by Elicia Hyder
They walked back in the house, and Journey stood up.
“We may need you to come down to the station tomorrow to answer some more questions,” Marcus said.
“Sure,” Journey answered.
Journey followed him outside, but Steven stayed at the front door. When they were a few feet away she touched his arm. “Marcus?”
He looked down at her. “Yeah?”
“You need to find her fast,” she said with serious concern.
“Do I need to know anything else?” he asked again.
She shook her head. “No. You know I would tell you. She’s just really messed up.”
Marcus looked back to see Steven fuming under the porch light. Marcus didn’t want her to go back into that house; he seriously contemplated kidnapping her right then. He looked down at her. She didn’t look well. She was too thin and had dark circles under her eyes.
Marcus lowered his voice even more. “Get out of here, please,” he begged. “Go to your parents. Hell, come to my house. Things are about to get bad, hun. I don’t want you in the middle of it.”
She squeezed his arm. “Call me tomorrow,” she said and turned back to the house.
Marcus watched Steven’s angry eyes follow her all the way back to the house. He couldn’t force himself back into his squad car until they went inside and Steven slammed the door. If it hadn’t been for a missing girl, he would’ve sat in the driveway all night just to make sure Steven knew he was watching.
“What did you get?” Curtis asked, snapping him back to reality.
Marcus shook his head and got in the passenger’s seat. “Not much. He said he was at the bar last Friday.”
Curtis nodded. “Girlfriend confirmed it. She said he drove her home in his truck because of the snow.”
Marcus thought for a second. “In his truck," he repeated. Marcus looked at his partner. "When I drove by there that night, Steven's Chevelle was parked at the bar. She said her car was at home.”
Curtis shrugged. “She drove his car to work.”
Marcus shook his head. “She wouldn’t dare.”
· · ·
“What did you tell him?” Steven angrily demanded after he slammed the door behind Journey.
Startled, she backed up into the wall away from him. She held up her hands in defense. “Nothing!” she insisted.
He closed the space between them. “Did you tell him that she was coming around looking for drugs?”
She shrank back as far from him as she could and turned her face away from his raised fist. “I swear I didn’t. You know I wouldn’t!"
“Do I?” he shouted so close she could feel his hot breath on her skin.
She was trembling for the first time ever in front of him. His fury radiated off the walls. She took a few slow, deep breaths. “Please calm down,” she whispered.
He slammed his finger into her breast bone. “You don’t talk to the fucking cops. I don’t care if it’s one of your boyfriends or not. You don’t open your damn mouth! Do you understand?”
She flinched. “We haven’t done anything wrong!” she cried.
She was sobbing uncontrollably.
He finally released her arm and grabbed her face desperately instead. “I did it!” he snapped. “I was messing around and swerved toward them as a joke! Your car slid on the ice. I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t hit them, but she went off the fucking road and flipped!” His eyes were wild with panic.
The information slammed into her brain like a freight train. “But… it was an accident,” she stammered.
“But I ran, Journ. I had about eight grams on me and an ounce of weed that I was taking to Julie that night. I fucking ran!” His hands were trembling.
It suddenly registered with Journey: he had been in her car. Someone had described it, and that is why Marcus had called her at work the night of the accident. She had never told Steven that Marcus had called.
“You can’t talk to them, Journey,” he repeated, dropping his head against her shoulder.
“Shhh…” she consoled him, running her fingers through his hair. “Let’s go to bed. We will figure it all out tomorrow.”
· · ·
After a restless night, Journey woke up alone in her bed to the sound of her cell phone ringing. Steven had left for work two hours before, and she was going to be late for her lunch shift if she didn’t get moving soon. She pulled the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Marcus.”
“Hey,” she said.
“Are you OK?” he asked.
Journey groaned and pulled the blue comforter up to block the chill in the room. “Didn’t sleep much, but I’m OK. Have you found Julie?”
“No,” he replied. “They are still searching for her.” He cleared his throat. “I’m having a hard time trying to do my job and protect you at the same time, Journ. You need to get out of that house. A lot of bad shit is getting ready to land on Steven. I don’t want the fallout to be on your head too.”
“Thanks for worrying about me. I’m OK,” she replied. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”
“You can probably expect some visitors today. Just a heads up,” he said.
“Thanks Marcus,” she said and disconnected.
She pulled herself out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, carrying her cell phone in case there was any news. She turned on the shower and pulled off her t-shirt. She paused in front of the sink to brush her teeth, and her reflection in the mirror was startling.
There were five distinct finger markings on the top of her right arm from where Steven had grabbed her the night before and held her against the wall. Her chest tightened, and her knees began to shake. Unstoppable tears spilled down her cheeks, and she melted to the floor.
