Jones, Beverly R
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“Kendall, that’s not the point and you know it. I’m getting tired of going around and around with you about this. Give me back the checks and I’ll just give you the cash instead. You can do whatever you want with the money then. Spend it, save it, throw it in the wind. I don’t care.”
“Jackson, I am not going to take a thousand dollars a week from you. That is absolutely ridiculous. Do you realize what that equates to? Would you advertise for household help and then pay them fifty-two thousand dollars a year? Of course, you wouldn’t.”
Jackson let out a long sigh, frustrated that he was unable to explain to her how he felt about accepting her hard work for nothing. And also how he couldn’t allow her to do things as if she were his wife. How that made him feel. How he was afraid of slipping into the comfort of something that wasn’t to be. If she were his wife, he could easily buy her clothes, jewelry, throw money her way anytime he wanted. But she wasn’t his wife, and she wouldn’t accept his buying gifts for her. He understood that. So the only thing he could do was give her paychecks. She had earned them. She deserved them. But he could explain none of that to her, he realized.
Kendall began mumbling to herself, repeating in exasperation, “Fifty-two thousand dollars! That’s insane.” Suddenly the dish fell from her hands and crashed to the floor, green beans and shards of glass scattering at her feet. She stood stunned, staring ahead at nothing, her eyes unblinking.
‘There’s over five hundred thousand dollars missing. Where is it? Christ, do you have any idea
what you’ve done? He probably thinks I had something to do with it, too. He’ll kill both of us.’ ‘Don’t be so melodramatic. He would never hurt me. Or you. He’s not like that.’ ‘Only because you don’t want to believe he’s like that. Half a million dollars of what he considers
his money is missing. Just give it to him; it’s not worth it. You’ll find out exactly what he’s really like, if you don’t. How can you be so stupid, anyway? You, of all people, ought to know him better than anyone.’
Her mind involuntarily shifted, the memory of the man quickly fading, a new memory replacing it, another man, a scene that left her immobile still, though her shoulders began to shake.
‘What did you do, dammit! Where is it? It’s mine!’ ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re hurting me.’ He was gripping her arm, twisting it.
The voices played in her mind as if it had happened just yesterday, the pain of her twisted arm so
real that she now grasped her right forearm and rubbed it. “You’re hurting me,” Kendall whispered out loud, her body trembling. Casey and Tom had entered the kitchen upon hearing the breaking glass and stood just inside the
door. They stared in apprehension at the alarmed look on Kendall’s face. “Kendall?” Jackson placed a hand on her arm. “Kendall, what are you saying? Are you okay?” Kendall looked down at the broken dish and food splattered on the floor, the string beans splayed
like shiny green worms at her feet.
‘You know damn well what I’m talking about. I don’t know when you figured it all out, but you’re the only one who could have moved that money. I worked hard for it, and no sanctimonious little bitch like you is going to keep me from having it.’
‘You can’t be serious. I’m not about to give it to you.’ ‘Oh, no? Well, let’s just see what I can do to convince you otherwise.’ ‘There’s nothing you can say that will convince me to give you that money.’ ‘Say? Nothing I can say? God, you really are stupid, aren’t you?’ He tightened his grip on her arm, twisting it harder. Then suddenly he put his other hand behind
her head and jerked her face toward his own. He planted his snarling lips on hers and then bit her
bottom lip. She recoiled. ‘My God, what is wrong with you?’ Her body shuddered. He laughed at her mockingly. ‘That’s only a taste of me, Sweets.’ He continued laughing, his
eyes penetrating hers, his lip curling in disgust.
His laughter resounded in her mind. Kendall shook her head, lost in the frightening memory, tears welling up in her eyes as she continued to look down at the floor, though not really seeing it or the mess she’d made. Instead she saw the vision of him, watched as though she were removed from the terrible scene that played out in her mind, saw the man release her arm and walk behind his desk and sit down, staring at her smugly. She saw the papers scattered over the desk’s surface, nearly obscuring the heavy wooden bronzed nameplate that sat at the front edge facing her. The name stared out at her. Ted Kendall.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Kendall whispered, still staring at the floor.
