Hostile Witness

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 40

"In a stunning turn of events, Linda Rayburn was indicted for the murder of California State Supreme Court Justice, Fritz Rayburn. She is being held without bail pending her trial. You may recall that her daughter, Hannah Sheraton, pled guilty to the crime but new evidence showed that . . ." ABC News

Josie turned off the ignition. She knew the story by heart. Newspapers, radio, television, there wasn't a reporter in the country who hadn't called her for a comment. She had declined them all.

The sun had come back with a vengeance and October was looking like a record setter. Taking off her baseball cap Josie tossed it in the back seat, slid her sunglasses down her nose and checked out her black eye in the rear-view mirror. It wasn't looking too bad. More green than purple, the bruise should be gone in another week. Her left arm was in a sling but she cheated and opened the door with her left hand anyway. After all, her arm wasn't broken, just a good old-fashioned dislocation.

She took a deep breath and stepped down from the Jeep. It seemed a lifetime ago since she'd been here to meet Hannah. Thanks to Archer she was alive to remember the first time. Surprised by Linda, Josie hadn't hung up the phone just right. When Archer got back from Burt's his answering machine was still recording the sounds of a struggle. He led the charge. He brought the cavalry. Archer wrapped Josie up in his arms and carried her to the ambulance. Not a word was said. What he felt was in his touch, and in his eyes. That was Archer's way. He found Max and got him to the vet. Since then he had nursed them both with such tenderness, in such watchful silence, that Josie wept with gratitude when she was alone. No one had ever treated her as if they were afraid to lose her. But now she was well and Archer had kissed her goodbye, knowing what was being done today had to be done alone.

Josie crossed the parking lot, opened the door to Sybil Brand prison, checked with the officer in charge and waited for Hannah Sheraton to be released.

Ten minutes later, Hannah stood in the doorway and for the hundredth time Josie Baylor-Bates was struck by her beauty. That skin was still the color of milk chocolate; her green eyes were still as clear and bright as an emerald. The only thing that was different was Hannah Sheraton walked toward Josie Baylor-Bates and stopped only twice to step back and begin again.

Hannah smiled softly, sadly. She put out her hand. It was completely healed but still carried the scars of the fire. Josie nodded. She smiled. She touched Hannah's hand and then her hair.

"I think you're going to start a trend."

Hannah's hand went to the tight curls of the new hair that was growing in over her scar. Broken, mended, always a scar. Just like the hula girl plate. The tongue and nose studs were gone. The heavy bandages on her arm were gone. The make-up was gone. Everything about her was bare and fragile as if she was rice paper waiting for the gentle stroke of a brush to define her.

"Maybe," Hannah said shyly. Awkwardly, she pointed to Josie's eye. "You're hurt, too."

"So, I guess we've got something in common," Josie said. She put her hand on Hannah's shoulder. Come on. Let's get out of here."

Together they walked out the door. The prison was behind them, the Jeep in front. Josie rounded to the driver's side. She took her time getting in and winced when she reached in the back for her hat. Hannah stopped her. She was the one who got the baseball cap and put it on Josie. Hannah leaned back and made sure it was straight.

"Okay?" Josie asked, touched by the gesture. Hannah nodded and both of them sat in silence, looking at the prison.

"Josie?"

"Yep."

"I'm sorry for my mom. I'm sorry for everything."

"It's all right."

Josie took the keys from her pocket. But Hannah wouldn't leave it at that.

"I just couldn't tell you what really happened. You understand that, don't you?"

"I don't think I'll ever understand it. I can't imagine giving up my life for anyone, not even my mother," Josie said. She fiddled with the keys, knowing they had to have this conversation but somehow wanting to just skip over it, leave it behind. "If you're asking if I'm upset with you, I'm not. Everybody does what they have to do."

"You're not even mad about what she tried to do to you?" Hannah asked.

Josie twisted, sitting gingerly so she could look Hannah in the eye.

"I'm not exactly happy. In fact, I'm royally ticked off. I've never had anyone try to kill me before. But, Hannah, that's what your mother did and you are not your mother. I'm not my mother. How can I be angry with you for something she did?"

Hannah lowered her lashes, "Because I am her. I lied like my mother lies. If I told you the truth, then you wouldn't be hurt."

"That doesn't make you her, Hannah," Josie assured her. "You stayed quiet because you loved her. Your mom wanted to protect her money and her security. She was willing to gamble with your life and all the while you were protecting hers. There's a big difference."

Hannah's eyes were trained on the low-slung building where she could have possibly spent the rest of her life.

"I don't think she thought of it as gambling. She had a plan, but it just didn't work out the right way and she got scared. You know that snowball thing? First she figured she wouldn't get caught. Then she figured you would get me off. When you wanted to go to trial you just painted her into a corner. You have to understand, my mom has been scared her whole life."

"And you haven't been scared?" Josie asked quietly.

"Not the way she is. I've never been scared like that."

Josie touched the bill of her cap; she tipped her face toward the sun. It was so hot. It felt so good. She wanted to be on Archer's balcony. Instead, she was back in school, rooming with Linda Rayburn. Josie spoke more to herself than to Hannah.

"Your mom used to act like she had the world on a string. I don't know what happened."

"Nothing happened," Hannah answered. "She was always afraid of being alone, of having nothing. She used to curl up in a corner and cry when she didn't have someone to take care of her. I took care of her. That was my job because she gave me life. I would have taken care of her forever." Hannah sniffed. She put her elbow up on the window. "Who'll take care of her in there? Who'll take care of her when she's scared?"

"I don't know, honey," Josie said truthfully.

"I don't think she deserves to go to prison," Hannah whispered. "Not really."

Josie looked toward the prison. They didn't speak. They looked at that place the same way they had watched the stars in Malibu the night Hannah counted only to two. The night Hannah had touched Josie's hand and her heart and her mind. Finally Josie asked the question that seemed so obvious to her but had flown under Hannah's radar.

"Did you deserve to be there?"

Hannah closed her eyes and pulled her bottom lip under her teeth. So like her mother but so much her own, brave woman. Josie didn't wait for a response because it would be a long, long time before Hannah would be honest enough with herself to answer it.

Josie put the key in the ignition and started the car. Hannah opened her eyes. She put on her seat belt and looked straight ahead. Josie wondered if Hannah was well enough to see the future, or was just taking a last look at a place she never wanted to see again.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they turned toward the freeway.

"Haven't got a clue," Josie answered. "Let's try to figure it out at my place."

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