She reached for her phone and redialed Marcus’s phone number. When he answered, all she could say was “come get me.”
7
Daddy Issues
Journey was still at the police station when they brought Steven in in handcuffs. She was sitting at an empty desk with her fingers curled around a terrible cup of black coffee.
Steven’s eyes found her as he was led into the room. “You fucking bitch,” he hissed. He struggled against his restraints, and she cringed as he lunged in her direction. “I’m going to rip off your head and piss down your throat!” Two more officers jumped to restrain him. He continued to spew obscenities at her as they dragged him down the adjoining hallway.
Marcus walked out of a nearby office and put his hand on her shoulder. “You OK?” he asked.
She was trembling, but she nodded and squeezed his hand.
“Come on,” he said. “The investigators need to talk to you some more.”
Steven was charged with vehicular manslaughter, reckless endangerment, leaving the scene of a crime, obstruction, and making false statements. Marcus had urged Journey to press assault charges also, but she didn’t want to have to spend any more time in court than she already had to.
“You did the right thing,” Marcus had assured her.
She knew that, but it didn’t help calm her nerves as she sat beneath the sour glow of the halogen lights.
The sun was going down outside. “What happens now?” she asked.
Marcus sat down on the edge of the desk in front of her. “He will go before the judge in the morning to have his bond set. He will probably bond out in the next couple of days and wait for trial.”
The information made her spine tingle.
“You can’t go back to your house,” he said.
She already knew that. Her eyes stung with impending tears. “Where am I supposed to go?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “You’re going to be pissed off.”
She stared blankly at him.
He nodded behind her, and she turned to see her parents in another room talking to the police chief.
She sank down further in her chair. “What the hell, Marcus?” she groaned.
He leaned toward her. “They’re worri
ed about you. We’re all worried as hell about you.” He put both hands on her shoulders. “It’s only temporary. I just need to put you somewhere safe till we see what Steven is going to do.”
“You’re worried he might come after me?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s facing a lot of time. And especially until we find out what happened to Julie…” His voice trailed off.
“Do you think he might have killed her?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not really, but I want to be cautious until we know for sure. She could positively I.D. him as driving your car, and while I don’t think he killed her, I know even the sanest people do desperate things,” he said. “And there is also his brother to worry about.”
Journey had only met Brian Drake once, and he had left a chilling impression. She knew that Marcus’s concerns were valid. Still, the last place in the world she wanted to be was back under the roof of her parents.
As if reading her mind, Marcus spoke. “You can either go with your family or I will keep you here.”
She scowled at him. “You would put me in jail?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I’ve only got one of you, and I’m done watching you slowly kill yourself.”
She stood and put her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she said. “I hate you right now too, but I love you.”
He ran his hand up through the back of her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. She relaxed for the first time in two days. When he released her, he wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her up. “Let’s do this,” he said.
When they entered the room with the police chief, Carol immediately ran to embrace her daughter. Journey stood awkwardly with her hands at her sides. Her mother had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and red. Randall, whom she could see over her tiny mother’s shoulder, was rigid and cold. He didn’t even look at her. Instead, he reached his hand toward Marcus. “Good work, son,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Durant,” Marcus replied.
The chief slapped Marcus on the back. “The new kid is making a name for himself quickly around here. We’re all very proud of him.”
Marcus laughed and shook his head. “I can’t take credit for this one. Journey walked in this morning and closed the case. Not me.”
Journey’s mother examined her face. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “We brought you a chicken sandwich.”
“Thanks,” Journey mumbled accepting the bag of fast food.
She felt Marcus’s hand at the small of her back. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow and take you to get your car and your things.”
She turned to look at him and nodded her head. She was so exhausted she could hardly stand. “Thank you,” she said.
He winked a sky blue eye at her, and she smiled remembering the crazy green contacts that she had finally convinced him to stop wearing.
The drive home was painfully silent. She sat in the backseat of her parents’ Cadillac with her head resting against the ice cold window. Christmas lights streaked in a blur as they drove past all of the decorated houses.
Unsuccessfully, she tried to remember the date. Christmas could only be a few days away. She and Steven hadn’t even put up a tree.
Less than twenty-four hours before, she had been freezing him with her feet, and suddenly she was on her way to the last place on Earth she wanted to be.
Her sister’s car was in the driveway when they pulled up in front of the Durant house. Journey hadn’t been home since she had left six months before. A Christmas tree was lit up in the front window. Elena stood at the door, and Journey’s heart leapt at the sight of her. Journey had barely talked to her big sister since her exodus from the family earlier that year.
Elena rushed to embrace her. “Thank God, you’re safe.” Her sister sighed. “You look like hell.”
Journey smiled and ran her fingers through her hair which had been dried by the cold winter air that morning. “I’ve had a rough day,” she said.
