Empty Shell

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Empty Shell Page 18

by Ashley Fontainne


  I remained silent while I chewed on his words. The one thing I hated about the law was the greediness that seemed to consume it. Money ruled with a green, iron fist. I had wondered several times over the years if that was the first class all aspiring attorneys were forced to take—Greediness 101.

  True, my finances were a scary issue I had only touched upon in my head. The numbers all pointed to me being forced to sell my house and move in with either my mother or Regina. Jack’s insurance proceeds and small retirement wouldn’t begin to pay off our mounds of debt. The funeral, as meager as it was, had wiped out Jack’s last paycheck, and my monthly salary didn’t come close to covering the minimal monthly expenses.

  “The green machine is chugging along, barreling through your thin layer of morals, Melody. Money shouldn’t be your god—restoring your husband’s good name should be.”

  A hint of anger at the sound of my Meemaw’s cackling voice slithered up my spine. What, had my conscience decided to speak to me in the raspy cadence of my dead grandmother? Oh, man, I needed to get some rest and eat because Insanity Island was just around the bend.

  Roger watched me with knowing eyes, his lips pursed together as he awaited my response. Suddenly, the light bulb went off inside my head, illuminating the dark halls with a brilliant glow from the epiphany. “If we file a civil suit against the county, well, specifically against the head of the jail, right? For wrongful death—”

  “Yes, correct. Then we can introduce all the evidence pointing to Jack’s innocence from the get-go. Wait until they get a load of the evidence,” Roger finished, smiling from ear to ear when it became clear I understood what he and Bertrand had planned. “The press will have a field day, and Jack’s name will be cleared in the court of public opinion once a few unnamed sources leak out tidbits of the case to the media. When the news breaks with the truth and the media comes a-callin’ on your doorstep, this time, we grant them an interview. Waylay them with all the documentation showing Jack was falsely accused and incarcerated, which culminated in his life being taken due to neglect. The widow standing up for justice for her husband—people will lap it up. And the county will be falling all over itself to pay for your silence.”

  Yep, there it was—the greed factor. Roger was lit up like a Christmas tree while he babbled on, no longer directing his words toward me. He was verbalizing his case strategy. I knew he meant well and the plan was a great one in terms of bypassing the red tape of trying to get the police department to reopen Jack’s case. I watched Roger as he went into full legal eagle flight and paced around my office, detailing his approach to take on the county and raid the coffers.

  This wasn’t the first time I had witnessed Roger lose himself inside a case. It wasn’t like Roger didn’t represent all of his clients with professionalism and his one-hundred percent effort, but a few cases over the years had ignited a deep sense of injustice inside him. The first time I had seen him like this was when a three-year-old girl had been killed in a freak explosion from a faulty generator and he took on the manufacturer. He had turned into a pit bull that latched onto the soft throat of the enemy, not stopping until the carcass of the neglectful corporation had its throat ripped out and lay convulsing on the ground.

  I tuned Roger out while he jabbered, thanking the Lord for not only placing me in a job that had such a great boss who also happened to be a legal genius, but also for Roger’s willingness to help me. If he and Bertrand took from my shoulders the burden of proving Jack’s innocence, then that would afford me the opportunity to become an amateur sleuth on my own and start digging around to find the real killer. I bit my lip at the thought, wishing I had the money to hire a private investigator—even one of the guys who did background research for the firm would work. But that wasn’t in the financial cards for me, so I would have to learn to be a modern day Nancy Drew on my own.

  “Melody, did you hear me?”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry, I am just a tad overwhelmed here and a ton of exhausted. Doesn’t make for a good combination. What did you say?”

  Roger had stopped pacing and stood by the door to my office, his hand on the knob. I knew he hated it when he had to repeat himself and was surprised when he didn’t look at me with anger, but sympathy. I’m not sure which was worse.

