Room for Doubt

by Nancy Cole Silverman

  “Sometimes.” Merry nodded her head, the only part of her body that moved voluntarily. “But we don’t expect her today. At least not until the dust settles.”

  “What dust?” I asked.

  “That hit and run in Westwood a couple weeks back?” Nan’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Caty Beardsley?” The name slipped out before I realized I said it. Some stories you never forget. Caty Beardsley was one. I was in the studio the night she was killed. With a daughter only a few years younger and with the same name, it all hit a little too close to home.

  “You knew her?” Nan asked.

  “No. Just the name. It was everywhere in the news. Pretty young girl getting run down in Westwood like that. Awful.”

  “She was one of ours,” B said.

  “We’re not supposed to use real names, but it’d be hard not to. It’s okay online, but in person when we meet, it happens.”

  “And that poor girl. We all knew her story. Her boyfriend wouldn’t leave her alone. Kept stalking her. She met with us a couple of times before Sally introduced her to her tribunal.”

  “But her rescue didn’t go off as planned.” Merry’s eyes scanned the room, suspicious of anyone who might be eavesdropping.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  B spoke up. “Sally tried to help, but Caty’s boyfriend got to her first. Maybe you heard, she died a couple days ago in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, but not before Sally got him,” Nan said. “That body the cops found on the Hollywood Sign? He was ours.”

  I had to work hard not to show my surprise. “Caty Beardsley? That was her boyfriend?”

  I would never have put the two together. I had assumed Caty’s death was another hit and run. A young woman crossing one of LA’s busy streets at night and run down by a passing motorist. It had never occurred to me there might’ve been a connection. I thought back to my last conversation with Sally. She had shared with me she had suffered a loss, someone she was helping. Could that have been Caty? On top of her son’s death, the pain and guilt had to be unbearable. No wonder she had been calling the station. In her own way, I felt she was crying out for help.

  “That man put that poor girl through hell. He used to beat her, but not so the bruises would show. And when she finally got strong enough to leave, he killed her. We all knew it. We were going to go to the hospital and stage a demonstration. Demand he be arrested. But we had no proof. Sally told us we needed to be patient. If we went public, it would have spoiled everything. Do more damage than good, and even if he was arrested, without any hard evidence, he’d be out of jail and do it again.”

  “That’s why Sally’s not here? Because Caty died?”

  “There were other issues as well. Sally hasn’t been herself lately. It’s caused a rift in the organization. Which is why Sally and her tribunals are lying low for a while. They’ll be back, but right now, it’s just us Butterflies. The survivors, supporting one another best we can.”

  “But if it were a matter of life and death, and I had to get hold of Sally, you must know of a way? Maybe you have a number or some way to get her a message?”

  The women looked at each other, then back at me. Then Merry said, “I’m sorry. If we had a number for Sally, we couldn’t give it to you. Not that we wouldn’t want to, but we can’t be too careful. I’m sure you understand. But if you’re in need of help, a place to go, we can offer you shelter.”

  “No. It’s not shelter I need, it’s Sally. She’s the only one who can help me. If you see her, or if she calls, tell her DumpedAndDepressed needs her. Tell her I’m in danger. That I’m afraid something bad is about to happen. I’m desperate.”

  I stood up and walked out of the restaurant. Sheri would have been proud of me. I was becoming quite the actress.

  CHAPTER 34

  I hoped my brief encounter with the Butterflies was enough for them to relay my message to Sally if they could. For the moment, it was the closest contact I had, and all I could do was cross my fingers and pray.

  On the drive home, I took Jennifer’s cell phone out of my bag and placed it on the empty seat next to me. If I could have willed it to ring, I would have. But it sat silently while my mind raced back to my brief encounter with Bruno that morning in the grocery store. What a jerk. If I was right, it had been less than forty-eight hours since he’d run Caty Beardsley down and left her crumpled body on the street. And by the time I met him, he was already trying to pick up some new woman. No wonder a former abuse victim like Mustang Sally had taken it upon herself to administer justice.

