Every man’s eyes fell to the lovely young woman sitting before them now. In a room full of cops, it’s never good to have that much attention at one time, but that is where Jules found herself now. She remembered telling them that Robert Evans had killed her husband, but the rest was a blur, possibly because it had only been about thirty seconds. Still, thirty silent seconds was just too much for her, especially given the present crowd. It felt like she was back in the pool having a competition with that evil neighbor girl across the street to see who could hold their breath the longest. It had been thirty seconds, and Jules was about to explode from the lungs out, but she wouldn’t give in first. There was no way she would let them win.
Eventually, Sheriff Conway cut the silence while Jules gave a silent sigh, glad to see that she wouldn’t break first. “Mrs. Baker, that’s a pretty serious accusation. Do you understand what you’re saying?”
Her silent stare was proof enough, even though it was more indicative of the fact that she still wasn’t entirely sure what she had done.
“Mrs. Baker, we don’t think Rob is to blame for what happened to your husband.” Answering the doubt and fear in her eyes, “…but that doesn’t mean we won’t look into it if you insist. The thing is,” he was about to say something important, when one of the suave gentlemen behind Sheriff Conway gave a low cough, so he changed his mind in the course of speaking, “Rob’s got a pretty solid alibi. One of my own men, well you know Officer Rodriguez, one of my most trusted men is speaking on Mr. Evans’ behalf. And, to be honest, Mrs. Baker, I tend to go with a man like Officer Rodriguez. I’ve known Joe for years.”
She felt stupid. Exposed. Why had she been so quick to jump on Rob? If the police weren’t going to look into him, if they were going to cover for him, why did she open herself up to their ridicule and their wondering eyes? It was stupid of her. It was stupid of her to think it, but it was even more stupid of her to admit thinking it. Even if it was true, there was nothing she could do about it. But she had to try.
“But Sheriff, I know it. He was jealous of my husband, and he hated him. He said things, and he sounded so…crazed. Are you sure it couldn’t be him? Are you sure, Sheriff?”
“Ma’am, it’s still pretty early in the investigation. We can’t be sure of anything. Why don’t you go get some sleep in the chaplain’s office, he never uses it. I’ll send someone for you when your parents arrive, okay?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. You brought me in here to tell me something, and so far I’m the only one who’s said a thing. You must know something, you brought these guys in pretty fast, and Will hasn’t even been dead for seven hours. He’s probably still floating above our heads!”
“Julia, these men are here on another case, something not related to your husband. Don’t worry about them,” the Sheriff tossed out, obviously lying. Jules could see the lie in his grin, trying to appease either himself, the men leering down on him, or the grieving widow who would just as soon slap a cop in his own office.
“Bull…” Her tone and her diction shocking the men in the room. Jules had never been a bold woman, but something about staring at death, yet still breathing, it made her feel stronger. And something about this threat which intended to keep Jules from knowing what killed her husband made her mad.
“She’s gonna find out eventually, boys, we need to tell her,” the Sheriff tossed over his shoulder to the nice men standing at the cork board.
“Sir, you have been ordered. We don’t know if we can trust her, and we need to know what she knows independently before we say a word.” The thought of being ordered in his own office, in his own town, threw Sheriff Conway off the edge, but he regained composure to save face in Mrs. Baker’s eyes.
“You mean, like bringing me into the office where you are conducting a big investigation that probably got my husband killed? Is that your idea of doing things discretely and good investigative techniques?” Again, her boldness pushed the men back a step, and made Sheriff Conway widen his grin. “I don’t know anything, and since my husband is dead because of you, I think I deserve to know something! Don’t you?”
Jules didn’t blame them, but it couldn’t hurt to act like she did. The two men in suits, both somewhat tall with narrow builds and official looking stances, looked at each other, probably communicating telepathically through some government training they had. They were obviously government of some kind, but how she didn’t know. “Mrs. Baker. What we are about to tell you should be guarded with extreme prejudice. You can’t tell your friends, your family, neighbors, whoever.” He paused before looking at the other agent, then back to Mrs. Baker, taking in a big breath, then letting his chest fall before saying a word, knowing well what he risked by speaking at all. The other agent was noticeably against such a rash decision, but it was too late to stop his partner. “We believe your husband was wrapped up in a money laundering racket that ran through the bank where he worked and has been running through Horizon, very covertly, for years. It would seem that some elements of an organized crime family decided that such a small town would be the perfect venue for their operation.” He could tell that Mrs. Baker was about to cry, fearing the worst, that her husband had been a mafia stooge for all these years, when he decided that the last detail may be somewhat important. “But don’t worry, Mrs. Baker, we believe he was only cooperating out of fear, not as a willing benefactor of their indiscretions.” Seeing that it wasn’t enough, he embellished a little more. “Your husband was a good man, Mrs. Baker.”
