'He didn't want marriage.' She sniffed again. 'He didn't want a baby. He said he was too young, although he was in his last year of medical school. He could have... Anyway, when I told him I was going to keep the baby, he had a fit. He told me don't expect help from him... he was just too young to be tied down. Then two months later... he... he got engaged to a classmate.' She started to cry. 'It's not that he didn't want commitment, he just didn't want me.'
She buried her face in her napkin. Marge waited for the weeping to stop, wondering if Paula's story was relevant. Finally, the nurse dried her eyes. 'Marie was very helpful.' 'A shoulder to cry on?'
'Yes, and more. She became close to me. She even invited me to stay with her, saying I'd need help when I got bigger - farther along in my pregnancy. I'm from Des Moines, and I don't really get along well with my folks. To show up back home pregnant and unmarried... I'd never hear the end of it. I felt so alone. Marie was just great! No one could have been as kind as she was to me. She was one of the few people I know who practiced what they preached.' 'Did you move in with her?'
She shook her head. 'It turned out it wasn't necessary. I miscarried at four months.' She smiled through wet eyes. 'My ex-boyfriend sent me flowers in the hospital. Can you imagine?' 'Nice guy.'
'A very expensive lesson in life, I suppose.' She sighed. 'At least I felt better - losing the baby from miscarriage
than from abortion. Truthfully, I was going to get an abortion. But Marie talked me out of it.' 'Marie was against your abortion or any abortion?' 'It wasn't black and white, Detective. But she did have feelings on the subject. She asked me if I could live with my decision - terminating my own child's life. It made me evaluate who I was.' 'Was Marie specifically a Catholic?' 'She just considered herself just a decent Christian woman. But that wasn't the reason for her views. I think she lost a baby a long time ago... when she was very young. I don't know whether it was a stillborn or the baby died at birth. Whatever it was, it was a tragedy. She said it changed her life.'
Marge was scribbling furiously. 'How so?' 'I don't know. She never got any more specific' 'How old was she when she lost her baby?' 'She just said she was very young.' It was Marge's turn to hesitate. Very young. Marie's chart claimed she'd had a D and C a couple of years back. Had Marie had another miscarriage or stillborn? No, it couldn't be stillborn. Someone would have recalled Marie pregnant. So maybe it was a miscarriage. Maybe this was the tragedy that Marie was referring to. She could have told Paula it had been many years ago when in fact it hadn't been. And she might have embellished the severity of it to make Paula feel better.
'Do you know if Marie was married at the time of her
tragedy?'
'I'm sorry but I don't know. Marie didn't get into specifics, and back then, her problems weren't utmost on
my mind.' 'But she told you she had actually lost a baby.'
'Yes.'
'Not just miscarried.'
'She used the term "lost".'
'Paula, did Marie seem unusually preoccupied with babies lately?'
'I can't answer that honestly. Because lately, I haven't seen much of Marie.' Paula sighed again. 'I found another boyfriend. A good guy, also with commitment problems.' She laughed nervously. 'But at least he's upfront about it. We've been going together almost four months. Now that things are going okay for me, Marie's sort of dropped out of the picture. I call and invite her out. But as soon as she finds out Joe's gonna be there, she backs off. Joe's a fun-loving guy, and Marie is...'
'She doesn't approve of Joe?'
'No, it's not like that. Marie isn't judgemental. She just does better one-on-one. This was the first time I'd have seen her in months. I was planning to take her out to dinner for her birthday. Just the two of us. Now I find out... This is so horrible. I feel guilty. Maybe she was sending me signals I didn't pick up on.'
'Like what?'
'I don't know,' Paula said. 'Like I said, I obviously didn't pick up on them.'
'When was the last time you talked to Marie?'
'A week ago. When we made plans.'
'And how'd she sound?'
'Fine.'
'Did she say anything unusual to you regarding babies or their mothers?'
'No.'
'Did she mention her prior tragedy at all?'
'No.'
'Did she mention your miscarriage at all?'
'No.'
'Do you know of any men past or present in Marie's life?'
'No.'
'But she told you she lost a baby.'
'Yes.'
'She never said when this happened?'
'Just that she was young.'
'And she never mentioned the father?'
'No.'
'Did she ever talk about having another baby, Paula?'
'No. And she only talked about her tragedy after I lost the baby. To be empathetic. I think.'
'Paula, when you were close to Marie, did you know or meet any of Marie's other friends?'
'I don't think Marie had very many friends.'
'Well, when you used to visit her, did she ever get any phone calls?'
'From the hospital.'
'How about personal phone calls?'
'No... wait, her mom called several times. Marie told me her mom lives in a nursing home in Arcadia. She's kind of nuts and every so often she escapes and calls Marie on a pay phone. Marie used to visit her twice a week. I'm sure she still does.'
Marge paused and looked through her notes. There it was. Pete had played Marie's messages for her. In them had been a gravelly voice on the run. She looked up from her notebook. 'Do you know the name of the nursing
home?' 'No, I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm terrible with names.'