  I could even appreciate why Sally had sympathizers like Riley, who had risked his career to look the other way. Restraining orders. Convictions. They were seldom enough to ensure a victim’s safety or sanity. Wasn’t that what Detective Riley was trying to tell me when he told me to leave it alone? He knew Bruno’s death wasn’t a suicide, but a murder. The more I thought about it, the more my sense of justice wavered.

  I stopped at a red light and tuned to the station. Tyler was doing a top of the hour news update, and the story caught my attention. The LA City Council was launching a new hit-and-run alert system. Last year, the number of the hit-and-runs, including vehicles and pedestrians, had exceeded twenty thousand. Most of them had been property damage, but one hundred and forty-four of them had resulted in pedestrian deaths. Too bad such a program wasn’t in place before Caty Beardsley had been hit. Perhaps if it had, things might have been different. Maybe Bruno wouldn’t have gotten away with it. But then, if he hadn’t, Sally might never have called the station. The light changed, and my thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of Jennifer’s cell.

  I pulled over to the side of the road. The caller ID was blocked. Had one of the Butterflies made contact with Sally? I swallowed hard and answered, doing my best to soften my voice and sound more like my impersonation of Jennifer.

  “Hello?”

  “Jennifer, I know you’re worried.” The voice that came back was Sally’s, raw and raspy like she was straining to speak. “And I apologize for our last meeting. I’m afraid my tribunal’s frightened.”

  “I need your help.”

  There was a pause. I closed my eyes and prayed she’d agree to meet me. Just one more time, that’s all I needed.

  Then finally, what must have been seconds but felt like forever, she said, “Saturday night. Eight o’clock. Point Fermin. The lighthouse, on the south side. There’s a section for weddings marked Area Two. Make sure it’s Area Two. And bring Jason with you. We’ll take a little walk out on the trail, overlooking the ocean. But remember, Jennifer, tell no one where you’re going.”

  Sally hung up, and the dial tone droned in my ear like an empty echo. But this time, rather than feeling disconnected, I felt elated. I had made contact with Sally. A surge of adrenalin coursed through my veins. Any uncertainty about what I was doing went quickly from doubt to determination. Knowing what Bruno had done to Caty, and what Mustang Sally had risked to avenge the damaged lives of people like her, steeled my nerves. I needed to save Sally. To stop her before she sabotaged herself with any more calls to the station, speaking carelessly about her mission and her tribunal. I needed to find her before Chase found her and turned her over to the police, or even worse, the police found her, and she disappeared. DJ had promised to help Sally as she had once helped her. Maybe there was a fresh start in her future. I didn’t know. Only that finding Sally was no longer about saving my job. I was on a mission of justice, and nobody and nothing was going to deter me.

  CHAPTER 35

  I needed to talk to DJ. Not just on the phone, but in person. Instead of choosing the freeway to drive home, I took surface streets back to the station, thinking of exactly what I could tell her and of all the things that could possibly go wrong.

  The idea of meeting Sally on the cliffs above Point Fermin sent chills down my spine. The cliffs had a gho
ulish history. The steep, rock-hewn embankment could be deadly. In 1929, a landslide had tumbled a neighborhood of homes into the sea. Locals referred to the area as the Sunken City. Beneath the cliffs, large chunks of concrete, now scarred with graffiti, were mixed with the rocks and the crashing surf like tombstones. A few determined palm trees that had once peacefully lined the streets shot up from beneath the rubble as though they were flowers on a grave. Like a magnet, the park drew lovers and curiosity seekers. Some who leaped to their deaths or ventured too close to the cliffs’ slippery edge. Ignoring the warning signs and falling hundreds of feet below to a rocky grave.

