Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  Graham used his most pedantic tone. “You’re correct. We need to share this with the police. But I would hardly call this email a smoking gun. We’ve got a college kid alleging illegal activity with zero details about the activity, the participants, or the proof. She talks about a powerful senator. There are fifty state senators, right?”

  “Presumably this one has some role with the fracking legislation,” Alexa countered.

  “A sponsor, a co-sponsor, someone on the committee that approves the bill, or a fiscal committee that has to vet the bill, or someone in leadership.”

  “You’re right. The fracking connection doesn’t narrow things very much. And there must be more than a hundred lobbying firms in Harrisburg. I don’t have a clue how many of those might represent hydraulic fracturing companies. They’d be the ones to benefit from this legislation, right?”

  Graham leaned forward. “What legislation?”

  “Senate Bill 5100, the big bill about fracking on state lands. I went to the rally against it this weekend.”

  “I can’t imagine this is the only fracking-related bill under consideration.”

  “You’re probably right. I know of at least one more that keeps surfacing, related to taxes on fracking.” Graham’s methodical questions had calmed Alexa. “There is another person who might know about this―Keisha Washington.”

  “Might is the right word. Your intern assumes Keisha knows what’s going on, but she doesn’t say it with certainty.” Graham again played devil’s advocate.

  Alexa hesitated to voice her suspicion that Keisha could be shielding Senator Martinelli’s murderer with her silence about the men in the balcony. If she could cover up a murder . . . “I know Keisha pretty well, and Lauren was right about the emphasis the woman places on her career. I can’t say, though, whether she’d turn a blind eye to bribery and corruption.”

  “And when the police question this Keisha, she’ll say she has no idea what Lauren is talking about. Plus, you’re making another leap.”

  “I know. I know. Lauren doesn’t say anything about bribery and corruption. I’m making that assumption since a senator and lobbyist are involved. Classic rookie attorney mistake.” Alexa smiled.

  “Hey, sis. I understand. This is an emotional thing for you. This young girl’s death. A mention of fracking. You’re still hurting from John’s death, which had a clear link to fracking.”

  “And I feel like I failed this kid. Goddamn Spam.” Alexa collapsed into the chair by Graham’s desk.

  “I get it.” Graham’s voice was sympathetic.

  “I’m not sure you do. This girl asks for my help, in person and in writing. And then she dies before I can provide that help; before anything’s resolved. A week or so later, John asks me for commitment. He wants to move in together. Then he dies before I can answer, before anything’s resolved. I feel like I’m trapped in a quagmire and the only people who can help me climb out are ghosts. When I reach for one of their hands, I touch nothing but air. So I’ll never get out.” Alexa heaved a deep sigh.

  “Have you considered talking to anyone about all of this?” Graham used a careful tone.

  “I am. I’m talking to you. And I’ve spoken to Melissa and Tyrell. I was getting past my guilt over John. But now this kid’s email reaches me from beyond the grave. And it’s happening all over again.”

  “I meant a psychologist or something.”

  Alexa managed a flicker of a smile. “I know. But I’m OK. This email just threw me for a loop. So, counselor, what is your legal advice on this?”

  “It’s pretty straightforward. You share this email with the police. I know you’ll want to suggest again that her death may not have been accidental. That’s it. You don’t represent this dead girl or her estate. I don’t see any benefit to the parents by raising a suspicion that she could have been killed. If the police find anything, they will adjust the status of the investigation and follow through with her family. I know you’d like to do something more, Lexie. But, you cannot confront Keisha. That would potentially interfere with a police investigation. As an officer of the court, that simply is not an option.”

  “Thanks. You just confirmed my read on the whole thing. But it helped to talk it through. I’ll contact the police this morning.” Still distraught, Alexa pushed out of the chair and left the office.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Alexa returned to yoga class on Tuesday. She needed to get back into a routine, and yoga had helped her get through other stressful times in her life. She joined Melissa and Tyrell at the Om Café as usual.

  “Where’s Haley?” Tyrell asked.

  “She called me this afternoon. Said she was just too exhausted to make it,” Melissa answered.

