She stepped forward, and Anna recognized the pale, slightly dowdy young woman. Though Anna rarely watched the show, she’d seen photos of Sally and Taylor together. She remembered Sally’s daughter was deaf. “What—what are you doing here?” she asked, catching her breath. Her heart was still racing.
“Did you say something? I’m sorry, I can’t tell.”
Anna quickly took her hand away from her mouth. “I’m sorry. You startled me. What are you . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. “Why are you hiding in my carport?”
“I wanted to talk with you,” she replied, signing again as she spoke. Taylor came a bit closer. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait by your dock. But some reporters are there, and I don’t want it getting back to my mother that I spoke to you.”
Anna squinted at her. “How do you know where I live? How do you know where I park my car?”
Taylor winced as if embarrassed. “I’m sorry. My mother has a couple of private investigators working for her. One of them had been checking you out since Sunday afternoon—as soon as my mother got wind of the police report on Courtney Knoll’s disappearance. I read some of the investigator’s notes. They included your houseboat address, the address of the carport, a description of your car, and the license number.”
“Good God,” Anna murmured, shaking her head. “Since Sunday afternoon?”
Taylor nodded.
“Does this private investigator drive a black Jetta?”
Taylor shrugged. “I really don’t know what kind of car she drives.”
“Was there anything in this investigator’s notes about making phone calls to harass me?”
“I don’t think so. At least, I didn’t see anything like that.”
Maybe it was the way she slouched, or how speaking clearly was an obvious challenge for her, but Taylor came across as so pitiful and defenseless. Still, she was Sally’s daughter, and Anna was wary of her. She moved to her trunk and unloaded one of the boxes of work junk. “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, pausing to look directly at Taylor so she could read her lips.
“My mother, she’s on the warpath. She’s out to get you, Anna.”
No shit, Anna wanted to say. But she nodded. “I know. I’ve seen the promos for tonight’s show. And it’s what half the reporters have been asking me about today.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “The show starts in a minute. But thanks for the warning. Is that all?”
“I know you don’t trust me, but I really want to help if I can. I thought your statement on the news tonight was really courageous.”
“Thank you. I wonder what your mother thought.”
“She was furious!” Taylor had a tough time saying furious. “You really pissed her off. So much of her show tonight was dedicated to exposing you and Dr. Knoll as lovers, and you ruined that for her.”
Anna couldn’t help smiling a bit. “Well, that’s the first bit of good news I’ve heard all day.”
“Sally even has a fact-checker investigating every word you said tonight. She wants to make you out to be a liar.”
“A fact-checker? Well, that’s ironic, considering how Sally has a habit of playing fast and loose with facts.” Anna sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk to you about your mother like that.”
“It’s okay. I love her, because she’s my mother. But I don’t like her very much.”
Anna glanced at her watch again. “Apparently, you don’t like her show very much, either. We’re both missing it.”
“They rerun it at eleven-thirty,” Taylor said. “I’m sorry.”
Anna let out a little laugh. “I should probably thank you.”
“I’ve seen the script,” Taylor said. “The first ten minutes are all about Courtney Knoll and what’s happened. My mother will be talking about how I’m close friends with Courtney, which is a joke. I’ve met her only three times. After the intro, Sally—my mother—had planned to bring out a couple of witnesses who would say you and Courtney were both drunk at the Canlis restaurant Thursday night. Then Sally was going to accuse you and Dr. Knoll of having an affair. But as I said, you ruined that for her. So she’s making her writers redo the whole second half of the show. They’ll have to do a lot of rewriting, because I was supposed to be on tonight, talking about how Courtney was a pillar of the deaf community in Seattle. But I just couldn’t do it. So I walked out. I had to warn you. My mother plans to spend the whole week on this. You know how on most of the shows, she has people phoning in and voting on something? Tomorrow, Sally will ask people if they believe the story you and Dr. Knoll gave the police about the night Courtney disappeared. She doesn’t really care that much about Courtney—or her husband. This is all about destroying you—however she can.”
