Real Bad Things(78)
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all your smart ideas and solutions.”
He blew out a long stream of air. “I’ve already told them that Jane lied to protect me, which is the truth. And that I killed Warren and dumped the body.”
“That’s a lie.”
“You’re lying by saying you did it all. What’s the difference? Besides, I can probably gain the support of the public better than you. You’re not exactly a fan favorite.”
“Oh, and you are? You think your adoring fans can save you?” After Tom had escorted Jason to his adjoining cell and locked the door, he had asked Jason to autograph something for his grandsons. Quick as a finger snap, Jason sat straighter, smiled wider. The full charm effect. No wonder they didn’t believe her.
“I’m not trying to grandstand,” Jason said. “And I can’t go home. They believe my confession, whether you like it or not.”
“But why? Why confess now? Or at all?”
“Why did you?”
She paused. “Because I don’t want Jane to go to prison for something she didn’t do.”
“Well, neither do I.”
“But what about me? Were you going to tell them I was involved before I walked into that room? Did I ruin your big plans?”
“No. I wasn’t going to say anything about you.”
“Well, you should have. You should have told the truth. You and Jane. What’s with your need to take credit for something you didn’t do? Never in my life have I met two people more invested in being . . .” She searched for the right word. “Martyrs? Heroes?”
Now he was the one to pause. “You weren’t the only one who lied to Jane.”
“Why did you?”
“Same as you,” he said and paused. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re both here. We both confessed. Self-defense isn’t the issue. What happened to the body is. And I have the background to convince people this is something I would and could do because I fight for a living. People will understand.” He laughed cynically. “Some will probably even love it. The point is, I can get off the easiest of all of us. They’ve made it clear they don’t believe you could’ve done this alone—”
“They said that? They told you all about me?” She’d known nothing of Jason’s confession, yet they’d talked all about hers. Laughing. She was a joke to them. “Why would they believe you over me?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.
“I don’t know, Georgia Lee. But they don’t believe you, okay? Can we agree on that? We’re at a standstill. We have to do this together. It started with us, and it needs to end with us.”
Us. We. He kept using those words.
Everything had gone exactly the worst way possible. All she had wanted was to lift this burden off her soul. Come clean. Now everything was a mess. She cursed the day she’d broken down and cried again after holding off the tears. Now she hovered on the brink of losing it every minute of the day, no matter what the emotion. She wasn’t afraid, though. She was angry that Jason had decided to do the very thing she had done. And on the very day! Worst luck ever.
She didn’t know what weighed on his conscience, but she doubted it weighed as heavy as hers.
She managed to stop the threat of tears, but her voice still cracked. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not right. I’ve already messed up once, and I don’t want to mess up again. I don’t want them coming after anyone else. You’ve all been through enough, especially Jane. It has to stop. You have to go out there and tell them you had nothing to do with this. That you were being nice. And so was Jane. That’s all you’re doing, being nice to me. I did this. I shouldn’t have antagonized Warren. Jane had warned me. We all knew—”
“Fuck warnings and what we knew. You were just a kid. We all were. He was the adult.” Something broke in Jason’s voice. He sounded distant, like he was talking to himself, not her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not to blame for what anyone did to you. You had to protect yourself.”
Tears, dreadful tears. For her, for him. “I’m sorry, Jason. I’m truly, truly sorry.”
The sounds of her trying and failing to trap her emotions filled the space. After she succeeded and silence settled, he said, “I’m sorry they didn’t believe you.”
Tears hovered, but she choked them back. “Thank you. I am strong enough to have carried it out alone, you know.”
A pause. She stared at the white sheet and waited.
“You’re a woman. We all know how emotional you can be.” The sheet fluttered with their sudden bits of laughter. Welcome after all that silence. “But not so emotional you could murder a guy.”
“Of course not,” she said. “Murder is for men, acting on their desires to protect their property, which happens to still include women. You’re the man of the family. You must protect us all.” Laughter felt good. Calming. Leveling. She let it course through her until she had no more laughter to give. “I did it. I bludgeoned him to death. Not you. I’m not backing down on that. That’s what my attorney will say and what your attorney needs to say despite the Maud Police Department’s sexist views on a woman’s physical ability to kill a man.”