“She was always babying Victor,” Teresa says. “He had the chance of being a good man, but she made sure he would never grow up. She accepted me only on terms I stay out-of-the-way of her relationship with her son. Because he wanted me, she was willing to tolerate me. I hardly ever saw the woman, except for holidays.
“When the children came, she accepted them because they were her son’s, but she did little else. Her own grandchildren! She never visited them or had them over to her home. On their birthdays she sent a card with ten dollars in it…same for Christmas.
“So she’s dead…big deal…who cares? She meant nothing to me. You might have told me a stranger got killed, because that’s what we were to each other…strangers.
“When Victor and I separated, she knew how hard it was for me…alone with three children…her grandchildren. She never once offered me a nickel. She never offered, and I never asked. We just stayed out of each other’s lives. Strangers…that’s what we were. And, good riddance to her, the old bitch…that’s what I say.”
“Mrs. Russell, you mentioned you and your husband, Victor, were separated. May I ask why the two of you separated?” Benson asks.
Teresa’s face goes blank. She seems taken off guard by the question. After a moment of long thoughtfulness she speaks.
“It was because…because of someone else,” she says shyly.
“When you say someone else, what do you mean? Did he have someone else, or did you?”
Again, she goes into a moment of thoughtfulness.
“Both,” she finally answers in a whisper.
“I see,” Benson says.
***
If Teresa Russell shows little remorse for her mother-in-law’s passing, or for Joyce, for that matter, Kyle Adams is the exact opposite. He trembles and cries as he speaks of his beloved mother.
“Why would anybody do something so horrible to two old women?” Kyle asks, with tears in his eyes.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Goebel says. “Is there anything you can think of that might help us?”
“I can’t think of anything. My mother didn’t have an enemy in the world! And to die so horribly…I don’t understand!”
Kyle covers his face from the officers as more tears roll down his cheeks.
“Kyle, we realize this is a difficult time for you, so we’ll make it as short as we can…just a few more questions,” Benson says.
“Tell us about your father, Kyle. Do you know where he is?” Goebel asks.
“I don’t know who he is. My mother never told me. And honestly, I seriously think my mother didn’t know either. She always spoke about being married, but I’ve never seen any documents to prove it. She was single, young, and foolish when she had me, as she used to say to me. Who knows, maybe it was a one-night fling with a traveling salesman. I couldn’t say, and if my mother were still alive, I doubt if she could either.”
“You live in this big house alone? Why didn’t your mother live with you?” Goebel asks.
“I begged her time and again to move in. I told her there was plenty of room. But she wouldn’t hear of it. She said no woman wants a man who lives with his mother. But I think she liked her privacy, besides doing what she thought was best for me. She was always thinking of me, putting me first.”
“What I don’t understand,” Goebel says, “is when we spoke to some of the townspeople about your mother; they all gave us a different story. Some spoke of her as being a widow and others tell us she never married, as well as you saying you never knew your father.”
“That was just my mother trying to do the best for me as she knew how. I guess she felt sorry for me…having to live with the stigma of not even knowing my father. Sometimes she told people she was a widow and that her husband died and left me this big house because he loved me.
“Other times she gave people a different last name than Adams, so no one would make the connection, or she said she was widowed twice over, which explained the name difference.”
“Don’t you think that was strange for your mother to do?” Benson says.
“I guess so,” Kyle says, “but my mother had her quirks, especially when it came to the subject of my father.”
“Now, you told the police you were with someone last night. With Helen Haywood…how did that ever come about?”
“Helen and I met last time she came to town to visit her aunt. We hit it off right from the start. I went and visited her a few weeks ago. When she told me she was coming to visit her aunt again, I invited her to stay with me.”
“Do you know she’s married?”
“Not for long,” Kyle says sharply in his own defense. “She and her husband separated and are planning to get a divorce.”
“And how did you two meet?”
“Through my mother…I mean…I should say, because of my mother. I went to visit my mother one day when she was working for Mrs. Russell. Helen was there, and I asked her out to dinner that same night.”
Strange that Kyle would lie, but he did.
“Did she tell you why she came to visit her aunt?”
“She said she had come to town on business…something to do with her job. She just happened to be in town, so she spent a day or two at her aunt’s.”
“Did she tell you what happened or what transpired between her and her aunt during her visit?”
“No, we never spoke about her aunt.” He tells another lie.
“Well, thank you for your time and for being so understanding, Kyle. We’ll be in touch. Call us if you think of anything else.”
“Glad to be of help, if I can,” Kyle says.
“So, now what?” Dodson asks, sitting in the backseat as they drive back to the city.
“That’s simple,” Benson says. “We talk to Victor.”
“Definitely…Victor,” Goebel adds.
***
“Isn’t my lawyer supposed to be here?” Victor asks as they usher him into the now familiar interrogation room where Goebel and Benson are waiting. A dull light from the one table lamp is all that lights the room.
“Your lawyer sends his apologies. He had some important business to attend to, but he gave us permission to talk with you,” Goebel says. “Sit down, Victor.”
