Damita watched Constance, realizing she could never understand the bond between a brother and sister, let alone twins. She hoped that her presence in their lives hadn’t caused the cycle of events that eventually led to Lester’s death. Damita soon realized Constance must have been thinking the exact same thing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“You did this! I told you not to! I told you not to send that note to Jack, but you did it anyway. You killed my brother. You killed Lester. Now I’m all alone because of you!”
Damita looked at Constance pleadingly. “Constance, I just sent the letter. It couldn’t possibly have even gotten to California yet. This wasn’t me. I promise you this was not me.”
That night, Damita removed all evidence that she had been living with Lester, and Constance called the police to report that he had been shot. They asked her dozens of questions that Constance was ill-equipped or plain afraid to answer. She was still angry with Damita, but she realized she needed her. She knew that Damita loved her brother and that she would have never intentionally hurt either of them so she tried her very best to rein in her anger and instead concentrate on figuring out who killed her brother. There was so much she didn’t feel she could tell the police so the chance of them finding the killer was slim to none. She knew that instead of fighting Damita, she would have to work together toward their common goal.
Back at Constance’s place, Damita had that familiar feeling of walking on eggshells.
“I’m sorry, Damita. I was out of my head with grief when I saw my brother laying there with a gunshot wound in his head. I didn’t know what I was saying. None of this is your fault. Please forgive me.”
“No forgiveness necessary. Neither of us have done anything to warrant needing forgiveness. It’s those who hurt us and Lester that will need to beg forgiveness.”
“What’s next?” Constance asked.
“We are going to need to find out if indeed Jack was here and who this man is that I keep seeing. He followed me here tonight. I kept waiting for him to come in or try to approach me in some way but he always stands, staring at me from a distance. I’m sure it’s the same man that helped me out of the Towers on nine-eleven; that’s why all of this makes even less sense. Why would he save me and risk his own life, only to try and harm me?”
“Maybe you’ve got this all wrong. Maybe the man that helped you out of the Towers is not trying to harm you. Maybe he’s trying to save you.”
“Save me from what? Neal is dead and the police seem to have never tried to locate me. I searched all over the Internet to see if they were searching for his killer and I found nothing. A week after I killed him, I was still in New York. I stayed locked up in that musty motel room and all I had to do was watch television. I watched every news channel I could find, half expecting to see a wanted poster with my name and face on it.”
Constance looked at Damita as if she was solving a puzzle. “Damita, this sounds crazy, but are you absolutely sure you killed him?”
“Of course I killed him. I was in that apartment with that body for hours. He was absolutely, positively dead. The entire room was covered with his blood. I hit him with that iron so many times, my own arm hurt when I was done. There is no way Neal Westman survived that. And, if he had survived, I surely would have realized that before I left the apartment.”
“Damita, you should do a bit more research. Something tells me if you dig deep enough you’ll find what you’re looking for. In the meantime, I’m going to the library to do my own research. I need to know exactly where Jack Somersby really is.”
For several days neither Constance nor Damita went to work. They were given time off to make arrangements for Lester, but that was not what the two women were using the time for. Instead, they were trying to save each of their lives. They didn’t have Lester to protect either of them anymore and the only people they knew they could trust was each other.
Damita decided she would pay very close attention to her mysterious stalker. She wondered if Constance might be right and instead of following her to do her harm, he really was there to save her. If that were the case, she hoped he would reveal his intentions sooner rather than later, because Damita was sick and tired of being sick and tired. She hadn’t asked for any of it, but she was now fully prepared to end all of it. She was tired of running and hiding and missing her family and friends. She was sure she had killed Neal. She considered whether going back and dealing with the backlash of what she had done was better than the way she was now living. Sure, she had met Constance and Lester and until now they were enjoying a good life, but she knew better than anyone that the sins of the past followed you for the rest of your days, unless and until you confronted them. That was what she was prepared to do now. She was going to confront not only her sins, but the sins of those who had an impact on her life.