The Many Lives of Jack Wells, page 16
“Eleven years. Hard to believe.”
His eyes landed on the wall above my left shoulder. He had a faraway look, as if thinking back to a time long ago. I was sure that he was remembering his friends and the horrible thing that happened to them.
So I was right. I had been in prison for about a decade. That was the same as last time. I looked down at the table and tried my best not to break down into a blubbering idiot. I was going to be in prison for life. I knew that. And if I didn't do something to help myself, I was going to be executed. I just had no idea what to do about that though.
“So…other than to tell me that you think I didn’t kill them, why exactly are you here?”
Lonnie and I were not friends, so I couldn't fathom why he would come to see me. I knew it wasn’t just to hang out.
“I just want to find out if you know anything. Like who did it?” Lonnie asked me.
“After all these years? Why now?” I asked, genuinely curious as to why it had taken him so long to ask me that.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to make sure that the killer isn’t still living in Red Lake. He could be dangerous. He could come after me.”
“Okay, Lonnie, look,” I began. “I have no clue who did it. Believe me when I tell you, that if I did know, I would be doing something about it. Or at least I would be trying. But no, I don’t know anything.”
The look on his face then was kind of odd. I could see a smile in his eyes, even though his mouth did not betray his feelings. Why in the world would he be happy that I didn't know anything? Or maybe I was just imagining it. He seemed genuinely interested in finding out who killed his friends. Unfortunately for him, and for me as well, I knew nothing. I wasn't going to be of any help. If I knew anything, I would have done something about it long ago.
“And why would the killer come after you now? It’s been years,” I asked. “If he wanted to get you too, he’s had plenty of time. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess,” was his only reply.
“Has anything odd happened around town that would make you think someone was after you?” I asked.
He gave a one shouldered shrug. “Not since Beau was killed, I guess. I haven’t heard of anything…”
Chapter 3
My eyes widened and my hand shot up in front of me before I realized what I was doing. “Wait. Did you just say that Beau was killed? When did this happen?” My mouth hung open waiting for a reply.
“I don’t know. Years ago. You knew about it, didn’t you? He was your friend, how is it possible that you didn’t know?”
“Oh, I…um.” Crap, he was right. There was no way that I wouldn’t have known about Beau dying. But then again, I was in prison. It might be possible that the news never got to me. Could I pull off that story?
“Did you not really know?” Lonnie asked me with a tilt of his head.
He seemed to be studying me, trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not. I was sure that I would have heard about Beau, in the years before I woke up in this current life. But I was totally unaware of anything that happened during that time. I just woke up late last night. Anything that went on previously was lost to me.
Well, I figured that I would just go for it. “No, I had no idea. I don’t get many visitors. Mostly just my mother, and she never mentioned it. Maybe she wanted to spare me. I don’t know. I’ll have to ask her about him next time I see her.”
I watched his face for a reaction. There was a bit of trepidation in his eyes. But he had no reason not to believe me, because I had no reason to lie to him.
“That’s really weird that your best friend has been dead for years, and no one told you,” Lonnie replied.
My eyes scanned the room, mostly for dramatic reasons, to get my point across to Lonnie. “I’ve been kind of busy. Ya know?”
He smiled. “Yeah, I guess you have.”
It was so weird imagining Beau being dead. I had just seen him. Yeah, it was a previous life, but to me, that was just days ago. It was difficult wrapping my brain around the fact that he was gone in this lifetime. I would never get the chance to see him, to talk to him, to confide what was going on in my life to him.
“So, tell me what happened to Beau.”
“I think it was the same person that killed Danny and Carlos,” Lonnie told me.
My eyebrows raised. “Really? Why do you think that?”
“Well, everyone in town knew that he was investigating the deaths of those guys. He was trying to clear your name.”
“He was?” I’m sure the surprise showed on my face. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah. He was going around town asking a lot of questions. It was starting to annoy the sheriff. In fact, he told Beau to stop several times,” Lonnie explained.
“How do you know that Dunne told him to stop?” After I said the sheriff’s name, I prayed that he was still the sheriff in this lifetime. But if he wasn’t, then I could blame my ignorance on being locked up and out of the loop of Red Lake politics.
“It was pretty common knowledge around town. Dunne was annoyed by Beau and told anyone who would listen.”
“Okay, that makes sense. The sheriff was never the type who kept things to himself,” I replied. “If something, or someone, bothered him, he was sure to let them know. Let everyone know, actually.”
“Beau was just in the way,” Lonnie told me.
That was an odd thing to say. I tried my best not to show any sort of reaction to his comment. But it did make me wonder why in the world he would say something like that. Whose way was he in, I wondered.
“I can’t believe that you are in here for the rest of your life,” Lonnie told me, scanning the room, and the other inmates.