“You guys are so full of it,” Victor says, then laughs and takes a seat across the table from the two detectives. “I told you a long time ago, I may be crazy, but I ain’t stupid. But, hey, what do I care…? You guys are going to do whatever you want, no matter what the law says. Besides, as long as I’m behind bars, I’m safe. I couldn’t give a rat’s turd.”
“First, let me say, we’re sorry for what happened to your mother, Victor,” Benson says.
“Sorry? I’m glad to hear somebody’s sorry about the old girl’s demise, but I’m not.” Victor began to laugh as he speaks. “She got off easy, only having her throat cut. She deserved worse and would have got it if time wasn’t an important factor.”
“What do you mean ‘time was a factor’?”
“The Sheriff…she called the Sheriff. She was going to spill her guts to him, so she needed to be taken out.”
“How do you know about the meeting with the Sheriff?”
“I know lots a things; I’ve got the inside track…I get my dope straight from the horse’s mouth. She was lucky! If she didn’t need to be taken out so quickly, she would have been looking at a month of pain or more. She was always pulling stunts like that…having a conscience and all. I’m surprised he let her live as long as she did.”
“Who let her live, Victor? Was it your father?”
“Bingo…give the man a cigar,” laughs Victor. “You’re finally catching on!”
“But your father is dead. How could he kill your mother?”
“Now, did I say he killed her? No, I said he let her live, even though she was always in the way. No, Daddy didn’t kill Mommy…Daddy had Mommy killed!”
“So, who did it? Who killed Mommy?”
“Bubba did!” Victor
nearly topples over laughing. “It was my brother. He got the order from Daddy.”
“But you said Nicholas was dead!”
“And he is,” Victor says, “It’s all done with mirrors, I guess.”
“Is there another brother…other than Nicholas?”
Victor holds his sides as he laughs.
“Is there another brother?” Victor says mockingly, “Is there another Mommy? Is there another Daddy? I am he, and he is we, and I am she, and she is he, and we are altogether!” Victor said in a singsong manner.
“This is useless,” Benson says.
“I agree,” Goebel says.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
You Could Do It
Helen gets up from her desk, hearing noise in the hallway. “What’s all the commotion?” she asks Todd Yeager as he rushes past her.
Todd turns to face Helen. He walks backwards as he speaks, not missing a step. “There’s a celebration in John Pierce’s office. He just got word he’s this year’s Employee of the Year. …Big bonus, you know?” Todd turns again, facing forward and runs off.
“Well, good for John,” Helen says, smiling as she goes to join the celebration.
There is a line of cheering coworkers that starts at the water cooler down the hall and flows into Pierce’s office, right up to the foot of his desk. Helen pushes her way forward, just close enough to see Pierce standing on top of his desk.
“Speech! Speech!” The cry starts at the back of the hall and ends in the office. Pierce holds out both palms of his hands, signaling for them to be quiet. The crowd goes silent.
“First, I’d like to thank all the little people I stepped on to get to where I am today. And I want all of you to know I won’t forget any of you…at least not for the first three months after my promotion,” Pierce says, with ice-cold seriousness. Then, unable to hold it any longer, his face bursts into a smile, and then into laughter – as do all the others present.
Again, he holds his palms out, gesturing for silence.
“No, seriously, there are some people I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart. First, I’d like to thank God. Second, my beautiful and blessed wife, Tina, and our two lovely children. But most of all I’d like to thank you, my good friends.”
There is a moment of true electric emotion in the air that leaves each person speechless.
“Sentimental horse apples!” someone yells from the back of the crowd, and the celebration returns to its original ear perching shouting and laughter.
Someone shakes a bottle of soda, twists off the bottle cap, and sprays down Pierce in true champagne fashion.
An hour later, when all the coffee and doughnuts are gone, the entire crowd scatters. John Pierce finds himself alone. He begins picking up ripped pieces of paper that had been used as confetti, and places them in the wastepaper basket. He looks up. There is Helen Haywood standing in the doorway of his office, smiling.
“The title of Employee of the Year comes with a promotion, too?” she asks.
He smiles and nods affirmative.
“Yeah, looks like we’ll be moving up to corporate. I’ll miss you, Helen; you’ve been a good friend.”
“Not as good a friend as you,” Helen says, walking into the office. “I never did thank you for that night you and family showed so much concern for me, when I needed it the most…how you said you would pray for me.”
“And we still do. Our daughter, Lateasha, says a prayer every night for the nice blond woman who works with Daddy.”
“She’s a lovely child,” Helen says.
“We think so. …Which reminds me…with all the celebrating, I haven’t called my wife to tell her the good news. So, if you don’t mind?”
“Oh, not at all. …Tell Tina hi for me.”
“I sure will,” John says as he walks to the phone on his desk. “I know my wife will be happy for me, but I sure hope she doesn’t mind moving out of state to corporate. She has so many friends here, especially at church. Church…” He bits his lip, as he softly speaks, “Some of the bigwigs are taking us out for a celebration dinner next week. …I need to call some people from church and see if we can get a babysitter for the children.”
