HEARTLESS

Chapter Ten- Jenna's Story

Jenna Brunswick tucked a wavy lock of her short black hair behind her ear. The slight tremor in her hand hinted at the nervousness she felt as she faced the two CSIs who sat in her kitchen.

"Cream or sugar?" she asked, watching Calleigh pick up the mug of steaming coffee she had poured for each.

"No ma'am," said Eric, smiling. "We like coffee black – and strong. This is really good."

Jenna could see they were trying to set her at ease with their friendly manner. They were certainly a lot different from the investigators she had dealt with almost a year ago. They'd been cool and clinical, not sympathetic at all. In fact, they'd grown impatient with her.

When the two CSIs called her earlier today and asked to see her about what had happened when that creature Barton had attacked her, she'd almost said no. It was only her fear that they could make her talk to them that had convinced her to see them.

She sometimes wondered if she'd ever be able to put the attack behind her. She still had nightmares about the confrontation, remembering the silky timbre of Barton's voice, a voice that later changed into something horrifying and chilling. His earlier charm evaporated as he first caressed and then began squeezing her throat… squeezing until she couldn't breathe and she began to struggle with him. Never before in her life had she been so frightened. Gasping for breath, she looked at his face and went cold at the smile she saw there. It was clear he was enjoying her terror.

Even now she'd awaken from a dead sleep, feeling the pressure of his fingers against her throat, hearing his voice, feeling his eyes on her – even now in the safe darkness of her bedroom.

Calleigh took a sip of her coffee as she regarded Jenna. Finally she set the mug down and smiled. "Jenna, we're very grateful you agreed to see us. I know this must be very difficult for you," she said softly.

Jenna nodded at the pair. "I would love to forget it ever happened."

"But you can't, can you?" asked Eric.

"No, I can't. I have dreams. Dreams that leave me drenched in sweat and shaking. My doctor says it's a form of post-traumatic stress. I, um, take medication for it… anti-anxiety meds. Most of the time they work… until he starts calling out to me."

Eric frowned. "Calling out to you? I don't understand…"

Again the nervous girl fiddled with her hair, twisting it around her finger, tucking it behind her ear. "Sometimes, at night, I'll wake up and feel his breath against my face, the pressure of his hands… and I'll hear him whispering to me."

"He whispers your name?" asked Calleigh.

"Not my name; someone else's. Catherine. During the actual attack, he kept calling me Catherine." The girl shivered.

Calleigh and Eric exchanged a glance.

"Jenna, would you tell us about the attack, please?"

The girl took a deep breath and nodded at Calleigh. She liked the woman who sat across from her; she was easy to talk to, warm… sympathetic. "I'd gone to work that night at the Alahambra Club. I was serving drinks at the bar when he walked in."

"Barton?" asked Eric.

"Yes, him. At first, I thought he was very nice. He was charming, attractive. He had an old-fashioned way with me, respectful – nothing like the wolves I come in contact with all the time. He told me I reminded him of his former wife; said that I looked like her. He also said he was a widower, that she'd died in an automobile accident, and that he had loved her very much. I felt sorry for him as I listened to him. He was so nice. He stayed at the bar for an hour, talking to me, reminiscing about his wife.

"Things got busy, and I lost track of him. When I finally got a free moment, he was gone – but he'd left a $100 tip under his glass for me! I'm used to a rich clientele, but some of the stingiest people I know are wealthy. I was very grateful for the tip and sorry I hadn't had the chance to thank him and say goodnight.

"I was such an idiot! But he seemed so friendly... How could I know what was to come? There were no signs to pick up on." She began to tear up. "How could I know?"

"You couldn't," Calleigh said quietly, reaching across the table and placing her hand atop Jenna's. "Don't beat yourself up – terrible things happen to good people all the time."

Jenna nodded. "Thank you. You're very kind. The other police officers… they made me feel as if I were responsible for the attack, that I'd been sloppy, stupid…"

Eric's lips thinned as he listened to Jenna. He knew the kind of cops she meant, and his thoughts flickered briefly on Rick Stetler, whose cynicism made him view his fellow officers with a jaundiced eye.

"Okay, Jenna," continued Calleigh, "Barton left the bar. You saw him later in the evening, though…"

"Yes… I was getting off my shift at the Alahambra and headed out to my car. It was after midnight, and I had a short walk to the lot where my car was parked."

"You didn't park on the Alahambra lot?" Eric seemed surprised.

"Oh no… that was reserved for the club's guests. I parked about a block away."

"You were by yourself when you left the club?" asked Calleigh.

"Yes. It was no big deal. The club is located in a nice part of Miami. There had never been any problems before." She looked sad. "Until me…"

"Tell us what happened."

Jenna again began fiddling with her hair and her large, vivid eyes darted around the room, as if she feared someone might be listening. "I was walking to the car and I felt someone falling into step behind me. I felt danger suddenly, and I whirled around – but it was only him… my friend from the bar. It sounds ludicrous now, but I was so relieved to see him! I had imagined some sort of monster was trailing me.

"Little did I know I was right…"

She rose from the table and began pacing about the small kitchen. "We both laughed at how I had jumped in fright when I saw him. It seemed so silly… He seemed so unthreatening. He admitted he'd been waiting for me to leave the club, saying he felt drawn to me because I reminded him so much of his wife. That touched me. He offered to walk with me to my car. I remember him saying, 'You're too pretty to be out here walking alone. You're just like she was… too trusting.' He made me feel important, that I was someone he valued. I was flattered. So together we walked to my car."

"What happened next?" asked Calleigh.

"The lot was empty except for the two of us. I pointed out my car to him and he took my keys. He was so gallant – taking my keys, unlocking the door. He reached for my hand – kissed it! No one had ever kissed my hand before. I felt like I was a princess or something."

