Deadly Deceit, page 19
“I saw the blonde bitch coming out of my house, so I drove past. I saw Frankie kiss her goodbye.”
“What did you do after Officer Stone left?” Max asked. So far, she believed everything Marcy was telling them. Nothing about her posture or speech pattern indicated she was being deceitful.
Marcy’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t hungry anymore, so I just went back to work. I spent the rest of the day trying to keep my composure, and wondering about what I would do next. I didn’t really want to divorce Frankie; I love her with everything that I am.”
“That weekend, I was watching a rerun of one of those crime documentaries. It was about a man who killed his wife with a homemade bomb, because she was having an affair. I thought to myself, how stupid can you be to kill your wife? The spouse is always the first suspect!”
“For almost a week, that show was all I could think about. The idea that I could punish Frankie, and all the women she was sleeping with, was incredibly tempting. I started planning it out, just as a hypothetical thing to make me feel better. I honestly didn’t think I would ever actually go through with it. I mean, I was just trying to divert some of the pain and frustration of being cheated on.”
“What changed?” Oakley asked.
“Staci Lawson,” Marcy replied, her nose wrinkling with distaste. “I was working late; we’d just implemented a new filing system, and I needed to have all the files ready for transfer the next morning, and I came back to my desk from the bathroom to find Staci reading my journal.”
“I panicked and asked her what the hell she was doing. She apologized, and said she found it on the floor beside my desk and thought it might belong to a student.” Marcy rolled her eyes and chuckled at the absurdity of Staci’s lie, “I knew it wasn’t on the floor, because I had made sure it was in my desk before I went to the bathroom.”
“I called her on the lie, and she shrugged me off, like she always does. She asked me why I was writing about blowing people up. I lied and said I write short stories as a way to relax, and that what she had read was the plot of my next one.”
“She seemed intrigued by that, and asked me about the kind of things I like to write about. I gave her some generalizations; romances, erotica, fantasy, etcetera, and said that I was trying my hand at crime writing. She told me that I should talk to Joe and Christie’s siblings,” Marcy smiled with genuine affection, “because they are cops and could help me out with the legalities. Like I needed her to remind me that my best friend’s wife is a cop.”
“I took my journal back and told her I would keep that in mind. Just as she was about to leave, she said she knew someone who could help me understand bombs. She gave me the number of this guy she knows, and said that I should call him and set up an interview to ask him questions about whatever I needed to know.”
“Cade Logan?” Oakley asked, for clarification.
Marcy nodded. “At first, I didn’t even give it any thought. But, after three more times of coming home for lunch to find my wife kissing a police officer goodbye, I dug his number out of my purse and gave him a call. I met with him under the guise of research, and he was delighted to tell me everything I needed to know.”
“Why do you think Staci didn’t turn you in before now?” Max asked. She and Oakley had discussed that question several times throughout the day, and when they asked Staci directly, the woman refused to answer.
Marcy’s expression fell. Sadness and guilt crept across her features, dousing the anger that had been swirling in her eyes.
“She was going to,” she admitted, her voice low and thick, “after Monica Jones. I hadn’t planned on killing anyone else, I just want that to be known. None of the other police officers were in any danger. In my journal, I never named the women. I simply referred to them by the day of the week they were with Frankie.”
“After Dallas PD called in support from the other departments, Staci cornered me outside my house. She said she knew I was responsible for the bombings, and that she would go to the police, unless I helped her.”
“Helped her with what?” Max asked.
“She wanted help breaking Joe and Christie up. That woman has had a serious hard-on for Joseph for years. I didn’t want to out my friends, because I knew Staci would go running to her daddy if she found out their secret, but I also knew that even an accusation would have you guys at my door.”
“I explained that they couldn’t be broken up, because they weren’t together. I tried to skirt the truth, but Staci’s relentless fucking questions just kept gnawing at me and gnawing at me, until I just blurted it out. I told her that Joe was married to Christie’s brother, and that Christie was with Joe’s sister.”
