Andrew was relieved when Adam finally opened his good eye. It took several heart stopping seconds of panic and fear before he was able to focus on Andrew.
“Dew?”
“I’m here,” Andrew said softly.
“Booboo,” Adam moaned, his good eye filling with tears.
“I know,” Andrew whispered. He reached out and stroked the dark fuzz on the top of Adam’s head. “I’m sorry I was too late, Adam, but I promise I won’t let him hurt you again. I’ll protect you.”
With a muffled cry, Andrew finally succeeded in tearing himself out of his dream. Chest heaving and covered in sweat, he ran his hands over his body to confirm that he was truly awake and not still caught in his nightmares. His resulting sigh did little to calm the pounding of his heart. If they were not so realistic, he knew he would be able to deal with them better.
Careful so as not to draw attention, Andrew sat up in bed and ran his hands over his face. Breathe, he reminded himself. Fight the anxiety, fight the panic and focus on your breathing. In and out. Now one and two and three and four. He went through the motions for several minutes, conjuring up the one image that always seemed to calm him.
Jamie.
Perhaps it was because she was the last friendly face he had seen, or maybe it was because he had felt so connected to her in that brief meeting, he was not sure. All he knew was that her face did more to ease the pain than any other. Her round, brown eyes dancing in the dim light and her full, pink lips spreading wide to reveal even white teeth slowly took the dream away. He went over the events of that evening again, remembering their conversation, almost every word, until he was able to lie back down.
Sending a silent thank you to the charming and lovely young woman from that evening, Andrew closed his eyes and then sent another, thanking her for not knowing what had happened to him. He needed her vision of him to be laughing, not looking at him with fear and disgust. The shame was nearly unbearable.
He wondered what she was doing at that moment, if she was laughing the way she had for him that night. He wondered if she was happy still.
Sighing at the cruel twist of fate that had him stuck with only his dreams, Andrew closed his eyes. It would be another long night, he thought dismally.
How much more could he take?
Chapter 2
Another two months passed before Jamie began to feel as though she was human again. Two months before she found a new routine and stopped thinking about Clay on a daily basis. Divorce was a difficult and trying time, and though she and Clay had not found the raging success they had dreamed of at that point in their relationship, splitting everything equally was a long and hard battle. However, all of that was past her now, and she was re-established back in her hometown with a new job. Her bills were paid, and she had a large enough cushion to purchase her own home. She had plans, though she listened to Ford when he warned her to hold off for rock bottom housing prices. It was coming, he advised. His own business had slowed tremendously, and seeing the stress on his face on the rare occasions she joined his family in the big house was enough to make her believe what he said.
Though the guest quarters were small, she was more content to stay as long as she could. Having her family so close did end up being helpful, and she had everything she needed right at her fingertips. Though Ford had refused, she insisted on paying him a small amount monthly to reimburse him for utilities. With holiday bills to pay and his business not doing so well, she hoped her little bit helped.
Christmas dinner had been the most relaxed meal she had enjoyed in ages. Her entire family was there, minus Clay, and they all enjoyed the casual repartee that had gone missing when her ex-husband was in the picture. Over the last few years, instead of laughing and enjoying their meals, all or most of her brothers had spent the time glaring across the table at Clay. He had never felt welcome with her family, and those family dinners over holidays had been a trial for all of them. Though Clay had tried his best to remain positive, Jamie knew that he resented their trips home and her to a certain extent for forcing him to go along.
Now Clay was gone, most likely celebrating the holidays with his family in California. A twinge of nostalgia gripped her briefly for she remembered Clay’s mother and step-father affectionately. They were good people, even if their son had gotten caught up in situations that had ruined their marriage. She had to remind herself that although she enjoyed them that part of her life was now over. She had not spoken to Clay since they had met in court to sign the divorce papers, and she preferred it that way. Actually, she needed it that way for now.
Strolling into the kitchen with the last of the dirty dishes perched precariously between his hands, Ian placed them on the counter where Ford’s wife Isabel and Jamie labored away at cleaning and wrapping the leftovers. As he set them down, he let out a loud belch and smiled appreciatively at them both.
“Really, Ian?” Jamie snapped. “That was gross.”
“No, that was awesome,” he responded with a satisfied smile.
“Ian, if you cannot behave in my kitchen - get out,” Isabel grumbled.
“Ouch ladies, you wound me.” He grimaced at Jamie and their sister-in-law. “That was a sign of contentment and compliments to the chef. A good meal always produces a good burp.”
“Muffled under one’s hand,” Isabel advised.
“With a resulting ‘excuse me’,” Jamie added.
“Wow ladies, I know where I’m not wanted,” Ian whined.
“That’s right. Go join Ford and Ana in the game room. They’re just setting up a new game of pool now.”
“A new table for Christmas? Love it.”
With as much nonchalance as he had entered the kitchen with, he sauntered off, leaving Jamie to finish loading the dishwasher. Once it was full, she turned the cycle on and leaned against the counter, glancing around with satisfaction. “Well, we did it.”
“Yes we did, Jaimita. Now go relax with everyone else. I’ll be out soon.”