  “I said you need to shut down and go home for the evening. Bertrand and I are meeting first thing in the morning tomorrow to discuss strategy. Right now, there is no need for you to be there. So you need to do three things for me. Are you listening?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “One, go home. Two, eat. Preferably a lot. Three, and this is the most important one, so please pay careful attention—stop worrying and get some rest. Let Bertrand and I take care of this and you concentrate on healing, okay? I…I need you around to keep this place running smoothly.”

  I felt my throat constrict from the lump of hot tears that appeared. The rays of the sun always shine brighter after a hard rainstorm.

  Unable to form any words, I nodded in silent agreement. Roger sensed I was on the verge of another crying jag and returned my smile, then left my office in silence. The minute the door was closed, the salty tears sprinted down my cheeks. I wiped them away with shaking fingers, irritated at myself for bawling yet again. I wasn’t a crier and this tearing up at the drop of a hat mode I was in needed to hurry up and end. I shut my computer down, gathered up my purse, and called my mom as I headed out to the parking deck.

  “Hey, Mom. I’ve got some good news. I am leaving work now and should be there in about fifteen minutes, after I stop and grab something to eat.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to hear it but I will have no such thing. You make the trip in ten and eat the chicken and dumplings I have warming on the stove. You need some rib-sticking calories, my little sunshine. Be careful driving—keep that lead foot of yours under control.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at how strange life could be sometimes. Truly, the Lord did work in mysterious ways. This day started out in the pits and then took a nosedive into the bowels of Hell itself, yet before the day had ended, it had righted itself and turned out better than I thought possible.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN - MONDAY EVENING

  My eyes burned from staring at the same pieces of paper for the last two hours. A dull ache pulsed behind my sinuses with each breath, and I wished the aspirin I’d taken minutes before would kick in. I rubbed my temples and thought about my earlier visit with Mom.

  Although she had been pleased with my report of the events of the day, she couldn’t hide her worry from me. I tried my best to put on a happy face, telling her I was fine, physically and emotionally. I even made a big production of eating two bowlfuls of the comfort food she’d fixed for me. She didn’t seem to connect the fact the food didn’t stay down when I excused myself and went to the bathroom.

  With gentle assurances, I told her Bertrand and Roger had everything lined up, and that she need not worry about me. I held her hand in mine at the table and told her my faith was stronger than it had ever been and God would get me through this, and the sadness behind her hazel eyes melted away. When I left her house, my superb acting seemed to have placated her fears and she looked less frail and more in control as I waved goodbye from my car and headed home.

  Kendal greeted me at the door when I arrived, his “Watch Melody” shift underway. Regina had gone home to do some much needed household chores and left the duties of keeping me company in the hands of Kendal. The first thirty minutes after my arrival home consisted of rehashing the day’s events to him as I sat and he listened with eager ears. When my story was complete and his questions answered, he headed to the bathroom to work on my leaky toilet.

  That had been hours ago and even though I had tried to stretch out on the couch and get some rest, my mind was too keyed up to shut down. Resigning myself to the fact that sleep wasn’t a word my body wanted to hear, I had gotten back up and been in the kitchen ever since, pouring over the files pertaining to Jac
k.

  I jumped when Kendal spoke. “I’m finished. The toilet is finally quiet and no longer runnin’. Sorry it took me so long. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  Kendal wiped his brow with a dirty hand, then moved over to the sink and stuck his long fingers under the cold water. It was close to midnight and it had taken him almost an hour to fix the guest bathroom toilet. When I had mentioned yesterday the stupid thing wouldn’t stop running and asked for the recommendation of a good plumber, Kendal insisted he could fix it. I knew he was just trying to help keep my expenses low, and I did appreciate his kind offer, but I also knew Kendal wasn’t the handyman type. Jack used to tease him all the time about being such a dolt when it came to manly mechanical-type things. How many trips had Jack made over to Kendal’s to repair something Kendal inevitably broke? Hundreds, it seemed like.

