In that moment she had a flash of self preservation. She stood up, got into her car and turned the engine over. It purred, promising to keep the secret she was creating. Jo put the car in “Doom” and stepped on the accelerator. It lurched and bumped, ignoring the carnage under its hulk. She left a dead man on the side of the road.
Arriving home, she found her key stuck in the lock, the wine she slugged tasted bitter, the house seemed to reproach her. The Ambien lodged in her throat as she gulped more water. It would all soon dissolve and it would be behind her; like the carcass of a deer she hit. She repeated this over and over. Maybe she could even learn to believe it. Sleep came thick and troubled.
Jo got up that next morning and moved on with her day, with her life. She found a new way to work to avoid that slick curve on Little York Road. She was much more cautious; about everything.
Paul had no leads on the horrific hit and run. They had some tire tracks , some foot prints and even a partial print on the dead man’s boot but there’d been no hit. Since the driver had smashed the hedge, there was no paint transfer, only a few bent and broken shrub branches. They knew it wasn’t an SUV by the damage done to the body. The tearing had been severe and deep. The man had basically been cut in half. Whoever it was, was flying. This was all the information he could give Carla. She had somehow gotten used to the fact that he’d be gone for many nights: as many as it took to find such an ugly monster. Carla sighed into wine glass. These days, it seemed that her life was full of monsters. She snorted at her “joke” and waited up once more for her husband. Paul sighed after speaking to her and rolled over. "Okay, Baby, where were we?"
She purred and reached eagerly for him. "Right about here..." The lovers giggled. Paul was head over heels for this woman. She was everything he deserved. He didn't want to hurt Carla, but he couldn't resist this beautiful woman who seemed so eager to be with and please him. He was so lost in the scent of another, he hadn't even asked his wife about her day.
Carla’s husband caught a break a few days later. Someone had seen a dark Mercedes on the road on the night of the murder. Mrs. Walker heard a dog barking and had gone to the window. She’d seen the car across the road. It was parked at a funny angle so she’d assumed it was the owner. A woman had been using a flashlight presumably to hunt for the animal. Mrs. Walker had no description really except the woman had a light jacket and blond hair. She’d known it was a Mercedes…like her own car. Paul was ecstatic. He called Carla right away.
As he spoke, she thoughtfully twisted her hair. A picture of Jo came into her mind. She knew the jacket. She’d seen Jo wearing it. Jo drove a blue Mercedes. Jo was blond. Her scalp tingled. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and said it.
“It’s Jo.”
“What?”
“Paul. It’s Jo.”
“You’d better quit it Carla. I won’t nurse your grudge. ” He scolded.
“I know it sounds petty and mean, but it is. Jo travels that road every day. She uses Little York instead of Mulberry because she hates the curves. She can’t stand the blind spots. Paul. Go to the office…no send someone else. Check it.”
He was silent. Good. At least he was thinking about it.
“Gotta scoot Kiddo.”
She smiled. He would do it. She loved him.
Jo had been so wound up that she’d missed the absence of Susan. Maybe Sue had just decided to steer clear after what had happened the other day. She checked with her assistant.
“Susan was here a minute ago, but said she would be out for a few days. She said she wanted to pick up some things.” The secretary said through her gum.
“Is she sick?”
“No, personal tragedy. You know that man that was hit and killed down the way?”
the assistant popped her gum.
Jo could feel her stomach turn sour and hot. “What man?” she almost whispered.
“You didn’t hear? Oh, it’s been all over the news this week! Her father was out looking for their dog. Seems he got to the road and somebody hit him. Killed and they left him there. Right on the side of the road! How could anyone do such a thing?” The gum chewer babbled on for a few more minutes but Jo didn’t hear a word. Her head was swimming. Her mouth felt like it was crammed full of toilet paper. She’d wished it was so she could scream. Without another word, Jo floated to her office and closed the door.
She picked up the phone again and again. Her hands shook as if she suffered DT’s. Her eyes stung with tears. Her fingers couldn’t seem to dial and her voice was lost. She opened her mouth and tried to speak but the words simply wouldn’t come. She spun in her chair and stared outside. Guilt pinched inside her throat and burned in every nerve. “What have I done?” she cried softly into her hands.
She became aware of someone standing in the doorway. Her body sagged as she focused on the officer. She couldn’t move.
“Ms. Saunders?”
She stared at the officer.
“Ms. Saunders?” he asked again.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Yes. Can I help you?” her voice was weak.
“I was wondering if I could ask a few questions.”
“About?”
“Well, there was a hit and run out on Little York Road the other night and it involved a family member of one of your employees. Susan Mirkel?”
“Yes, I heard about that. Tragedy.” Jo wanted to break down. She wanted to scream the truth like the man from "The Tell Tale Heart". She heard her brakes thudding in her mind and shook the noise away.
“Well, do you travel that way?”
“Sometimes.”
“Were you travelling that way last Tuesday?”
“Hmmm. That’s hard to say. I use Mulberry Road and only go Little York if I have to.”
“Really.” The officer stopped writing and looked up.
Jo offered a tiny smile. “Was it something I said?”
“Yes. Mulberry? You drive Mulberry at night? That’s a nasty road. All those curves and hills. My wife won’t go near it especially at night.”
Jo waved her hand dismissively. “I never thought so.”
“That’s not what she said.”
“Pardon?”
“My wife. Carla Erikson? She works here. Well, used to.”
Jo could feel the bile creeping up her throat. She gulped air.
“Your wife?”
“Yes. Now, to stay on track. Would it be all right if we looked at your car?”
“Why?”
“We have a witness who saw a dark Mercedes on the road that night. You drive one of those don’t you?”
“Is that what your wife told you?”
“No Ma’am. The witness. May I take a look?
“No.” her tone was flat.
“Ma’am?”
“It’s in the shop.”
“Oh?” he began to write some more. His mouth twitched. She knew he knew. She should have come clean. She took a breath and stepped forward.
“Yes?”
“Nothing. I just really must be going. I hate to be rude but I have an interview shortly and will need to check on my car.”
“Ah.” He snapped his notebook shut. “I understand. Thank you for your time. Dealer?”
“Pardon?”
“Your car. Did you take it to the dealer?”
“Oh. Well, no, I took it to a mechanic I’ve used for years. Mickey? Over on Chestnut?”
“Yeah. Mickey went to school with him. I’ll let you get to your interview.”
“Thank you.” Jo’s feet were stuck to the carpet. She grinned weakly and waved.
Paul dialed as soon as he left the building.
“Carla?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
"I've gotta go Paul. I've gotta talk to her..."
"Carla, wait...no.."
But she'd clicked off. She swallowed the lump in her throat. God, she’d wanted to be wrong. What was Jo thinking? She picked up the phone to call her and put it down. Better to go to the office. Maybe just to be a sounding board. It probably would be considered harassment but she just had to see Jo once more. She needed to know what happened. She wanted to point out that it would be better to come forward now. In spite of the mistake, she could still salvage herself. Jo wasn’t using good judgment.