She stopped pacing and looked at the two CSIs, a puzzled look on her face. "I was about to get into my car when he placed a hand on my shoulder. It wasn't a threatening gesture – it just seemed as if he wanted me to turn around so he could say goodnight. But when I turned to face him, an odd look appeared on his face. This sounds absurd, but he looked like someone else… something else. In that second, the word 'monster' came back to me, and I wanted suddenly to jump into my car, but I couldn't. His eyes held me. He leaned close to my ear – and I'll never forget the tone of his voice. It was horrific!"

"What do you mean?" asked Eric.

"His voice sounded like… like a collection of voices, all mixed up, all vying with each other for dominance. It made me think of – well, of what a pit of hissing snakes might sound like. It was terrible to hear!"

Calleigh didn't know what to make of the girl's words, but she felt her flesh crawl as Jenna's imagery of hissing reptiles bloomed in her brain.

"Jenna," continued Eric, "do you remember what he said to you?"

"Remember it? I'll never forget it! The words haunt my dreams! He said, 'Dearest, you thought you'd gotten away, didn't you? You belong to me, Catherine. I'll always find you. Your heart belongs to me… and such a big heart it is.' And that is when he placed his hands around my throat and began to squeeze… tighter and tighter. Panicked, I tried to fight him, but he was so strong! My vision began to fade to a small pinpoint of light, and the pain of not being able to breathe was intense. After a few seconds, panic began to fade and I felt resigned to my fate. It was odd… that terrible acceptance. I looked into his eyes and knew that it was over. I believe I was dying… it felt that way."

Jenna stopped speaking suddenly, surprised to find tears had escaped her eyes. She wiped them away with trembling fingers. Calleigh and Eric waited, knowing she'd continue once she mastered herself. Finally she did.

"I must have passed out… when I came to, there were several people standing over me, helping me. I was being loaded into an ambulance, and I couldn't stop coughing in spite of the plastic air cup that the paramedic had placed over my nose and mouth."

Jenna's face puckered, and she fought to maintain her composure.

"After I was released from the hospital, the cops came to see me, and then began the endless questions. I was lucky… while he was trying to kill me, a couple spotted us from the other side of the lot, and while they couldn't see exactly what was happening, they figured out it was something bad. They phoned 911 – and the cops came before he could finish the job. He got away – until they picked him up the next day."

"On your description?"

"Yes… I had to go in and pick him out of a police lineup. It was terrible. The cops assured me the men in the lineup couldn't see me." She shivered. "But… I think he could. He was looking straight at me. I know he saw me in spite of the mirrored glass."

Calleigh and Eric exchanged glances. It seemed unlikely that Barton would have seen her; Eric was certain that Jenna's fear made her think he did.

"According to the court records, you testified against him – and that's what got him put away," said Calleigh.

Troubled, Jenna hesitated before replying. "That's true. I… well, I didn't want to testify, but I had no choice. The entire time I was on the stand, he sat there at the table with his lawyer, staring at me. Smiling. He smiled as if he knew a secret. It made my skin crawl. I hope to God I never see him again!"

Jenna sat down, facing the two CSIs. "He's an evil man. All charm on the outside, but something dark and twisted within. You don't notice it at first. Handsome, refined… elegant manners. He fools you, draws you in. But it's a mask for the violence. Until the point where he tried to choke me, I thought he was quite a catch, and I felt special that he sought me out.

"Now I feel stupid and frightened. He saw me as prey, and I didn't realize it until his hands were around my throat. He's worse than any horror story I ever read as a kid. Who knew that truth could be stranger than fiction? You would have to hear his voice to understand… or voices. So odd… so creepy."

"That's the second time you've referred to 'voices' – you think you heard him speaking with more than one voice?" asked Eric.

"Not at first – but later, during the attack, I had the definite impression there was more than one voice. Do you remember those old songs from the sixties, the ones in which an artist would have his voice overdubbed so that he could harmonize with himself?"

"Oh, I know what you're talking about," replied Calleigh. "My mom had a collection of Connie Francis albums; she often used that technique to record tracks of her voice singing in harmony with herself."

"Right," said Jenna. "Thinking back on Barton's voice, it's similar to that… it was his voice, but it seemed overdubbed, somehow… many voices, but none in harmony. Total dissonance. You'd have to hear it to understand. It was beyond creepy.

"I never, ever want to hear it again," she said, her voice definite. She looked at the CSIs' mugs of coffee and nodded. "You finished with those?"

Calleigh and Eric got the message. Jenna told them everything she could, and now she wanted them to leave.

"Jenna, you've been great," said Calleigh, smiling. She handed a card to the young woman. "If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to give me a call. We're grateful for your time."

Jenna just nodded and looked away.

"What do you think?" asked Calleigh once she and Eric were outside Jenna's building.

Eric ran a hand through his dark hair. "I don't know. Her story made sense; she made sense, until she began all that hysterical talk about Barton's voice."

"You don't believe her?"

"You do?" Eric looked surprised. "Multiple voices coming out of one guy? What is this, 'The Exorcist?' No, I think her fear has made her imagine a combination of voices. She's still traumatized."

Calleigh wondered. Jenna hadn't seemed hysterical to her. She was frightened, but her story hung together. While Calleigh couldn't reconcile the bit about the voices with her logical mind, she'd read of cases where people saw and experienced strange things while under the influence of a stronger personality. Maybe Jenna found Barton's personality so overwhelming that she thought she'd heard multiple voices.

"I'll tell you something I do think," said Eric, pulling Calleigh's thoughts back to him. "Horatio isn't going to take it well when we share that tidbit about Barton calling Jenna Catherine."

Calleigh took a deep breath. Eric was right.

Horatio wasn't going to like that at all.

To be continued.