“Why don’t you tell us your side of the story?” Sara’s voice sounded caring and concerned.
Gena took another deep draw and let the smoke come out slowly. “Because of that girl, in one night I went from having it all to having nothing. She set me up to get drunk with a loser named Dane Olsen, and we slept together. And why not? The man I loved was in bed with that slut Elaine Langley. I’ve always wondered what trick she used to entice him.”
“She made him laugh,” Sara said. “And she was nice to him. She liked him.” Sara’s eyes were like an eagle with a rat in sight.
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t real. That girl went around school wearing the stupidest clothes anyone had ever seen. She looked like a clown.”
Kate started to say something but Jack put his hand over hers.
“Would you tell us more?” Jack sounded interested in what she had to tell.
Gena’s sun-damaged face relaxed into a smile of pure pleasure. “I can’t say I was disappointed when I heard Cheryl was dead. Murdered, wasn’t she?”
“We think so.” Jack showed no emotion, but he gripped Kate’s hand so hard it almost hurt. But then, she needed that to keep from throwing the heavy glass ashtray on the old coffee table at the woman.
“Wonder who else hated her? Besides me, that is.” Gena’s voice showed that she was pleased by it all.
“We’re only interested in you,” Jack said.
Kate wriggled her hand from under his before he broke bones.
“All this—” she wav
ed her hand around “—is due to Cheryl Morris. If she hadn’t interfered, I’d now be Mrs. Jim Pendal and living in a nice house and wearing good clothes. She—”
“What did you do to her?” Sara was trying to conceal her anger. “How did you get her back for what you believed she’d done to you?”
“Heard about that, did you? Who told you? Wait. I bet it was that slut Elaine. What happened to her? Jim ever see through her and dump her?”
“Yes, he did.” Sara didn’t so much as blink at the lie. “He found out the truth about what she was like and left her. He’s now lonely and looking. What did you do?”
Gena leaned back against the old chair and smiled as though her life was going to change for the better. “You may not think it, but I can make myself look good. I just need a little makeup. I’ll get Jim back in no time.” She looked at them as though expecting encouragement, but they said nothing. “The truth is that I’ve wanted to tell this story for twenty years, but I couldn’t. Now that everyone is dead, I guess there’s no reason to keep it secret.” She smiled slowly. “It was a masterful plan and it worked perfectly.”
She lit another cigarette. “I was in the bakery in town and feeling about as low as a person can be. I was supposed to leave for college in just a few days. University of Virginia. Jim and I were going to go there together. But because of what Cheryl Morris had done, Jim had changed schools, changed girlfriends, changed everything. And I was left alone. By myself.”
Her frown changed to a smile. “But then fate took over. I was sitting in that bakery when Roy Wyatt’s oldest kid came in.” She gave Jack an up-and-down look. “You grew up as pretty as your father. But I think you’re soft. Not like him at all.” She said it as though it were a condemnation, a failure on Jack’s part.
“Anyway, I saw you buy a birthday cake. I knew it was for her. You see, several times during that horrible summer I’d driven over there and parked in front of that rattrap of a house of hers and watched. I wondered how she felt at having destroyed a person’s life. I saw a kid—you—go into her house, and I made it my business to see what you two were doing. I couldn’t believe that she was planning for a career where she’d be on TV. She’d ruined my life but she was going to be a star on TV? She was going to have a life of nothing but good?” When Gena took a deep drag, her hand was shaking.
“I broke then. I drove away and cried for days. It was like there was no justice in the world. She got everything and I was to get nothing? That wasn’t right.”
“What did you do?” Jack asked.
She smiled at him. “I drove over to where Roy Wyatt was working on cars. With a whole lot of tears, I told him that I’d seen Cheryl Morris giving his eleven-year-old son a blow job.”
The only sound was the sharp, angry intake of breath, but Gena didn’t seem to notice.
“Of course, I didn’t use those words. I just described the deed to your dad. And I asked him why Cheryl was doing such a thing to a little boy. Was it a cure for some illness?”
Gena was laughing at her own cleverness. “Your dad, for all that he screwed half the women in town, fell for it. He kissed me on the forehead and told me he’d take care of it all.”
Gena stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. “And from what I heard, he did take care of it. What a man he was! He yelled at that bitch Cheryl, then he told old Captain Edison everything. I don’t think he believed Roy, because the sheriff had me personally tell it all over again. I was a great actress. I acted wide-eyed innocent and described pants down around ankles and lipstick and... You get the idea.”
She looked at Sara. “You write those books, don’t you? I oughta tell you my life story, you write it, then we’ll share the money. I bet it’d make millions. I could tell you lots about my second husband.”
Sara’s voice was low. “There’s enough hate in the world. I don’t need to add to it.”
“Oh, well. You’re probably so rich that you don’t need more money. And why help someone else?” Gena paused, waiting to see if Sara would change her mind, but she was silent. “So anyway, I begged the sheriff to keep my name out of it. I told him I’d been traumatized by what I’d seen and I didn’t want anybody to know. He was a nice old man and he said he understood.”