Max and Oakley shared a look. Staci had left out the part about the blackmail. “Then what happened?” Oakley asked.
Marcy’s sadness was readily evident in her posture. “She lost her shit. She started raging about how it was bullshit that Joe and Christie were leading people on. I thought she was going to go to her father, but then Jolene’s car blew up. Obviously, I hadn’t done it, so I knew it was her.”
“And you didn’t turn her in, because you knew she would give you up?” Oakley surmised.
Marcy nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks. “If Jo had died, I would have given Staci up, no matter the price I’d have to pay.”
Oakley snapped her folder shut and she and Max gathered their things. “I’m sure Christina and Jolene Preston will be relieved to hear that,” Oakley said sarcastically.
***
“Are you alright?” Agent Dani Prescott asked, glancing cautiously at the two women standing beside her in the observation room.
Neither woman said a word, but Dani didn’t miss the tears cascading down Christina’s red cheeks.
“I, um,” Jolene cleared her throat against the lump that had formed the moment she received the phone call, “I think we need a minute.”
Dani nodded solemnly and stepped out of the room. Jolene sucked in a deep breath and cautiously placed her hand on the small of Christina’s back.
“Baby, are you okay?” she asked softly.
Tears continued to flow down Christina’s cheeks as her eyes stayed locked on Marcy through the one-way glass. The visage of her oldest friend as she sobbed uncontrollably should have made her feel remorse for Marcy’s position.
Instead, Christina felt anger blaze, white-hot, through her. Heat began to surge through her veins, causing the woman to sweat, despite the cool air of the observation room.
“She knew,” Christina said, her words a harsh whisper through clenched teeth, “She knew the whole time that Staci was the person who hurt you, and she didn’t say a word.”
Jolene moved to stand behind her wife, threading her arms around Christina’s waist as she held her close. “I know, Sweetheart,” she murmured against Christina’s hair, “I heard everything she said, and I still can’t believe it. I never imagined Marcy was capable of such heinous acts.”
Christina’s head bowed and her already tense posture stiffened further. “I knew about Frankie,” she confessed.
“You did?” Jolene asked, surprised by the revelation.
Christina nodded. “She confided in me that she’d been having an affair, but she didn’t say with whom. I told her she needed to come clean, tell Marcy everything, and she swore that she would. I had no reason not to believe her.”
“Baby, you can’t blame yourself,” Jolene soothed, “What happened in Marcy and Frankie’s marriage is not your fault. Hell, this isn’t even Frankie’s fault. The only person who holds blame is Marcy.”
“But, if I’d just gone to her with what Frankie told me,” Christina started, only to be interrupted when Jolene turned her around.
“Listen to me, Christina Preston,” Jolene said, her tone firm and her eyes determined, “If I were cheating on you, would you murder the women I was cheating with?”
Christina’s eyes widened, and she shook her head.
“And if you were to have an affair, I would never resort to killing your lover. No sane person would end another person’s life over sex. Divorce, therapy, kickboxing, running; those are all perfectly acceptable paths to take when your partner proves to be unfaithful. Murder is never the answer. What Marcy did is her fault, baby, no one else’s.”
Christina looked over her shoulder at Marcy once more, then up into Jolene’s love-filled eyes. Seeing the devotion and love that she felt for her wife mirrored in Jolene’s eyes was her undoing. Jolene’s arms tightened around her, keeping her steady when Christina’s knees buckled.
Jolene said nothing as she stood there holding her wife. She hugged Christina tightly and turned slightly so that Christina’s view of the interrogation room was obstructed. While Christina’s emotions erupted from her in a deluge of tears, an officer stepped into the interrogation room and led Marcy out.
“Baby, look at me,” Jolene finally said. Christina slowly raised her red-rimmed eyes to her wife’s. Jolene leaned down and brushed her lips gently over Christina’s.