  “She should be stockpiling extra sleep. She’ll need it after the baby comes,” Alexa joked.

  “I’m glad to see you here tonight.” Tyrell had a smug look on his face.

  “OK, I’ll admit it. Your talk helped.” She looked at Melissa. “Tyrell came out to the cabin last Sunday and did his whole social worker number on me. He’s pretty good at it.” Alexa grinned.

  “On Mother’s Day? Why weren’t you with your mom?” Melissa frowned at Tyrell.

  “I spent the whole day this past Sunday with my mama. I visited Alexa last Sunday. It took a whole ’nother week for her to make it to yoga.”

  “I did go to the rally against fracking on Saturday. Though it still feels like one step forward, two steps back. I got more bad news this week.” Alexa filled them in on the email from Lauren. “I called the police detective who investigated her death. He said he’d look into this new information. But I didn’t sense a whole lot of enthusiasm to open a closed case.”

  “If someone killed the kid, they should be jailed for life,” Melissa declared. “But the outcome is still the same. A young girl got so drunk and stupid that she fell in the Susquehanna and drowned. Or some bastard killed her because he wanted to keep the girl quiet. Either way, we’ve got a dead twenty-one-year-old.”

  “Damn, girl. When did you become so harsh?” Tyrell shook his head.

  “I just mean you can’t always save the world. Sometimes, bad things happen. When I went on that trip to India and Thailand with Cecily, we saw and heard all sorts of terrible stories from those victims of sex trafficking. Even the ones who had escaped their traffickers didn’t always end up with a rosy life. Cecily taught me that I couldn’t expect to lift every burden. Regardless, the intention to help is important. And, when you’re lucky, you see results.”

  “You’re right.” Alexa appreciated her friends’ attempts to rein her in. “But there’s more.”

  “About the intern?” Tyrell took a sip of cappuccino.

  “No, about Spanky.”

  “My God,” Melissa groaned. “I can’t believe we’re going to have another conversation about old Spanky.”

  “Young Spanky. They said he’s only twenty-one.” Alexa leaned forward. “I knew Spanky had a hearing coming up in a few weeks. Today, I got an unexpected call from Trooper Cannon. Evidently, Spanky’s public defender convinced him to take a plea. He admitted to shooting up all those cabins at Pine Grove Furnace. He admitted to shooting at the two farmers. So he’ll be in jail for the next year or so.”

  “Great,” Melissa exclaimed.

  “Problem is―Spanky still swears he had nothing to do with my hot tub incident. And Cannon and his partner, Davis, have concluded he might be telling the truth. They expected to turn up evidence confirming he shot at me, too. But they can’t find the gun. They viewed his alibi for that night as half-assed, then an independent source confirmed he was at a tractor-pull at the Farm Show. At the very same time someone nearly killed me.”

  “So who shot at you? Nothing else has happened since he went to jail, right? No strangers around the cabin? Or people stalking you on the street?” Tyrell asked.

  “No.” Alexa brushed aside the memory of the two men at the Grand Canyon. She’d overreacted there, just like with the kids
on the trail at Kings Gap.

  “None of this makes any sense. Did the cops look at your client list? You do a lot of Protection from Abuse orders. Maybe some asshole husband or boyfriend wanted to pay you back for a PFA?”

  At a loss, Alexa shrugged.

  Melissa pushed her empty teacup to the center of the table. “Hate to bail on the moral support, but I need to get home. Jim has a late shift tonight, so I’ve got Ansel duty.”

  Alexa pushed back her chair. “I’m going home too.”

  “Stay out of the hot tub tonight,” Tyrell warned as he rose. “I’d feel better if the cops could figure out who took those potshots at you.”

  Late Wednesday afternoon, Alexa rushed back to the office from a court hearing. She had hoped to leave the office an hour ago to begin preparing dinner. Jeannie was arriving around six.

  As she raced past Melinda’s desk, she noticed the expression on her assistant’s face. “Is something wrong?”

  Melinda stood. “Go ahead and put your briefcase down.” She followed Alexa into the office. “Your friend Jeannie called. She wants you to call her back right away.”

  “Is she running late?” Alexa smiled. “That’s good news.”