Dumbstruck, Anna could only stare at her.
“My mother knows how to hold a grudge,” Taylor said. “Do you remember the Ted Birch story you covered in Spokane about three and a half years ago?”
Anna nodded. “It was one of the things that really turned me off to your mother.”
“You and me both,” Taylor said. “Sally refused to be held accountable for that.”
Anna remembered the case. Ted Birch was a redneck, good-old-boy petty thief who had been in and out of jail most of his life. He wasn’t a very good husband to his long-suffering wife, Janelle, and he was a mostly absent father to his little boy, Teddy. But during his last stint in prison, he became determined to turn his life around. When he got out, Ted went straight and tried to make it up to his wife and son. Janelle got pregnant and had a baby girl, and things were looking up for them. Then one night in late October, when twelve-year-old Ted junior was sleeping at a friend’s house, Ted and Janelle’s neighbors heard arguing. Two hours later, the Birches’ house went up in flames. The same neighbor who had heard the screaming saw Ted outside the house in his pajama bottoms, calmly watching the flames sweep through the house. His wife and baby daughter died in the inferno. One of Ted’s prior offenses had been arson.
As part of her campaign to enforce a three-strikes policy for repeat offenders, Sally jumped on the case before she had all the facts. She campaigned for Ted Birch’s immediate arrest. By the end of her second consecutive show dedicated to the Ted Birch case, Sally’s audience voted him guilty of killing his wife and baby daughter.
In his defense, Ted told investigators that the screaming was just a joke—something he and his wife did when their baby was crying. Somehow, the competing noise always seemed to make the confused child quiet down. He also claimed to have a history of sleepwalking. One of his many early arrests had been for indecent exposure, when he’d unconsciously wandered down his block naked at two in the morning. Sally found all of this too far-fetched to believe and continued her campaign against him. Janelle’s sister, who had always hated Ted, was a guest on Sally’s show.
Police investigators determined that a faulty extension cord in the master bedroom had started the blaze and that Ted’s story was accurate. But by then, Sally had moved on to another story. She never made any apologies or retractions. A lot of people never heard about Ted Birch’s innocence; certainly none of Sally’s followers did. Two weeks after the police had cleared him, Ted Birch borrowed a friend’s hunting rifle. He waited until his son was in school the following morning; then he went into his backyard, put the barrel end of the rifle in his mouth, and blew his head off.
Sally’s smear campaign had clearly played a part in Ted Birch’s suicide. But she refused to see it that way and never discussed it publicly. Anna did a story for her Spokane station, focusing on Ted junior, who had chosen to live with a friend’s family instead of his embittered aunt. The boy blamed his aunt and Sally Justice for contributing to his father’s suicide. But his attitude was surprisingly optimistic. He talked about how grateful he was that his dad had made the most of his second chance to become a better person and a better father. They had two great years together. He said that he forgave his dad for all the bad times. When Anna asked the boy if he could
ever forgive his aunt or Sally Justice, he just shrugged. “It’s hard to forgive somebody when they’re not really sorry, y’know?”
Anna’s report was picked up by over thirty affiliate stations and went viral online.
Apparently, as far as Sally Justice was concerned, it had been a declaration of war.
“My mother took a lot of heat because of that story you did,” Taylor explained, signing as she spoke.
“Your mother took a lot of heat because of what she did,” Anna corrected her. “I didn’t push an innocent man toward suicide. I have a theory about Sally. I think she knows she’s a bullshit artist, but the trouble is, she believes her own bullshit, because her adoring public says she’s right—no matter what.”
“People will believe what they want to believe,” Taylor said. “My mother blamed you because you blew the whistle on her. For a while, there was even a dartboard with your picture on it in the break room at my mother’s studio. I took the picture down ages ago. But she’s still mad at you.”
“So this is all payback,” Anna said, resting the boxful of work artifacts against the trunk.