“I know you are hurting right now, honey, and nothing I can say is going to make it better. But, I want you to know that there is nothing legal I won’t do to help you through your feelings.”
Christina smiled wanly at Jolene’s specification of legal. She understood what her wife meant, and she appreciated the truth in Jolene’s words. She returned the kiss appreciatively, her heart feeling just a bit less heavy than it had moments ago.
When the kiss ended, the two women stood silently, staring deeply into one another’s eyes. Jolene brought her hand up to stroke her thumb gently over Christina’s cheek. Christina’s hand came up to cover Jolene’s, and Jolene offered her wife a sheepish smile.
“What is it?” Christina asked, unsure of the reason for Jolene’s sudden embarrassment.
“I know this makes me sound like an incredibly horrible person,” she said, shifting her weight and averting her eyes, “but, one good thing did come out of this whole mess.”
Christina’s eyebrow shot into her hairline. “How do you figure that?” she asked in curiosity.
Jolene shook her head and kicked herself for what she was about to say. “Well, you won’t have to deal with Staci Lawson trying to steal your husband anymore.”
Despite the instant feeling of appall at her wife’s words, Christina tipped her head back and barked out a laugh. “I guess there really is a silver lining to every dark cloud,” she snickered, laying her head on Jolene’s shoulder.
Jolene chuckled along and pulled Christina from the observation room. As they made their way out of the Dallas Police Department, Christina surprised Jolene by not pulling away. Typically, whenever the couple was out and about in Dallas, they refrained from holding one-another.
“Babe,” Jolene inquired, glancing around nervously, “you want me to let you go?”
Christina shook her head and surprised Christina again with a deep, passionate kiss. “You are my wife, Jo,” she said, when the kiss ended, “and I am tired of being afraid that someone might see who I really am. The code of conduct states that I can’t directly confirm that I am a lesbian to students or their families.”
She reached up to cup Jolene’s face, her thumbs stroking both sides of the redhead’s jaw. “Being affectionate with my wife in public is not the same as telling someone that I am a lesbian. If the board wants to say otherwise, they’re going to have a helluva fight on their hands.”
Jolene beamed. If there was one thing about her wife that she could change, it would be Christina’s fear of losing her job because of her sexuality. Hearing the strength break through the timidity, even for a moment, made her swell with pride.
“I love you, Christie,” she said as they made their way to the car, “and if a bomb couldn’t separate us, the school board doesn’t stand a chance.”
Once settled in the car, Christina turned and looked contemplatively at Jolene. “I don’t know if I will ever be able to get over the pain of knowing what Marcy and Staci did,” she lamented, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her jeans, “How does one deal with that?”
Jolene let out a breath and contemplated her answer. Try as she might, her mind just could not form the answers her wife was looking for.
“I don’t know, Baby,” she finally admitted. “This is the first time I’ve ever personally known the person committing such crimes. I honestly don’t know how to cope with it. I think it would be different if it were something like theft or fraud, but murder? This is new territory for me.”
Christina frowned, but didn’t say anything. She slid her hand onto Jolene’s thigh and rode in silence as the woman navigated the car toward their home. Memories of growing up with Marcy at her side swirled through her mind, filling her with an outstanding sense of loss.
Sensing the mood shift, Jolene locked their fingers together and squeezed gently. The couple rode home in silence, readying themselves to give answers to the questions their brother’s were surely going to ask them.
Epilogue
“Christie, hurry up!” Jolene called impatiently from the sitting room, “We’re going to be late!”
“Calm down, honey,” Christina laughed as she emerged from the bathroom fastening an earring, “We aren’t due to be down there for another hour. It’s not going to take us an hour to get down to the lobby.”
Jolene rolled her eyes and moved over to the mirror above the vanity. She fussed with her hair, making sure her mass of unruly curls was secured in the braid. She turned her head this way and that, then reached for her makeup bag.