“Thank you.” She spoke so softly it was barely audible.
The agent who rather not say anything figured it was his turn to be hospitable, and figured that the damage was done, so he knelt down in front of her chair and took up Jules’ hand in his. “Mrs. Baker. I’m Special Agent Walsh. This is Agent Jones. Please, I know this is difficult for you, but you must understand. I’ve been working this case for some time now, and I couldn’t risk anything going wrong. I couldn’t risk all of our work against the men who did this to your husband to go to waste. Please understand that we couldn’t trust you, not yet. We had to be sure you weren’t a knowledgeable partner in all of this. Please, do you understand that we never meant to insult you or vilify your husband or your memory of him?”
She was in fact starting to warm up to Special Agent Walsh, the middle-aged white gentleman who stood before her now. He seemed kind enough, probably was in his 40s or early 50s at the most. He seemed nice enough to Mrs. Baker, but she wasn’t ready to ease up yet. Not after opening herself to some very interesting questions about Rob. It seemed, though, that she would get away without calling forth too much suspicion.
“Then, do you have any leads in the case? Do you have any idea who killed my husband?”
Sheriff Conway, trying to stay tactful, “Are you sure you want to hear this, Julia? These are some pretty gruesome details.”
“I need to know. I…I saw the blood stains on the carpet. I saw you carry his body out of our house. I need to know who did this if it really wasn’t Rob.” And, that was probably stupid of her, too, to bring him up again.
Special Agent Walsh was the one to offer an answer, knowing now that his silence would be a foolish waste. “These groups, they tend to have different assassins at their disposal. They could hire any number of people to do a job like this. After all, one bank manager is hardly a primary target for them.”
“But,” Sheriff Conway added, “we are looking at someone.” It was apparent that the two agents were against this theory and didn’t want to hear it from the fat man, but it seemed he was destined to say it one way or another, especially now that he’d piqued Mrs. Baker’s interest. “We found something in the basement of your house, Mrs. Baker. We aren’t too sure what to make of it, but we found an apron.”
“And it was probably planted by the real killer to make us think it was someone else,” suggested Agent Jones.
“Or it was left by the killer because he was wearing it,” Jules said, obviously leaning more towards the Sheriff’s suggestion. “Isn’t that possible? Was there anything else?”
“It’s nothing Mrs. Baker, it’s nothing. And we’re not ready to say more because we need to be sure we have enough to bring a suspect in.” Special Agent Walsh came in now, offering a little bit of a stern warning to the Sheriff. “We need to play this pretty close to the chest.”
She was still uncertain about trusting these men, but it needed to be done. For now, at least. Jules may have been an obsessive woman, but she wasn’t prepared to begin some crazy, vigilante investigation into her husband’s death. She had to let these men do their job. After all, she would need to be back at the school within a month’s time, and then there would be no time for this panicky worry she held on to. Before too long, Mrs. Baker would have to start thinking about lesson plans and children, lunches and assignments and homework. There was too much coming, so she would just have to let the officials be official and find out who killed her husband.
She didn’t want to trust them. She wanted to question the crap out of them, but what good would it do? Jules felt like there was a suspect. She felt like there was someone out there right now, someone who had killed her husband, and they knew about him. She felt like Will’s murderer was out there and near her, and she wanted to know what they were doing to find him before he got away. And if it really was some big time murder, how long would it take a trained killer like that to get away where they would never find him again? Why were they standing here now arguing about protocol and about who was the bigger man, because really, isn’t that what it all boiled down to? Who held the power in the room? She wanted to question them, but it wasn’t wise. It was time for her to listen and go along with it, not show doubt in these men she plainly had no choice but to trust.
“Why don’t you wait outside, Julia, and I’ll go down with you to, uh, identify the body. Okay? Let me talk with the agents while we wait on your family to arrive. We don’t want you facing this alone. And if you’d like, I can call your friend Rob,” Sheriff Conway asked, before he realized just how dumb he made himself sound, “that is, if you’ve changed your mind about him.”
