TWENTY

You’re An Imposter

 

 

“You ready to go?” Lying with my back to the cell door, I was still trying to figure out how best to pay Jack back for my illegal, immoral, unnecessary, and completely embarrassing incarceration. This man had no limits to his bossy behavior, and as much as I liked him that way, I had to put a foot down.

No more. He can’t tell me what I can and cannot do. We’ll have a talk like the adults we are, and settle this once and for all.

With a game plan in place, I rolled over and gave him my best death glare. He didn’t even have the decency to look just a little bit affected by it. Clearly, I’m going to have to work harder than I thought about getting my dislike for my current situation across. I rolled off the bed, walked over to him, and looked up. He put his hands on his hips and looked down. The stare down began. After about fifteen seconds, I caved.

“You ever lock me up again, I’ll, I’ll…Well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but you better believe it will involve pain.” Eyebrows raised, he shook his head, then grabbed me by the waist and drew me to him.

“Baby, you broke my rules. I told you what would happen if you did; you wanna stay out of this cell, I suggest you start following them.” I pushed at his chest, but of course he didn’t budge. I felt my anger building, and he just stood there in his righteous state of manly know-it-allness. I wanted to scream…so I shrieked at him, and he grinned. I stomped my foot, and he laughed. If I’d had a gun, I would have shot him.

“You done?”

“No.”

“I’m tired and I’m hungry. We’re going out, so are you gonna keep this up, or do I have to gag you and carry you out of here?” Considering I didn’t think he’d lock me up, I wasn’t taking any chances, so I dropped my hands, huffed out a, “Fine,” and he let me go.

Jack grabbed my hand and led me out of lockup, down several halls and toward the front. As we passed the room that housed dispatch, Barry walked out. Stopping to watch us heading in his direction, he shook his head and slapped Jack on the back as we passed, then turned his eyes to me and let me have it.

“You played me last night. I’d have never let you go back to your cabin if I’d known you were stupid enough to run.”

Already pissed-off, his stupid remark opened the floodgates.

“Swear to God, all the men in this town were raised in the 1950s. Think women can’t think for themselves or make decisions. Heaven forbid they think they have a mind of their own! One, I might add, that I’ve used without any of your or your,” I pointed at them both “help up until this week… I’m sick up to here,” I threw my hand up over my head for emphasis, “of the lot of you. I’m going home, and I will shoot the next man who drives up my mountain and knocks on my door.”

And with that, I turned and stomped off down the hall, pushed through the doors, made my way to the lobby and out the front doors. When I got outside, I remembered I didn’t have my Jeep. Well, shit. I turned around and saw Jack heading for the front door, and without thinking twice, I ran toward the side of the building as if my ass were on fire. As I turned the corner, I saw Ben drive down the street. Thank you, God. I jumped off the curb and ran right in front of his truck, throwing my hands out to stop him. He screeched to a halt, and I rounded the truck, jumped in the cab, and shouted:

“Drive!”

“Drive?”

“Yes, drive, now, foot to the pedal, pedal to the metal, D.R.I.V.E…. Now, go, go, go!” Ben looked at me like I was nuts, then, mumbling and grumbling, took his foot off the brake and drove…like the grandpa he was.

As he rounded the corner that took us past the station, I ducked down in the seat so Jack, who was searching for me while walking towards his truck and looking as if he was going to shoot someone, wouldn’t see his escaped prisoner. Ben looked down at me but kept going.

“Take me to my Jeep, Ben.”

“Jenny, he’ll just find you like he did last night.”

“Fine, he’ll find me, but just take me to my Jeep. I’ve been locked up all day; I need some time to myself to think.” Ben gave me the “women” look that all the men in this town had perfected, but he kept driving back to The Bean like I’d asked.

When we got close, I got my keys out of my purse, ready to storm out and then jump into my Jeep. Ben stopped by my bumper and turned to me.

“Jenny, don’t you go off half-cocked like you did last night. Jack can keep you safe. You just need to let him.” I sighed ‘cause he just didn’t get it.

“I’ll remember that, Ben, and for your information, I’m not running. I just need to think, to breathe for a minute. I’m at the end of my rope. I need to decompress without over six feet of testosterone telling me what to do all the time.” Feeling my chance for escape dwindling with each second that ticked by, I kissed him on the cheek and jumped out of the truck.

***

Checking my rear-view mirror all the way into Crested Butte, I decided I didn’t want to go back to my cabin. I wanted to sit down, have a drink and just think. So I pulled onto Elk Street and headed to The Wooden Nickel, one of the original and oldest saloons in the town, and a favorite of mine. It had warm, dark wood walls, a bar that looked original and made you feel like you’d just stepped back in time, and an atmosphere that said “sit down and stay a while.” But what I liked most of all were the friendly bartenders who made you feel welcome, but left you to it if you needed to be alone. I slid up to the bar, and Charlie, one of the regular bartenders, was there. He tipped his head to me and walked over.