  As I pulled into the station’s lot, I had one final thought. What if Sally got wise to my plan and pushed me off the cliff? Or we struggled, and I accidentally pushed her? I couldn’t allow my fears to cloud my thinking. I had a job to do. And the fewer people who knew what that job was, the better. Choosing to keep a low profile, I slipped into a parking space behind the station where Tyler wouldn’t spot my Jeep and glanced at my watch: 9:35. With a little luck, I could catch DJ after her Monday morning staff meeting, and nobody would know I was here.

  I used the station’s back entrance, carefully entering the security code so as to not set off the alarm. Then checked to make sure the hallway was empty before sneaking into one of the empty production studios. I waited there in the dark, behind the gray-tinted glass, until I saw Tyler leave DJ’s office. Once he passed, I slipped down the hall, tapped softly on her open door, and peered inside. She was standing behind her desk, stacks of papers in front of her.

  “DJ? You got a minute?”

  She glanced up at me then to the clock. The concern on her face matched what I was feeling. Her tone was cautious. “Come in, Carol. Close the door behind you.”

  I took a seat in front of her desk and didn’t wait to be asked why I was there. “I got a call from Mustang Sally. We’re on for a meet.”

  DJ sat down, her eyes fixed on mine. “Go on.”

  “Saturday night. Point Fermin Park in San Pedro. You familiar with the area?”

  “The cliffs, huh?” DJ sat back and crossed her arms. “You think she’ll show up this time and not run away?”

  “Hopefully.”

  “We can’t lose her this time, Carol. We’re not going to get a third chance. Somebody’s going to get wise to her, and when they do—”

  “I know. But I’ve got a plan.”

  DJ leaned forward in her chair and put her elbows on the desk. “All right. I’m listening.”

  I took my laptop from my bag and pulled up a map for Point Fermin. Placing it on the desk in front of her, I positioned it as though she were looking at the park from the street side, peering out at the ocean. Standing up, I pointed out the lighthouse in the center of the map and the two wedding areas on either side. Wedding Area One was on the right of the Lighthouse, the south side. Wedding Area Two was to the left, on the north side.

  “Wedding Area One,” I said, tapping the position on the map, “is where I want to meet you at exactly eight thirty.” I paused, making sure she had the exact location. What I didn’t tell DJ was that Sally had asked me to meet her with Jason at exactly eight o’clock at Wedding Area Two. Thirty minutes earlier. Timing was going to be imperative. I took a deep breath and continued. “I told Sally I would meet her there. And when I do, I’ll tell her she has an old friend who contacted me via my show and needs her help. That friend, of course, will be you.”

  I looked at the map again. The distance between the two wedding areas was enough that in the dark of night we wouldn’t be seen. And with a little luck, I could make this all work to my advantage. DJ thought Sally was expecting to meet me, Carol Childs. She knew nothing about my plan to assume Jennifer’s identity or that I had been using Chase to help me find Sally. Or even more worrisome, that I was considering asking him to act as Jennifer’s fiancé, Jason. As to how I was going to do that and keep Chase from ever seeing Sally, I hadn’t a clue. But with thirty minutes to spare between meetings, I figured somehow, something would work out. One step at a time, I told myself.

  “Only one problem with all this, Carol.”

  “What’s that?” My heart felt like a giant claw was starting to squeeze it tight.

  “You can’t use my name. Sally won’t know me as DJ.”

  “No?” Is that all it was? I took a deep breath and the claw squeezing my heart released. “When we met, she knew me as Doris Jean. It wasn’t until later that I shortened it to DJ.”

  “You think she’ll remember you?”

  “I’m pretty sure she will.”

  “Good, then that’s the plan. You’ll meet me with Sally at Point Fermin, at Wedding Area One, on the south side of the lighthouse, at eight thirty, and I’ll introduce you as Doris Jean” I pointed again to the area where we would meet. “Just make sure it’s the south side.”

  DJ scribbled something in her notebook, then looked back at me as though she were about to dismiss me. “Anything else?”

  I closed my laptop and held it in my arms against my chest. “Before we go any further, there is something I need to know.”

  “What is it?”