  “No. She’s not coming at all. Some sort of emergency with her daughter.” Melinda’s solemn expression signaled the emergency was not good.

  “Oh, no. Can you dial her for me while I put these papers away?” Alexa pulled the legal documents from her briefcase with a heavy heart.

  A few minutes later, Jeannie was on the line. “I’m in Philadelphia at the children’s hospital. Our local hospital airlifted Tessa here around noon. I went to wake her from her morning nap, but she didn’t respond. At first I thought she was dead. My baby was so pale. But, she was still breathing. So I called the ambulance. The ER got her stabilized and talked to her specialists in Philly. They think it’s a reaction to her medication. So they sent Tessa and me here on a helicopter. Tom’s driving down. I couldn’t reach him at first because he was out showing some homes in a remote part of the county. No cell service.”

  “I am so sorry. How is Tessa now?” Alexa asked.

  “They gave her medication, and she’s got some color in her cheeks. But she’s still not awake. My God, Alexa. She could die.” Jeannie broke down in tears.

  “I hope Tom gets there soon. You shouldn’t be alone. Did the doctors tell you she could die?”

  “No. They’re hopeful they can flush this experimental drug from her system―and then she’ll be OK.” Jeannie’s hopeful tone turned bitter. “OK meaning still terminally ill with a rare form of cancer.”

  “Hang in there.” Alexa’s words sounded hollow and inadequate to her own ears. Her heart ached for her friend.

  Jeannie’s voice held an undertone of anger. “I am really upset I won’t be there tomorrow to tell Tessa’s story to those politicians. We need to keep this from happening to other little kids, to other families. After some initial apprehension, I looked forward to testifying at this hearing.”

  “It’s more important you be with your daughter.”

  “I wouldn’t think of leaving. But could you give my testimony for me?”

  Jeannie’s request caught Alexa by surprise. “Do you have your testimony written out? I’m sure they would allow me to present for you, given the circumstances.”

  “I’ll email you a copy of my testimony. This is so important to me, Alexa. I want Tessa to be heard. I am praying she recovers, but she might not. So, that makes testifying even more important.”

  “You send me the testimony, and I’ll go over it tonight.” Alexa hesitated, and then plunged ahead. “One way to hammer home the message would be to show the senators a picture of Tessa. Do you have one you could send me?”

  “My phone is filled with photos of Tessa. I’ll send you one from before the contamination. And a more recent one.” Jeannie stopped and Alexa could hear her talking to someone in the background.

  “I’ve got to go, Alexa. Tom’s here. I’ll send you the testimony and the photos shortly. God bless you for helping out.” Jeannie cut the connection.

  Alexa sat back in her chair, absorbing the news. Of course she knew Tessa’s illness was critical, but she’d never come to grips with the reality that the child could die.

  Melinda came into the office. “How bad is it? Poor angel.”

  “Bad. I’m going to do Jeannie’s testimony tomorrow. She’ll be sending it through in a little while. I’ll revise the testimony with my name. I’ll need thirty copies. She’s sending me some photos too.”

  “Whatever you need. I can’t imagine what that poor woman is going through.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jeannie sent the testimony and two photos. The first photo showed a sunny child running with a small, fluffy brown and white dog. This had to be Patches, the dog that had died from the fracking water. Alexa winced at the second photo. Jeannie must have taken the picture just minutes before. It showed Tessa in her hospital bed, connected to machines, a breathing tube, and multiple wires and IVs. Her small pale body, clothed in a colorful printed gown, seemed lost against the big hospital bed and welter of equipment.

  Alexa picked up the phone. “Melissa, are you still at the gallery?”

  “Yeah. I have that new exhibit opening soon. I’m trying to sort through this artist’s work and figure out the best way to present it.”

  “Could you do me a favor?”

  When Alexa hung up the phone, she forwarded the two photos to Melissa. On the way home, she stopped at the gallery and picked up the prints. Melissa had blown up the pictures and placed them on two-foot by three-foot poster board.

  “This one is just heartbreaking.” Melissa pointed to the shot of Tessa in the hospital bed.