“That’s a great idea, Sheriff. Mrs. Baker, why don’t we step outside, let you get some fresh air. It’s been a long day for you, and it’s pretty cool out now. That Georgia
She didn’t protest much, either, wanting to leave the stuffed environment that smelled of old paper and male ego. The summer heat, as bad as it was, seemed to penetrate the offices and leave a dusty smell like hay that’s been dried up in a slow burn. And she didn’t make too much protestation about the Sheriff’s fool comment on Rob, sensing that one of the two agents had a second thought now about why she suspected Rob. She didn’t want to look up and make eye contact, so she wasn’t really sure which one stared her down at the present moment. As far as Jules could figure, those men had the ability to stir her soul with a simple glare. Probably more of that government training.
Once outside, Jules looked up at the stars. It was cooler, and it was clear. No sense of the storms that had melted the sky the night before. There was no sense that the sky was about to fall on her, either, like it had just a few hours ago. “How could you let this happen to me, Will? How could you let this happen to me? We were gonna start a family. We were gonna…we were gonna go to Europe . We were gonna, I don’t know, buy a cat.” She laughed for once, in the midst of the tears. They’d talked about buying a cat, but Jules never wanted to. She never wanted a cat, but would give in to Will now. It felt silly to her, talking to a dead man. She felt strange sitting outside talking to a man she would never see again, but somehow, in a way that felt strange and discomforting, she felt like he could hear her.
And if he could hear her, could he see her? And could he know what she had been doing behind his back? Jules worried, afraid that her husband’s first moment in Heaven would be like a “This was your life, and your life sucked,” moment. And wouldn’t that just be the worst, get to Heaven and find out your wife had been sneaking around with another guy the day you died? Somehow, it felt even worse than thinking he’d died because of her.
Which reminded her. Jules felt she needed to call Rob and give him an apology. True, she wasn’t completely sure he was innocent, but that didn’t matter. It was especially important to call him and apologize if he was guilty. Should her last words to a murderer really be telling him that she was going to tell the cops he was guilty? Jules figured it may be prudent to tell him that she realized how wrong she was and she wanted his forgiveness and whatnot.
The phone rang for a few seconds. Jules could see him laying in bed, no shirt, trying to sleep and forget the day. She could see him thinking about her, wondering if the love of his life would ever come to realize that he was innocent. Oddly enough, she could also see him cleaning off a knife from his most recent kill and bathing in the blood of his now defeated nemesis. It got to where she wasn’t sure who would answer the phone when it finally came time to talk to him.
“Hello? Hello?” His second hello came out with that drawn out vowel at the end, indicating both his annoyance and desire to be asleep.
“Hey, baby. It’s me.” It took Jules a minute to say it. She half expected some kind of comeback or lashing out, but all she got was another worried interrogation from her former favorite farmer.
“Are you okay, baby? Have you talked to the police yet?” And then he remembered what she was about to tell the police. “What did you tell them?”
Honesty is always the best policy, but it can sometimes get you killed. “I told them you killed Will.” She let that sink in with the both of them before he spoke.
“Should I be expecting the blue lights outside my window? Are you calling to give me a fair head start?”
“No, they don’t believe me. Apparently you’ve got a solid alibi in the department. You know Joe Rodriguez?”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Joe’s the one I called when I found his body,” Rob trying to avoid using Will’s name around the wife, not sure how sensitive she was to hearing it. “So he stuck up for me, eh? Glad to see someone did.”
“Please, Rob, you know how hard it is for me to think clearly tonight. And you said some pretty scary things today. And you lied to me! But that doesn’t matter. There are these FBI guys up here who say it was some big cover up or whatever. They think Will was in some pretty bad stuff.”
“I’m so sorry, baby, are you gonna be okay? Do you need a place to stay for a few days to make sure you’re safe?”
Honestly, she hadn’t considered herself a target yet, but Rob was right. They may be coming for her next. Maybe staying with Rob wasn’t such a bad idea. “No, baby, I’ll be okay. My parents are headed up here and I can stay with them for a little while. I just…I can’t go back in that house, Rob. I just know I’ll see his face laying there on the floor, surrounded in blood. I can’t do that, Rob. I can’t.”
For the next few minutes, most of their conversation was Jules crying in Rob’s ear with his conciliatory remarks coming out to hers. Jules let out all the anger, and all of the frustration. She let out her pain, and she let out her doubt that the stupid men in stupid suits could do anything to help her. She let out her doubt that anything would ever get better.
When she stopped crying long enough to talk with Rob, she asked him, “Are you coming in tonight?”
“I can if you want me to. Would you like that?”