“I’ll bet,” Elena agreed.
They went inside, and Journey gave her mother and sister the condensed version of the week’s events. Her father was absent for most of the evening. Journey assumed he was busying himself with work that didn’t need to be done in an effort to avoid talking to her.
Much to her surprise, there were no lectures, looks of disgust, or I-told-you-so’s through the course of the night. Before retreating to her bedroom, her mother paused and kissed Journey on the top of the head. She told her how much she loved her and how thankful she was that Journey was home.
Once Carol had gone to bed and Journey was alone with her sister, Elena slid close to her on the sofa. “Be patient with Dad. He’s processing through all of this the best he can.”
“He hasn’t even acknowledged that I exist,” Journey pointed out.
Elena shrugged her shoulders. “This is harder for him than you realize,” she said.
Journey just nodded.
“Where is David with all this going on?” Elena asked, looking around as if she expected to find him hiding in a corner.
Journey’s eyes closed. She rolled her head sideways to look at her sister. “I really don’t have the desire or the energy to get into all that tonight. Can I have a raincheck? I’m so exhausted.”
Elena squeezed her knee. “Sure. Tomorrow, maybe.” She stood up and offered Journey a hand and helped pull her to her feet. “Go get some much-needed rest, sister.”
They embraced.
“I’ve missed you,” Journey said.
“I’ve missed you too, kid. I’m so glad you’re home.”
Journey walked upstairs to what used to be her bedroom and surveyed the empty space. Her heart sank even further as she stood in the emptiness of what used to be her life. In stark contrast to the bare walls and empty closet, her bed was perfectly made. It looked so warm and inviting that her whole body relaxed at just the sight of it.
Her dad’s voice startled her from behind. “I had told myself, when we started hearing of the trouble you were in, that you had made your bed and now you had to lie in it.”
Journey turned to see tears falling down his strong and age-lined face.
He sucked in a quick breath to stifle a whimper. “But tonight, I made your bed,” he said, his bottom lip beginning to tremble. “And I want you to lie in it.”
She had never seen her father cry.
All at once, Journey’s resolve shattered. “Daddy,” she wept and fell into his open arms.
He held her tight and let her cry. He gently stroked her hair and rubbed her back. When she finally pulled away, he looked down at her with all the tenderness any father could give. “No matter where you go or what decisions you make… you will always be my little girl.”
She wiped her nose and hugged him again. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”
“I am too,” he said. “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
8
Nothing But The Truth
On Christmas Eve, a team of volunteers found the body of Julie Kennedy less than a mile from her house and partially buried in the snow. She had a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The coroner reported that the .22 caliber bullet lodged in her brain, and she died an excruciating two hours later.
In exchange for her parents’ promise to help her pay for college, Journey checked herself into a thirty day rehab program in Tennessee. When she graduated from the program in February, her parents, Elena, Kara, and Marcus were all there cheering for her. Marcus carried with him the news that Steven Drake had gone before the grand jury, and they decided to let his case go to trial. Steven’s lawyer had advised against taking a plea agreement, and they agreed to wait for a trial date. Journey would have to testify in court. She dreaded it like the end of the human race.
Everyone decided it was best for Journey to spend the spring and summer in Nashville with Elena since Steven was out on bond. She enrolled in a few undergraduate classes which would keep her busy but allow flexibility for her to be in
Georgia for court proceedings. When she wasn’t in class, she worked part-time at a department store. She still enjoyed the party life from time to time, but, like the tattoo on her leg, she realized she had been reborn from the ashes once and had no desire to go up in flames again. She stopped using drugs completely.
On a Friday late in March, Journey walked outside to the smoking section of her small community college and saw Marcus crossing the parking lot. Not caring that she was making a scene, she squealed and took off in a sprint toward him. His face broke into a smile, and he opened his arms. Marcus picked her up and spun her around before returning her feet to the ground.
“What are you doing here?”
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “I was in the neighborhood.”
“Big damn neighborhood,” she said laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
He draped his arm over her shoulders as they walked back to the picnic tables. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“You succeeded,” she said.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded manila envelope and frowned. “I do have some business.” He handed it to her. “It’s a subpoena. The court date is Monday, June 5th.”
She groaned and sank back down on the tabletop. She pulled out the paperwork and looked it over. “How long do you think it will take?” she asked.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “There is no telling,” he replied. “A few days or maybe a few weeks.”
“Ugh.” She let out a puff of air. “At least it will be over, right?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She held up the envelope in her hand. “You didn’t have to bring this to me, did you?”
He smiled. “Technically, you still live with your parents in Georgia so delivering it wasn’t really out of my way.” He winked at her.
She stood and put her arms around his waist. “How long can you stay?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Well, I don’t have to be at work till Monday,” he said.