  “Once I deliver Sally to you, what are you going to do? Where will you take her? I realize you think the less I know, the better, but the fact is, I’m risking something here too. If Sally escapes or something happens, there’s no guarantee she’s not going to start calling the station again or maybe get picked up, and suddenly I’m an accessory to a crime.”

  “You don’t have to worry, Carol. Where’s she going, it’s not likely she’d escape or want to, for that matter.”

  “Why? Where are you taking her?”

  DJ paused and put the notebook down on the desk. “There’s a safe house on one of the islands in Hawaii. I won’t tell you which island, only that it’s in a remote location, very secure. The locals think it’s a rehab facility. In truth, it’s a secure complex with ten-foot walls, security cameras, and staff like that at a five-star hotel. I spent some time there when I was in hiding. You don’t need to worry, Carol. She’ll be well taken care of.”

  “How will I know she got there okay?”

  DJ picked up the notebook, scribbled something onto one of the pages, then handed it to me. “This is the same number I gave you last time. You need to wait at least twelve hours, then call this number. Ask if the package Doris Jean delivered has arrived. You’ll get your answer.”

  I stared at the number in my hand, then got up from my seat. “Okay. ’Til Saturday.”

  I headed to the door, and when I got there, I heard DJ. “Carol, one more thing.” I turned and looked back at her. “Just so you know, I’m glad it was you and your show Mustang Sally reached out to.”

  “Me too.”

  CHAPTER 36

  I waited outside DJ’s office until I was certain the hallway was clear. Per his usual morning ritual, Tyler had gone back to the newsroom and grabbed the newspaper. I watched as he headed to the men’s room, then took my leave. Quietly slipping down the hallway and out the station’s back door. When I got to the car, I picked up my cell and called Sheri.

  “You got time for coffee? We need to talk.”

  “Have you forgotten?”

  “About what?”

  “Our coffee klatch at eleven. Did Misty forget to tell you?”

  “She’s been forgetting to tell me a lot lately.”

  “She suggested since you’re home Mondays, we have coffee together. Or in her case, tea. Where are you anyway?”

  “I had a meeting.”

  “Again?” Sheri’s voice was laced with suspicion. “With Chase, perhaps?”

  “No,” I said, my voice grounded, warding off any further chance of suspicion. “But I am beginning to think I may need to, and soon. Sally called.”

  I told Sheri to meet me at my place, then hung up and placed a call to Ms.
Reddings. I had promised Andrea I would let her know when I was close to making contact with Sally. If things didn’t work out with DJ, I wanted a backup plan. And since Andrea had admitted she shuffled funds secretly to Sally, she seemed like a safe bet.

  The phone rang several times before the housekeeper answered. “Reddings’ residence. May I help you?”

  I asked to speak to Andrea and was told she wasn’t available. Would I like to leave a message? I did and requested she call, soon as possible.

  I met Sheri on the walk as I emerged from the parking structure beneath my condo. In her hands, she had a plate of homemade blueberry muffins with a glazed streusel topping. Still warm from the oven. I took a whiff and my stomach growled. The first normal feeling I’d had all morning.

  Misty was seated at the kitchen table when we walked in, a pot of freshly brewed tea in front of her. I explained we had some serious issues to discuss and she looked at me like she had done something wrong. “What’s happened?”

  “Sally called. She wants to meet.” I didn’t get into the details of how I’d received Sally’s call, that would come out soon enough. But right now I needed Misty’s full attention.

  Sheri slipped the plate of muffins beneath my nose, then placed them on the table. “And we need to brainstorm because Chase can’t know any of this.”

  “And you’re concerned I might say something?” Misty asked.

  “There are things I’ve been worried you might let accidently slip, It’s one of the reasons, I told him I didn’t want him to help with the arbor you wanted. There’s so much, Misty, he can’t know.”

  “Because if he does,” Sheri said, “and Chase finds Sally, he might try to have her arrested, and Carol needs to get to her before he can do that.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “And you want my help?” Misty stared down at her tea, both hands on the side of the cup as though she might be trying to read the leaves.