Dead Even (7 page)

Mike stood. “Well, he's wrong. Of course we'll act on it. It will take a few days, though. First the department will have to verify all the information you gave us.” He winked at Audra. “Make sure you're not a nut case sending us on a wild goose chase! We just have to be certain of our facts before we can question him. And your name won't be given out, if that's been bothering you.”

“What happens if I can't identify him as the man, even after I see him? Is the voice identification enough?”

“Probably not. By itself. But our men will go into his background thoroughly. Find out where he was ten years ago, if he has been involved in any other crimes—that sort of thing. If he's your man, chances are he won't have a lily-white past.”

“I—will I have to testify against him in court?”

“Don't worry about that now, Audra. Who knows, you might get lucky and he'll confess, or plead to a lesser charge, that sort of thing. You'd be amazed how many people end up in jail because of confessions, even in cases where they might have gotten off for lack of evidence. But once they think we have them, they start talking and make our job a whole lot easier.”

Audra shook her head. “Something tells me there is going to be nothing
easy
about this whole thing. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a quicksand pit, and if I take one more step, I'll be pulled into the muck and never get out.”

Bess looked at her strangely. “Well, child, you don't
have
to take that step if you don't want to. Maybe Gerald was right. Maybe all this is going to be too hard on you. I'm just a crazy old woman with no book learnin' at all. Just 'cause I thought it would help you to face it, don't make it so.”

Audra reached over and put her arm around Bess, pulling her close. “Now that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say! You know perfectly well you are smarter by half than anyone else I know—regardless of their ‘book learnin'!” She chuckled softly. “You might be able to fool others, Gerald included, with your ‘dumb old woman' routine, but don't try it on me. I know better. And I trust your judgement. You know I do.”

Audra stood and faced Mike, suddenly decisive. “Okay. Let's go to the station and fill out those reports. Quickly, before I lose my nerve.”

*   *   *

That evening, Audra found herself defending her actions.

“I can't believe you actually went through with this crazy notion, Audra,” Gerald said stiffly. “What if the board gets wind of what you're doing? Hell, for all you know, that voice on the radio could be one of the board members—or one of their family—or a priest—or a minister! Why didn't you wait until we had discussed it before actually making out a report?”

“What you mean is, why didn't I wait until you had talked me out of doing anything. Isn't that it, Gerald?”

He was amazed at her accurate assessment, but denied it vehemently. “No! That isn't what I meant. There were several other avenues we could have explored before going to the police. We could have found out who the man was, and let you see him, before going any further. If you recognized him, fine. We could have then gone ahead. But now your name is on record as accusing this person of a heinous crime. If he
isn't
the man, that's bad enough, but what if he
is
the man? How long do you think it will take him to discover your name? What if he comes after you again? Have you given any thought to that?”

Audra sat down quickly on the sofa in her living room, her shaking legs giving way. It had all seemed so easy at the police station. Everyone had been courteous and polite, taking her seriously as nearly as she could tell. Mike had stayed right by her side the entire time. “He—they told me my name would not be given out—not until much later. They are just going to check up on the man—his alibi, if he has a record, that sort of thing.”

Gerald shook his head in disbelief. “But don't you see, Audra? Once they start questioning him, he will know it has to be you! Is there any way he could have found out your name ten years ago?”

“No. I don't think so. My name was kept from the papers, and the hospital was ordered not to give out any information about the crime. My name was never even officially entered on the hospital computers. My father saw to that, personally. When the police told him it would be unsafe for me if the man determined my name, since I could identify him, my father made sure he couldn't reach me through the hospital computers. He—he worked with computers, knew they could be accessed.” Audra's eyes filled with tears as she remembered. “Dad caused quite a ruckus over it, actually. Threatened to sue if my name was entered! One of the girls told me about it after—after his heart attack. She said I was lucky to have a father who cared that much.”

Gerald stopped pacing and sat down beside Audra. “Then all we have to worry about is whether or not this guy can get your name from the police here—if he is the man, which, of course, is questionable. If he
isn't,
we have a whole other set of problems.”

“Like what?”

“Like accusing an innocent person, dragging him through a police investigation, the paper getting hold of it,
that
sort of thing. How long do you think you'll keep your job at William's if this gets out? And have you forgotten we have a wedding in three weeks?”

“No, I haven't
forgotten,
Gerald! This doesn't have to change any of our plans.” Audra hesitated briefly, then decided to get it over with. “And speaking of the wedding, I suppose you know that I want Bess to sit in as my mother. We can give her a rose, along with your mother, and we also need to plan an evening before long so Bess can meet your parents.”

Gerald's silence seemed to fill the room. At last he shook his head, wearily, taking hold of Audra's hands as he spoke. “That isn't a good idea, dear. Bess would feel out of place. I know she would. Can you imagine Bess in a long, formal evening dress? Can you really imagine her walking down the aisle in front of all those people?”
Over my dead body,
Gerald thought.
My mother would have a stroke.
“We'll invite her to the wedding, certainly, but—”

Audra cut him off, pulling her hands away from his. “Well, now that's damn big of you, Gerald! But are you certain you want to even do that? I mean, she might embarrass you by using the wrong fork at dinner. How about if I just ask her to stay away?”

Gerald threw up his arms in disgust. “You don't need to get sarcastic. All I'm asking is that we talk about this. Is that too much to ask?”

Audra stood and walked across the room before speaking. “Actually, there is nothing to talk about, Gerald. My own mother died when I was four years old. Bess is the only mother I have ever known. And if you're too pig-headed to see what she means to me, and what a truly great person she is, then we can just call off this wedding!”

