What She Left for Me

by Tracie Peterson

  It was probably Mom. She was always very efficient in this area. Jana was actually surprised that there wasn’t some kind of breakfast platter waiting to be warmed. With toast and coffee in hand, Jana sat down at the dining room table and began to eat. She felt awkward not stopping to pray. She and Rob had always prayed over meals—even small ones.

  She pushed the thought aside and reached to her right to pick up the local paper. It was actually the Missoula paper, but at least there was information that was somewhat relevant to their area.

  Browsing through the pages, Jana read briefly of fears for the summer’s fire dangers. Missoula, it appeared, was quite well known for some sort of firefighting, smoke-jumper’s school, and they were already preparing for the worst. Another article mentioned problems with one of the school districts, while another touched on bear control.

  It seemed so strange to read of wildlife problems. In Spokane, Jana had been completely focused on city life and the faster pace it brought. Here in Montana, she felt as if she’d stepped back in time. Things moved at a much slower pace, and the focal issues were completely different.

  Jana was about to head to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee when the doorbell sounded. She couldn’t imagine who would be calling at such an early hour. It was barely past eight. She headed to the door but heard her mother conversing with someone.

  “Yes, she lives here. May I ask what this is about?”

  “We need to speak with Jana McGuire. That’s really all I can say at this point,” a man stated.

  Jana stepped forward. “I’m Jana McGuire.”

  Her mother moved back from the door. “This is Detective Tim Cooley from Spokane and Brian Moore, one of our local police officers,” her mother explained.

  “I don’t understand. What’s this all about?” Jana questioned.

  “We’d like to talk to you about your husband,” the older of the two men announced.

  “My husband? I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

  “If we could just sit down together,” Brian suggested.

  “Of course. Come in.” Jana had no reason to suggest otherwise.

  Eleanor motioned them to the right and into the living room. Once they were all seated, Jana looked to the detective. “Again, I don’t understand what this is about. As much as I hate to talk about it, my husband left me for another woman. If you want to talk to Rob, you’ll have to go to Seattle. At least that’s where I was told he’d gone.”

  “Mrs. McGuire, I don’t know how else to break this to you but to simply come out and say it. Your husband is dead.”

  Jana’s eyes widened as she emitted a gasp. “What?” She looked to her mother in stunned disbelief. “What is he saying?”

  Eleanor immediately took control. “Yes, what are you saying? Is this some kind of a joke? Let me see your identification again.” She stood and went to the detective.

  The man withdrew his badge and ID card and handed her both. “I’m sorry to shock you in this manner. We thought you might have already heard. It’s been on the news.”

  “When . . . how?” Jana could barely issue the words.

  “Your husband was shot by Jason Broadbent. I presume you know whom I’m talking about.”

  Jana’s shock ran deeper. “Jason? Oh no. Oh, I can’t believe any of this is happening. Rob can’t be dead. He just can’t be.” Tears flooded her eyes as she buried her face in her hands. Nothing seemed real in that moment. Then Jana remembered her mother’s adage: There are worse things than death. Oh, it was so true.

  The detective waited a moment before continuing. “I need to ask you what you know about this situation.”

  Jana shot him a look. “What? I don’t know anything about this situation.”

  “Well, let me be the judge of that.” The detective took out a pen and small spiral notebook. “Why were you and your husband divorcing?”

  “He ran off with Jason’s wife, Kerry. Rob filed for divorce while I was in Africa on a missions trip for our church.”

  “And when were you in Africa?”

  Jana gave him the dates and shook her head, but it was Eleanor who spoke. “I don’t understand. If you have her husband’s killer, why do you need to speak with her about all of this?”

  The man ignored Eleanor, something Jana was sure her mother wasn’t used to. “Mrs. McGuire, when did you first become aware that your husband wanted a divorce?”

  “When I returned from Africa. He didn’t show up at the airport, and when I finally got home, I found a note from him. We’d never even discussed the idea of divorce; in fact, we were planning a family. I learned while I was in Africa that I was pregnant.” Jana didn’t know why she shared this information with the officer, since she’d had no intention of sharing it with the divorce court.

  “And how did you learn that your husband was leaving you?” he continued, writing all the while.

  Jana frowned. “I just told you he left me a note.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  She nodded. “Yes, it’s with my divorce papers. I thought I might need it.”

  “Would you mind getting it for me?”

  Jana got to her feet and went to the front door table, where she’d left her purse and the papers. Bringing the entire envelope, she suddenly realized she wouldn’t need them anymore. There would be no divorce.

  She handed the envelope to the detective. “You might as well have it all. Those are my divorce papers and the bank statements showing Rob depleted our account when he left, as well as the note and a list of items Rob took with him. Including my personal jewelry.” She sat back down and tried to calm her nerves.

  The detective reviewed the contents, made a few more notes, then replaced the papers before looking back to Jana.

  “Did you hire Jason Broadbent to kill your husband?” he asked very matter-of-factly.

  Jana was totally unprepared. “What? Is that what Jason said?”

  Eleanor reached out and touched Jana’s arm. “Maybe you shouldn’t say anything more. Perhaps we should call a lawyer.”

