed. “The trial’s over, Marlee. I’m not discussing it any further with anyone. I told the truth on the stand and if everyone needs to think otherwise, that’s none of my business.”
She nodded. “I believe you.”
He tried not to show his surprise.
“But I guess, what I’m wondering is …” She leaned forward, intent, her expression desperate. “Did you see anything more … specific?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”
“I mean, did you actually see him kill her?”
“No.”
Marlee blinked sooty eyes at him. “I don’t think he did it, Jason.”
“Marlee, the evidence-”
“I realize what it looks like - and I’m more aware than anyone of Travis’ faults. But you have to understand something … I know my man. I know him. And he didn’t kill her.” She shifted. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I just don’t think Travis could actually kill someone. It’s not him.”
“Marlee, I’m probably not the best person to discuss this with.”
“But you are. You’re the only person I can discuss it with.” She wiped her eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“I realize you don’t know Travis very wel
l … but do you believe it? I mean, do you really believe it?”
Jason considered. “I don’t know. He has a violent streak obviously, and-”
“But that’s not murder.”
“No, but the nature of violence is that it escalates.” He paused. “From what I know of Travis, he likes to use intimidation tactics and by your own admission as well as Savannah’s diary, he’s violent. I think that he probably had a fight with her and it got out of hand. Maybe he didn’t mean to kill her, but …”
Marlee sniffed and pulled a tissue out of her purse.
“I wish I could tell you I didn’t think he was guilty, but I can’t. The evidence is just too strong.”
She dabbed her eyes. “But do you believe in intuition?”
He considered. “Sure.”
“Then why is my intuition telling me he didn’t do it?”
“I think it’s pretty likely that you don’t want to believe it, Marlee. And I don’t blame you.”
She shook her head. “No. I know the difference between denial and instinct, and my instinct says he didn’t do it. I’d know if he’d done it. I don’t know how to explain that, but I’d just know.”
Jason sipped his coffee, wondering if perhaps she was right. Was it possible that Travis hadn’t killed Savannah? He had to admit, it had crossed his mind more than once - and he’d quickly pushed it aside. It was a done deal, and he was ready to move on with his life. Enough of Savannah. Enough of Travis. Enough of all of it. He wasn’t willing to explore it further. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Marlee.”
“But maybe you can.”
“What do you mean?”
Marlee shifted. “I wonder if you could get more information. Like, maybe you could ask Savannah to show you more.”
Is she serious? “I’m not sure it works like that. And since Travis was charged with her murder, I haven’t had any more … incidents. That tells me she’s satisfied. Which means …”
“No.” Marlee shook her head. “Maybe she wanted him to go to prison for it, but he didn’t do it.”
Jason placed a hand over hers. “Marlee, I’m sorry but I don’t know what else to tell you. Even if he were innocent, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
She pulled her hand away. “I know you hate him, and you have every right to. I don’t blame you for that, not at all. But he’s not a murderer, it’s as simple as that. He’s a bully and a tyrant, but he’s also a coward - all bullies are just cowards - and he’s not capable of murder, and he’s certainly not capable of coming home afterward as if nothing had happened.” She looked at him. “I know he didn’t do it, Jason, and if you believe in intuition as much as I do, then I think you know it, too, on some level.”
Her words chilled him.
“I’m right about this, Jason. I know I am. I think everyone simply accepted the verdict because they wanted to. Travis is a jackass, there’s no doubt about that, but he’s not a murderer and you know it. I can see it in your eyes.” Her face crumpled and her voice broke, sounding like dirt in a door hinge. “You know it.”
Jason swallowed. Was she right? Had he ever really believed Travis was guilty? He wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain: The woman before him genuinely believed her husband was innocent.
The light of the nearly full moon turned the raindrops silver on the window. Unable to sleep, Jason sat in bed, trying to read, but he couldn’t get his mind off Marlee’s visit. He was haunted by her certainty that Travis was innocent, and when he dug deep within himself, asking hard questions, he acknowledged that he certainly wanted to believe the man was guilty. Travis deserved to be in prison - in fact, he needed to be in prison. But was he a murderer? If not, then who had done it? Jason mentally recited the list of possibilities, again coming up blank. He just couldn’t picture anyone he’d met in Shadow Springs bludgeoning Savannah Sturgess to death with a blunt object. Since Travis’ verdict, even Marshall Redding seemed an unlikely suspect.
Tap, tap, tap, came the rain on the window.
Frustrated, uneasy, and needing to use the bathroom, Jason pushed himself off the bed - and that’s when blinding pain exploded in his head.
His legs buckled and he hit the floor.
Not the floor, the earth. It was cold beneath him and dirt and pine needles bit into his skin. His body went icy and he felt the sense of disconnect - of being other than - as if he’d stepped into a new skin.