What Jamie wanted to do at that moment was sit back and put her feet up. After everyone had opened their presents, she and Isabel had spent the entire morning in the kitchen preparing the meal for the twelve of them. A long but glorious day and she was ready to relax with a nice glass of wine. Reaching for the last of the red, she poured what remained into her and Isabel’s glasses.
She held hers out. “To a successful Christmas celebration.”
“I’ll second that.”
Their glasses clinked and both women took a sip. “I guess I’ll go see what Grady and Hayden are up to.”
“I think they’re watching television,” Isabel said over her shoulder.
Jamie grasped her wine glass and slipped from the room, wandering through the spacious interior that sported the wear and tear of a large Christmas celebration. Though not her home, she felt safe and welcome within these walls. Without her family’s support, she was not sure she would have made it through the last months with her sanity still intact.
With Clay calling her nightly and begging her to come home when she first moved out, Jamie had been alone and scared. The fear that she was making a huge mistake and running when she needed to stay had haunted her every night in that small hotel room a few blocks off the strip. She had almost given in and gone back to him three weeks later when Clay showed up at her hotel room high on ecstasy. She had thought that she could nurture him back to her, but then she watched him come down and sink into a depression she never would have imagined possible. The anxiety that gripped him shortly afterwards had him sobbing and threatening her until she finally broke down and called Ian out of fear. All four of her brothers arrived by morning. So even though she felt as though she had lost much, she still had the loyalty and love of her family. For that she felt supremely blessed.
She found Hayden with her two nephews, David and Kyle, hanging out in the media room. At ten, Ford and Grady’s sons thought that Hayden was the best uncle, though Ian’s police officer status came in a close sec
ond. The boys were often trailing after her fun-loving brother, and he was corrupting them every chance he got. Tonight it was with true crime shows.
“I don’t think Torie or Isabel would approve of you showing them these modern day murders,” Jamie said as she plopped down on the recliner next to Grady’s son, Kyle. Reaching out to tousle his hair, she made a stern face at her brother.
“But this is about the girl who was killed in the Valley, Jamie,” David said excitedly.
Jamie went still. “What?”
“Yeah, right when you moved away. Some girl went out partying and was killed when she got home. They did a documentary on the case. Something like, ‘war hero gone nuts’.”
Jamie straightened in her chair, the cold grip of fear like a vice around her heart. She began to rise to leave the room, but suddenly the girl’s face was filling the screen. She froze. Marissa had been right. It was the girl who had made the scene that night. Guilt joined shame and embarrassment, and she sank back into her seat weakly.
Was there anything she could have done to prevent that murder? She was, after all, one of the last people to see the girl alive. She took a deep and shaky breath as the photo faded and the ads began.
“Jamie, what’s wrong?”
Hearing the concern in Kyle’s voice, Hayden sat forward and closed the legs of his recliner with a snap. “Hey Jame, are you okay? You’re white as a ghost.”
Jamie tried to smile. “Of course I’m fine.”
He frowned in answer. “What happened? Did Ford snap at you again?”
“Oh gosh, no. I was in the kitchen with Isabel.”
“Then what’s going on?”
She decided that she must have looked bad, because the concern on Hayden’s face did not waver. “I wasn’t expecting to see this on the television.”
“This? You mean the girl who died?” He shook his head in confusion.
“Yes.”
“But you weren’t here when it happened.”
“Actually I was… I was there that night,” she said softly.
She watched as the atmosphere in the room changed. In a reaction so similar to hers, Hayden’s face drained of color while her nephews stared in shocked silence. Like twin gaping fish, their mouths fell open as their ten-year-old imaginations ran wild. Suddenly she felt very exposed.
Hayden reached out and tugged on David’s arm. “Scoot over to my seat, Squirt. I want to sit next to Jamie.”
“But I want to hear this,” he complained.
Hayden gave him a threatening stare, and David sighed dramatically. However, he did come to his feet and they swapped spots.
“Tell me,” Hayden ordered.
“There’s nothing really to tell. I saw the girl while I was out with Marissa and Rae. She almost puked all over me, but this guy pulled me out of the way.”
“Why haven’t you ever said anything?”
“Clay and I left the next day, and I didn’t hear about the murder until after he was arrested. I didn’t follow the trial or anything; I was too spooked.” She did not add that she was embarrassed and frightened that she had allowed the man to follow her home that night.
Hayden’s eyes were still wide. “Damn, Jamie. That’s just crazy.”
“Quiet! It’s coming back on.”
Jamie’s head swung in the direction of the screen. Ford had installed a complete home theater room, complete with viewing chairs and projection screen. The surround sound system filled the room with the introduction, and the narrator’s voice had replaced those of cheerful women selling mop heads. Jamie and Hayden turned to watch, and when his face appeared it took almost the entire back wall of the room. Jamie’s breathing ceased at the sight of the man who had intrigued and then terrified her for the last three years. There were the deceptively friendly honey eyes and the small, straight nose that led to his strong jaw. It truly was a shame, for he was good looking even in a mug shot. She remembered how those eyes had danced that night, but they were not dancing in the picture at all.
“Andrew,” Jamie whispered.