  “I’m not a criminal,” Jana declared, getting to her feet. “I was deserted. My husband stole my bank savings, my jewelry . . . even my microwave.” She flushed, unsure of why she’d thrown such an absurd comment in there, but it was done now and she couldn’t take it back. “I didn’t want a divorce. I didn’t want Rob dead. I wanted my life back. I wanted to wake up and find out that everything had just been a terrible nightmare. But instead, the nightmare goes on.”

  “Jana, you need to calm yourself,” Eleanor said, coming alongside her daughter. She put her arm around Jana’s shoulders.

  Jana was surprised at her mother’s comforting touch. It was so foreign, yet so needed. She was further strengthened by her mother’s obvious support as she turned to the interrogator.

  “Are you filing charges against my daughter?”

  “No, ma’am. We’re merely here to clear up a few things. Jason Broadbent fully admits to what he’s done. Two other people witnessed the act, one being his wife. However, as we spoke to Jason, we were curious about something he said.”

  “And what would that be?” Eleanor asked coolly.

  “He said that Jana had expressed that she’d be better off if her husband were dead—that at least she’d have the insurance money.”

  Jana’s heart sank. She felt her knees grow weak. “Oh no.” She pushed away from her mother and sank back onto the sofa.

  “Did you say that, Mrs. McGuire?”

  Jana was sickened by the memory of her words. Had that prompted Jason to go out and kill Rob? Had her flippant remarks caused Jason Broadbent to forfeit his life and the life of her husband? She wanted to close her eyes and make it all go away, but she knew she couldn’t. She knew anything she said or did could be used against her. Used against me in a court of law . . . isn’t that what they say when they read someone their rights?

  “Mrs. McGuire?”

  Jana looked up and met the detective’s watc
hful gaze. “Yes. Yes, I said something to that extent. But you have to understand.” She forced her breathing to steady and refused to look away even though her heart flooded with fear. “I was angry. I had just been taken for everything I had of any value. My husband left me for another woman, even though I thought we had a perfectly good marriage. Jason came to my house asking me if I’d be okay, and I lost it. I told him I’d never be okay again, and I won’t be. Especially now.” She shook her head and closed her eyes.

  “I told him I would have been better off if Rob had died because then at least I’d have the insurance money to see me and the baby through until I could find a job. But as it stood, I had nothing. That’s why I left Spokane so quickly. The church had already hired another pastor while I was in Africa and they needed the parsonage for him and his family. I had no means to move out on my own—no job, no money—so I called my mother here in Lomara and asked if I could move in.”

  She opened her eyes and again met the detective’s scrutiny. “I didn’t ask Jason to kill my husband, and that’s the truth.”

  The detective nodded. “That’s what Jason told us too. He also told us about the baby.”

  “Then why put her through this torment?” Eleanor snapped. “You come here with distressing news and then treat her like she’s played some part in it?”

  “We have to explore all the possibilities in a homicide case, ma’am.” The man appeared completely unconcerned about Eleanor’s outburst—it was almost as if he were simply laying out all his cards and getting their reaction.

  But of course, Jana thought. He’s watching me to see how I’ll react to the news of Rob’s death, to the fact that Jason killed him. To everything. He’s watching my every move—every word. She straightened ever so slightly, almost relieved to finally understand the game he was playing.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?” Jana questioned. “Do I need to come to the police station or back to Spokane?”

  “Not at this time,” the detective said, closing his notebook. “Will I be able to reach you at this address and telephone?”

  “Of course. I’ll be here—it’s the only place I have. It’s all that’s left me.”

  Her heart felt as though it were breaking all over again. How could Rob really be dead? Deep within she’d grasped on to the feeble chance that maybe someday, somehow, they might come back together. That the baby might allow them to put the past behind them. But now that would never happen. Rob was dead.

  Sixteen

  The days dragged by and the nights were impossible. Jana could find no solace in sleep or in wakefulness. She sat alone in her room, thinking of Rob and all that they’d once known together. Rob had been a mainstay in her very unsettled life. And though she’d already battled her anger over his betrayal, she couldn’t accept the fact that now he was dead.

  For several moments Jana let her thoughts run wild. She tried to imagine Jason coming to Rob. She wondered if he told Rob about the baby. Had Rob died knowing that he was going to be a father?

  The baby.

  Jana kept thinking of how she would one day have to explain to her unborn child that his or her father had been killed by the heartbroken spouse of the woman he’d run off with.

  “No, I could never tell my child the truth about that. I’ll simply tell him his father died, and maybe later explain that he was murdered. But I won’t reveal why.”

  Even as she said the words aloud, Jana felt a twinge of discomfort. After all, she felt her life had been built on secrets and lies, and now she was planning to do the same for her child. But what else could she do? How could anyone, much less a child, get his mind around the truth of this situation?

  Maybe that’s how Mom feels when I ask her to discuss the past.

  The thought startled Jana. Was that the truth? Was the past so hideous that her mother had no way to convey the information? But surely my situation is much worse.