“You drinking alone tonight?”

“If I can help it.”

“Bad day?”

“Bad week.”

“Same as usual?”

“That’ll work, thanks Charlie.”

“Honey whiskey, neat, coming up.”

Closing my eyes, I let the sounds of the bar filter through my brain; glasses clinking, soft murmurs coming from the patrons, a jukebox playing in the corner. All sounds of just everyday simple and mundane. I came here for a new life and a little excitement. Hiking, that was my idea of excitement. Maybe horseback riding on the continental divides. If I had to write a list of things to make my life more exciting, I’m pretty sure being the obsession of a deranged killer would not make my top ten. But even as a child I tried to excel, so there you have it: I excelled at one thing…I could now check being the object of a killer’s desire off my bucket list. Guess I’ll drink to that!

“Honey whiskey neat… you want something to eat with that?”

“Yeah, burger and fries, please, Charlie.”

“You got it.” He studied me for a second and was about to say something, so I put up my hand.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure anything you have to say would be worth my time.”

“Ha, you’re funny, but really, even if I wanted to, I’m sworn to secrecy by confidential agreements.”

“Ok, I’ll leave you to it then, but anytime you need an ear, I’m here for you.” I watched Charlie head to the kitchen to place my order.

Did he just flirt with me? He was a nice-looking man, and a little younger than me…Hmmm, maybe I should bring Mandy here and introduce them. I turned back to the large mirror behind the bar and looked at my reflection, not seeing anything that would drive anyone to kill.

“Ok, let’s see if I can wrap my head around all this crap.” There’s a killer, who for some unknown reason is angry, in love, or obsessed with me. My mind wandered to all the men I’d met since arriving in Colorado, and I couldn’t picture any of them being that unstable. The mayor came to mind, and I thought about how arrogant and full of himself he was, but a murderer? It didn’t jive. He was organized, true, but there was an obvious part of his personality that all women with half a brain could see, and I didn’t think a killer like this would be that openly douche baggy. In order to stay undetected, he’d have to hide his obsession, but the mayor let it all hang out. Most serial killers hid in plain sight, so let’s assume he was, in fact, doing just that. Barry was too short; I’d just met Grady; Ben was too old, and Gerry was also too old. Does the man I buy my coffee from even count as someone I know?

“This is so damn frustrating.”

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” Turning to the deep voice sitting two stools away from me, I saw a man with a bright smile and about ten years younger than me.

“NO, sorry, just thinking out loud.”

“Damn, I was hoping your frustration was from not having spoken to me yet.” I laughed at his bad pickup line and stuck my hand out to introduce myself.

“Jennifer Stewart, too old for you.”

“Mark Sanchez, I’m all for cougars who like to prowl.” We both laughed, and Mark scooted over one stool and lifted his drink in a toast.

“A toast to the beauty of age. It comes in all ranges, but who really gives a shit?”

I chuckled and clinked my glass to his. Age wasn’t my problem right now; men were, and they were everywhere these days. Jack, Barry, Ben, the mayor… they were all telling me what to do or trying to point out my misguided ways. I didn’t have time for this flirty man, but Charlie had just put my hamburger in front of me and I was hungry. So I grabbed the ketchup and covered my burger and fries with it, then proceeded to listen to this man flirt and try to convince me how good we could be together…at least for one night.

“Now that I’ve spent the past hour trying to convince you to run away with me, why don’t you tell me what was so frustrating before?”

“Ah, well, that’s complicated. Let’s just say I’ve got too many men in my life and not enough bullets.”

“Ouch, did I just put myself on that list?”

“The minute you said hello,” I laughed. Leaning my head in my hand, I realized I hadn’t actually thought about any of that crap while I’d listened and laughed with this man, so I nudged his shoulder, “You’ve been very good company I’ll admit, so thank you for that. My head was ready to explode, and you actually helped.”

“Ah, here comes the old brush-off already,” Mark chuckled and emptied his glass.

“No, not a brush-off. Just a thank you. I’m not really available to be swept off my feet, anyway.”

“I see…Is it one of these men who’s got a bullet reserved for him?”

“Oh, yeah.” I emptied my own glass and looked around the bar, then back at Mark. I stood and put my hand out to shake his.

“Mark, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but I think home is where I’m headed. Enjoy your stay in Crested and don’t forget to head over to Gunnison like I said.” Mark pulled his wallet out and threw bills on the bar, then stepped back from his stool. “I’m gonna walk you to your car. It's the least I can do after the entertaining conversation.”

“I won’t argue with that. It’s always nice to see gentlemen still exist.” Grabbing my jacket and purse, we headed to the front of “The Nickel”, as locals called the bar, and Mark grabbed the door, opened it, and the cold air hit me.