“No, no, you go back to sleep. You’ve gotta be up in a few hours for work, and I don’t want to throw you off.”
“Jules, I’m coming up there. I already put in for tomorrow off, and they completely understood. One of the guys from the Myrtle City
“Okay. I’ll see you in a little bit, okay? Sheriff Conway said we’re going to go identify the body as soon as my parents arrive, so I may be down there doing that when you get here.” She paused for a minute. Jules had almost forgiven Rob, feeling sure now that he could never be this nice and that monstrous all in the same night, but she still felt that something else was to be said. “Rob. I don’t think you need to go see Will with me. It wouldn’t seem right.”
“I understand. You need to do that with your family. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Bye, baby. I, uh,” Jules stopped, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Jules. I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up with Rob in a less passionate manner this time, not throwing the phone or cursing her luck for loving a killer. About then, Jules smelled smoke. It wasn’t like a forest fire, or like car exhaust, or any of the other expected smoke smells. It was cigarette smoke. It was then that Jules realized someone was standing out back with her. How much had they heard? She didn’t want to turn around and see Special Agent Walsh puffing on a stick, but she half knew that’s who it was. It was time to explain herself.
What Jules found when she turned around was none other than Officer Rodriguez. She let herself relax a little, but not completely. In order to not look suspicious at all, she asked perhaps the most suspicious question she could think to. “How, uh, how much did you hear?”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Baker. I know about you and Rob. I talked to him right before he went to see Will.”
“What do you mean? Why was he going to see Will?”
“Mrs. Baker, I came up on Will and Rob talking in a gas station this morning. They tried hard to keep it civil, but I could tell there was something off between them. Rob was scared, and I’ve never known him to be scared of anyone. Honestly, I would’ve expected it to be him in that box downstairs, not your husband.”
“You thought Will was going to kill Rob?”
“Men do crazy things for the women they love, Mrs. Baker.” He could tell she knew this, and he could tell that she was upset by it. “You’ve been blaming yourself for all of this, haven’t you?”
“Of course I have! Until about thirty seconds ago, I just knew that Will was dead because of me. I just knew that someone had killed my husband because of something I did. And now they tell me it was mobsters and they probably killed Will because he tried to protect me!” She was about to cry, but then she thought more about what Officer Rodriguez had been saying. “Did Will know about me and Rob?”
“Looks like it, Mrs. Baker. I went to talk to your husband at the bank this morning, and it sure seemed like he knew something was going on.” As much as Officer Rodriguez wanted to lie, he couldn’t see how it would benefit her. The truth has a way of coming out, and he knew that Jules needed someone to trust right now.
“I can’t believe it. Will died knowing how dirty I am. Does it make me a bad person to wish that he’d died without knowing?”
“Not at all, Mrs. Baker. I think we all like to think that our loved ones will leave with the best impressions of us.” Officer Rodriguez took himself a moment to speak philosophically with Mrs. Baker, hoping to get her mind off of the death and damage of the day and maybe on something beyond these few short hours. “Sometimes,” he started, thinking back to his own experiences with loss, “we just want to keep this picture in our minds of people as they were, not as they are. And so we imagine that the people we love should have that same image of us as we were and not who we’ve become. And sometimes, Mrs. Baker, just sometimes, it’s easier to live with the good memories of a passed loved one than it is to live with the real person, flaws and failures included. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Joe.”
“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Baker.” The two sat on a bench out behind the station, each one trying their best to feel better. Joe smoked, Jules leaned on Joe’s shoulder, and neither one talked about why. “Besides, if anyone is to blame, it’s me. I tried to follow your husband home this afternoon. You know, I was worried what he was going to do. But I lost him when he pulled over to talk to Jonah Davis by the bridge down town. I wonder if I might have followed him all the way home if I could’ve scared off whoever did this. I wonder if I could’ve caught the guy and kept your husband alive.”
“I don’t blame you, Joe. And I don’t blame myself.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I can’t. I wasn’t there when he came home, and that’s all there is to it. And I may have been off with someone else, but I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him, and that’s all there is to it. But you know what? I want to remember him like he was. Because he was perfect. Once.”
“You know how I recognized your husband this morning at the gas station?” Joe Rodriguez could tell that she wanted to talk about Will now, and he figured the best thing he could do to oblige was to talk about him with her. “It wasn’t the banker’s clothes, and it wasn’t his voice. I’d only seen him a couple times before. It was the eyes.”
Jules looked up at him, a little confused, but ultimately interested.