  It was so hard to come to grips with the reality of what had happened. Where was Rob killed? How had it all happened? She had so many questions. Questions that only Jason and Kerry and some unnamed witness had answers to.

  “I could go see Jason,” she reasoned. Then just as quickly she dismissed the idea. Nothing would look more like a conspiracy than to have the widow of a murdered man show up at the jail to have a talk with the murderer.

  But even if she knew the truth and all its details, Jana seriously doubted it would make things any better. Her husband, louse that he was, did not deserve to be murdered. Cut down in the prime of his life. Jana had never wished that for him.

  “I might have wished he’d simply disappear,” she told the room, “but I never wished him dead.”

  She stroked her stomach. “Baby, I’m so sorry for all you have to face in life. You’re not even born yet, but your path is already being decided for you.”

  The thought made Jana sad. She tried to imagine her child growing up without a father. All she or he would have would be an angry, confused mother, an indifferent grandmother, and a zany great-great-aunt, who, chances were better than not, wouldn’t be around much longer.

  That thought only led Jana to more depressing and discouraging thoughts. Taffy might, if really blessed, live another ten or twenty years at the most. It wasn’t enough time. Jana began to resent her mother for keeping Taffy from her all these years. How different might things have been if Taffy had been a part of them? Maybe Jana would have been happy and secure. Maybe she would have never met and married Rob. It might have been possible that she and her mother would have had a wonderful relationship instead of none at all.

  Jana grew bored with her speculation and contemplation. She went to the closet and pulled out a burgundy blouse and jeans. She dressed with no real interest in her appearance, but she did note as she fastened the waistband of her jeans that they were nearly too tight to fit into. Despite the pregnancy, Jana hadn’t been eating well and had lost nearly fifteen pounds. Because of this, her own clothes were still fitting, and she’d given maternity clothes very little consideration. She supposed now she’d have to do something about it. Her tops might well take her into another month or so, but her pants and jeans wouldn’t last much longer.

  She looked in the mirror and saw the hollow, haunted reflection of a stranger stare back. The woman Jana saw bore little resemblance to the person she’d once been. But in spite of having plenty of makeup to help remedy the problem, Jana did nothing more to help her haggard appearance than run a brush through her long, straight brown hair. Rob had always insisted she wear it long. She touched her hair, remembering the way Rob liked to play with it when they were curled up watching television.

  A sigh escaped her lips. She would never love again. Her life of romance and companionship with a soul mate was over. The thought left her very sad and almost sent her back to bed.

  Forcing herself to go downstairs, Jana went into the living room and glanced around for any sign of her mother or Taffy. There was no one. The silence of the room welcomed her, and Jana accepted the invitation. For several moments she did nothing but stand quietly and gather her thoughts. She couldn’t help but wonder about the woman whose home this had been for so many years.

  Jana began to study each picture and piece of memorabilia. Who was Taffy Anderson? What had she loved? Where had she traveled? Picking up an ebony carving of a black panther, Jana remembered Africa. She could almost feel the heat on her skin.

  “If I hadn’t gone . . .” she whispered to the figurine. But she knew her time in Africa had nothing to do with the destruction of her marriage. Apparently that had already been in the works.

  She replaced the panther and continued to study the pieces on the fireplace mantel.

  “You know what you need, dearie?”

  Jana turned to find Taffy watching her. “No, what?” she asked her aunt.

  “A drive up into the mountains. Stanley and I already have a trip planned today. Why don’t you join us? We’ll have great fun. We’re goin
g to picnic by a stream.”

  While the idea sounded inviting, Jana had no desire to be around other people. “Thanks anyway,” she replied, shaking her head. “I’d rather not. But please ask me again sometime.”

  Taffy smiled sympathetically. “I will, but you must promise me something.”

  Jana cocked her head to the right. “And what would that be?”

  “I want you to promise me that you won’t dwell too long on ‘what ifs.’ It won’t bring Rob back to you, but it very well might destroy your chance for further happiness.”

  “I doubt I’ll ever be happy again.”

  “I used to think that way too. But it isn’t true.”

  “But Rob was . . . I thought he was my soul mate, and I thought he felt the same toward me. That’s why it hurt so much when he left me for Kerry. I’ll never find anyone like that again—nor do I even want to try.”

  “And for now, thinking this way is perfectly fine,” Taffy said, coming to where Jana stood. “You need time to mourn and to let go of the anger and hurt. You will never be the divorced wife of Rob McGuire. You are his widow. That’s something no one can take away from you. It’s a respectable title.”

  “You make it sound like an honor. He’s dead, and I’d much rather have him back than have a respectable title.”

  Taffy reached out and touched Jana’s cheek. Her hands were cold, but Jana didn’t mind. “It’s not that I want to make it sound honorable; it’s just that I know how much it hurt you to think of being divorced—of bearing that title when you did nothing to deserve it. So many women suffer this fate, and sadly enough, even good Christian people treat them horribly for that title.” Taffy patted Jana’s face, then squeezed her hand. “It only matters because I’m coming to know you.”

  Jana had to admit the woman was right. It had bothered her a lot to think she would bear the title of divorcée when she had never done anything to instigate the dissolution of her marriage.