  I looked up from the papers spread out all over the kitchen table and smiled. “Oh no. Sleep seems to be my enemy these days. I’ve just been going over things, writing thoughts and memories down as they come. Thanks, Kendal—you and Regina are Godsends. But, you didn’t have to come over so late on a work night. It could have easily waited until the weekend. Here, come sit down and have a glass of tea with me,” I said, pouring him one.

  He finished wiping his hands on the dishtowel and lumbered across the kitchen floor, his limp more pronounced than normal. It probably hurt his knee to be crouched in the small confines of the front bathroom for so long. He sat down with a loud plop in the seat across from me. A twinge of guilt at letting him play plumber hit me as I watched him wince.

  “Kendal, I appreciate your help but I really could have called someone to fix it. Your knee’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

  He waved a meaty paw in my direction. “Girl, I won’t hear of it. Regina would skin my hide for lettin’ you do that, and then cook me up for breakfast. And my knee? Shoot, it hurts all the time no matter what I’m doin’. Otta see me after a huntin’ trip! I limp around like a ninety-year-old man then. That’s what gettin’ long in the tooth does to ya. Body starts failin’, hair starts fallin’, wrinkles set in and a paunch suddenly appears,” he said, patting his belly and then rubbing his knee. “My little trophy from my stupid, younger years wants to make sure I always remember never to race motocross again. Besides,” he continued, taking a huge slurp of cold tea, “I won’t have you spendin’ your money on things Jack woulda normally done. What kind of best friend would I be if I let his widow down? A poor one, that’s for sure. And I ain’t got no intention of havin’ Jack give me a good butt chewin’ when we meet again on the other side. Nope, no way. I’ve already got enough to answer for. Don’t need to add to the list.”

  Oh no, we aren’t going there right now. I know this conversation is going to happen, but I need nicotine first. I don’t have the mental strength. Change the subject, Mel.

  With a tenable grip on my emotions, I replied, “You two have always been thicker than thieves. I don’t think he could have loved you more, even if you were truly blood brothers. Now, it’s late and I already feel bad enough that you are still here and in pain. Sit a spell and catch your breath, then go home. You don’t need to stay here and babysit me, no matter what Regina says. I’m a big girl, I promise.” I forced a thousand watt smile to appear, hoping it covered my real thoughts.

  Kendal looked down and feigned studying the contents of his glass. He may have been able to hide the feelings raging by looking away, but he couldn’t mask the pain in his voice when he spoke. “He loved you so much, Mel. More than I think you really knew.”

  A wave of mixed emotions hit me all at once. Part of me wanted to cry the tears of mourning for the loss of my husband. Another part wanted to shout “Oh yeah—then explain why he cheated on me and was going to have a child with another woman!” And yet another part of me, something locked away so deep its voice was barely audible, whimpered, “Ah yes, he loved me. And I am just reaping the dark harvest of my wicked seeds, sown in my youth. The sins of the past are interwoven in the tragedies of the present. I killed him, Kendal. I drove him over the jagged edge that is the line between love and hate; devotion and nonchalance. He was a good man and I turned my back on him when he needed me the most. How many times did he reach for me, needing the comfort of his soul mate, only to have me turn away?”

  Instead I said, “I miss him so much, Kendal. I know where he is and that I will see him again, but sometimes, it just doesn’t help. There are so many things I need to say to him. Oh, God, if I could just hear his voice one more time…”

  Sorrow slammed into my chest but I refused to let it overtake me. Thankfully Kendal was still staring at the interior of his glass, which allowed me a moment to compose myself. If he had looked at me with those big, sad puppy dog eyes full of his own grief at losing his best friend, I would have lost it. I took a hefty slurp of tea, stood up, and walked over to the back door. “I wish I could say it’s nice outside, but I can’t. Join me in the humidity? It’s almost midnight, so the mosquitoes should be gone. I need to let Simba out and you and I both look like we could use some nicotine.”

