Читать книгу Murder In The Heartland - M. William Phelps - Страница 12

Nearly two hundred miles south, in eastern-central Kansas, the day hadn’t started out so warm and inviting. When she awoke, a cold snap lingered in the house.

Getting dressed, she put on one of her oversized bulky sweaters, a pair of baggy blue jeans, sneakers, and glasses. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Her heavy winter coat was downstairs on a kitchen chair. She could grab it on the way out.

As usual, she sat by herself at the dining table, forgoing coffee for what many later agreed was an “addiction to Pepsi.” Then, staring out the window, she lit a Marlboro, because she knew her husband had left for work already. Like a lot of things in her life, she’d been hiding her affair with nicotine from him.

Her two daughters and son slept upstairs. She had told her husband the night before she was “getting up early to go shopping” in Topeka, but the kids had no idea she was awake. It was close to five in the morning. If she wasn’t working one of her three part-time jobs, there wasn’t a chance she’d be up so early.

After stubbing out her cigarette, she walked upstairs into her oldest daughter’s room and sat on the edge of the bed, as she did on most mornings. She and Rebecca^* were close, like best friends. They talked about things she wouldn’t consider sharing with her other children, and unquestionably not her husband.

“What are you doing today, Mom?” asked Rebecca. She was muzzy and worn-out, having just awakened. Seventeen-year-old Rebecca and her mother had gone shopping for baby clothes several times over the past few months. Her mother was “excited” about being pregnant and wanted to share the experience with her oldest. “You’ll have children of your own one day,” she told Rebecca more than once as they browsed through racks of clothes, baby rattles, and toys.

Sitting quietly, she brushed Rebecca’s hair away from her eyes with her right hand and stared at her for a brief time. In almost a whisper, “I’m going shopping in Topeka,” she responded.

Everyone in the family was under the impression her due date had passed the previous Monday, December 13, and she was going to have the child any day now.

“Shopping might get things going,” she continued when Rebecca didn’t respond. “I need to pick up something for Kayla, anyway.”

Kayla was the baby of the family. She didn’t live at the house anymore. She was staying with a friend in Georgia.

At fourteen years old, Kayla was pretty much the free thinker of the four kids. She wasn’t a submissive conformist, like so many children her own age, ready to accept anything anybody told her. Nor was she one of those kids that fell into, say, the “Goth” movement at school because it was the latest fad. Kayla thought about things thoroughly and made her own decisions. Her independent way of thinking had landed Kayla in Georgia, hundreds of miles away from her mother, stepfather, and siblings.

On August 25, 2004, exactly one week after her birthday, she bid farewell to everyone. First she went to Texas to stay with a fellow rat-terrier breeder for a couple days so she could attend a dog show there before traveling on.

Kayla referred to the woman she moved in with in Georgia as “Auntie,” she said, out of “Southern respect,” but Mary Timmeny, “Auntie M,” as Kayla and others referred to her, was a friend of the family, and had introduced Kayla to her passion: raising, breeding, and showing rat terriers. Mary had invited Kayla to spend a few weeks with her in Georgia during the summer of 2004 so she could teach her how to train her dogs and ready them for the dog show circuit. Kayla’s father, Carl Boman, was amazed his ex-wife had agreed to it. As Carl viewed the situation, Mary was a stranger, someone Kayla’s mother had met only a few times. Carl was beside himself with anger that his ex-wife had allowed Kayla to spend part of her summer with someone so far away.

Kayla’s mother had custody, though. Carl couldn’t do much about it, even if he wanted.

“So, in July,” said Kayla, “I went out there for three weeks and got to go to two dog shows and showed dogs in both of those shows.”

Kayla met her mother at a Lexington, Kentucky, dog show after the three-week sabbatical was over and went back home to Kansas.

A while later, Auntie Mary called. “I miss you,” she said.

“I miss you, too.”

“Would you like to come back and spend a few months with me here in Georgia?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” replied Kayla. She was “really excited” about it. It was all she had thought about since leaving.

“Don’t tell your sisters, though, Kayla. Okay?” said Auntie Mary. She didn’t want Kayla’s mother to hear about it until she had a chance to talk to her herself.

“I won’t,” said Kayla.

“I’ll talk to your mom soon about it. Okay?”

“Sure.”

The plan was for Kayla to spend part of the school year with Mary in Georgia. She and Mary had hit it off during the three weeks that summer. Mary noticed a drive in Kayla and a natural reserve around the dogs she believed could be beneficial to Kayla on the dog show circuit, if only she had someone to keep her focused on the dynamics of training, which her mother, Kayla said, wanted no part of.

Kayla and Mary missed each other. Their feelings went beyond a mutual interest in the dogs to include love, affection, friendship. Kayla and Mary had bonded. For Kayla, it was like starting over. Her life had been filled with turmoil for a long time, what with the problems between her mother and father and between her mother and stepfather. Living in the structure of a solid family would allow her some much-deserved space and tranquillity. She wouldn’t have to listen to her mother talk bad about her father. Or scream at her new husband when he failed to do what she wanted. Nor would she have to suffer when she felt torn between siblings siding with Mom or Dad. Not to mention Mom’s obsession lately with having another child.

“You’re going to miss Mom having her baby,” one of Kayla’s siblings said to her after hearing Kayla was leaving.

“I’ll be back for it,” promised Kayla.

Kayla was looking forward to the calming effect living with Mary would provide—something that had never existed in her short life.

At first, Kayla’s mother didn’t think it was a good idea for her to leave.

“Can I go, Mom?”

“I’ll think about it,” said her mother.

“When will you let me know?”

“You should probably forget it.”

“Come on, Mom. Please?”

“I’ll think about it, Kayla.”

Then Rebecca stepped in, and “after much persuasion by her,” recalled Kayla, “Mom finally agreed to it.”

So, based on Rebecca’s recommendation, shortly after the conversation, Kayla was sitting in her mom’s car on her way to Georgia. Staying for “part of the school year,” as Mary had suggested, turned into Kayla’s spending the entire first quarter. But it was okay with Kayla; she was at ease with her new life. She enjoyed not being around the dysfunction and disorder back home. She was, one could say, her own person.

As Rebecca stretched, trying to pay attention, her mother got up off the bed and walked toward the door. Before opening it, she turned. “I want to get Kayla something special this Christmas. She’s been gone so long. I miss her. Do you know what she wants?”

“No, not really, Mom,” answered Rebecca.

“Okay, then. You go back to sleep. I’ll call you later.”

She took one last look at Rebecca and closed the door.