Returning Injury Read online

  “That sounds wonderful.” Rebecca started laughing.

  “What?”

  “I’m just picturing both of us sick hanging over the rail throwing up in the ocean.”

  Jack started laughing. “Could happen. Remember us deep sea fishing?”

  “Yes, that’s why it’s a good idea to lease before we buy. We might hate it.” Rebecca was still giggling.

  “That deep sea fishing boat was small and the diesel smell was awful. I’m hoping to lease a ninety-two foot or bigger with three or more crew. I’ve made a few calls. It should run about forty to forty-five a week plus dockage, fuel and food.” Jack started laughing. “We were both green, remember?”

  “How could I forget! I was so glad to be back on land after that experience.”

  Jack’s phone rang again, and Rebecca’s mind drifted back to memories of Roy.

  Roy ran.

  For just over one year, she heard nothing about him or his case. She only knew that there was a warrant for his arrest and she was scared every day. She feared he was watching her.

  Then Rebecca remembered coming home from work to find a white business envelope in her mailbox. She opened it as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. When she read State versus Roy Smythson, a wave of memories flooded over her and fear returned. She walked into her apartment and remembered everything as if it had happened just a few hours before. As her mind replayed the horror of that night, she began to cry. She didn’t want to go through it all again. She had moved, and moved on with her life. Time had passed. The pain had gone and most of her hearing had returned. Rebecca had put that night behind her. She didn’t want to go to court. She didn’t want to see Roy.

  A simple piece of paper with State versus Roy Smythson was rewinding her life to a place she didn’t want to be. Though that night would never be forgotten, it had been dealt with and gently put behind her. Roy had already had two hearings. His next would be November thirteenth, Friday the thirteenth. If he pled not guilty, Rebecca would be dragged into court, not unlike being dragged into her bedroom on that horrible night so many months ago.

  But before Rebecca could decide what to do, she had to return to the scene of the crime. She had to listen to her 9-1-1 call to remind her of what Roy had done to her soul. Seated in the Fort Collins courthouse in a private room with a tape recorder, she pressed play. What she heard horrified her. She sounded weak, wounded and beaten down. She sounded like a scared child, not a strong woman.

  She vowed she would never be that person again.

  That was when Rebecca knew she had to face this and follow it through to the end. She went to court on Friday the thirteenth. His lawyer was there, but Roy was a no-show. They issued another warrant, and Rebecca plunged back into her state of fear, not knowing if Roy would stalk her again or hurt her.

  Initially, Rebecca stayed very involved with the case. She wanted to fight for her rights and, in doing so, fight for the rights of all women and victims. She wanted to do the right thing and leave her mark along the way, not the dragging marks on the floor from a victim, but strong marks in the law for other women.

  But by the time the law caught up with Roy again, Rebecca was out of the loop. Too much time had passed, and Rebecca had changed. She had a future she was excited about that didn’t include dredging up her past. She didn’t go back to court and didn’t hear another word about Roy—until she and Jack were in New York a month ago.

  Jack and Rebecca were staying in a suite at the Four Seasons in Manhattan. Jack was there on business and Rebecca went along to visit her mother and meet with some clients and potential media contacts. The day before they headed home, Rebecca was in the bathroom when her cell phone rang. She was dancing around to hip-hop on the radio and drying off when Jack told her, “Somebody called you while you were in the shower.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t answer it.”

  “It was probably my mom,” she said as she started putting on her makeup.

  “It’s nice of her to take us out for lunch. What time will she be here?”

  “Around noon.” Rebecca headed to the living room to check her phone and Jack jumped into the shower. There was a message from a number she didn’t recognize. She listened to the message, then slowly set the phone down on the table. Rebecca was stunned. She called the number back and talked to the woman who left the message. After hanging up, Rebecca’s mind raced but she didn’t know what to do, so she stayed sitting on the couch.

  Jack came out of the bedroom. “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember I told you about that guy, Roy? Well, I guess he’ll be released from prison next month and they wanted to warn me.”

  “He went to prison? For how long?”

  “Five years,” Rebecca answered, dazed.

  “Reb, did you tell me everything? That’s a long time.”

  “Yes, I told you everything, but it was a long time ago. I hardly remember that night myself,” Rebecca lied. And she didn’t know if she had told Jack everything. Did she just tell him he stalked her, or did she tell him that he busted her eardrum and bruised her body, face and self-worth? Did she tell him that he said he loved her and wanted to be with her? Did she tell him she feared being raped by him? She didn’t know.

  “Five years is a long time.”

  “I guess while he was on the run, he committed an armed robbery.” She shook her head in disbelief. “And remember he was on the run for a couple years. He probably got more time for that.”

  “No, Rebecca. That’s not what I mean. He deserved ten years or more for what he did to you. I’m just thinking that five years is a long time to sit and plan revenge.”

  “Why would you say that to me?” Rebecca snapped angrily. “You think he’s coming after me?”