“A great person? Damn it, Audra, Bess Truman is about one step up from a bag lady! That motel of hers is the laughing stock of the town, and she is a joke! You're always bragging that she knows everyone in town—hell, yes, she does—and they all laugh at her! Can you imagine what people would think if you tried to palm her off as your mother at the wedding?”

Audra's face reddened with a new flush of anger. “I don't give a rat's ass what anyone else thinks, Gerald! And anyway, you're wrong! Mike Ramsey told me everyone admires Bess for the good she does. She is always helping someone and—”

“Right,” Gerald interrupted sarcastically. “Is this the same Mike Ramsey who was suspended for drinking on the job? The same Mike Ramsey who the papers called ‘a disgrace to the uniform'? I might have known Bess would pick on someone like him for
expert advice!
”

Audra covered her ears with her hands, unable to cope with listening to him further. “Shut up, Gerald! Just shut the hell up and leave me alone!”

He knelt beside her as tears streamed down her face, gently prying her hands away from her head. “Listen to yourself, Audra,” he said, his voice taking on a distinctively righteous tone. “We have been dating for almost two years, and I've never heard you raise your voice or say a swear word. In the last twenty-four hours, that's all you've done. It isn't like you. Hearing you scream like this only makes me more convinced we should never have started this whole business. What are you going to be like three days from now? A week?”

Audra knew that at least part of what he was saying was true. She had even surprised herself with the anger that was building deep within her. Anger that she had long suppressed. Not just about the attack, but anger at Gerald, and the way he tried to control her. Anger at herself for letting him. Anger at who she had become these last ten years—a timid, frightened, introverted shell of a woman. That man had done more than rape and stab her. He had stolen her soul.

Gerald looked at her, curious, as she dried her eyes and spoke in an even, controlled voice. “Do you know that when I was fifteen, I organized a sit-in at my high school to protest the firing of a teacher because he was gay?”

“What?”

“And do you know that when I was sixteen, I took six friends to a farm that was being used as a puppy mill, and we rescued all of the dogs? My dad had to bail me out of jail for that one. But we got it shut down, and Dad said he was proud to have a daughter with guts enough to take on the injustices of the world.”

“What the devil are you talking about, Audra?”

“Me! I'm talking about
me!
” She looked down at the baggy sweater and pleated skirt she was wearing. “Have I ever told you that I was a cheerleader in high school? Editor of the school paper and president of the senior class?”

“What has that got to do with anyth—”

“It has
everything
to do with who I have become!” Audra stood and strode purposefully into her bedroom. She opened the closet and pulled out a large box, rummaging through it until she found what she was looking for. She returned to Gerald.

“
This
is Audra Delaney,” she said, opening the old yearbook.

Gerald looked at the smiling face of Audra. Her long hair was worn full, flipped back from her face in a Farrah Fawcett style. The photo was in color, and he could tell she was wearing eye makeup and lipstick. The red dress she was wearing was cut low and worn almost off the shoulders. She was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. Beside her picture was a list of activities and awards so lengthy extra space had been allotted. Class president, cheerleader, editor of the newspaper, homecoming queen, track, tennis, science club, spirit club.

Gerald looked up in total amazement. “I had no idea you did so many things.”

Audra flipped through the book and his astonishment grew as he looked at the girl he barely recognized. There was Audra standing on a platform in Wichita at the state track meet, both arms raised triumphantly above her head. The caption read: “Audra Delaney races to victory in four events, setting two new state records.”

Other pages of the yearbook showed Audra being crowned queen, leaping into the air as she led cheers, and cutting up on senior sneak day. Gerald looked at the pictures of the woman he was to marry in three weeks, and realized he did not even know her. The girl in the yearbook bore no resemblance to the Audra he knew. His Audra was soft-spoken, shy, and reserved. There was nothing either shy or reserved about the girl in the pictures. He couldn't have been more surprised if he had discovered her to be a mass murderer.

“I can't believe this is you, Audra,” he finally said.

“Believe it, Gerald! And believe this—” Audra pointed to herself. “
This
Audra Delaney might be willing to set back and let the man who attacked her get away. But—” she pointed to her picture in the yearbook, “
that
Audra Delaney is going after the sorry son of a bitch!”

*   *   *

Mike Ramsey spread the sheets of papers out in front of him. It had taken only two hours to verify Audra's story. The Lawrence police had faxed copies of her files to him, including a brief psychiatric report. He scanned quickly through the pages, then started over again, reading slowly. There was really nothing new. Nothing that would help them. The attack had taken place in January, and the temperature that night had been below freezing. They theorized that at least part of the attack had to have taken place in a vehicle, although Audra, herself, could not verify that.

There was a notation by the detective assigned to her case, that Miss Delaney could not remember anything specific about her assailant, other than he had a deep, gravelly voice. The detective described Audra as deeply traumatized, uncooperative, and highly emotional.
Shit! What did he expect? She was seventeen and had been raped and nearly killed!

The police had been unable to determine anything about the vehicle used to transport Audra to the isolated location. She, herself, could only remember jogging through the parking lot, getting ready for her run. One detective noted he thought it was weird as hell that she couldn't remember one thing about the man, since it was still light out when she had been abducted.
Damned idiot!
Mike reached for his cigarettes, irritation mounting.
Better take a refresher course, asshole! Severe trauma can cause memory loss, in case you've forgotten!

There was a copy of the interview with Audra's roommate, Carrie Wilson. She stated that the two girls had helped with registration all afternoon, then Audra changed into her running suit in the women's restroom. She sent her purse and clothing back to the dorm with Carrie, promising to meet her for dinner at seven. When she had failed to return by nine, Carrie had contacted the dorm mother, who called the police. At eleven-thirty, Carrie had been called to the hospital to see if the girl who was brought in was her friend. She had been accompanied by the dorm mother, who had only taken the position for the second semester, and would not be able to make the identification.