“Where are you parked?”

“Around back. If we take a shortcut through the alley we can get there quicker.”

“Lead the way, fair maiden.”

“Stopped being a maiden when I had my daughter twenty years ago, just so you know.”

“What were you, ten when you had her? You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Still trying to get in my pants, I see.”

“Is it working?”

“Nope.”

“The other guy’s that good?”

“Nope, he’s better than good. He’s bossy, and, apparently, that does it for me these days.”

We’d made it halfway through the alley when I heard footsteps behind us, so I turned my head for no other reason than I was curious who was there. I saw a figure in a black mask come up behind Mark, raise his hand high and then down, shoving a knife into Mark’s back. Mark arched, tried to pull the knife from his back as I screamed, “Oh, my God!”

The attacker pulled the knife from Mark’s back, and turned toward me, whispering, “He corrupted you. You’re nothing but a whore now, just like the rest.” Knife raised, his intent was clear: gone were his feelings of love, now I was his target. Suddenly, Mark tackled him from behind, sending the knife flying. The killer rolled and threw Mark off his back and stumbled to his feet. I backed up, keeping my eyes on him at the same time looking for anything to use as a weapon. Luck favored me at that moment as I saw a long board next to a dumpster about ten feet away.

Turning my body toward the dumpster, moving swiftly for the board, I saw the killer jerk my direction, babbling on like the madman he was.

“Thought you were like her, innocent and pure,” he hissed out, still whispering. “Thought she had come back from the grave, that God had given me a second chance at love.” He spit on the ground, spittle hanging from his mask. “But you’re no different from the rest, whoring with the sheriff, whoring with this man. You’re not my Annie. I should have killed you for impersonating her instead of killing those women to get your story.” I was near the dumpster when his words stopped me.

“My story?”

“You wanted to be a real reporter, you whined and cried you wanted to get out of working the events page. I gave you that, and you thanked me by being a whore.”

“You’re crazy! Oh, God, this isn’t happening.” My back hit the dumpster as the killer turned and picked up his knife. Mark was lying on the ground, barely moving, his face pale in the dim light of the alley. I reached behind me and searched blindly for the board, at the same time wondering why no one had heard me scream?

Finding the end of the board, I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it up in front of me like a baseball bat, then moved out from the dumpster to keep from getting pinned.

“I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t know how you felt.” My stomach churned at that apology; I was hoping to keep him distracted until someone came along. I remembered my phone in the pocket of my jacket, but couldn’t hold the board without both hands. The killer ignored me and lunged with his knife held high. I swung and connected with his side. He grunted, and I jumped back out of the way of his knife when it came toward me.

“Help me!” I screamed, and took off running back the way we’d come, hoping to reach the end of the alley before the killer could recover. I made it five feet from the end when I was tackled from behind. He pulled my head up and slammed it down on the cobbled stone surface of the alley. Stars sprung to my eyes, but I heard a male voice in front of me shout, “What the fuck?!” and then the killer was gone. I heard his loud footsteps retreating behind me as the man who had shouted ran up to me and put a knee to the ground near my head.

“You okay? Mike, dude, call the police. Some guy just attacked this woman.” I tried to move, so he helped me sit up.

“Call an ambulance, there’s a man in the alley who’s been stabbed in the back.”

“Holy shit, hold on. Mike, call an ambulance, some dude in the alley’s been stabbed.”

I pulled out my phone and handed it to him, unable to clear my vision enough to see.

“Check my call list, find the caller “Bossy,” and hit redial, please.” The Good Samaritan found Jack’s number, and actually snorted when he realized there was, in fact, a caller named “Bossy,” handed the phone to me, and then turned and ran down the alley to Mark.

I braced for the reception I’d get, but was surprised when Jack calmly answered, “You keep this up, and you’ll live in that cell.”

“Jack, the killer—” was all I got out.

“Where are you?” he growled.

“The Nickel in Crested. Jack, he stabbed a man.”

“I’m ten minutes out, be there in five,” he said and ended the call. My head was pounding, but I no longer saw stars, so I got up and headed back down the alley to check on Mark.

Lying in a pool of blood, but breathing, his eyes closed, but they opened when he heard me approach. There were several people gathered around him, so I stopped at his feet.

“You ok?” he grunted through the pain.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

“Was that one of the men you wanted to put a bullet in?”

I cried out a laugh that was thickened with tears and nodded, “Yeah, definitely one I want to put a bullet in.” Kneeling down, I got close to his face.

“You saved my life when you tackled him. I won’t ever forget that,” I whispered in his ear.

“I had to do something to get your attention away from the other men.” I nodded and chuckled at his foolishness, then grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“An ambulance is on the way, you hang in there, ok?” His eyes lifted, and I could feel the energy behind me change.

Mark looked back at me and said, “Is one of your problems a pissed off sheriff?”

