Chapter 34

It was true that Mary Frechette had not seen her daughter in days. Assuming Billie had been hiding upstairs in her bedroom since she had been home Mary wasn't worried. The panic set in when she went to retrieve her daughter for dinner. She was not in her bedroom. She wasn't in the yard and none of her siblings had seen her. Mary had the notion to call the authorities but waited. Where would Billie be if not home or school? The answer was obvious. Mary Hancock's house, her best friend. The woman walked swiftly to the telephone.

After the call had been processed she stood waiting, her heart beating fast. Few rings went through before the call had been answered, another woman speaking. "Audrey? This is Mary. I'm looking for Billie, she's not here. Is she still at your house? Did she leave?"

In the other home Audrey listened to the panicked mother. Her senses, her instinct, heightened. Billie was missing but the girl had left her home earlier that day. She knew where she was. Thinking fast and making quick decisions Audrey told the woman to wait just a second while she searched her home. She put the phone down and did go look for her daughter and when she found her she asked if Billie were still there, but the answer was no as she knew it would be. She searched no where else. Instead she paced in front of the phone another few moments.

When she answered she lied. She told Mary her daughter was there, that she'd wanted to stay another day and feared asking because she was sure her mother would object. It was hard for Mary to believe, wondering what could be so exciting there and if the Hancock family was not irritated with Billie's continual presence. Audrey assured her it was fine, that she would be home the next day after school. When they hung up Audrey dropped her head into her hands. She had to make another call, this one to her brother.

- - -

John's eyes had fluttered shut when Billie kissed his cheek. She knew what she was doing and her tender touch was just what he needed. For the first time that night he started to feel lighter. They couldn't possibly be doomed when they both had such love for one another. Of this he was sure. His shoulders were relaxing and the moment didn't seem so dangerous any more. Slowly, it was already getting better. Then, a shrill sound was heard throughout the apartment. The couple looked up. The phone was ringing.

Very few people knew how to reach him there in the apartment. One of them was right there with him and the others were next door. It was curious, but it didn't matter. John wasn't going to get up. He closed his eyes again and leaned into Billie. She understood, kissing his hair. The ringing continued annoyingly to the very last moment, but they weren't going to be disturbed. However, not a minute passed in the silence when the phone was ringing again. John huffed but remained still.

"It's alright. Go," Billie whispered, pulling back. John took his time getting to his feet and walking across the room but the noise persisted. His body felt loose and heavy. He reached for the phone and his hand wavered, his voice a whole other sound than what he was familiar with.

"John. It's Audrey," the voice began.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

"Nothing's wrong. Billie's mother just phoned here." He was quiet a moment, acting as though this were nothing, but his silence also told Audrey everything she needed to hear. "I know about Billie, John. She's there with you, isn't she?"

"W-what? How did-"

"Don't deny it. Listen, her mother was going to get the police involved. I don't know what's going on but you're being sloppy. Get your act together, John! I covered for you this time, but you get that girl home tomorrow, after school. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you."

His words were expressionless. Hanging up the phone he turned and looked to Billie. She was still sitting on the floor, looking small and tired. In the last several seconds things were suddenly different. He felt shaky and confused, like his control over everything was only just starting to unravel. Billie's eyes were waiting, wanting to hear what had happened. He went back to her slowly.

"Your mother was looking for you." She went even more pale. "Audrey told a lie...she's expecting you back home tomorrow."

These words were a shocking realization to her as well. Now she understood just how dangerous things were to John. Her mother was only looking for her daughter but if she had looked she would have found a hardened criminal. It was clear Audrey knew of them, or she knew something, and that too was an adjustment. Billie asked John how, why, anything. He was at a loss himself but their lies were quickly coming undone. There was too much to process. John bent close to her again, this time reaching his arm out. With his help Billie stood to her feet and the two embraced.

"Let's go sit down," he suggested, taking her hand and bringing her into the living room. There the two of them fell heavily upon the couch, snuggled into a far corner. They were laying on one another, their hands entwining together as they so often did. Billie watched as their fingers twirled, noticing again the mark on the back of his hand.

"They mentioned your scar," she told him quietly. He knew who "they" were and didn't need to ask. "How did you get it?"

Keeping with the gentle tone, John told Billie that when he was young he worked in a machine shop. An accident had occurred one day as he attempted to fix parts in a lathe. There had been lots of blood, and had the injury been any deeper or centimeters in a different direction the injury could have been much worse. He felt lucky to have gone away merely with a scar. There were still many questions Billie needed to ask, things she needed to hear.

"We've got all night," he told her, his fingers tracing her reddened cheek. His hand lingered still, touching a dark strand of her hair. It hung stringy and damp. He wondered if she were cold but she no longer shivered.

He started from the beginning. John Dillinger hadn't always been an infamous name and he wasn't born with a gun in his hand. However, he was still a young man when his rebellion broke loose. Perhaps it was due partly to his father who thought a heavy whipping would prosper over any other disciplinary action, but John didn't want to give the old man too much credit. Admittedly he was wild and it was easy to assume the man didn't know how to handle him. He was also perpetually girl-crazy, getting him in more trouble than he needed.

He'd stolen a car and attempted to run when the word got out, but even when he landed himself in the Navy he couldn't get away. He left the USS Utah when she docked in Boston. Ultimately what sent him to jail was a grocery store heist where he was charged with assault and battery against the grocer. It was a stupid mistake, he was able to admit, but it had changed his life and was just one of the steps that led him to his place in the present. He served eight years between the Indiana State Prison in Michigan City and the Allen County Jail in Lima though he had been sentenced for more time. It was in prison that he met many members of his gang, they planning robberies and escapes long in advance to their release, starting with the breakout from Lima.

Listening to everything he had done, Billie was thinking heavily. His actions were wrong. She had been taught in many ways that lying, stealing and cheating were wrong. Even though she knew this she couldn't see John as a villain or the wicked criminal society made him out to be. He was good deep down in his heart; he could love, and he did so fully. Despite what she had been taught and what she knew, she didn't hate him; she couldn't even bring herself not to like him. It was the ultimate conundrum and one she would never understand.

Being so close to corruption she began to analyze her past actions with John to see if she was a criminal herself. Surely she was, at least by default. Was loving him a crime all by itself? She studied his face, soft as it was now that they had calmed down but still swelled by their previous outburst. She decided then that she didn't care. What she cared about was him. She dared to gaze at him and think that he was everything now; he was life. If that made her wrong too then she was guilty. She was gladly, fully guilty.