“Yes, ma’am. He had his sister’s eyes. Those deep blue eyes that just caught you on a glance. I had somehow forgotten them from her. You know I was there the night she was killed. I had forgotten them. But today is the second time I saw those eyes on the dying. Sure he wasn’t hurt, yet. But it was still coming all the same. I imagine that whatever force killed Will Baker was already in motion long before that morning, and I saw into the eyes of a man as he was dying. Just like I saw into the eyes of his sister while she was on the asphalt dying. I guess this is my punishment for not being there to save her life and to keep Ames
The forlorn pair sat out under the stars, each working through their own grieving process in their own way. As she looked up, Jules could see those eyes that Joe was talking about. She could see those eyes, and it amazed her how she never had before. How she had taken the greatest part of her husband for granted. Jules sat back and thought hard about those eyes, still leaning in to Joe’s shoulder. And Jules thought about his song, that sad old Waylon Jennings song he would always hum. And Jules knew that she wasn’t there to forget, and that she never wanted to forget him. She wanted to remember the man she loved, even if he was dead and gone. She wanted to remember him as he was, not as he…
“Mrs. Baker? Mrs. Baker, are you out here?” It was Special Agent Walsh, probably come to collect her for the viewing.
“Yes, I’m here. What is it?”
“Your parents are here, Mrs. Baker. Are you ready to see the body?”
“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Jules got up to go face her husband for the last time. In doing so, she thought about the poor man facing himself and his own ghosts right next to her, the one who helped her forget and remember all at once in a borderline mystical way. She laid a soft hand on his shoulder, just like his wife used to do. He could feel Mrs. Rodriguez in that hand, and grabbed for hers in his way. “Thank you, Joe. You don’t know what you’ve done for me tonight, and it means a lot.” And, to avoid the ears of the agent, she leaned down and whispered to him, “Rob will be here soon. Help him understand.”
She looked down at the man who was in need of his own understanding. In a look, though, he learned what she meant and what she wanted. He gave a nod, and Jules walked on back through the doors with Special Agent Walsh where Sheriff Conway was waiting with her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Robin. Mrs. Robin ran to hold her daughter with tear soaked eyes. They cried, remembering the young man now gone. It would be another day or so, probably, until she would have to have this moment with the Bakers, but for now this was what she really needed. Her dad held on to Jules tight, hating to see his little girl feel a pain like this so young. Her mom cried softly with Jules, comforting her daughter with a mother’s love. The three came together well, just like a family, until Sheriff Conway had to break them up.
“Julia, Mr. and Mrs. Robin, it’s time to go see the body. We need you to identify Will for us, okay?”
Horizon’s newest widow walked first in line, followed closely by her parents with the three officials behind them. The stark hallway ran for about thirty feet with no doors on either side, the entire hallway dedicated to a lover’s last walk. Long off at the far-reaching end, the coroner stood at the door waiting for this caravan to arrive, holding the door open and his head down in respect of Mrs. Baker. She walked over to a drawer marked, “Case No. 462; Baker, Will.” The coroner came over once the Sheriff and the two other men said it was okay. He opened the cold metal door and reached his hand inside to pull on the steel slab where this husked out body lay.
As soon as the wheels started rolling underneath him, Jules closed her eyes. She kept saying to herself, silently through the echoes of her mind, wanting to prepare herself for whatever bruised and broken sight was about to be revealed to her, “As he was, not as he is. As he was, not as he is. As he was, not as he is.” Even while Jules focused on that face she knew from the morning light, the face she loved with the eyes that saw her in love, Jules knew she had to see it. Jules knew that she had to see it for herself, and so she decided it was time to open her eyes and look, once more, into his. She knew it was time to finally accept the last proof that it was in fact true. She had to look into the eyes that finally and decidedly proved to her the inimitable truth that Will Baker is dead.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so sorry that this is coming to y'all a week late. I had a fun week, let me tell you. In the last week, I have moved out of my apartment and back home, I have taken two finals (that is, if you take "the last week" up until last Wednesday), I have helped clean and rearrange the basement at home, and all sorts of craziness. I am hoping to get back on the consistent track, seeing as how this is my second time being a week late on a post. Ugh. Thanks for your patience, and I look forward to your thoughts about this episode. As always, don't be afraid to Tweet me (@42Cobras) or talk to me on Facebook (Adam Wynn). You can also leave comments straight on here, but that's not as much fun, now, is it? Thanks for reading, y'all, and let me know what you think. Tell your friends!
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