Page 150 of The Innocent

They settled in at the house. Imogene got changed, and he made some food. She barely touched anything. He wasn’t expecting much from her tonight. When she moved to the couch, he followed her, sitting on the opposite end. This was new territory for him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever consoled anyone in his life aside from Hyde when they were kids.

She pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You probably have questions.”

He did. A lot. While he followed most of the explanation, the cryptic alibi accusation at the end had him questioning it. It certainly got a response from her. Imogene hadn’t said anything, but the way her face paled, he knew it had struck something in her.

“You can tell me now, tell me later, or never tell me. Not gonna change anything.”

Her throat bobbed, and she whispered. “I can tell you now.”

Imogene rested her chin on her knees. “My dad and I were never particularly close. After my mom died, I only lived with him for a year before my grandparents took me in. They weren’t big fans of his, especially my grandfather. They never stopped him from seeing me, but they also never encouraged it. I once overheard my grandfather say my dad was born bad, and the only good thing about him was me.”

Your grandfather was right.

“You didn’t see him a lot?”

Imogene shook her head. “A couple times a year when his route took him through our area. He was a truck driver, so he was always on the road. He called every other month at the beginning. But the older I got, the less he called. He came to my high school graduation. I remember that. Actually remember all the times he showed up ’cause it didn’t happen often. It was like I was savoring the memory.” Her eyes welled, and her voice cracked. “And I think that’s a really important part of the story.”

“Alright. Tell me.”

“About five years ago, my dad just showed up at my condo. No call or heads up. He was just there. He said he was on the road and had his truck parked at the motel. Took an uber over ’cause he wanted to surprise me. I was in shock because I hadn’t seen him since my grandparents’ funerals. We only spoke maybe twice a year, my birthday and his own. But I always tried for more. He said with his schedule it was nearly impossible. So I was really excited and didn’t really question it.” She paused, staring down at her knees. “He wasn’t up to going to a restaurant, so we ordered take out. When I was leaving to pick it up, he handed me a wad of cash. I told him I wanted to treat him because he’d gone out of his way to come see me, but he insisted.” She released a heavy breath. “I remember thinking how nice that was of him. I went out, got the food, and we spent the rest of the night catching up. Talked about everything. It got really late, so he even stayed over. The next morning, we got breakfast. It was the first time in my life I thought ‘this is what it’s like to have a real dad in my life.’” She swiped the tears trailing down her cheeks. “He had to leave that afternoon but promised to keep in touch more. And he did.”

“You saw him after that?” Jekyll asked.

She nodded. “Only a few times, but it was more than I’d seen him collectively in my whole life. He called twice a week just to check in. We even started to make plans to take a vacation together. It would’ve been our first. And then five months later, it all came crashing down.” She sniffled. “I was at work when I got the call that he’d been arrested. I thought it had to be a mistake, but when I talked to him and asked what the charges were, he said murder.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That they got the wrong guy. That he didn’t do it. And of course, he didn’t.” Her voice shook and she tapped her chest. “Because I know my dad and he’s incapable of something like this. And then he started rambling about being with me that night. Surprising me at my house, treating me to dinner and then staying over. Which was exactly true, so I knew they’d made a mistake. I called immediately, and two hours later I was meeting with the detectives to take my statement. I thought it would be cleared up by morning, and my dad would be free after this horrible mistake.” She drew in a breath. “Then they confirmed the date. The murder happened on a Tuesday. My dad came to see me on Wednesday. But when I talked to him, he swore it was Tuesday. So much so, I was second guessing myself. Or maybe I was trying to trick myself into believing it was Tuesday. The officers asked for the receipt from dinner, but I had given it to my dad along with the change. Told my dad, and he said he threw it out. But he was still insisting it was Tuesday.” She sighed. “And then I got a ticket in the mail. When I went to pick up the food, I double parked and got a fine through the mail. The date was on it. Wednesday. When I told him, he was so angry.” She pointed to her chest. “At me. When he finally calmed down, he said the ticket had to be misdated.” She shrugged. “But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t lie and say it was. He stopped calling me for two weeks after. Like he was punishing me. But I just couldn’t lie.”

Motherfucker!

“That’s what Calloway meant by you were his first alibi?”

“Nobody but my dad would know that. Or someone he told.” She nodded. “I didn’t see it that way back then, but he did push and push, trying to convince me I was wrong on the date. The proof was in the ticket. But I still believed he was innocent and vowed to help him prove it.”

Jekyll had given her space to tell her story, but it was enough for one night. He leaned across the couch, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him. Imogene went willingly, crashed against his chest, and wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight as if he was her lifeline.

I am.

*

Imogene had gone to bed almost immediately after their talk. Jekyll was exhausted but not tired enough to fall asleep. He had too much on his mind. The truth was necessary and it was important for her to hear it firsthand. But it wouldn’t come without scars. Jekyll was fully prepared to pick up the pieces for her.

This may have been new territory for him, but he was all in. He had no doubt he’d fuck things up along the way. Jekyll wasn’t built, nor was he raised to be someone who dealt easily with emotions. But for Imogene, he’d do whatever it took.

Jekyll was finishing off his beer in the kitchen when Imogene stopped in the doorway. She wore his T-shirt that came down to her knees, swallowing her.

“Can’t sleep?”

Imogene shrugged, looking up at him with uncertainty. “I woke up, and you weren’t there so…” She inched in the room but still kept her distance. “I thought maybe you might be having second thoughts.”

What the hell was she talking about?

He placed his bottle on the counter. “Second thoughts about what?”

She lifted her shaky hand, pointing to her chest. “Me.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes welled.

Jekyll stalked across the room and wrapped his arms around her.