Broken Marilyns

SECOND CHANCE

SECOND CHANCE

Three days ago, I received a call from a Second Chance representative.  They were interested in Mr. Henley’s case and astounded that I, the sister of the victim, was the one trying to help prove his innocence.

Today one of the investigators working with Second Chance agreed to drive out and meet at the prison with Mr. Henley and me.  I had a bounce in my step as I clacked up the polished concrete steps in my heels.  Sitting at a bench, a lady stood up and greeted me warmly with a smile.  “Ms. Pierce?” the black-haired woman asked through too-white teeth.

“I’m guessing you’re the investigator from Second Chance?”

“Yes, yes.  I recognized you from the profile picture you submitted.  My name is Dianne Finley.”

“I’m so happy to be meeting with you.  Shall we?” I motioned towards the glass doors and Dianne nodded in approval.

Once inside I sped us through the crowd towards the meeting room but before I could reach it, an officer I recognized approached with a grim look on her face.  "Ms. Pierce, you won't be meeting with Mr. Henley today."  Embarrassed, I double-checked my schedule.  "No, Ms. Pierce - you had a scheduled meeting but I'm afraid there was an altercation this morning and Mr. Henley was killed."

"What?  What happened?" I gaped.  All of my hard work had been building up to this moment.  I was on the cusp of exposing a killer.

"Honestly, we're still trying to figure that out.  I'm sorry."

Dianne and I stood there listening to the scuffles of shoes against the floor.  "If it's okay with you, I'd like to continue with the investigation using what we already have and what the prison might give us access to.  I know it's not much but you never know."  I gave Dianne my second and probably last handshake and parted ways with the truth.

After meeting with Mr. Henley and the investigator I was going to visit Julia’s grave to give her the good news.  It didn’t feel right now that my efforts to avenge her had been set back but I went anyway.

Pulling up, I immediately felt an ease I didn't expect to find at a cemetery.  The cherry trees lining the road were in full bloom and shed their tiny petals and over-ripe fruit, their sweet smell following me wherever I walked.

Some of the gravestones were truly remarkable.  I felt like I was roaming an art gallery.  Eventually I found Julia's gravestone.  Standing in front of someone's final resting place felt strange.  This was it - dirt and stone on a quiet plot of land.  This wasn't a riddle or a game; these girls were someone's daughters, sisters, and friends. 

Julia's grave put everything into perspective for me.  There was a young girl in a box beneath my feet that didn't have to be and soon there could be another.  She could have been dancing through life but it was taken from her.  Her death, like my mother’s, didn't make sense, there were too many things being overlooked.  Did she jump off the bridge?  Was she killed?  If she was, could the same person have taken Kelly?  It seemed far-fetched but not impossible.

The flowers on and around Julia's gravestone were either dead or withering away, her death already old news.  Crusted on top of the marble from the passing rain and sun was a single rose. 

            With Julia and Kelly fresh in my mind, I went to work.  I had pieces of information floating around my mind and I wanted to see what it all looked like on paper.  I pulled out a map I’d bought earlier and marked where Julia died, where Kelly was last seen, where some of the Marilyns were from, where they had died, where they lived, I just needed to get the clutter out of my head.

My phone started to ring while I sat on top of my bed in a trance.  Stretching my fingers out, I accidentally pressed answer instead of ignore.  "Shit!" I cussed at my own clumsiness, "hello?" I picked the phone off the mattress.  All I could hear was breathing and shuffling noises.  "Hello?" I repeated myself, was it the strange caller from last week?  I heard the familiar rumble of Jack's voice.  Not a wrong number, a drunk dial, I rolled my eyes and sighed out loud.  "What do you want, Jack?  I'm busy."

"I just want to talk," his voice was crippling.

"Well, talk then," I tried to sound irritated. 

"Can I see you?" my lips began to form the word yes and I had to stop myself. 

"No.  I have to go."

"Wait, why?" Jack whined.  I hung up the phone.

            An hour passed and the phone call from Jack had jarred my thought process.  I meandered through the house, trying to unscramble my brain.  Someone knocked on my door.  Creeping up to the peephole, I was stunned to see Jack there.  Jerking my door open, I didn’t wait for Jack to hand me his bullshit.  "Come in.  You can't stay long but then again that shouldn't be a problem for you," I winked at Jack before plopping down on the couch. 

Wasting no time, Jack sat down and started putting his hands all over me like a sex deprived sailor stumbling in from the sea.  "What the hell are you doing?" I growled while I kicked Jack away from me.  Completely un-phased, Jack toppled over me again like a ton of bricks and I couldn't breathe.  Pulling at my shorts, Jack kissed me harder.  I fought Jack as hard as I could but he didn’t budge.

"Let it happen," Jack whispered with hot breath too harshly in my ear and it was a demand instead of a request.  Before I knew it my underwear was on the floor.  Everything felt wrong - my bare skin being pushed into the thick fabric of the couch, the cold room, Jack's aggressiveness.  The curtains were wide open and I felt exposed to the world.  At first I felt like I was outside of myself, I stopped resisting and let my body go limp.  Jack pushed himself inside of me and I tried to gasp but I couldn't because of his weight on my chest, the movement resurrected me and I was back in my right mind again, hitting and yelling, none of it mattered. 

I hated what was happening but as it did, the more I craved it.  This was a sick obsession.  I hated me, I hated Jack, hated what we were doing.  I was like a sober drug addict relapsing and pushing a needle into my vein.  I had a toxic mixture of emotions and thoughts surging through my brain.  Slapping Jack across his face, he smiled like a mad man and I couldn't stand it anymore, I pushed him onto the floor and crawled on top.  This time I was going to use Jack just as much as he was using me.  When we were finished, Jack began to put his boxers back on but I grabbed him and led him upstairs.  I wouldn’t let him escape this time, not until I’d had my fill.

Panting, I hopped off the bed and headed downstairs to get a glass of water.   I knew I would regret this tomorrow but today I was on top of the world.  I leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment of solitude before heading back upstairs.

When I turned the corner at the top of the stairs, I saw Jack studying something.  Moving closer, I instantly recognized the red scribbles on my map.  "What is this?" Jack started laughing.

"Nothing," I carefully slid the map away from him and folded it up.  "Why are you looking through my stuff?" I leered at Bradley.

"I wasn't.  It was stuck in the covers."  He was right.  I hadn't put my project away before Bradley showed up.  What had he seen?  "Seriously though, what was that map all about?  Do you think if you connect the dots they’ll form 666?" Jack howled.

“It’s time for you to go.”