Savannah’s skin.
A scream burgeoned within him, but he had no voice to command - his body was no longer his own.
‘Whore.’ The harsh whisper came from somewhere above him, but he couldn’t roll himself over, couldn’t see his assailant. Blood dripped into his eyes, hot and thick. He heard the crunch of earth under heavy feet as someone walked a slow circle around his broken body. He tried to see shoes, to see anything, but his sight came in blurs and waves. He breathed hard, inhaling dirt, gagging on it.
A hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him roughly onto his back and Jason stared up at the trees, the stars. He realized he was in the woods behind the fairgrounds - he could hear the distant laughter of fair-goers, the melody of the carousel. Pain throbbed, biting into his skull as if a crocodile had locked its jaw onto his head. His vision flickered in and out, and in a brief moment of clarity, he saw a white owl swoop down from the sky and perch on a limb. It cocked its head, blinked, and called to him. ‘Who?’ It was, Jason realized, the last peaceful thing that Savannah Sturgess had seen. He watched it for just a moment and then came a flash of motion as something heavy crashed down on his head, crushing it.
And then the world went black. The pain was gone. His fear was gone. Everything was gone.
BONG-DONG-DING-BONG!
He shot up from the floor, sweating and gasping for breath, no idea how long he’d been out.
It came again: BONG-DONG-DING-BONG!
The doorbell! Jason ran from the room and down the hall, clambered down the stairs. In the living room the groans of zombies resounded from the television. On the screen, a woman with dreadlocks drove a katana through the skull of an animated corpse. Brent lay on the couch, staring at the screen.
“Didn’t you hear that?” asked Jason.
Brent didn’t answer.
Jason checked the door and stared out into the empty night.
“What are you doing, Dad?”
Jason shut the door, dread kindling in his stomach. Not again. Please, tell me it isn’t starting again!
“The doorbell,” Jason said. “Didn’t you hear it?”
Brent shook his head and turned the volume on the television down. “Did the TV wake you?”
“No, it wasn’t the TV! It was the doorbell.”
Brent shrugged. “I didn’t notice. I’m pretty sure no one came to the door, Dad.”
“Daddy?” Amber’s sleep-thick voice came from the top of the stairs. “Who was it?”
Jason and Brent exchanged astonished looks.
“No one, sweetie,” Jason called to her. “Just go back to bed, okay?”
Amber sighed. “Okay, Daddy. Goodnight.”
Jason was baffled. How was it that he and Amber were both woken up and Brent hadn’t heard a thing? It didn’t make sense - no sense at all. He looked at Brent. “You didn’t hear it? You swear you didn’t hear it?”
Brent shook his head. “No, Dad, I swear I didn’t hear a thing, but the TV was pretty loud.”
Jason sat next to his son and put his face in his hands.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, son?”
“What’s going on?” His voice was uncertain.
“It isn’t over.” And Jason knew, with scrotum-shriveling sureness, that was the truth.
“Wh-what? What isn’t over?”
“Travis Delgado didn’t kill Savannah Sturgess.” The words were like a mouthful of rusty nails, coppery, biting, and bitter.
Brent was on his feet. “What? Why would you say that? Of course he killed her! They proved it in court! They proved it and
the guy went to prison for it! Why are you doing this, Dad?”
Jason shook his head. “They’re wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know. I know it, Brent. Please keep your voice down. Amber is-”
“Leave it alone, Dad! Just leave it alone!”
Jason put his head in his hands, sighing deeply. “I don’t think I can, son.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Watch your-”
“No! You finally got away from all of this and now you want to start it up all over again. What is wrong with you, Dad?”
“I need you to calm-”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You can’t stand the peace! You have to create drama so you have something to distract you from how miserable you are! Well, you can be as miserable as you want, but you’re not taking me and Amber with you this time. You can just keep ignoring us so you can run around playing detective, but I’m not putting up with it. If you even think about getting involved again, I’m calling child services and telling them you’re an unfit father! They’ll charge you with child neglect and me and Amber will go live with someone who has time for us!” Brent stalked up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door.
Jason was neither bewildered nor angered by his son’s reaction. He couldn’t blame the kid a bit. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut, and wishing for escape. But there was no escaping Savannah Sturgess. He knew she’d keep at it until her murderer - her real murderer - was behind bars. “Why me?” he asked the empty room. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
18
Reversal
Jason didn’t feel like being outside this morning. Instead, he sat at the dining table, his coffee untouched. His head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton and his thoughts buzzed haphazardly around like bumper cars on the fritz. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours and the coffee wasn’t helping.
His cell phone bellowed from the kitchen, startling him. He hurried to his feet and swept it off the counter; he didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
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