Chapter 31

By the time Billie returned home it was indeed raining. She was escorted home by Mary and some other of her siblings. It was so easy for Jimmy to disappear and be completely absent from her life that she wondered how they had ever connected in the first place. However it had happened she was eternally grateful for it. She thought of him again, as she always did. They had planned a movie date for the following week. The details were loose but they had a general plan; it would change if Jimmy could reach her before. For whatever reason Billie was in a bright mood. It was a gloomy day and she didn't know when she'd speak to the man again but something was light in her step.

When stepping into the house she realized the changes that had happened to her simply from the last time she'd been there. Returning home had a way of putting things into perspective. Who she was when she left and what she did seemed like exterior things; this was the heart and nature of her. Now, after the course of events over the last few days, she noticed the big change. When Jimmy wasn't there things felt off. He had become something familiar and pleasant to her. When that was gone even home felt lonely.

Billie took off a wet coat and placed it on the coat rack near the front door to dry. Continuing she entered the kitchen, running her fingers through her damp hair. On the kitchen table were newspapers and she could picture one of her brothers studying it just before she had come home. Glancing to it she noticed it was not the same paper that she had looked at before at Mary's house. With mild curiosity she went to the table, flipping through the pages to see if they advertised the same picture shows. Upon one of the pages was a very large ad that caught her eye and something about it made her take a second glance. It was a wanted poster but what made Billie's heart stop was the picture attached to it.

It looked like Jimmy. Enough to make her glance again. However, this was John Herbert Dillinger. Under the loud and bold lettering she was able to read, "On June 23, 1934, Homer , Attorney General of the United States, under the authority vested in him by an Act of Congress approved June 6, 1934, offered a reward of $10,000.00 for the capture of John Herbert Dillinger, or a reward of $5,000.00 for information leading to the arrest of John Herbert Dillinger."

Under that was a small description- Build, medium; Hair, chestnut; Eyes, brown; Complexion, medium; Marks and scars, ½inch scar behind left hand.

Her heart was racing. She couldn't get over the strength of the resemblance. Even the information seemed right. Starting to become anxious she leaned closer toward the table, practically hovering just centimeters away from the photograph. One picture was straight on, the other a profile. The eyes, made of black granular ink, starred at her. She knew that gaze, although here it was harsh; strained. She knew the lines on the forehead as they pinched in anger. The other photo, the profile, made a funny kind of hurt catch in her throat. The line of the nose, the jaw, the sweep of hair...it was unmistakable. That was Jimmy, but was Jimmy John Dillinger?

Her eyes re-read the lettering over and over. The characteristics were the same. She remembered holding his hand and observing the mark- the half inch scar. At Mary's house, the first day she'd seen him, Audrey had called him "Jimmy Herbert." Billie started to become panicky. Was this all some horrible coincidence? She starred back at the photo. With manic kind of speed she began to recall everything. Anything. Mary told her he was that uncle that never visited much, and when he did it was in short spans. He spent money so freely- the dresses he bought, the meals he'd offered and the fancy restaurant. She could still hear his voice as he told her "I can buy you anything you want."

Harsh red lines had appeared in her eyes, the very brim of them also a fiery color and filling with liquid. Her body was reacting even before her mind comprehended. She remembered his dramatic and painful reaction every time she'd- now she realized, it was every time she said his name. Jimmy. It made perfect sense if she believed it. Wretchedly, she believed he was John Dillinger more than he was Jimmy Lawrence. What had happened, what was going on? There was just no denying it as she starred at his picture and put the pieces together.

She had been tricked. Betrayed. Cheated. The feeling of hurt was so profound she began to ache in places she wasn't even aware. She was biting her lip and it was trembling. Before anything else or before anyone could see her Billie snatched up the page of the newspaper and flew upstairs. Once in her room she locked the door and tears were already streaming down her face. Sound of pain left her, she clutching the paper and sinking to the floor. The man she was in love with was not who he said he was. He had lied to her. Everything was a sham.

Everything began to play over in her head from the beginning. When they had been close in the car the night he drove her home, was everything he said a lie? It hurt just to think about those times knowing how foolish and ignorant she had been, knowing that there was nothing honest about anything. She told him about her father, he said his own mother had passed away. Was that something he had actually lied about? It made her feel sick. All her vulnerability had been played upon, and for what? What did he even want with her if he was living a myth? If it was to be with her physically he'd succeeded and thinking of that intimacy made her stomach churn.

He'd told her he was married. Was he honest with that woman? Did she know? Had he created a whole marriage based on lies? She remembered him saying "how does it feel to be bad?" when she'd skipped school. Now it all sounded so cryptic. He was teasing her in a way she hadn't realized. The man was criminal, a thief, a robber, a conman. He was infamous. She had been close to him in every way and that alone made her nervous. How could she have been so close to a person and known nothing? She felt stupid and silly, embarrassed and naive.

Every second came a new wave of hurt and atrocity. There were so many questions. One moment she hated him, never wanted anything to do with him again, and in another she was heartbroken and longed for answers. The hurt she felt was paralyzing. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced and never wanted to again. If she wanted a confrontation she didn't know what would happen but knew that it would hurt more, and that was too much to handle. She thought about not taking action and how much all her guessing would also hurt. There was no easy or good way out. It was just bad and going to get worse.

That being the case, Billie was able to come to the decision that she would find him. They would have it out and he could do any number of things. Would he be scared, surprised, or would he simply threaten and throw her away? This man was John Dillinger and he was wanted with thousands of dollars in reward. In reality, Billie found that she had the upper hand. She could talk and ruin everything; she could ruin him like he'd done to her. It gave her an edge, but she didn't even consider ratting on him. It was just an option. A fact. She didn't even know if she wanted this fixed, if it could be, and stay with him. That idea was all too far away. It would all rest in their meeting.

She knew where he would be. Again she wondered why he'd done such a thing. Knowing his whereabouts was suddenly more serious than ever. It was astonishing to think this man was on the run and he was so clam; that no one, not even considering herself, had ever suspected. He would be at the apartment of which she had the address and telephone number. Billie had been crying for a good amount of time, so much so that she wasn't sure what time it was. Her face, her body and her heart all hurt. It hadn't even started yet. She picked herself up and managed to stifle the tears just long enough to leave her bedroom, throw on her coat and leave the house without a word.