Only Time Will Tell
Part 11
Tom walked into Janet's bedroom, the small piece of stone pottery grasped tightly in his hand. He had used his time coming up the stairs to debate exactly how he was going to confront Janet. He could use the direct approach, but that would give Janet too much opportunity to make excuses. A more roundabout line of questioning was appropriate.
"Oh Tommy, I was hoping you'd come up and help me," Janet said as she was attempting to close the cover of the packed suitcase. "What were you doing down there?"
"Nothing much," Tom lied. "Just taking a look around the house. I recognized a lot of the things from your apartment."
"Yeah, Mitch didn't have many belongings in his place. When we married, I used most of my furnishings for our house."
"I didn't see the cat. Do you have it up here?" Tom asked as he walked up behind her to help her fasten the suitcase.
"The cat?" Janet questioned, her eyes narrowing.
"The cat that I gave you. . .right before. . ."
". . .the divorce, right. That cat." Janet walked into the bathroom and removed items from the medicine cabinet. "It broke during our last move. Sorry. I tried to be careful with it, but you know men. Mitch didn't pack it away very securely."
"Oh. Too bad." Tom settled into the chair next to the bed, while he watched Janet move around in the bathroom.
"I was heartbroken."
"Janet?"
"Yeah?" The woman answered, while she continued to put her cosmetics into a bag.
"I hate to keep bringing this up, but can you tell me again what happened with Mitch yesterday?"
He saw Janet become suddenly still. She said nothing for a long while. Then she turned and walked back into the room. "Why? We've gone over this before. He attacked me, I fought back, he was killed."
"I know Janet, and I'm sorry, but there are some things that just aren't clear to me."
Janet walked towards Tom and kneeled on the floor next to the chair. "I don’t know how to make things any clearer." She placed a hand on his knee. "I told you, Mitch had a temper. He would erupt at me without provocation."
"I know. That's what you said," Tom responded as he pushed her hand off his knee. Her other hand quickly trapped his between hers and she pulled it to her lips, giving the back of it a kiss.
"He wasn't like you, Tom. You are so calm. . .so caring. . .so forgiving. Mitch was, I don't know, exciting. . .emotional, he could be funny one minute, exploding the next."
She raised up and leaned forward, bringing her lips close to Tom's ear. "Making love to Mitch was like making love to a tiger. He could be purring and content one minute and on attack the next. Not like you."
"We never made love, Janet," Tom said, pushing her gently away from his ear.
Janet slid her body onto his lap, bringing her arms around his neck, "We could change that." Her lips made contact with his, her tongue trying to push its way past.
Tom jerked his head backwards, startled by the advance, "No, we couldn't." Tom rejected sternly. He fought to push her off his lap, but she held on tighter to his neck.
"Why not, Tommy?" Janet's look was filled with confusion and pain. She leaned forward, again trying to kiss him. Tom once again, pushed her face away.
"For one thing, it's not right and you know it."
"It's Cassy, isn't it. After everything that bitch did to you, you still love her," Janet's sudden fury caused her to leap involuntarily from his lap.
Tom stood and walked up behind her, "I want to hear you tell me what happened with Mitch yesterday."
"I told you!" Janet repeated, her voice becoming louder and harsher.
"Tell me again," Tom's voice now matched hers.
Janet turned away and walked to the other side of the bed, sitting down next to the nightstand. When she turned back to Tom, her eyes were filled with tears, "Why are you doing this to me, Tommy? I thought you cared about me. I thought I could trust you."
"I want to know the truth," Tom pressed, walking to the same side of the bed that she occupied.
"Fine. Whatever," She yelled. "I. . .I was in the kitchen. Mitch called me into the living room. He was furious. . .yelling obscenities at me. He came. . . at me. . . with the knife; we struggled for it. . . he. . .cut my arm. Then he stumbled . . .backwards and fell. I landed on top of him. . .the knife went. . ." a tear ran down her cheek, but her words were still harsh, "the knife went into his chest."
Tom looked down at the floor, unable to believe that he hadn't asked the most obvious questions of the woman the day before, "How did Mitch get the knife?"
Janet looked up at him, her face flushed, eyes filled with confusion, "What? What do you mean?"
"I mean, if you were in the kitchen, when did Mitch get the knife? Did he walk into the kitchen, grab the knife, go back into the living room and then start yelling at you?"
Janet's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "I don't know when he got the knife. I walked into the living room and he had it. He probably took it from the kitchen earlier."
"You expect me to believe that Mitch was furious with you, walks into the kitchen gets the knife, walks back into the living room, waits awhile and then decides to attack you?"
"I don't care what you believe," Janet responded, her voice filled with rage once again. "That's what happened." She stood and turned her back on the man.
"I don't think so, Janet. You've already lied to me. I think you're lying again." Tom held up the piece of white pottery in his hand. "You should've been more careful, Janet."
"What in the Hell are you talking about?" Janet yelled with fury.
"I found this on the carpet downstairs. It's a paw off of the cat statue. Why'd you lie, Janet?" The woman said nothing, but Tom could see the heat in her face building in intensity. "The cat statue shattered, huh. You probably didn't count on that when you hit Mitch, did you." There was still only silence from the woman. "You want to know what I think happened, Janet?" The woman was silent, her face red, her hands shaking as her fists clinched and released rapidly. "I don't think Mitch's death was an act of self-defense. I think you murdered him."
"No. . ." her voice finally sounded, "he fought with me. . .he attacked me."
"He may have fought with you. . .but I don't think he attacked first."
Janet stepped forward towards Tom, her eyes filled with pain, "Tommy, why are you doing this? Please don't hurt me this way!"
"Then tell me the truth, Janet."
Janet turned around, facing the nightstand, her shoulders slumping forward. Tom could tell by the movement of her body that she was sobbing. Then he noticed that she began to sway slightly. He took an instinctive step forward to steady the woman, reaching out to grab her shoulders.
Suddenly Janet spun around, violently swinging the nightstand lamp in an upward arch at his head. Tom was taken by surprise and was not able to block its contact with his temple. The force of the blow sent his head bouncing against the nearby wall. With a grunt, he slumped to the floor, unconscious.
End Part 11
To Part 12