Taylor nodded. “She’s convinced that you and Dr. Knoll murdered Courtney. She won’t even consider the possibility that someone else might have killed her.” She touched Anna’s arm. “What you did on the news tonight, it spoiled everything for her. If I can find out what my mother’s planning for tomorrow night’s show, I’ll let you know. That way you can start planning on how to . . .” She momentarily stopped talking and gesturing.
“Head Sally off at the pass?” Anna said.
Taylor nodded eagerly. “You can be ready to discredit whatever she says.”
“I appreciate this, Taylor, I mean it. But I have to ask. Why are you doing this for me?”
“I’ve stood by and watched my mother hurt a lot of people who didn’t deserve it, people like Ted Birch. I just can’t stand by and watch anymore. I won’t let her destroy you, Anna.” Taylor patted her arm. “The private detective put your phone number in her report. I’ll text you tonight or tomorrow—as soon as I find out what my mother has planned for tomorrow’s show.”
Anna nodded.
Sally’s daughter turned and started to walk away.
“Thank you!” Anna called. But Taylor’s back was to her, and Anna realized the thank-you was in vain. She watched Sally’s daughter turn the corner on the other side of the shed and disappear.
Hoisting up the box, Anna started down the block. She tried to process everything Taylor had just told her. So Sally Justice was convinced she and Russ had murdered Courtney. “She won’t even consider the possibility that someone else might have killed her,” Taylor had said.
Anna realized her own thinking had been just as restricted. As much as she loved Russ and wanted to stand up for him, a part of her still suspected Russ of making Courtney disappear. But she didn’t want to consider that as a possibility. It was easier to think Courtney had pulled a Gone Girl vanishing act to destroy the two of them and promote her book sales. Hell, Anna had even considered the ridiculous notion that she herself might have been the killer, sleepwalking through the whole thing like poor Ted Birch.
But she never seriously thought about the possibility that Courtney might have been murdered by someone else, a total stranger, or maybe somebody who hated Courtney. Anyone who used people the way Courtney did was bound to make enemies. Russ had once mentioned that, since they’d been married, Courtney had gone through several men. Anna couldn’t help wondering if any of those discarded lovers were angry or bitter. And among them, had any dumped girlfriends or wives for Courtney? Anna had never been comfortable thinking of herself as a homewrecker. But Courtney probably had no problem taking on the role—as long as she got what she wanted and her public image remained unblemished.
The news van near the gate to her dock was from MSNBC. A good-looking reporter with silver hair was waiting by the gate with his videographer. He didn’t lunge at her. “Can you answer a couple of questions, Ms. Malone?”
“Sure,” she said, pausing. She shifted the box to one side so that it was balanced against her hip. “But let’s do it right here.”
“Right now, on her show, Sally Justice is saying that you and Dr. Russell Knoll should be considered suspects in his wife Courtney’s disappearance. Do you have any comment on that?” He brought the handheld mic close to her face.
“Sally has a history of incorrectly rushing to judgment before she has all the facts. So I shouldn’t be surprised. But I can assure you that I had nothing to do with Courtney’s disappearance, and neither did her husband. I’m hoping for her safe return.”
“Do you think her safe return is still possible considering the police found evidence of so much blood in the Knolls’ floating home?”
“Yes, I’m hoping. As far as I know, this is still considered a missing person case. So I hope Courtney’s okay.”
He spoke into the mic again: “Would you set the record straight? Were you fired from your job as a TV reporter because of your involvement with Courtney Knoll’s husband?”
“No. I requested a leave of absence, and it was granted.”
“Are you going to spend any of your new free time with Dr. Knoll?” he asked.
Anna shook her head. “No. I won’t be seeing Dr. Knoll. I plan to spend my newfound free time doing everything I can to help the police determine what happened to Courtney Knoll.” She shifted the box so that it was in front of her. “Now, this is getting heavy, so I need to move on.”
“Thank you, Ms. Malone!”
