by Carsen Taite
“Around the same time that her mother was diagnosed, her father, who was one of my law school professors, cut ties with the family and left town.”
“Does Ellen think he has something to do with the murders?”
Morgan looked startled. “No, no, not at all. But we do think he might have some information that would be helpful to your investigation. He shared this information with Ellen and she wants to share it with you.”
Danny drummed her fingers on the table. This entire exchange was not at all what she’d been expecting. So Morgan was here, not as a big shot criminal defense attorney, but as a family friend. Ellen’s only tie to the murders was information her father had. If that was the case, why was Morgan really here at all? She asked as much.
“She was nervous so she came to me for advice. She said you threatened her with some talk about filing charges. Interfering in an investigation?”
Danny’s face burned. “I was mad.”
“It’s hard when someone you care about isn’t entirely honest, but I can assure you she was only trying to protect her family who I can also assure you didn’t have anything to do with these terrible murders. In fact, I think her mother is likely to be one of the targets.”
Danny barely processed anything past “someone you care about.” Apparently, Morgan was enough of a family friend for Ellen to have shared the details of their relationship.
Relationship. There was that word again. “She told you.”
“She told me no details, but I’m pretty observant. I’d suggest you get some other ADA to sit in on the interview to keep a keen defense attorney from questioning your role, but frankly, I’m not sure she could get through the telling without you in the room as well. She’s had a rough couple of days. Remember, a killer was on her doorstep.”
Danny nodded. Morgan was a fierce adversary, but she trusted her and she was right. No matter what, Ellen was a victim too. She’d hear what Ellen had to say and she’d keep an open mind.
*
Ellen finished telling the story her father had relayed and waited for the inevitable questions. Morgan, George, Sarah, Danny, and the other assistant district attorney who’d joined them, Molly Howard, all seemed to be rendered speechless by her story.
Danny was the first to speak. “Do you need a break? Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, gentle. Ellen met her eyes and stayed locked there. She wasn’t okay, but she didn’t need a break. She needed something else—forgiveness, comfort—but she couldn’t ask for it here, not in front of all the others. She shook her head and broke the stare. “I’m okay, but can I have a glass of water?”
George stood and motioned for the rest of them to stay seated. When he placed a bottle of water in front of her, she took her time twisting off the cap, drinking deep, before she felt calm enough to face them all again.
Sarah asked the next question. “Your father didn’t know the woman’s name?”
“He said he didn’t. He only knew her by that stupid nickname. If it’s in the journals, he didn’t read that far before my mother took them away. I believe he was telling the truth about that. I’ve racked my brain, but back then we didn’t keep records of pledges who didn’t complete rush. The woman he talked about could be anyone who was enrolled at Richards University that year. We could ask women who were members of the sorority at that time. They might remember some names.”
“The ones we’ve talked to have been anything but cooperative,” George said. “Do you know where your mother’s journals are?”
“I don’t. I’ve searched my mother’s safe deposit box. I packed all the things she took to the home, so I know they aren’t there. If they were in the house at all, I’m sure I would’ve run across them when we packed her things.”
Danny leaned forward and placed a hand on her arm. “I hate to ask this, but may we search your house? There’s a chance you may have missed them. After all, you weren’t even aware they existed back then.”
“If you think it will help. Do you need me to be there?”
“It would help if you were nearby, so the police could ask you questions if they need to, during the search. I’ll be right there with you.”
Ellen met Danny’s eyes again. Not a trace of anger, not an ounce of distrust, only compassion. And strength. She drew it in. “Okay, I’ll go. Let’s do it now, before I lose my nerve.”
Everyone stood and filed out, leaving the two of them standing in the room. Ellen saw Morgan, Sarah, and Molly, waiting just outside the door, acting as if they weren’t listening in. Danny waited beside her, expectantly.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Danny said. “I’m sorry. I was so harsh on you.”
She looked at Molly. “Is she replacing you on the case?”
Danny followed her gaze. “She’s helping. You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not off the case, no matter what happens.”
“I feel like I really messed things up.” Ellen willed Danny to know she wasn’t just talking about the case.
“You didn’t. I’m just glad you’re safe. We’ll get the journals, we’ll find out who this woman is, and Sarah and George will make an arrest. Whoever did these murders, whoever threatened you, will go away for the rest of her life.”
Danny’s goals were so simple, so true. And none of them included anything outside of solving the case. She had no right to expect they would. In their every interaction, Danny had been exactly as she’d appeared. Not a bit of subterfuge. The attraction, the caring, the openness, all of it had been real, genuine. She clearly still cared, but her concern had morphed from that of a passionate lover to a pitying caretaker.
She didn’t need pity and she didn’t need a caretaker. At least she didn’t need those things from Danny. Ellen struggled into a smile. “I’m not worried. Not with a herd of police and FBI here to watch out for me.” She walked to the door and said, “I’ll ride with Morgan so you don’t have to worry about carting me around if I’m ready to leave before you are.”
Morgan nodded and Ellen followed her out of the station without a backward glance, unable to bear the prospect of seeing relief on Danny’s face now that their acquaintance was drawing to a close.
