“Thank you.”
As I exit her office with the file to photocopy, she calls out, “I’m available anytime you want to go over something. Two heads and all.”
At this point, I’m not even sure I want to go over the file, but my gut is screaming at me to at least get a copy of it so I can read through it.
Maybe not today.
But soon.
When I work up the courage.
Because if this is as bad as I’m beginning to think it could be, it will alter my future in ways I’m sure I can’t even imagine.
I reach for the glass sitting on the table in front of me. Throwing back every last drop of vodka that’s left in it, I scrunch my eyes and then squeeze my eyes shut for a brief moment.
What a day.
It started off great and ended being so fucked-up.
It’s close to midnight and I’ve spent tonight organising Sean’s party and reading over the file Marion had on Jolene. The party turned out to be far easier to put together than I originally thought. But that could be because Marion’s file hovered over me like a dark shadow making the party preparations feel uncomplicated.
I’ve read the file from back to front, two times over. I’ve also spent an hour looking online for any articles I can find. There are a lot. And not one of them portrays Jolene in a light other than a calculating murderer.
The prosecution stated Jolene’s motive was pure revenge for her mother, Penny Spiers, being a bad mother. They claimed she lured her mother to the motel on the night of the murder with the intent of killing her after they had a roaring argument earlier that day. Jolene admitted to the argument but held fast to her denial of murder. She also testified to a hard relationship with her mother. Jolene had trouble refuting anything the prosecution alleged about her relationship with her mother. Her sister, Glenda, also backed the prosecution.
Someone either staying at the motel or someone close by heard an argument that night and called the police. When they arrived, they found Jolene standing over her mother’s body with blood all over her. Jolene swore she received a distressed phone call from her mother asking her to come to the motel, and that was the only reason she was there. Allegedly her mother was dead when she arrived. When they inspected her car, the police found rope that matched the rope used to tie her mother’s hands together.
The police insisted they looked further afield for suspects, but Marion’s notes detail that as far as she could work out, Jolene was their only real suspect. All clues pointed to her. Except for the old man who lived next door to Luke and Jolene at the time. He swore he saw Jolene get into her car that night at the time the coroner declared the murder took place. He was emphatic about this, but the prosecution ripped his testimony apart on the stand, showing that his eyesight was atrocious and there was no way he could be sure it was actually Jolene.
I lean back into my seat as I close the file again. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to push the thoughts swarming in my head to the side. But I can’t.
What if Luke’s wife really is innocent?
What if Sean’s mother really should be home with him rather than rotting in that prison for a crime she didn’t commit?
What if a woman, whose only crime was bitchiness, is sitting alone in a prison cell because the world believes in her non-existent guilt?
I drop my head into my hands. The last thing I want to do is stir things up for Luke, but I know I can’t walk away from this. I need to at least research it some more.
If I were innocent of a crime I’d been convicted of, I’d want someone fighting for me.
28
Callie
“How the fuck did you pull this off?” Luke asks as he moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. Dropping a kiss on my collarbone, he adds, “And how did you know Sean would love a pirate party? I didn’t even know he was into pirates.”
I grin as I survey Sean and his friends walking the plank I set up with a round kiddie swimming pool filled with water and a sturdy piece of wood that we set up across the pool, balanced on each end with buckets. I woke up early and hit the shops to round up all the supplies I needed to make decorations and food for a perfect pirate themed party that any five-year-old boy would love. Thank goodness for Pinterest and all the printable files I found, because there’s no way I could have pulled any of this off without those.
Luckily, the party was scheduled for three o’clock, which meant I had most of the day to get everything ready. We made it just in time.
I place my hands over Luke’s. “I’ve got the skills, dude. I’ve got you and your kid covered.”
He nuzzles my neck and I suck in a breath. Luke’s scent is my favourite in the whole world, and right now, it’s causing all sorts of dirty thoughts in my mind. His lips on my skin are also causing havoc with my senses. This is totally not the right place for me to rip his clothes off, so I move out of his embrace and turn to face him. “You should not do that.”
His lips curl up at the ends. “That’s not what you’re usually begging for.”
I fix a mock glare on him. “Trust me, it’s not what I want to be begging for. You came home so exhausted this morning that I didn’t want to beg for anything then, so you owe me a raincheck for that.”