“Yeah, is he behind me?”

“Yeah. I have a feeling it’s a good thing I’m already injured.”

Before I could answer him or turn to Jack, an ambulance pulled in the alley, and the techs jumped out and headed to Mark.

Jack grabbed my arms and pulled me up and out of the way, then walked me over to the side.

“Talk to me,” he seethed

“I came for a drink to think, had dinner. Mark—”

“He a friend of yours?”

“No, I just met him—”

“You picked him up in the bar,” he hissed.

“If you’d let me explain, I’d tell you,” I hissed back. Jack crossed his arms, and his pissed-off eyes met mine. He raised one eyebrow and waited.

“As I was saying, I was eating, Mark was eating, we were leaving at the same time, and since it was dark, he offered to walk me to my car. We made it halfway up the alley when the killer attacked, stabbed Mark in the back and then came after me. Mark got up, tackled the killer, and then I backed up, grabbed a board, and when the killer attacked again, I hit him in the ribs and took off running for help.” I didn’t think it was possible, but the whole time I was talking Jack got even more pissed off.

“Did the killer say anything?” he barked. Oh, yeah, he said a lot, and it made me sick to death to repeat it. Jack waited while I gathered my thoughts. Then he got tired of waiting.

“Talk to me, for Christ’s sake.”

“Fine, he called me a whore, said I was impersonating some woman named Annie, and that I should have died instead of those women he killed, for me, I might add, so I could have a story.” Jack looked over my shoulder, studying Mark, then looked back and narrowed his eyes.

“Why’d he call you a whore?”

“Because I slept with you.”

“Sleeping with one man doesn’t make you a whore. Why’d he stab this Mark person?” I paused too long, and he narrowed his eyes even more.

“Fine, you win. Mark was hitting on me all night, and I told him it was a lost cause, that I was too old for him, but that didn’t stop him from being charming and flirty. Clearly, the killer must have seen it, and when Mark walked me to my car, he assumed I was going home with the guy. Are you happy now?”

“Not in the fucking least, but we’ll get to that later. So assuming that’s the killer’s reason for attacking you, he had to have been in “The Nickel”, watching you. I’ll have Barry talk with the staff and see if anyone remembers a man alone with eyes on you and your...” His eyes moved to Mark, who was being moved from the ground to a stretcher, and then came back to me. “…dinner companion we’ll call him.”  Jack’s jaw got tight as he searched my face, looking for what, I didn’t know, but then his eyes stopped at my forehead.

“You hit your head?”

“Killer chased me and tackled me, then he slammed my head into the ground.” Pissed-off Jack morphed into Concerned Jack when he heard this.

“Jesus, what am I going to do with you?” His face softened then, and he grabbed my neck and pulled me forward, kissing my head. He kept his lips there, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. The events of the last hour hit me once his strong arms circled me, and I answered his question while hanging on tight.

“Probably lock me up in a cell,” I whispered in his chest.

“Tried that, and you see how well that worked.”

“Yeah, you should probably just get used to the fact I’m not going to listen to you.”

“Baby, figured that out five minutes after I met you.”

“Then why’d you throw me in a cell?”

“I’m trying to contain you, keep you safe from yourself.”

“I don’t need saving from myself,” I replied with the kind of indignation any woman in my position would have had. Jack searched the heavens for an answer, but not finding one. He looked back at me and let me have it. Swear to God, this man had a speech for everything.

“You need saving from your own innocence… the same innocence that attracted this killer in the first damn place. Men will take advantage; women will take advantage; I intend to take advantage of all that is you. Mandy said you’re a shiny new toy, but she’s wrong. You have a bright light that shines from you and it draws people in. You have no clue how people see you, ‘cause you’ve got your damn head in the clouds and don’t see what’s happening right in front of you.” I was breathing heavy ‘cause all that sounded nice in an insulting sort of way.

“I’m not naïve, Jack,” I whispered.

“Innocent isn’t naïve, Jenn. Innocent means you trust people to do as they say. You give yourself away without expecting anything in return, and you think of others before yourself. Innocent, as in untarnished by this ugly fucking world, and I intend to keep you that way. ‘Cause honest to God, after all the shit I’ve seen in my lifetime, you’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve found. So stop fighting me and let me protect your fucking light.”

I felt my whole body fill up with something I couldn’t put words to. It warmed me in a way that I hadn’t ever felt, like Jack’s words filled something that had always been empty in me. My head hit his chest again, and I nodded. Bossy was getting his way. No way could I pretend that meant anything other than he cared about me and would do anything to keep me safe. And at the end of the day, if someone cared that much and wanted to protect you, you had a responsibility to help them keep their promise. And Jack promised that if I listened to him, he’d keep me safe…So that’s what I’d do. I’d listen to Jack…At least until the killer was caught.