Without warning the name suddenly popped into her head. Despite the passage of time, she remembered their brief interaction as though it was yesterday. He had been so charming, friendly and gentlemanly to her. That he had turned off that night to go murder another woman seemed so implausible and surrealistic. Things like that just did not happen to everyday people… or so she thought. To her surprise, she decided she wanted to hear more, to learn about the man who had fooled her.
“Andrew? Andrew Sheehan. That’s the guy’s name that did it,” Hayden said.
“I just can’t believe it.”
Both boys sent an irritated hush their way this time, so Hayden reached out and patted her knee. “Let’s talk about it after.”
She sat back and watched, sipping first but then gulping her wine when Hayden left the room during an ad and returned moments later with a new bottle and a second glass. Together the four of them learned about the wild party-girl, who was actually the daughter and sister of a nice family that had settled in Scottsdale back in the early 70s. Kit had grown up in the city and attended NAU, returning home again after graduation. Her blonde friend Molly was interviewed. Jamie remembered her and the man she had hooked up with that night. They had disappeared before Kit had been escorted out. Who had been the man? She had never seen his face full on, but she remembered how intently he had been focused on Molly.
The answer was not quite forthcoming. They segued into the events of the night, all supposition and put together through what evidence they could find since the man convicted of the crime maintained his innocence from the start. Investigators presumed that after Kit was escorted out, she made her way home and apparently had gone to bed. Bouncers at the bar testified that she was seen to have left with the man accused of murdering her. They had found him three days later via the card he had used to pay his bill, and then those very same bouncers picked him out of a lineup and confirmed his appearance on their closed-circuit cameras.
Jamie stiffened. That was not right. Sure they had seen him, but he had left with her.
To her surprise and dismay, the inconsistencies grew throughout the story. Despite the welcoming comfort of the plush leather recliner, Jamie sat forward and watched the program intently, occasionally shaking her head with disbelief. This was just not right. Kit was reported to have been murdered between two and three in the morning. If Kit resided in Gilbert, how could Andrew have stopped following her at two and then driven over twenty miles to Kit’s, broken into her home, and attacked and killed her in less than an hour? The killer had removed all the bedding following the attack, which was never found, so there was no DNA evidence at the scene. However, they had found traces of DNA on Andrew’s shoes from that night. Of course, he had shielded her when Kit threw up. Jamie specifically remembered him staring down at his clothing that night with a mixture of disgust and resignation. It was feasible that the DNA they had found was remaining splatter.
Everything was all wrong. How could she have missed this for so long?
The next segment focused on Andrew’s side of the story – his defense. Suddenly, his lawyer appeared on screen. Feeling a growing sense of panic, Jamie watched in horror as she heard about the missing witness who could verify Andrew’s alibi. They had reported her appearance, advised the investigators of her presence, and told of Andrew following her car home. They even had a general description of her car. Apparently since she had settled her bill with cash, they were unable to confirm her identity, and she was chalked up as a figment of desperation.
However, Andrew still had more evidence on his behalf. He turned in a time stamped receipt from Denny’s restaurant for three in the morning. With her calculations, she concluded that it would have been timed perfectly for his right turn when he left her. The far East Mesa restaurant would have taken him less than 10 minutes to reach, and then with time to be served and eat 3am would have matched up perfectly.
This dramatic piece
of evidence had not been presented due to the eyewitness testimony that placed him leaving with a dark-haired girl with a black jacket right around the time Kit was escorted out. Jamie had worn a black jacket out that night and had put it on right before they left. The closed circuit cameras could not distinguish between her blue top and Kit’s red one when both of them had worn black out the door. She began to feel sick to her stomach, and she placed her glass of wine down in the cup holder on the recliner with a trembling hand.
His trial had lasted eight days. The guilty verdict was returned in just an hour and a half, sending a man who could very well have been innocent off to life in prison. Aware that she was breathing irregularly and on the verge of hyperventilating, she ignored her queasy stomach, lifted her wine glass to her lips and downed it in a single gulp. Hayden watched her in surprise. When she lowered the glass, her eyes were wide.
“This is all wrong,” she whispered. “I don’t think he did this.”
“What? He was convicted. He’s in jail.”
“He couldn’t have done this, don’t you see?”
Hayden shook his head.
She was shaking and felt cold down to her bones. Hayden watched her with concern and curiosity, obviously wondering what on earth could have upset her so.
She shook her head emphatically. “He just couldn’t have done it. I know this…”
“How?” Hayden asked impatiently. “What are you saying?
“I know this because he left with me.”
***
A fire smoldered in the outdoor fireplace. The soft red glow radiated heat against Jamie’s legs as she sat slowly rocking in the cushioned patio rocker. Hayden sat beside her, nursing a beer and sending an occasional worried glance her way. He had disappeared several minutes prior and returned with a blanket, which he draped over her shoulders. But she barely noticed. Her mind was still spinning with the story she had viewed. A mixture of emotions tormented her: guilt, panic, fear, regret and most of all, sorrow. If she was right, this man had been convicted of a heinous crime that he did not commit. Either that or she had been spared from being the victim of a seriously sick individual.
If We Dare to Dream Page 4