*
Ellen sat in her car, watching the police swarm her parents’ house. She’d made Morgan drop her off at the hotel so she could retrieve her car. When she’d run up to her room to get the keys, she found a note from her father. He’d returned to Chicago that morning, despite her entreaty to him to stay. The police were going to want to talk to him, she was certain of that, but she decided that was their problem. She was tired of being left to pick up the pieces of her parents’ failures.
Danny stood on the sidewalk, directly in front of the house. Several times Sarah, George, and Molly had come over to discuss some matter with her and they’d huddled in conversation. She looked completely in her element and Ellen wondered if she had the same blend of ease and command in the courtroom. Probably. Juries likely loved her sincerity, her passion. She certainly did. But she’d risked it all to keep a secret, one she never would’ve kept had she known the depths of the deceit she’d helped hide. It was one thing to think she’d been shielding her sick mother from unnecessary attention, but she’d unwittingly harbored a dangerous truth that may have brought death in its wake. She’d chosen poorly, but to her credit she hadn’t had all the information. Now Danny had all the information she needed about her, her family, and their past, and she couldn’t blame her for choosing to walk away.
“Ellen?”
She looked up to see the foursome headed her way. George spoke first. “Our teams have looked everywhere. Any secret compartments or hidden rooms, anything like that we might be missing?”
“The wine cellar is the only place in the house I know that’s not readily visible to a visitor.”
“If they’re not here, do you have an idea of where they might be?”
Ellen shook her head. She didn’t have a clue. Only one
person knew where the journals were and she wasn’t capable of telling them. Or was she? Vivian did have moments when she seemed present, but whether they’d be able to coax specific answers to specific questions was a gamble, and not completely without risk. Patterson had warned that pushing Vivian on her memory could have the unintended consequence of driving her deeper into forgetfulness. No one really knew whether the effects were long lasting, making it impossible to assess the risk. But what if her mother could tell them where the journals were? What if the journals led them to the killer? What if lives were saved?
It was time to start taking risks, to think about the bigger picture. She’d held back before out of concern for her mother, but those other women who might be on the killer’s list deserved her concern as well. And if it turned out that the killer was Pledge Thirteen, and her mother had set this whole ordeal in motion, well, this was her chance to make it right.
Unconcerned about what the others might think, she reached for Danny’s hand, and when Danny’s fingers curled tightly into hers, she drew the strength to say, “Let’s go talk to my mother. I think it’s time we get some answers.”
Chapter Twenty
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Mrs. Patterson stood at the front of the visiting room with her hands on her hips. Danny, Molly, Sarah, and George sat with Ellen, watching as she considered their proposal. “Asking her a bunch of questions about the past isn’t likely to get you any usable information, and it could do more harm than good.” She looked prepared to do battle to protect her ward.
Danny started to speak, but Ellen held up a hand. “How is she?” It was still early in the day and she hoped they’d managed to get here in time to catch her mother during a good spell.
“She’s good, but what you’re proposing could drive her deep inside. Is that really something you want to risk?”
Ellen slumped in her chair. She’d spent the last year taking care of her mother’s every need, keeping her secrets. Now it was time for her mother to do something for her and for all of the women who might be in danger. Was she selfish for demanding reciprocity?
Danny spoke up. “What if we don’t question her about the past? What if we only ask where she put the journals? If the information we need is in there, then we may not need to talk to her, at least not right away.”
Mrs. Patterson cocked her head as if considering the idea. “That might work, but all of you can’t be in the room. Too many strangers will only confuse her. Ellen, I think the questions would work best coming from you. One other person and no more.”
Ellen looked around the room. She knew everyone there wanted to be the first to get whatever information her mother could provide, but she didn’t care about what they wanted. Right now, all she cared about was her own need to have someone in her corner, and she knew exactly who she hoped that someone would be.
Danny read her mind. “I’ll go with you.”
Ellen nodded her thanks, scared if she said anything it would be too infused with emotion. She turned to Mrs. Patterson. “Do you know where she is now?”
“She’s out in the garden. She’s spent a lot of time out there since you were here last. I suppose she finds it soothing. Come with me. I’ll show you.”
They both followed Mrs. Patterson out to the balcony where Ellen had visited with her mother the day she learned of Marty Lawson’s death. Danny joined her at the rail and, as their fingers brushed together, Ellen nearly melted into Danny’s embrace. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be on the front line of figuring out her mother’s role in this tragedy, but she drew strength from Danny’s presence. As Mrs. Patterson gazed out over the balcony, she turned and whispered, “Thank you.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Danny said as she squeezed her hand.
If only she meant what Ellen needed her to mean.
“There she is.” Mrs. Patterson pointed to the same spot Vivian had pointed out that night, the one that had her so agitated. Ellen gasped at the sight of her prim and proper mother, dressed in gardening boots and a hat, planting a rose bush. She’d never seen her mother performing any kind of menial labor, especially not something where she could get her hands dirty. “When you said she was spending time in the garden, this is not at all what I thought you meant.”