As soon as she stepped into her house, Anna set down the box in the hallway, rushed into the living room, grabbed the remote, and switched on the TV. She changed channels to the 24/7 News Network. Like it or not, she figured she’d better catch the last few minutes of The Sally Justice Show.
A commercial for some diet pill was on.
Anna hurried into her study, where she had all three of Courtney’s books by her desk. Carrying the books into the living room, she placed them on the coffee table and plopped down on the sofa. On TV, a slim woman and her boyfriend were walking along the beach, holding hands.
Anna gazed at the books in front of her—and the bold, stark graphics on the brightly colored covers. She’d remembered something Russ had told her about Courtney ripping off the idea for The Defective Squad from a former friend in her writers’ group. “The group was pretty hostile toward her after the first book came out,” he’d told her. “No one from that group will have anything to do with her anymore.”
Sure enough, in the acknowledgments for The Defective Squad, Courtney had thanked the people in her writers’ group:
I’m grateful to my writers’ group for helping me whip this manuscript into shape: Becky Arnett, Margaret Freeman, Sloane Lindquist, Sandy Myron, and Barb Riddle.
In her next two books, Courtney gave the usual thanks—to her editor, her agent, her mother, and Russ. Also she thanked someone named Gil, referring to him as the forever helpful Gil in all three book acknowledgments. But there was no mention of her writers’ group in those two subsequent books.
On TV, they were listing the side effects of the diet pill.
Anna quickly pulled out her phone and texted Russ. She knew they’d said their good-byes yesterday. They’d made a necessary exception with their texts earlier today. She hadn’t expected to be contacting him again for a while. He probably didn’t expect to hear from her, either. But this was another exception:
Sorry to bother you. I’m doing some investigating. Do you know who Gil is? He’s mentioned in the acknowledgments of Courtney’s 3 books. Thanks.
Anna figured this Gil person might know Courtney pretty well. She sent the text.
A few bars of the dramatic pulsating theme music from Sally’s show came over the TV.
“I’m back!” Sally announced. She sat at her judge’s desk, with a stern expression on her Botoxed face. Her ash-blond hair looked perfect, and her heavily made-up eyes stared do
wn the camera. In the box over her left shoulder was a beautiful photo of Courtney—with the caption: Courtney Knoll—3 Days Missing. “I have a warning. The images you are about to see have graphic content and may be disturbing. And while you see these unsettling images from Courtney’s living room, think about the fact that Seattle Police have not yet arrested anyone in connection with Courtney’s disappearance. Think about the fact that the last two people to see Courtney alive were her philandering husband, Dr. Russell Knoll, and his mistress, the disgraced local TV reporter, Anna Malone. And the three of them were last seen at a restaurant, having a drunken, violent argument.”
“Oh shit,” Anna murmured.
On the TV screen, there was a photograph of Russ and Courtney’s living room. A smeary luminescent substance covered parts of the hardwood floor by the bookcase.
“These are exclusive photos from the luminol test, part of the ongoing police investigation,” Sally continued in voice-over. “This is Courtney Knoll’s living room in her beautiful floating home on Seattle’s Lake Union. Now it’s a crime scene. The glowing blue-white spots indicate traces of blood. As you can see, there’s quite a lot of it.”
They showed a portion of the same photo—a close-up of the big bluish glow-in-the-dark splotch at the base of the bookcase, and then another portion of the same photo—with another luminescent constellation on the dark floor at the edge of a plush rug.
“Something happened in that living room shortly after midnight Friday—something Courtney’s husband and his TV-reporter mistress aren’t telling the police. What don’t they want us to know?”
The image on TV went back to Sally at her desk. “On tomorrow’s Sally Justice Show, I’m going to examine this duplicitous pair more closely. We’ll look at their backgrounds and punch some holes in that tall tale they’ve told the police about the night Courtney vanished. And we’ll hear from you—what some of you think about them. You won’t want to miss it. You get all the true talk on The Sally Justice Show!”
The Night She Disappeared Page 16