“Kendall, look at me,” Jackson called her name and shook her gently. “It’s okay. It was an ugly dish. I never liked that stupid thing, anyway. And I didn’t really feel like green beans for supper, either.” He smiled at her.
“I’m not stupid,” she whispered.
“Of course, you’re not stupid. I wasn’t calling you stupid,” Jackson said softly.
Kendall looked up then and saw Jackson standing before her, saw the concerned look in his eyes, knew that she was safe again, that it had all been a horrible memory. “No, he thinks I’m stupid,” Kendall whispered.
“What?” Jackson looked stunned.
“Kendall, did you just have a memory of someone?” Casey asked as she walked over to Kendall and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Kendall took a deep breath and looked from Casey to Tom to Jackson. “Yes,” she breathed out slowly. “A memory of a man. Two memories, actually. Two different men.”
“Why are you rubbing your arm?” Casey asked. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“What? Oh.” She ceased rubbing her arm, feeling foolish. “The memory was just so vivid. He was twisting my arm.” She lowered her gaze to the floor and whispered, “It was as if I could still feel it.”
Jackson’s face held a pained expression, then one of anger at the thought of a man physically hurting her. He held Kendall by the shoulders and gently guided her over to the kitchen table. “Come sit down.” Jackson sat in a chair next to her.
Casey and Tom sat down at the table across from Kendall, their faces showing strains of worry and confusion
“Who are these men?” Jackson asked softly. “Do you know their names?”
“One of them, yes,” Kendall answered, still looking dazed. “And it all makes sense, I guess, because…”
“Because what?” Jackson urged quietly.
“Because…” Kendall’s shoulders trembled as a tear escaped and ran to her chin. “Because I-I have the same name,” she sputtered, unable to continue.
“What?” Jackson looked at her, bewildered. “What do you mean, you have the same name? You remembered your name?”
Kendall stared back at him. “Not exactly.”
“What, then?”
“First of all, that day in the hospital, when I told you my name was Kendall and then admitted that I’d gotten it off of the box of gauze on the counter, that part was true. I had no idea what my name was, but when I saw the name Kendall on that box and then said it to you out loud, it somehow seemed right. Something just seemed to click and I felt comfortable with it. And now I guess I know why.” She paused, then added, “The man in the last memory I just had. We were in his office. He was twisting my arm and arguing with me about giving him back the money. I could see the nameplate on his desk. His name is Ted Kendall.”
“And you think he’s family?”
Kendall looked into Jackson’s face, then turned and looked at both Casey and Tom. Her face lowered and she nervously scratched a fingernail across the wooden surface of the table. The tear dripped off the end of her chin onto her tee shirt. “I’m not sure,” she began, barely above a whisper. “I think he may be…” she stammered, then paused again before looking up at the three people who had come to mean so much to her. They had been her family. Part of her wanted to pretend they still were. For the first time, she wished her past could remain an empty hollow
. She let out a slow breath and whispered, “I think he may be my husband. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
≈≈≈
He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. Sitting on hard dirt covered with pine straw was making his ass itch. Still well hidden as he stood at the edge of the forest, he leaned down, picked up the pair of binoculars, and looked across the highway one last time. This was getting him nowhere. He could barely see anything distinct at the end of the long gravel road that led to the house. Too much was obscured by trees, crops and outbuildings. If she were indeed staying there, he’d never find out this way. But what else could he do? Go up and knock on the door? He didn’t want to think about the problems that might ensue from taking that approach.