My shoulders slumped, involuntarily. Well, that answers that, I thought to myself. I had been sentenced to spend the rest of my life in this hell hole. I had hoped that maybe it was involuntary manslaughter or assault, or something like that. Something that would not be a life sentence. I had hoped that it was just 20 years or so. If that were the case then I would have a chance of getting out one day. But if I got life, or the death penalty, which was more likely, then I wouldn’t be getting out. Not ever.
“Do you think that Sheriff Dunne had anything to do with Beau’s death?” I asked. It seemed unlikely, but I felt that it was important to ask.
Lonnie shook his head. “No, I doubt it. The sheriff is an asshole, there’s no doubt about that, but I don’t think he would kill anyone. Especially not someone that is just investigating a crime on his own time.”
“The sheriff framed me.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and leaned back in my chair, to watch for a reaction from Lonnie.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because I know that I didn’t do it. And because he came up with a bunch of bogus evidence. Evidence that only he could have planted. He needed to catch someone for the murders. There’s no doubt in my mind that he framed me,” I explained.
My voice was gruff. It was something I couldn’t help. I was bitter about the whole thing. Who wouldn’t be? And I don't even know why I was trying to convince him. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, even if he wanted to do anything about it. I could see that all he was concerned about was himself. Maybe it was a valid concern. His friends had been murdered after all. Perhaps whoever the murderer was, might want to tie up loose ends at some point. Though it had been over ten years, so that seemed quite unlikely.
“Mmm hmm,” he replied to my declaration about being framed.
“Is this the first time you’ve been here to see me?” I asked, knowing that if he was a regular visitor, I would sound like I was losing my mind. Actually…that would be the case even if this were his first visit. Either way, the question probably wouldn’t go over well.
It didn’t.
“You don’t remember if I’ve been here before or not?” His head tilted and his eyebrows seemed to scrunch together.
Think quickly. Come on, think quickly. “I got…um…I got jumped out in the yard not long ago. I’ve had some memory problems ever since.” Would he buy that story?
He narrowed his eyes my way. “Oh, I see. Sorry to hear that.”
Sure you are.
He seemed a bit uncomfortable with the question of whether he had been to see me before. Lonnie was squirming in his seat. “Yeah, this is the first time I’ve been here. Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? We weren’t friends, if I remember correctly.”
Even though I had only been in this life for a day, I knew deep down in my soul that we were never friends. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he confirmed.
“You do believe that I didn’t do it. Don’t you?” I asked. It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah, I know you didn’t do it.”
Suddenly Lonnie looked really uncomfortable. He stood up and I watched as his eyes darted around the room, anywhere but looking straight at me. When he began shuffling back-and-forth, I knew something was up. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. But it seemed as if Lonnie knew more than he was saying.
I needed more information. “How do you know I didn’t do it?” I asked, point blank. No reason to beat around the bush, as far as I was concerned. He came to me to talk about the murders. He needed information, and I needed information. “Did you see something that day? What do you know, Lonnie?”
“I gotta go.” He wasn’t going to answer my questions.
“Wait.” I reached for his arm.
“No touching.” It was that same guard as before, scowling at me.
I nodded and dropped my arm to my side. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”
“Lonnie, can you do me a favor?”
“I suppose. What is it?” he asked.
“Can you ask around to maybe find out what Beau knew? Maybe he found something that was in my favor. And maybe it got him killed,” I told him.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. What if I find out and it gets me killed?” Lonnie asked me.
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I mean, it’s been a really long time. Just be careful,” I told him.
Just as Lonnie was leaving, my mother walked in with my sister, Harper. Harper grabbed me in a big bear hug. The guard told her to let go and she ignored him, until he told her again with a sterner voice.
She released me and turned toward the guard with her hands up in front of her. “Okay, okay, I let go.”
I smiled as she rolled her eyes toward the guard, making sure that he saw her do it. That was Harper for you. She was in her late 20s now and just as much of a smart ass as she was when she was a teenager.
My mother did not hug me. But I could see from the look on her face that it killed her not to. She just didn't want to stir the pot, knowing that I was the one who would get into trouble for anything a visitor did. Besides, they might not let her come back in if she was doing anything they didn't like.
Harper spoke first. “I can’t believe you are thirty. Dang, you’re old,” she laughed.
Thirty? Well I was right. I figured I was around that old. So I had been in prison 10 or 11 years now. I was spending my 30th birthday there and would probably spend my 40th birthday there also.
“You know, you are only a couple years away from thirty yourself,” I teased.
Harper smiled. “Maybe. But I’m not there yet.”
She punched me playfully on the arm.
“No touching,” the guard said.
Man, he was getting annoying. Was that the only thing he ever said?
Harper looked at him and dramatically rolled her eyes. I covered my mouth as I stifled a laugh.
“Where’s Georgie?” I asked.
“Honey, you know that she doesn’t like to come here,” my mother told me.
“Yeah, I know,” I lied. “But, it’s my birthday. She couldn’t force herself to make an appearance on my birthday?”
“Sorry,” my mother responded.