Time had eased the prominence of the scars that marred Jolene’s face, and with the right amount of makeup, they weren’t even visible. As she dabbed a bit more foundation on a scar near her cheekbone, Christina stepped up behind her and slid her hands up Jolene’s back.
“Honey,” she said softly, “leave it alone. You’re beautiful and our dinner mates aren’t going to care if your scars are visible.”
Jolene sighed and turned to place a kiss on her wife’s perfectly pink lips. “I know, babe,” she said as she pressed her forehead to Christina’s, “I’m just nervous. This whole last year has been crazy, and now that the trials are over and I’m back at work, I’m kind of over reliving it all.”
Christina kissed Jolene softly on the cheek and slipped her arms around her wife’s waist. “I know, baby. Our whole lives were nearly destroyed. But, we made it. You beat the odds and survived a bomb, and being buried under tons of concrete and steel. You survived reliving that ordeal during Staci’s trial, and for all those news stations.”
“You are the strongest woman I know, Jo, and I am so incredibly proud of you. I am proud of who you are, of what you do, and most of all, I am proud to be your wife. Besides,” she added with a playful smile, “this time is different. The woman you’re recounting your story for is drop dead gorgeous.”
Jolene laughed. Christina wasn’t wrong; she and Jolene had agreed to this meeting three months earlier, after the end of Staci Lawson’s attempted murder trial. Jolene had been floored when she’d answered the unknown number, something she rarely did, and heard the one voice she’d never expected to hear coming out of her personal phone.
“That doesn’t actually make it any better, sweetheart,” she said with a quick kiss as she pulled away, “I’m actually more nervous this time around.”
Christina canted her head and studied her favorite redhead as Jolene finished applying her makeup. Jolene had never been a vain woman, nor had she ever been the type of woman who cared what others thought of her appearance. She’d never tried to hide the myriad of freckles that covered her body or cover up the few scars that flawed her milky skin.
But, ever since being inundated with interview requests, Jolene had decided to start wearing the makeup. She didn’t want people to see the reminders of her ordeal; she wanted them to see her.
“Well, come on then,” Christina said, tugging Jolene away from the mirror, “Let’s go down to the bar and have a drink to steady your nerves.
***
“Wow, Jolene,” Erin Wade shook her head in awe, “I can’t even begin to imagine having to go through such an ordeal.”
Jolene had been recounting the events of her life over the last year for over two hours. Dinner had come and gone, as had several glasses of wine.
Alex had gracefully grabbed Christina’s attention and pulled the shorter woman toward the bar when Jolene began to explain Staci Lawson’s reasons for blowing her up. Christina’s anxiety had skyrocketed as Jolene reiterated the story Staci had told in court, and Alex was quick to step in divert Christina’s attention.
Jolene shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. “Honestly, I never imagined I would go through it,” she replied, rolling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, “I mean, I knew it was a possibility when we were sent to Dallas, but I never imagined I would be a target. I didn’t know it at the time, but even if I’d been screaming my sexuality from the rooftops, I still wouldn’t have been a target of the real bomber.”
Erin lifted her glass and finished the last swallow of her wine. Her mind was swirling with the information Jolene had supplied, and the questions she’d wanted to ask were quickly being replaced by others as her brain began formulating plot lines.
“What was it like?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, “Finding out that a well-trusted friend was behind so much death and destruction?”
Jolene’s shoulders slumped, and she cast a glance at the bar where Christina and Alex Wade were deeply engrossed in an academic comparison. She watched as her wife shook her head at something the brunette was saying, then let out a hearty laugh.
Learning of Marcy’s crimes had nearly destroyed Christina and Joseph. Not only was Marcy a colleague; one the pair trusted with their secret for years, she was also Christina’s best friend since childhood.
It had taken months for Christina to get past the all-consuming depression and emotional turmoil that the truth had brought. She’d cried, at the drop of a hat, for weeks after Marcy’s arrest. She’d seen counselors and therapists, talked about her feelings in groups and with her family, and still she couldn’t seem to face the days with any kind of brightness.