He walked back to the clearing where he’d parked the rental car, reached through the open window and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from the dash. He lit one and took a deep drag. He’d been sitting out here for too many days, waiting for an opportunity to get to her, and he had no idea if she were even here. This could be nothing but a big waste of time. Earlier, he had entertained the idea of going to the next farm down the highway to see what he might be able to find out, but had thought that would be too much of a risk. Now, he no longer cared about the risk. He needed to find out one way or another.
He took one last drag of the cigarette, threw it on the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of his shoe. As he looked at the smashed cigarette butt lying in the dirt, he wondered if maybe he should just set the whole damn forest on fire. That ought to send everybody running. He laughed at the thought of her scurrying from the house, but then frowned at the number of people who might also be scurrying around out here with her. Hell, a forest fire might attract half the county residents.
He slid onto the driver’s seat, turned the ignition and drove out of the clearing onto the dirt road that led back to the highway. There he let the car idle for a moment as he scanned the farm once more. From this position, the only thing he could see of the house was the roof, and nothing moved elsewhere except horses and cattle in the pastures along the gravel drive. He grunted, turned right onto the highway and headed for the next farm over.
Chapter 14
>Jackson sat at the kitchen table and stared at Kendall. Well, there it was, finally. Kendall held her face in her hands and sobbed. He lowered his eyes after a moment in stunned disbelief. He didn’t know what to say to her. What could he say? The fact that she had just told them she had a husband shouldn’t have surprised him. It was a fear he had held onto in the back of his mind for a long time now. A fear that had frustrated him during those times when he had allowed himself to get too close to Kendall, the same fear that had pushed him away from her.
It now confirmed his hesitancy of getting too involved with her. She was a married woman, had a life he knew nothing about. The woman he had come to know here on this farm was no more. It was as if she had been a figment of his imagination, some dream from which he had just awoken.
Casey broke the silence. “What else do you remember, Kendall?”
Kendall raised her head and wiped a hand across her cheeks, smudging her face with tears. “There’s so much that came into my head just now. And the other day, too. It was like these voices came rushing at me, and somehow I knew it was all real. It’s starting to add up, but not all of it makes sense. There’s another man, someone I’m supposed to know very well, but it just won’t come to me.”
“But the man twisting your arm was your, um, husband?” Jackson could barely get the words out. Speaking of Kendall’s husband was nothing he was able to do casually. Though he knew how important it was to Kendall to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together, mentioning her husband left him feeling a sort of dreaded defeat.
“I’m not sure. I guess so. Nothing else makes any sense. His name is Kendall. And I don’t think a relative would be so violent or threatening.”
“Do you remember anything more?” Casey asked.
Kendall nodded her head. “The man in the first memory I just had seems to perceive the other one, Ted – my husband, I guess – to be dangerous, as if I should truly be afraid of what he might do if I didn’t give this money back to him. But, I don’t know. Something about that doesn’t seem right to me. I don’t feel a threat coming from this other man. Actually, I don’t feel any real sense of danger from either one of them. It makes me feel like maybe one of them was lying, to try and get me to tell him where the money is.” Kendall breathed deeply before continuing. “But then, none of this really makes any sense to me at all. Five hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. What would I have been doing with it?”
“Five hundred thousand dollars?” Tom whistled. “Where did all that money come from?”
“I’m not sure. It has something to do with an insurance agency. An agency that I obviously owned, or co-owned, maybe. You know, the first memory I had of it was the other day when Jackson and I were arguing over whether I had an insurance policy or not. I had this crazy thought about someone stealing premiums. I just shook it off as if it didn’t mean anything. But now I’m not so sure. Maybe that’s where the $500,000 came from.” Kendall looked at them helplessly, her brow furrowed, tears still staining her cheeks. “Maybe I stole it,” she whispered. “Maybe the agency belonged to Ted Kendall, or both of us, and I extorted money from the business.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Jackson snapped. “You would no more steal money than I would.”
“You don’t know that for sure. And neither do I. It’s not all clear to me yet.”
“Well, it’s clear to me. You’re no thief. Whatever the explanation is, whatever happened to that money, it has nothing to do with you.”
