Chapter 14

Deja's telephone had been ringing nonstop the entire day. She barely got any sleep the night before, so to keep from looking like a wreck at work she took the day off. She decided she'd get a head start on the police and go to them instead of waiting for them to come to her. But before she did that she wanted to call Mort and tell him what had happened.

It was around 8 am, and she knew Mort didn't like to be called that early, but this was a serious matter. The phone rang three times before Mort finally picked up.

"This better be good," he moaned groggily into the phone.

"It is," Deja replied timidly.

At the sound of her voice, Mort immediately perked up. "Didn't I say no calls before ten," he began to laugh.

"Mort," she paused, "I have something to tell you."

"Shoot."

"Okay, well...the night before last...I...um...I went to the movies with my ex, Darrell," she braced herself for Mort's harsh words.

Silence.

"Hello?" she asked, thinking maybe he hadn't heard her.

"I'm still here. You said you went to the movies with Darrell," he sounded so calm. Deja thought this may not be as bad as she once thought it would be.

"Yeah, well it wasn't a date or anything. He just wanted to hang out as friends. Totally innocent, I promise you. Well after the movies we went to the diner for some coffee. I told him that I didn't think he and I needed to continue on with a platonic relationship. I just wasn't comfortable with that..."

"So you're telling me now because you felt guilty?" Mort questioned.

"Well, sort of," Deja knew she was lying. Had Darrell's 'incident' not happened she would have never told Mort about that night. "Darrell was killed last night after I left him."

"At the diner!" Mort asked, in complete shock.

"No, at his apartment later that night," she began to tear up, "I heard it on the news after I got off the phone with you last night."

"Wow," was all he could manage to say.

"I know, I'm still in shock over it all. I'm actually on my way to the police station in a minute to let them know he was with me beforehand."

"Won't that make you look guilty?" Mort asked suspiciously.

"I hope not," Deja managed a small laugh, "I just feel like they're going to find out he was with me anyway, so I may as well get it over with, ya know?"

"Good thinking."

"Yeah, well let me finish getting dressed," she sighed, "You're not mad are you?"

"No, not at all. If you say it was totally innocent then I believe you." He sounded sincere enough, Deja thought. "I appreciate you telling me though," he finished.

"No problem. I want things between us to be out in the open. No secrets," she said, "Well, let me go. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Definitely. Deja?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Thanks, I really needed to hear that. I love you too." Deja hung up the phone, put her shoes and coat on and walked out of her house.

Mort couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He remembered seeing Deja with Darrell that night. He even recalled following Darrell back to his place. But after that, things began to get fuzzy. He tried his hardest to recollect what happened between the time of him sitting in his car at Darrell's apartment complex and the time he got back to Tashmore Lake. Just then it hit him. The hat, on the coffee table. Could Shooter have done this? Mort thought to himself.

"No way," he answered out loud, shaking his head.

He suddenly remembered something. He grabbed his keys and rushed out to open the trunk of his car.His worst fears had come true. He remembered putting the knife under piles of junk and now it was lying on top of everything.

Mort began to shake his head and pull at his hair. "No,no,no,no,no!" he kept repeating. "This can't be happening, not again!"

"Oh, but it is Mr. Rainey," the familiar voice said from behind him. Mort turned around to stare directly at Shooter. He looked the same. Tall, lanky, black hat, completely creepy.

"What do you want from me!"Mort yelled.

"Mr. Rainey, I think you'll be needin' to ask yourself that," Mort hated that southern tone.

"Well, I don't need you anymore," Mort said, "You can leave!"

"We'll see 'bout that." And with that Shooter was gone. Mort didn't want to believe Shooter was back. Especially now that everything was going so good in his life. He couldn't let Deja find out that he had anything to do with Darrell's death. He hoped Shooter had covered his tracks.

Deja had been sitting in the police station for about two hours now. She'd retold the same story at least four different times to about nine different people. She was ready to go home. Most of the police officers were thankful that she had come forward, but a couple of them kept eyeing her warily.

Needless to say, she was ready to go home. Just then a petite, Hispanic woman took a seat next her. Deja gave a slight smile, but she could tell the woman had been crying. Her eyeswerebloodshot and she looked liked she hadn't had sleep in the last five days. Deja could tell that underneath her stressed face she was a very attractive woman.

About 15 minutes had passed, when an officer came up to both women. At first Deja thought he was only talking to her, but then he looked at the woman seated next to her and asked her how she was holding up. Deja realized this woman must be Darrell's girlfriend, Celeste.

After the officer left, Deja turned to the woman and asked her, "Are you Darrell's girlfriend?"

She nodded, beginning to cry again. "I'm so sorry to hear what happened to him," Deja continued, "I'm Deja."

Suddenly, the woman's eyes turned to anger. "So you're the bi.tch he went to the movies with!" she yelled.

It startled Deja. She was not expecting that reaction. She was under the impression that Celeste knew he would be taking her to the movies.

Deja softly began, "Darrell said you told him to take someone else to the movies."

"Yeah, I did, but I didn't mean for him to take his ex!" her voice had escalated to a feverishly high pitch, "Plus, he told me he was taking his friend, Matt."

Deja couldn't believe what she was hearing. Darrell had lied to Celeste. Deja just knew he had changed, but this just proved that he was still a cheat.Still off in her own world, she was snapped back into reality with Celeste's maddening words.

"Bi.tch, do you hear me!" Celeste screamed.

"What did you call me?" Deja asked, her anger beginning to rise.

"You heard me! I bet you're the one that did this to Darrell," Celeste continued, standing up over Deja, "You probably threw yourself at himat the movies and he rejected you. I would bet money that you killed him!"

Deja couldn't hold back anymore, this girl was pissing her off. She slowly stood up and stared Celeste directly in the eyes. "I suggest you shut up, right now!" She'd kept her cool for long enough.

"Or what! You'll kill me too?"

This woman was a lunatic. Even though Deja knew she should leave the room to keep this situation from heightening, her anger got the best of her. Deja could no longer control her actions. The next thing she knew, her fist was in the air and it made sudden contact with right side of Celeste's face.

Deja's hand hurt like hell, but before she could even take the time to examine it Celeste came back at her. The two women were at it like cats and dogs. On the floor wrestling each other and screaming obscenities, they were finally pulled apart by about four officers.

What took them so long? Deja thought to herself. She couldn't believe this woman was attacking her in a police station. And accusing her of murder. They were led off in two different directions. She hoped she would never have to see Celeste ever again.

After sitting in the police station for another 90 minutes and retelling this story for the millionth time, Deja was finally allowed home. It was a long, tiring day and all she wanted to do was go to bed. She tried to calm her nerves by thinking of the nice, restful week she would have with Mort in the coming days. Those thoughts would surely get her through the day.