Since I was spending the rest of my life in prison, I knew that there was a pretty good chance I would never see Georgie in this lifetime. That broke my heart, but there was nothing I could do about it. She was an adult by now, 21 years old. She had her own mind, and since I couldn't talk to her, there was nothing I could do to convince her to come see me.
I very much wanted to talk to my mother about the fact that I was reliving my lives. I knew she would understand, she did before. But I couldn't do it in front of Harper. She wouldn't understand. We might be able to convince her eventually, but probably not in this one visit. So I didn't see any point in even bringing it up.
Over the next half hour, I visited with my mother and sister. They did most of the talking, telling me about life outside. They told me all about Georgie, and the boy she was dating, and her life in college. I was happy for my baby sister. Harper wasn't currently seeing anyone, just spending her time working.
Once everyone left, I returned back to my cell. I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking mostly about my conversation with Lonnie.
Lonnie definitely knew more than he was telling me, and it was beginning to look very suspicious. I wondered if Lonnie was involved somehow. Could he have been the one to kill his friends?
That was an interesting thought. Sometimes Lonnie was killed though. He certainly could not have shot himself from a distance and made the gun disappear. So obviously, someone else was involved. But so was Lonnie, somehow. I just wasn't sure how. I knew he was though. Deep down in my gut, I knew he was. I just needed to figure out how that could be possible.
And what about Beau? Lonnie made some odd comments about Beau, such as him being in the way. Why would Lonnie say that? I can't imagine that the sheriff had anything to do with Beau’s death. Sure, Sheriff Dunne was corrupt. The sheriff was a horrible person. Even so, I couldn't imagine him killing Beau. I was already in prison for the murders, so what would be the sheriff’s motive? As much as I hated Dunne, no, I didn't think he did it. However, I was starting to suspect that Lonnie was involved.
As I laid there on my bed, I attempted to navigate a tangled web of deceit. The big question was, what was I going to do about all of it?
Chapter 4
I decided that I was not going to spend my life in prison, pissing it away. I was going to find out for sure who killed those boys. I might not ever be able to exonerate myself, that was true. I was no idiot and knew how the system worked. But if I died in prison this time, then the next time I woke up, if there was a next time, I could start right out in my new life going after the killer.
Sitting up on the metal bleachers in the yard one day, all I wanted to do was contemplate everything. I didn't want to talk to anybody, which worked out pretty well for me, since no one seemed to want to talk to me either. I just wanted to keep my head low and do my time. Not communicating with anyone, as much as possible anyway, was the best way to stay out of trouble and complete my goals.
Prison was a lonely place, and it was probably my own fault that I made it worse by setting myself up as a loner. Once in a while someone would talk to me, and I would respond, but barely. My responses were one words, maybe two. After a while, people just ignored me.
Occasionally someone would try to get me involved in their drama. There would be gang members trying to recruit more gang members. And there were always people that just wanted to fight to pass the time. I refused to get involved. Sometimes that caused me to get hurt. I spent time in the infirmary, but I refused to give in. Eventually, no one really talked to me.
After that first day, the only people who came to visit me were my mother and Harper. I never saw Lonnie again. Not that I expected to. I think he got what he wanted and was perhaps a bit leery that I suspected him. Which I did.
I so wished that I had Beau to help me out. He was the only one on the outside that would probably do so. Since my mother always came to visit with Harper, I never got a chance to have a discussion with her. And to be honest, I didn't want to get my mother involved. She could be in danger out there and I would not be around to help protect her. I especially didn't want Lonnie to be aware of my mother’s involvement. Therefore, I never did get her involved.
I didn't know if I could bear to live through another 10 or 15 years in prison, just to be executed. I had already done that and it was the worst experience of my life. It was all exasperated by the fact that I was innocent. I was probably the only one in that prison that was.
Even though I was getting used to reliving my lives and having the people in my life not be aware of any of it, I still lamented the fact that no one remembered what I had been through. Just because history did not remember that I spent over 20 years in prison last time, and over 10 years this time so far, I remembered. I remembered every single minute of my life in prison last time. Going through all of that, plus another execution in this life, was almost more than I could bear.
I hung in there though. I prayed for the day that I would figure out who killed those boys, and get myself exonerated. I had to hang onto that hope. In the back of my mind, I knew it would probably never happen. But I hung on anyway.
I started asking around to the other inmates to find out if anyone knew anything about my case. I figured that if anyone knew, it might be them. The prison wasn't far from Red Lake, and the other prisoners all knew why I was there. So it wasn't far-fetched to think that somebody might know something. Some of my fellow inmates were even from Red Lake, though I didn't know them personally from when I lived there.
One day, I went too far.
Chapter 5
The morning started off like every other morning in prison. The only change I made, was to get to the showers early. I didn't do that every day, but fairly often. I liked to get into the showers while the rest of them were at breakfast. It gave me a little bit of privacy, which was for my own sanity. Believe me when I say that taking a shower with 40 other men was not my idea of a fun time. So I tried to often get in there early in the morning.