“She’s been quite vigorous about it. Even insisted on exactly what plants should be where. Her doctor was so happy to see her exhibiting enthusiasm for something, that we ordered whatever she wanted, even a stone plaque naming the garden. She did insist on paying for that herself and we took it out of her incidental fund. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’m just amazed to see her actually doing the work herself. Should we wait until she’s done?”
“You’ll have to wait until sundown if that’s the case. She tends to be at her best when she’s in the garden. Why don’t you join her down there and see if you can bring up the topic of her journals. Gently. And I’ll be nearby in case you need me.”
“Thank you.” Ellen waited until Mrs. Patterson walked away before she faced Danny. “You ready for this?”
“Are you?”
“I wouldn’t have thought I was ready for anything that’s happened in the last week, but I’m still standing.”
“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”
“I’m okay. I’ve had a whole lifetime to get used to hiding truths.” And hiding feelings, she thought, but didn’t say.
“It’s taken its toll.”
Danny’s tone was sad, and despite the fact she didn’t hear any recrimination, she knew she owed her an apology. “Danny, I’m so sorry. I never meant to lie to you. I had no idea—”
Danny gripped her hand. “Stop. We’re good. I’m the one who crossed the line between personal and professional and I owe you the apology. I never would’ve been so emotional about you keeping information from us if we hadn’t…” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, we’re good now. Let’s go talk to your mother. Okay?”
Ellen nodded. Danny may be good, but she was far from it. The best thing she could do would be to get this over with as quickly as possible, so she and Danny could go their separate ways.
*
Even in a garden hat, boots, and gloves, Danny could see that Vivian Davenport was an older, not quite as beautiful, version of her daughter Ellen. Where Ellen’s lines were sophisticated, Vivian’s were harsh. And her eyes were sharp, hard, not warm and inviting like her daughter’s.
On the walk from the balcony, they’d decided that Ellen would take the lead. She’d introduce Danny as an old friend, hoping to make contact with one of Vivian’s sorority sisters. That was as far as they’d planned since they didn’t have any idea how far they would be able to get. Although their talk had been confined to how to handle the discussion with Vivian, Danny wasn’t immune to the increased tension between them. They had both assumed their roles, she as attorney, Ellen as witness, but the feelings they’d shared still lay unresolved between them. Danny wanted to talk about it, but fear kept her quiet. Ellen had gone through, was still going through, a scary ordeal, and she showed no signs of wanting to reconnect in that way. Danny resisted the urge to interpret her need for comfort as a need for something more.
“Mother, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Her name is Danielle Soto.”
Vivian smiled and waved a small trowel at them both. “A pleasure to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but as you can see…” She looked down at her mud-covered glove and giggled. Danny shot a glance at Ellen who looked shocked at the display, and she decided Vivian wasn’t normally much of a giggler. Things didn’t look good for a coherent conversation. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Davenport. You have a lovely garden.”
“Indeed. I have worked very hard to maintain it. Do you like the begonias?”
Danny followed the direction of her pointed trowel. She wouldn’t know a begonia if it bit her in the ass. She only knew what a trowel was because Mama Soto made her and her brother
s work in the yard to earn allowance when they were growing up. She’d been relegated to raking leaves since she couldn’t be trusted to know a weed from a plant about to bloom. She cast a look at Ellen who subtly pointed at a clump of red blooms. She nodded. “Yes, ma’am, those are a beautiful red. They’ll look nice with the white roses.”
Vivian winked and pointed at Ellen. “Marty thinks I’m crazy to plant the roses here, but I think it’s a brilliant way to remember where I put them. I have trouble remembering everything I need to these days.”
Her self-revelation was sad, but Danny forced a smile while she tried to decipher Vivian’s statement. Vivian returned the smile and then dug back into her work. Ellen tapped Danny on the shoulder and mouthed “Marty” as she pointed at her own chest. It took a few seconds, but then realized that Vivian thought Ellen was Marty Lawson, her long time, now dead friend. But she still didn’t get the other part of what she’d said, “It’s a brilliant way to remember where I put them.” What was the “them”?
While she considered what to say next, Ellen circled the garden plot, stopping when she reached the stone plaque in the far corner. Ellen stiffened as she stared at the ground, and Danny could feel anxiety coming off her in waves. She rushed over to her side and followed her gaze. The rectangular marble plaque was about a foot long and half a foot wide. Just big enough to contain a simple phrase, the name Vivian Davenport had chosen for her special garden. Thirteen Roses.
Ellen turned into her arms and Danny moved them a few steps away from the garden, holding her close. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
“I have to get out of here. I can’t handle this.”
Danny leaned back and looked into her eyes. She wanted to leave with Ellen, take her home, curl up in bed with her, and hold her until her fears subsided. But she couldn’t. Molly may ultimately replace her on the case, but she was still a member of this task force. She had work to do, a case to solve, and she wouldn’t leave here until she got some answers. “I understand, but promise me you won’t leave on your own. Sarah and George can get someone to drive you to wherever you are staying, keep you safe.” As much as she wanted to be that person, she knew this was best. Ellen needed to get away from here, and Danny needed to stay if she wanted to find out what was going on.