“Would you let me?” Helen asks.
“What’s that?” John says.
“Let me babysit! Oh, please, it would mean so much to me to do one last favor for you.”
“Are you sure?” John asks. “Well, I can’t see why not. If it’s all right with Tina, then it’s all right with me.”
***
Back in her office, Helen receives a call from Goebel and Benson explaining all that has gone down in Tannersville. Immediately, she closes her office door and dials her phone.
“Hello?” says a sleepy-sounding voice.
“Kyle, it’s me, Helen.”
“Oh, Helen…yeah, hi.”
“I just heard from the police about your mother. Oh, Kyle, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, yeah…well, you know…I appreciate it.”
There is an odd tone to Kyle’s voice – not sleepy – drugged or drunk. Perhaps he has been drinking. Helen does not think this an impossibility or odd. Losing your mother in such a horrendous manner – she can only imagine.
“I just wanted to see if you were all right,” she whispers, hoping to draw him out.
“I’m okay…I guess.”
“Kyle, have you been sleeping? You sound so tired.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep more than a few minutes the past two nights, not since this happened. I don’t remember the last time I ate something. I just don’t feel like eating anything right now.”
“Of course not. You’re still in shock, but it’ll all pass,” she says, trying to be of some comfort.
There is a rumbling over the phone line, as if Kyle is occupied with doing something else, maybe something in the kitchen. Then there is a loud thud over the line, as if he dropped the phone, followed by crashing sounds, as if trying to recover the phone from off the floor.
“Kyle, are you all right?”
“Helen…you still there?” he says, once he regains the phone.
“Kyle, are you all right?” she repeats. “Do you need me? Do you want me to come to Tannersville? I could be there in a couple of hours.”
“No…No…No!” he hollers at her.
“I just thought…” she says sheepishly.
“No…no…whatever you do…don’t. …I don’t want you to come!”
She thinks this strange. She understands the strain he must be under, but this is something different. Why are his answers so harsh and cold?
“I just thought you could use a friend right now,” she says almost in tears.
Then, there is a rumbling once more over the phone line. For a moment it sounds as if he placed his hand over the receiver so she can’t hear whatever it is that is taking place. As he removes his hand from the receiver, Helen swears she hears a voice other than Kyle’s – another man’s voice.
“Kyle, is there someone there with you?”
“No, there’s no one here; I’ve got the TV on. Just give me a second to turn it off.”
Again, she senses the palm of his hand covering the receiver. Only, this time she can still hear Kyle’s voice.
“No…no…I won’t!” she hears him scream, “I will never!”
“Helen?” he asks, returning to the phone.
“Kyle, there is someone there with you! What is going on? You’re frightening me! I’m coming over, Kyle. Don’t tell me not to. …I’m coming to you!”
“No, damn it, Helen! I don’t want you to come. I don’t want to see you. In fact, maybe it would be best if we don’t see each other ever again!”
Helen goes silent for a moment, digesting what she just heard.
“Kyle, what are you saying? I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” His voice becomes cruel. “It was a big mistake! People back out of relationships every day. …What’s to understand?”
&
nbsp; “But I thought…”
“Well, you thought wrong. Listen, you’re a nice person, and I don’t want to hurt you, but it’s just not going to work. I’m sorry, but I have to hang up now. And please don’t ever call me again.”
There is a loud click in Helen’s ear. She places the phone down and stares at it. Her mind cannot grasp what he said to her. There is no clear explanation for it. Her first reaction is to dial him up again and demand some kind of answer she can wrap her mind around.
Perhaps she should ignore his wishes, hop in her car, and drive nonstop to Tannersville and demand an answer. Maybe if he sees her face-to-face, maybe then he will talk.
But, a moment later, all those feelings wash away. Somewhere in her mind, she knows there is nothing she can do. She has chosen wrong once more in her life.
She continues to stare at the phone, unable to move. She swears she won’t cry as the tears run down her cheeks.
***
Despite their close and ever-growing friendship, there is a part of Helen and Angela’s relationship that remains in an official capacity – Angela is still her doctor. Except for the short period of time Angela spends recuperating from her assault, their weekly office meetings at the hospital continue like clockwork. Which is why Helen is so surprised to receive a note from Angela by email, apologizing for not being available for the following day’s visit because of unexpected business.
The patient side of Helen thinks nothing of the message, but the friend part of her knows something is wrong. She decides to phone Angela.
“Angela, I read your email. What’s up?”
“Do you remember when you were first staying at the hospital; I tried to get you involved in a rehab group?”
“Do I? How could I forget? It just wasn’t for me. Those poor women…I felt so sorry for them. …They all seemed so…so… traumatized.”
“Well, do you remember one of the young women…Maria?”
“Yes, I remember her…small Hispanic girl.”
“That was her. It seems she took an overdose of sleeping pills last night.”
“Oh, my God, but it couldn’t have been intentional!”
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