  Simba bounded out the door and I wasn’t far behind her. Kendal rose painfully from his spot at the dining room table and followed me outside. I lit two smokes and handed him one.

  “God, standin’ out here puffin’ away takes me back. Remember how we stood out here and almost froze to death when that big ice storm hit?” Kendal said, seeming as eager to change the subject as I was.

  I let out a plume of smoke and it hung in the heavy air around me. “Oh yes! It was so eerie. No noise at all except the sporadic cracking of pine trees. My gosh, I think we were without power for almost two weeks. It was hard to enjoy the beauty of everything covered in ice when the fear of a tree smashing into the house was at the front of our thoughts.”

  Kendal eased himself into the stand alone swing and smiled at the memories. “I remember Jack givin’ me a hard time because I couldn’t figure out how to get the generator to work. I felt like a real fool after tryin’ for over two hours, only for him to point out it had no gas. Duh. Lost my man card for sure that day.”

  “Oh now, Kendal, don’t feel bad. Recall that Jack wrecked the four-wheeler, twice I believe, trying to play the neighborhood big shot by offering to go to the store and fetch supplies for our stranded neighbors. By the time the ice melted, the four-wheeler looked like it had been through a warzone.”

  Kendal threw his head back and laughed. “I did forget about that! Of course, even the best drivers were crashin’ all over the place. How could you not? We had over five inches of ice.”

  We laughed for a moment at the memories that seemed liked eons ago, but the laughter soon faded and uncomfortable silence ensued. I could tell he had something on his mind that he needed to say and even though I wasn’t a betting woman, I would have bet the house I knew what the something was. It had been at the forefront of my own thoughts for quite some time, poking and prodding, like sharp needles underneath a fingernail.

  This was the first time that Kendal and I had been alone since this nightmare began. When Regina called me at work and told me she was going to stay at her own house tonight and she had arranged for Kendal to come stay, I had cringed on the inside. I wanted to tell her to call him back, that it wasn’t necessary and I would be fine alone. But I knew her well enough to know that arguing with her once a plan was locked in place was pointless. Besides, she would start asking nosy questions if she smelled even the slightest scent of something amiss, and me requesting not to be alone with Kendal would have sent her into sensory overload.

  The cicadas, which had been abnormally loud earlier, were oddly silent. It seemed even they knew Kendal and I were about to begin a conversation neither of us wanted to have, and that shameful, hidden secrets were about to be revealed.

  I lit another cigarette and listened to the tinkle of the ice in my glass as I summoned up the courage to start the conversation. I was finding it difficult to form wor
ds. I knew what Kendal wanted to discuss, but I also knew when I told him the secret I had kept for over twenty-one years, our friendship might not survive the deception. The thought of losing another person I loved in my life made my stomach drop and left me lightheaded.

  “Mel, I…I need to talk to you. Need to ask you a few questions. Only ones you can answer. Ain’t nobody I’ve ever known can come close to explainin’ God’s word in such a way that even an ol’ country bumpkin like me can understand.”

  Thank goodness he spoke first! Okay, so maybe I was wrong. He doesn’t want to discuss that night.

  I looked across the patio at him as he rocked in the swing. The dim light from inside the kitchen and the faint glow from the moon above us caressed Kendal’s features in a way that made it look like a larger version of Jack was sitting across from me. How many times had Jack and I sat in these exact same spots over the years and talked late into the evening? The sting of tears hit my eyes, so I yanked my glasses off and rubbed them away, feigning tiredness.

  My eyes still closed, I said, “I don’t deserve such praise but, thank you. So, what’s on your mind?”

  Kendal fidgeted and repositioned his body in the swing. It was obvious he was nervous about whatever he was going to ask me. A full minute passed. “Well, I’m sure I’ll screw it up and my question won’t make a lick of sense, so bear with me while I try and figure out how to ask it. I think I need to give some back story first, okay?”

 

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