“Maybe we should call the Logan City Police Chief,” Kendall offered.
“But what good would that do?” Tom asked.
“If I tell Chief Bullard what I’ve remembered, he might be able to discover if I’ve committed a crime. Now that I’m pretty sure my last name is Kendall, he could do a more thorough background search. Or one on Ted Kendall. Maybe that’s the only way we’ll find out for sure who I am,” Kendall said, sounding forlorn but determined.
“No,” Jackson said adamantly. “No way.”
“But why not? Good or bad, it may be a way to find some answers and solve the mystery of my past once and for all.” Kendall was almost pleading as she looked at Jackson for support. She saw in his eyes a look she was unable to identify. Was it anger? Or worry?
“I think we should just leave the police out of this for now. Wait and see if you remember anything else. You’ve been having more memories than ever in the last couple of days. Maybe it’s all beginning to come back, and I think we should try and figure out more of the circumstances surrounding this money before we call Chief Bullard.” Jackson insisted.
“You think there’s a chance I stole that money, don’t you?” Kendall breathed.
“Of course not, and neither does anyone else here.” Jackson looked around the table at Tom and Casey as they both nodded their heads in agreement.
“We know you better than that, Sugar,” Tom offered.
Kendall smiled at Tom. “I love you for saying that,” she said, then glanced at Jackson before settling her gaze on Casey. “I love all of you for being as caring and supportive as you’ve been, but the truth is,” Kendall added, her voice barely above a whisper, “you really don’t know me at all. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
The four of them sat in silence for a moment before Jackson pushed back his chair and walked over to the sink. He poured himself a glass of water, took three fast gulps and stared out the kitchen window into the darkness. “I don’t care if you and your husband were the modern day equivalent of Bonnie and Clyde. That’s not who you are now,” Jackson stated firmly, still looking through the window at nothing. “And I don’t even believe you could have ever been involved in anything criminal. You’ve proven to all of us what kind of person you are. You won’t even take payment for al
l the work you do around here. It’s ridiculous to think you could have changed so drastically. Your imagination is working overtime.”
“Jackson,” Kendall said quietly as she looked over at him, saw the set line of his jaw. She wanted to run to him, wanted him to pull her into his strong embrace and hold her like that until it all went away. But she knew nothing was going to go away that easily. “There’s a lot of money missing and somehow I was involved in it. We should call Chief Bullard. You don’t know what I might have done.”
“I’ll tell you what I do know,” Jackson said resolutely as he held his eyes on hers. “I know that you don’t steal from people. If somehow you ended up with that money, it had to have been for some other reason. That’s what I know. And we’re not calling Lan Bullard or anyone else.”
“I agree with Jackson,” Tom said. “I say we keep this among ourselves for now. Give it a few days, Kendall. See if you remember anything else.”
Casey rose from her chair, walked around the table to Kendall, leaned down and hugged her. “They’re right, you know. Nothing can be resolved by acting prematurely. Give yourself some time. Maybe you’ll remember something else soon. We’re here for you. You know that, don’t you?”
Kendall nodded and wiped at a tear as it slid from her lashes. What had she ever done in her life to deserve these people? She didn’t know what had happened in her past that had aligned her fate with Jackson, Casey and Tom, but she was so very grateful for it. She was also sad that it would probably be coming to an end soon. Kendall sat in silence, pondering these latest memories and the effect that subsequent ones would have on her and on this family.
Tom, in his ubiquitous ability to lighten every mood, cleared his throat and looked over at Casey and Kendall, then asked sheepishly, “Is this a bad time to say I’m hungry?”
The laughter that followed erased a lot of the sorrow from Kendall’s heart. She would figure this all out, and soon, she hoped. And she would do whatever it took to make sure this family was spared any backlash if she found her past to be less than savory. She didn’t ever want anything bad to touch these people’s lives. She owed them that much and more.