'But it's in Arcadia.'
'It was as of six, maybe seven months ago.'
'The only calls you ever heard Marie receive were from
her mom?'
'She's the only one I remember calling Marie's house.' 'Did you ever hear her talk about Dotty?' 'Dotty?'
'Yesterday someone named Dotty called her house.' 'Dotty... could you mean Dody?' 'Could be. Who's Dody?'
'Secretary from Sun Valley's Pres's pension plan department. Business. Every so often she used to call me to verify wages and deductions and stuff like that. She's a fixture at Sun Valley.' 'Was she a friend of Marie's?' 'Not that I know.'
'So you don't know anyone Marie might be friendly with outside the hospital other than her mom?'
'She's nice to the incoming nurses. Really sweet. Maybe she had another special friend. Someone she took under her wing. Like me. I really don't know.' 'Anybody specific you have in mind?' 'No. No one.'
'Did Marie ever offer to take care of your baby after it arrived?'
Paula scrunched up her eyes in concentration. 'Well, she did say I could stay with her. Like I said, she was nice. But she didn't get any more specific than that.'
'Did you ever have a feeling that she wanted to raise your baby as her own?'
'No, Detective. She just really wanted to help me. Helping people. That was Marie's thing. She cared.'
'You're describing her as such a giving person. Yet you can't remember any other friends she had.' 'I know it sounds crazy, but I can't.' 'Never got a picture postcard from someone on vacation?'
'Wait, wait, wait!' Paula's eyes lit up. 'She received a Christmas card. She stood it up on her coffee table, half-open. I noticed it because it was the only Christmas card she had on display. She had it from an old friend but never said more than that. Gosh, amazing what suddenly
hits you. When you said postcard, I remembered Christmas card.'
'Do you know who sent the card?' 'You mean the name? Gosh, I'm just terrible at names.' 'Was it a man or a woman?' 'A woman. I just can't remember.' 'Think, Paula. ThinkV
'It wasn't a weird name.' She closed her eyes. 'I'm sorry. It was a while ago.' 'The card was signed with a first and last name?' 'Yes, it was... I think.' 'And no names come to mind?' 'No. Just that it wasn't an unusual
name.' 'Thanks for your time.' Marge folded her notebook, wondering if Decker'd come across any Christmas cards. 'If you think of that name or anything else—' 'I'll call. Do you have a card?' Marge handed her a business card. 'You ring me or my partner, Detective Sergeant Peter Decker. I wrote his name next to mine. You can ask for either one.'
'Good thing you wrote it down.' Paula pocketed the card. 'Like I told you, I'm terrible with names.' 'We should all be named John Doe, huh?' 'It would help. Or at least Bob—' Paula stopped. Marge asked, 'What is it?' 'The last name was Robert... It was Susan Robert... something like that.' 'Susan Robert?'
'Something like that, but not exactly.' 'Okay, that's a real good start.' 'But it wasn't Susan. More like Susanna, but that wasn't it either.'
'Cynthia?' Marge suggested. 'Sara?' 'Uh huh.' 'Cecilia? Sandra? Serita—'
'Sandra,' Paula stated. 'The name on the card was Sandra Robert.'
'You're sure?'
'Pretty sure, I think.' Paula beamed. 'Guess I'm not so terrible with names after all.' She paused. 'It's Detective Dunn, right?'
Marge stood and smiled. 'Right.'
Decker studied the face of the Christmas card - a snow-covered pastoral scene with smoke rising from the country house's chimney. Inside were the words: Over the River and through the Woods. A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. The signature was large and full of flare. Sondra Roberts. No love or sincerely or best wishes or fondly. Just a signature. To Marge, he said, 'And Paula said this was the only Christmas card Bellson had on display?'
'The only one she remembered seeing.' Marge sat down on Marie's wave-patterned couch. 'Where'd you finally find it?'
'In her stationery drawer under her personalized paper - the only personal item I found.'
'We never did find any lockbox,' Cindy added. 'Or wall safe or floor safe or hidden door.'
'She must have some photo albums somewhere,' Marge said. 'Everyone has photo albums.'
'Unless you're trying to forget your past,' Decker mentioned.
'The prodigal daughter,' Marge said. 'Then why keep the old books?'
'Maybe Marie didn't want to bury her past entirely. Books are less threatening reminders than snapshots.'
Marge raised her brows. 'Or maybe the someone who erased her messages could have taken her personal photographs. Come to think of it, he or she could have
taken the lockbox, too. All personal effects that might have linked the person with Marie.'
Cindy said, 'Then why wouldn't the person take the key to the box.'
Decker stared at his daughter.
Cindy shrugged. 'Sorry, I'm just a little bored... don't mind me.'
Decker zeroed in on her. 'All right, Cynthia. If the person was going to take the lock box, why wouldn't he or she take the key?'
'Because the person knew where the box was, but didn't know where the key was.'
'The girl's a natural,' Marge said.