  “I’m just saying we have to be careful,” Jack backpedaled. “I’m sure he has better things to do with his life now. He probably got counseling, and he’ll have to check in with a parole officer, right? I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “You know, you are giving me mixed messages! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’m talking about either. I’ve just never been mixed up in anything like this before. I don’t know what to say or do. Should I get you a bodyguard? Should I put a trace on him?”

  Rebecca closed her eyes and took a deep breath herself. “Okay. Sit down and listen to me.” She patted the couch next to her.

  Jack sat down.

  “I am going to write the date of his release on my calendar. I will not worry about it or think about it until then. I want you to do the same. When we get to next month, we will pay attention for a while and if nothing strange happens, then it’s fine. I’m sure I will get a call if he leaves town or skips out on seeing his parole officer. This happened such a long time ago, can we please leave it alone. I’ll remind you about this in a month and then we can worry if we want to, okay? Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  They shook hands, then Jack kissed hers. “I love you and I won’t let anything happen to you,” Jack said.

  “I love you, too. I won’t let anything happen to you either.” She smiled, and they finished getting ready.

  4:50 PM

  On her way home from the Billings airport, she had to drive across the state line back into Wyoming. She drove the long, hilly country roads deep in thought. The mountains were barely visible because of the cloudy weather, and the trees were beginning to change colors. She drove past several pastures filled with horses and a donkey in the mix, the theory being that donkeys hated coyotes and would attack them.

  Rebecca thought about the phone call from Victim Services. The woman had said that Roy would be released from prison in a month, a month that had been up a week and a half ago. Rebecca didn’t want to bother Jack or make him worry. And she didn’t like how he had reacted, so she decided to keep it to herself. It was her problem. The attack
happened long before Jack came into her life. Even though she really didn’t think she had anything to worry about, she knew it would be in the back of her mind for a few months.

  Right after Rebecca’s warning about Roy’s upcoming release from prison, she kept seeing him everywhere. She saw his eyes on the man who made her a vanilla latte at Starbucks. She saw his walk on a man crossing the street in front of her car. She smelled his cologne, Polo, on somebody at the movie theater. She heard his voice from a telemarketer. Although much time had passed, the memory of him was crystal clear, not because she wanted to remember, but because she felt she had to remember. She was more afraid than she wanted to admit, even to herself.

  Rebecca thought about her past with Roy and how it tied in with all of her clients. There was Melody, a public speaker who spoke out on domestic violence; Angie, a writer who covered all women’s issues and violence against women and children; and Angie’s friend, Christy, a photographer who was also moving in the direction of helping women. All of her clients had one thing in common: they were all about improving the lives of women and children. And Rebecca’s PR direction had come about because of what she went through with Roy.

  Rebecca loved representing only women who wanted to make a difference or educate society, and she worked hard for her clients. Though she felt she was doing her part, she wished she could do more.

  Because of her work and knowing how hard it was for some women, Rebecca sometimes felt guilty about her life. Jack helped her realize that as long as she was financially secure, she was able to do more for women and children: she could offer her services for a very reasonable fee and continue to limit her clients to only those who wanted to help and inspire women. “If Oprah lost it all or gave it away, how could she continue helping the way she does?” he asked her.

  Success and money had bought Rebecca many things, but most importantly, security and safety. She thought about Jack’s offer of a bodyguard, which she could have because she could afford it. Money bought her a home with a security system. Money bought her new and reliable cars that didn’t break down on the highway. Money bought new tires when they were needed and a full tank of gas. Money was security. Money was safety.

  Often it was said that women wanted money or men with money, but maybe deep down women just wanted to be safe.

  Rebecca noticed a car coming up from behind approaching her very quickly. She slowed down, thinking it was a cop. The car tailed her. Because of the rain and overcast sky, she couldn’t tell if it was an unmarked police car. She checked her speedometer; she was going just two miles over the limit. She looked back to the road in front of her and noticed the straight, flat road ahead. There were no cars coming; clearly he could pass her. She continued driving, but kept glancing in the side and rearview mirrors. The car stayed on her tail. If she were to hit the brakes, he would hit her for sure. She slowed down a little more and pulled over to the side hoping he would pass her. He didn’t. “If you’re a cop, pull me over! If you’re not, pass me!”

  Suddenly she felt frozen, paralyzed. “Oh, my God! Is it Roy?” she pushed on the gas and the turbo kicked in, the sudden acceleration pressing her body against the seat. She exceeded the speed limit rapidly, but she didn’t care. She wanted to get away from that car. She looked in the mirror again and she could see the headlights receding. In fact, the distance between them expanded so quickly that it appeared he had come to a complete stop right on the highway. She watched the headlights fade.

  When she approached her driveway, she looked for that car or anything out of the ordinary. With no cars in sight, she pulled onto her long driveway. A line of pine trees on the right guided her to her beautiful home. Once she was in the garage with the door closed, she started to laugh at her cowardice. “He is not coming after me; over seven years have passed since he attacked me. I’m sure he has better things to do… more important things on his mind.”

  Rebecca saw her beautiful white Bentley Continental convertible sitting in the center of their almost empty six-car garage. Jack had surprised her with it on her last birthday. A Bentley had always been her dream car—the car she would dream about, but never own. The day Jack bought it for her was the day she realized they were rich. As Rebecca peeked inside the car to admire the tan interior, she still couldn’t believe that it was her car. She started giggling when she thought about the first time Jack drove her car.

