Page 122 of The Hitchhikers
“Oh.” Jenny turned to stare at the hospital. “Okay.” Alice still wasn’t sure what was going through Jenny’s mind. She was probably in shock—or ready to pass out from heatstroke.
Alice might do the same if she stayed in that car a moment longer.
“Let’s go.” She stepped out, leaving the keys in the ignition, and the knife on the seat.
Jenny climbed out of the rear and hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders. She carried Simon’s pack in front of her body.
They’d only taken a few steps when Alice heard the wail of asiren, rapidly growing closer. An ambulance? Alice and Jenny turned to look at the road.
A black-and-white police car with lights flashing screeched into the parking lot and blocked the Buick. Jenny let out a loud gasp and stumbled backward. Alice stood frozen.
Two policemen jumped out of the patrol car. One from each door, guns drawn. They were yelling, but Alice couldn’t focus on the words. It was just angry noise.
Other people in the parking lot were turning to stare. A woman was running with a child into the building.
One of the cops shouted, “Get your hands up,” and Alice thought he was talking to Jenny, so she didn’t move, but now he was advancing on Alice, his pistol aimed at her, his face red.
“I said get your hands up!”
She lifted her hands into the air. He was telling her to turn around. Then she was shoved against the side of the Buick. Her feet kicked apart, pain lancing up her leg.
“Stop! I’ve been shot.”
Didn’t he see the blood? Hot metal burned her cheek, her chest, and her thighs. She was patted down, hands slid in her pockets, felt around her waist.
“I’m an American. My husband and I were kidnapped.”
Jenny was shouting something nearby, something about Alice.
“She didn’t do anything! Let her go.”
Jenny was on the ground. Her face against the pavement. A cop was kneeling on her legs. Her pack had been torn off. Simon’s was a few feet away. Jenny’s sunglasses were in pieces.
“She’s pregnant!” Alice yelled. “Don’t hurt her.”
Alice’s hands were forced behind her back. Cuffs clicked tight. The cop who had Jenny was dragging her up to standing. She stumbled, swaying on her feet. Then Jenny’s eyes rolled back into her head and her body went limp. The cop caught her just before she fell.
CHAPTER 43JENNY
She spent the first night in the small-town hospital. She didn’t sleep. Every time she moved, the handcuffs clanged on the metal bed rail. When she closed her eyes, she’d see Simon’s face, his body alone on the hill, and the tears would start again. Maybe they’d never stopped. Maybe she’d been crying for hours. Everything had turned dark since he died. Each moment slowed.
She had a headache. Her lips were dry. Her chest hurt. She replayed the moment Simon fell over and over in her mind. Was he scared? Did he feel betrayed?
Nurses came in and out of her room. Brisk. Unsmiling. She was on an IV for fluids. Her cuts and scrapes were bandaged. Her legs were splotchy with bruises. The doctor said her baby was okay. He spoke to the clipboard in front of him. Never once looked her in the eye. The cops asked their questions with clenched jaws and grim expressions. She asked for a lawyer.
The next day, she was driven to Vancouver. She sat in the back of a patrol car, still in handcuffs, and watched the scenery that they’d passed through days earlier, now in reverse. She fell asleep slumped against the door.
She was held in the women’s unit of the provincial jail in Vancouver. Alone in a cell, she huddled under a thin blanket on the flat mattress. She didn’t look around. She didn’t want to see themetal toilet and sink. The bars. She tried to make her mind go blank.
The court-appointed lawyer was a small man, not much taller than her, with glasses, a mop of frizzy black hair, and a thick mustache. His suit was rumpled and his briefcase a mess, but he had kind eyes, and he brought her tea. He explained all the evidence against her.
The police believed she had helped Simon with the murders. In revenge for her mother having kicked Jenny out. Simon’s and Jenny’s bloody fingerprints were all over the house. It didn’t matter who did the actual killing. Jenny was guilty for just being there and escaping with him. Then there were the other crimes they committed. The lawyer listed so many additional charges that she lost count.
There was something calledduress, but she’d have to say she was afraid of Simon. It would be hard to prove, and Alice and Tom could testify that she had gone with Simon willingly. Jenny didn’t want to go to trial. She didn’t want to have to talk about it in front of people.
She didn’t want to keep lying.
If she pled guilty, the prosecutor would drop the charges to second degree. She learned that she would serve her time in the Prison for Women in Kingston, Ontario, which was across from the men’s prison. If Simon had lived, they’d have been close. She remembered how they’d sat by the campfire that one night and talked about prison. He’d thought they’d never be caught. He was so sure. She burst into tears, and her lawyer gently patted her back and handed her a tissue.
