“I’m sorry,” Kay said softly.
“And I hate him.” Her voice was steely, harsh. “I hate him so much.”
“You think he did it?”
Jill’s chin quivered. “Yes, I do. And that’s what we’re going to find out.”
Kay tried to take a silent, deep breath. “I’m here for you. I want to help in any way I can, but I still don’t understand why you asked me to come. How will this help?”
“You don’t understand the kind of man he is. He’s got this horrible, mean side to him. A side that’s out for himself and only himself. It’s what allows him to have this kind of affair without any regard for his family. It’s what makes me think he’s capable of doing what he did. But,” Jill said, glancing at Kay for an unusually long few seconds, “he is also someone else. He can be very charming. Very convincing. I’ve fallen for this side of him so many times.”
A pause in the conversation caused Kay to rethink this. She still had time to back out.
Then Jill continued. “I suspected, you know. That he was having an affair. I questioned him: ‘Where were you? What took you so long?’ But he has this charm. And so often it makes perfect sense. It only makes me look like a paranoid freak of a wife.”
“So, you think me being there is going to help?”
“He knows he can play me. He knows what I want to hear. But he doesn’t know you, so he doesn’t know how to play you.”
“I’m not sure I can be of any help,” Kay said.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Jill replied. “Just be there with me. I need someone by my side.”
It was a small thing to ask, to have someone stand by your side. How could she not? “Okay, sure. I understand.”
For the next five miles, they drove in silence, without even the radio on. The only sound in the car was the cold north wind vibrating against the windows. Jill looked lost in her thoughts, and Kay wondered if she should even be driving.
Then Kay said, “I’ve been reading that Web site.”
Jill glanced at her almost like she’d forgotten she was in the car. “What?”
“That Web site. I’ve been reading it. I think there are some things on there about me.”
Jill smirked. “For sure?”
“No, not for sure. But I’m pretty sure. A former friend…” Kay wondered if she should mention it was the same woman who had the affair with Mike. Maybe later.
Jill’s gaze stayed on the road. “Yeah, well, I know for sure there are things on there about me. Names me. People I thought were my friends.”
“I know. I should stop reading it.”
Jill nodded. “Could make you go insane.”
Kay sighed and stared out the window. “I once said something really bad about someone.” She felt Jill’s attention, but she couldn’t stop looking out the window. “I once had a good friend. She was married to my husband’s best friend. We did everything together. The boys would go do their thing and we’d hang out, talk for hours. But I was always bothered by… the way she dressed.”
“Dressed?”
“Yeah, low-cut blouses. A lot of low-cut blouses. I made a remark one day, offhandedly, to some people who knew her. It got back to her. She never spoke to me again.” Kay bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from coming. “For a long time I blamed her. Thought she should dress differently. But I realize now… I’m the one that judged. My hang-up about how she dressed came from my own past, my own hurts.” A certain heaviness lifted as she spoke. “One sentence changed my whole life. One sentence.”
Jill reached over and took her hand. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”
Kay looked at her. “I’ve even judged you for how you dress. And I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
Jill laughed and squeezed her hand. “I know I dress like I’m eighteen. I guess I just felt Mike pulling away, imagining what pretty woman he was interested in, and I thought if I tried to make myself look younger, I might win his affection back.”
Kay slumped into her seat. “See? A person never knows another’s motivations. How could I sit there and judge you for a tight tank top and not know what you’re going through?”
Jill pulled into the large parking lot of the county jail, parked, and turned to Kay. “It’s okay, my friend. Right now, how I look in a tight tank top is the least of my worries.”
Kay stared at the building. It wasn’t as tall as she’d imagined. They got out of the car and walked through the front doors. An officer behind a large black desk greeted them. They signed their names, emptied their pockets, and were led through several gated corridors until they came to a room with plastic tables and chairs. The floors looked warped and smelled like cheap Pine-Sol. One yellow sign alerted them to the wetness on the floor. They both stepped carefully toward the nearest table.
They huddled together on the far side of the room so they faced the door, their knees bumping each other with any small movement.
Kay glanced around, noticing the cameras and monitors. “I’m nervous.”
“Me too.”
“How’s Natalie handling all this?” Kay asked, hoping to take her mind off the idea that she might very soon be staring into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer.
Jill shrugged. “Okay, I guess. She doesn’t talk about it much. Hates school. I don’t blame her. I don’t know how to help her.”
The sound of a large metal door opening, then shutting, caused the women to sit up straighter. Kay could hardly breathe. She wanted to seem calm and cool, but she was certain she was not looking anything of the sort.
A tall, thin shadow crossed over the hard concrete. But the man who followed the shadow wasn’t tall or thin. He was built much like Damien, with broad shoulders, a wide chest, and decent arm muscles.
Kay had seen his mug shot in the paper. He was clean shaven but looked disheveled in the picture, wild-eyed and scared.
This morning, though, even in an orange jumpsuit, Mike Toledo seemed pulled together as if he were wearing an expensive suit. He sat down with confidence, staring at Jill while acknowledging Kay with a small smile.
“This your lawyer?” he asked, a joking kind of smirk on his lips.
“This is my friend. I asked her to come with me.”
Kay expected protest, but Mike simply regarded Kay with unassuming eyes, as if pondering the reasoning but not questioning it. He then focused on Jill. “I’m glad you came. I wondered when you would.”
“Or if,” Jill said.
“Baby, you don’t think I did this, do you?”
Jill glanced at Kay, who could only widen her eyes with anticipation of the answer. “I don’t know what to think. I know you had an affair. Don’t even try to deny it. The police already told me that much.”
Mike looked down. “I did.”
“How could you? Especially after I forgave you for Cindy.”
“It was a mistake. A terrible mistake.”
Jill paused, pushing a tissue to the bottom of her nose. “I knew you were having an affair. I knew it. I even confronted you.”
“This woman meant nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
“And neither, apparently, did Frank Merret.” Kay knew it came out of her mouth, but it was as if someone else spoke. There was no mistaking it, though. Both Jill and Mike stared at her. She tried to hold his steady, piercing gaze without falter. It was taking every ounce of her courage.
Mike slowly returned his attention back to Jill. “I can’t discuss this. You know I can’t. My lawyer has advised me not to talk at all, to anyone. It only protects you. The less information you have, the better.” He leaned forward, his fingers touching the top of the table lightly. “How’s Natalie?”
“How do you think she is?” Jill’s tone was harsh enough that he pulled his cuffed hands off the table. “You’ve created a nightmare for us. And all you can think about are your legal rights?”
“I’m trying to think of all of us, trying to figure out things. I know this is a mess. But we’ll get through it.”