  Rebecca had been driving the Bentley for about a week and had all the controls set for herself: the seat position, the heat and air conditioning, even the XM radio was on her favorite station. They were going to take a trip into Denver.

  “You should let me drive.”

  “No, it’s my car,” she said.

  “… because the traffic… I’ll have a headache if you drive.”

  Rebecca started laughing. “Fine.”

  They got inside and when Jack shut the driver’s door, the seat started to move forward. He yelled, “Stop it! Stop it!”

  Rebecca laughed hysterically while watching the seat continue to move forward. He was getting closer and closer to the steering wheel.

  “Help! Help me!” Jack acted like he was being attacked by the car. Rebecca kept laughing, offering no help. “You wanted to drive.”

  Still laughing over the memory, Rebecca walked into the house and locked the door behind her, something she and Jack never did. Lily jumped up on her, wanting some loving. Rebecca happily squatted down and gave her some. Lily licked Rebecca’s cheek, danced around in circles and then ran out of the kitchen into the living room to get a toy. Rebecca turned back to the door and set the alarm, another thing she and Jack rarely did. But Rebecca did use the security system at night when Jack was out of town.

  It was Sunday evening. She had the place to herself. She set her bag down on the counter, walked to the wine cellar and picked out a nice bottle of Chardonnay, then chose her favorite glass and set them both down on the counter. Next, she went downstairs to double check all the doors and windows, beginning in their gym. The doors were locked, with each door lock in the horizontal position. She checked the window locks as she walked the perimeter of the house, making sure they were in the lower, locked position.

  Just after Rebecca and Jack returned from New York, Jack had hired a man to come over and check all of the door locks and windows. He tightened a few door knobs, checked all the windows and said everything looked secure. Jack had tried to act like it was just routine maintenance, but Rebecca knew it was because of Roy. Though Jack always appeared to be confident that Roy would not come back for her, he did little things to ensure their safety. His actions only scared her more because she doubted his confidence.

  Rebecca stepped into the bar area where the pool table, dart board and video games waited to be played and checked the door; it was locked. She walked into the family room, and she checked that door as well. As Rebecca checked each door and window, she wondered if Roy would be able to find her if he wanted to. She had moved three times, and she was now married. She also wondered if taking Jack’s last name would have made her safer.

  Rebecca walked back upstairs to the main floor. With each step she took on the curved, dark oak stairway, her fear mounted. The open stairwell from the third floor all the way down to the first showed off the solid planks of wood hanging in the air. When they first got Lily, Rebecca was afraid that she would fall through the stairs. She still worried, but the stairway was beautiful.

  When she and Jack first bought the house, they replaced all the carpeting with deeper, softer carpet. After the housekeeper would leave, Rebecca would run downstairs and make an angel on the freshly vacuumed floor. She’d move her arms and legs as if pushing snow to create the angel. Then she’d carefully get up and jump away from the angel to avoid making footprints in the carpet. She’d run upstairs to the third floor and look all the way down to the first floor where her angel lay. After she told her Dad how she made carpet angels, she received a Christmas card from him that read, “To the best little
angel maker.” She kept the card.

  When Rebecca reached the main floor, she checked the spare bedroom with its doors that led out to a large deck. She hurried into her office to check that door and the windows in the other spare bedrooms. All the doors and windows were locked. Next, she went through the kitchen to double check the garage door and the doors off the breakfast nook that led out to an even larger deck overlooking the mountains. Those, too, were locked.

  She returned to her office and wrote a quick note to herself, “Alarm,” and taped it to the front door. That was the door she used to take Lily outside, and she didn’t want to forget and set off the alarm herself. There were only two alarm controls, one by the garage door and one in their master bedroom. She wondered why there wasn’t an alarm pad by the front door.

  Finally, she checked upstairs: the master bedroom with its separate deck and double doors. Now she felt safe. She was locked in and everybody else was locked out. She changed into sweats and a tank top, then headed back downstairs. As Rebecca walked down the stairs she noticed a few things out of place, and she wanted everything neat and organized during this four days alone. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on work if the house wasn’t in perfect order. Starting in the kitchen, she quickly wiped down the counters after putting their morning coffee cups in the dishwasher. She also threw a load of towels into the washing machine. She skipped over the three spare bedrooms each with its own bathroom. Those doors remained closed so Lily wouldn’t go in and knock the pillows off the beds. Rebecca always told Lily that she got that trait from her father, because Jack didn’t like throw pillows either. Rebecca and Jack spent many nights laughing as Lily would walk up and down the length of their large sectional in the living room knocking every loose pillow off the couch onto the floor.

  Because Jack and Rebecca were tidy people and they had a housekeeper who came every Friday, there really wasn’t much for Rebecca to do. But walking through the house, making sure everything was in order, made her feel better. The only two messy rooms in the house were their offices, and she was fine with that because they always were. But Rebecca’s office wouldn’t be a mess for long.