'That's my daughter,' Decker said. 'So we're working on the assumption that this key fits a box and the box was taken, but not by Marie. Otherwise, she would have taken the key.' Decker thought a moment. 'To know about the existence of such a box... it would have been someone close to Marie.' 'I'll call Paula and ask her if she knew about a box,'
Marge suggested.
'Good.' Decker turned to his daughter. 'Thanks for the help, princess. Now will you go home and get some sleep?'
'Yes, I will go home and I will take a nap. I'm very
tired.' 'Hallelujah,' Decker said. 'Exhaustion has finally
prevailed.'
'What first, Rabbi?' Marge asked. 'Start scanning the phone books for Sondra Roberts?'
Decker said, 'Also the hospitals, the health employment agencies and the vocational training centers. Dollars to doughnuts, this gal's a nurse.'
'Start with Sun Valley Pres?'
'Yep,' Decker said. 'Do you recall any nurses there named Sondra Roberts?'
'No.'
'Neither do I, but that doesn't mean a thing.' Decker shrugged. 'All right, we'll locate this Sondra Roberts. Why? To find out more about Marie and to make sure that Marie isn't holed up with her. Now what about Marie's mom?'
'Paula speaks the truth. She is indeed in an old-age home in Arcadia. The director and staff have been put on alert that Marie is missing. They'll monitor calls to find out if Marie is trying to make contact with her mom. They'll also call if Marie shows up.'
'Talk to the mother at all, Marge?'
'No, she was eating lunch. I have an appointment with her at three.'
Decker said, 'Marie was reading a library book about nurturant role reversals of mother-daughter.'
'Well, Paula said her mother was constantly escaping to make calls. Looks like the old lady may have seen the other side.'
Decker said, 'Marie taking care of a senile mother. Then she goes to work and takes care of people.' He tapped his foot. 'Seems to me the last thing she'd want is an infant to care for.'
'I was thinking the same thing. Maybe Maria was just as much a victim as the baby.'
'A possibility,' Decker said. 'Did you happen to find out if Marie has any other family?'
'As far as the staff knows, it's just mother and daughter. But there may be a maiden aunt or cousin locked away in the basement.'
'Grace Poole rears her ugly head,' Cindy said.
Marge and Decker stared at her.
'Rochester's crazed wife?' Cindy said. 'Jane Eyre! Charlotte Bronte? Forget it.'
Decker shook his head and flipped the Christmas card
around to the backside. 'This isn't a commercial card, Marge. It's for charity. I was looking for the price and instead I found an artist credit and statement of nonprofit from the maker. Beth Dillon - member eight years of Overeaters Anonymous.'
'So we may be looking for a fat nurse,' Marge said.
'Maybe a former fat nurse,' Cindy suggested. 'Maybe she lost weight when she joined the organization.'
'Attaway, Cynthia!' Marge said. 'I see in my crystal ball a second generation of Decker detectives.'
Decker threw her a dirty look. Then his radio went off. He used Marie's phone to call the station house. A moment later, Detective Mike Hollander came on the line.
'Morning, Rabbi. Looks like some congratulations are in order.'
'Thanks, Mike.'
'Rina doing okay?'
'Better. Tell everyone at the station house that Rina really appreciated the flowers. And thanks for the roses, Mike. Two dozen and long-stemmed - very nice. Must mean you're a good friend.'
'At least a good friend of Rina's.'
Decker laughed. 'What's up?'
'Just got off the phone with the fire department up in the National Forest Service - Angeles Crest. Had a bit of a bonfire down there. Looks like a car fell down the mountainside and exploded into flames. Potentially dangerous situation. Luckily, they got it before the wind kicked up. They're still doing some mop-up, but they've recovered the frame of the car.'
'Don't tell me,' Decker said. 'They've got a red Honda with Marie Bellson's license plates.'
'Plates were removed, but yes, the frame appears to be a Honda. Fire department said color is hard to ascertain but a few spots appeared to have some red paint chips.'
Decker felt his heartbeat quicken as he related the story to Marge. To Hollander, he said, 'Maybe Marie Bellson's hiding in the mountains with the baby.'
'Well, Rabbi, there seems to be an adult body in the driver's seat - it's been burnt to a crisp.' Decker felt his throat go dry. 'And the baby?' 'Can't tell yet, Pete. It's still a mess down there.' 'Oh shit!' Decker turned to Marge and gave her a one-sentence synopsis. 'They don't know if the baby's in the wreck or not.'
'My God!' Cindy shrieked. Marge took her hand.
Decker felt like punching a wall. Please, please let Caitlin Rodriguez be okay. 'You want to give me directions, Mike?'
'Got them right here, Pete. By the way, do you remember the name of that woman dentist who identifies bodies by the teeth. We
worked with her on the Lindsey Bates case.'
'Annie Hennon.'
'Dr Hennon,' Hollander said. 'That's right. Her number should be in the department's file under experts, right?'
'Should be.'
'She was good-looking, wasn't she?'
'Yes, she was.'
Faye Kellerman - Decker 06 - Grievous Sin Page 15