  “It is heartbreaking. That’s exactly what I want to show these senators. What a vote for fracking can mean in human terms. In desperately ill eight-year-old girl terms.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Carrying the big photo posters, Alexa hurried down the corridor that linked the capitol to the North Office Building. In the office building, she got turned around looking for the hearing room. Wandering, she came across a main door, in front of which sat two capitol policemen. Following their directions, she finally reached the correct room, tucked away a far corner. Walt Jordan stood out front, looking at his phone, a slim leather envelope under his arm. “Where’s Mrs. Demeter?” he asked as Alexa approached.

  “Bad news. Her daughter, Tessa, took a turn for the worse yesterday. They were flown to the hospital in Philadelphia. Tessa is a little better this morning―but Jeannie asked me to deliver her testimony.” Alexa paused. “Do you think that will be OK? I didn’t notify anyone.”

  “I hope the child continues to improve. I can’t see any problem with you filling in for her mother. Substitutes speak all the time in these hearings. Just get up when they call Mrs. Demeter’s name and explain.”

  “Are you staying for the hearing?”

  “Yes. We’re not in session, so I have all afternoon to hear what people are saying about this bill. It’s always interesting to hear what the senators on the committee might ask. They’re about ready to start.” Walt turned off his phone and dropped it into his envelope briefcase.

  The size of the crowd startled Alexa. She and Walt were lucky to find seats near the back. The senators sat facing the packed audience, arrayed behind an elevated desk that spanned the width of the room. Some spilled into tables at floor level. The setup reminded Alexa of one of those PBS shows where the British judges sat on high and harangued some poor, wrongly-accused peasant who stood in the docket. The only thing missing were the white wigs. She assumed the table centered in the front of the room was their version of the docket, the place she and the other presenters would sit.

  Only moments later, Senator Gabler pounded a giant gavel and announced the hearing was now in session. As executive director of the committee, Keisha sat beside the senator. Alexa also recognized the scrawny man sitting on the far
left, Senator Patterson, the worried man from the kitchen incident with Lauren.

  When the crowd quieted, Gabler said, “Before we begin the public testimony, I would like to stress the importance the committee puts on this bill. We understand some citizens oppose the prospect of expanding hydraulic fracturing and maximizing the use of other natural resources in our public parks and state-owned property. We also recognize that the Commonwealth’s financial situation continues to require innovative solutions to maintain critical programs, including a number of programs, like Medicaid, that we are obligated to fund under federal law. We’ve seen the positive impact hydraulic fracturing has had on the economic health of our communities. I, for one, look forward to hearing from the stakeholders, today, before the committee takes any action on Senate Bill 5100.”

  The room erupted into bedlam, with people cheering and booing. In response, Senator Gabler pounded his gavel and threatened to clear the room if the crowd would not come to order. “Senator Kozlowski, the minority chair, would also like to say a few introductory words.”

  As the second senator launched into an impassioned speech opposing the bill, Alexa noticed that, beside her, Walt had grown very still. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

  “Gabler has something up his sleeve, and I don’t like it. Did you hear him? Maximizing the use of other resources? They’re going to make this into a larger bill and get every company with interests in mining, timber, water, and God knows what else to support it. It’s like shooting the moon with our natural resources.”

  Alexa hadn’t read all of that into the senator’s words, but as a legislator, Walt was fluent in politician-speak. With a rising sense of disquiet, she assumed he was right. For a moment, Alexa remembered Keisha’s supposition that special interests had Walt in their pocket. If true, he’d just ruled out mining and timber.

  As the first person walked to the front to begin his testimony, Alexa took a long, hard look at her father’s old law school friend. She had mixed feelings about Senator Gabler. As a child, she’d enjoyed the attention he gave her and Graham. But as she’d moved into her teen years, his hearty manner and tendency to wax on began to feel a little phony. But her dad had good memories of the guy from their school days, and their families got together on a regular basis, even today. During the months they’d worked together on the trafficking commission, Alexa had come to view Silas as a typical politician. While the senator liked the PR he got from taking on a popular cause, he’d delegated everything to Keisha, Lauren, and Alexa. So she’d mainly seen him at the meetings, where the format constrained contact.