He stopped.
Laura’s mouth creaked open. Her shoes. The blue ones.
Her father watched the significance of his statement play across her face. He nodded. “Yeah. The ones you insisted you’d been wearing all day.”
Laura swallowed hard. “How … you saw that scene, just like that? After all those years?”
His eyes teared up.
“Why? Why then?”
Her father shook his head. “Don’t know. I guess stepping into your room …”
Laura looked away, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Great that he’d had the memory. But why’d it have to take so long? Why couldn’t he have remembered when she was arrested? When she was on trial? At least sometime in the last eight lonely years?
“I’m so sorry.” Her father blinked hard. “I can’t explain why it took so long to remember. I only know the day your mom was killed I was in such shock. And then everything happened so fast …”
Laura raised her chin. Let it fall.
“When I remembered that scene I got so lightheaded I sat down on your bed. For the next few days I kept going over and over it. Trying to shake the memory loose. But no. It wasn’t just wishful thinking. It was real.”
Laura could only breathe. In and out, in and out. Why had it taken a memory to make her father believe in her?
“And that’s when I began to see it. To understand everything you were trying to tell me. As crazy as it sounds, as much as it feels like some TV show, you were framed.”
He looked into her eyes—and must have seen the ambivalence swirling there. “I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but … I can never say it enough.”
No. He couldn’t.
Laura licked her lips. Now was not the time to sort through all her feelings. Visiting hours would be done before they knew it, and there was still so much to talk about.
“It’s okay, Dad.”
“I started going over all the ‘evidence’ in my head. And started realizing how easy it would have been for someone to pull your green shoes from your closet, make sure they got blood on them. Every piece of that trial I started seeing in a new light. Through the defense’s eyes, not the prosecution’s.”
Indignation still threatened to spill out of Laura. She held it back. “You think it was Roger Weiner?”
“Absolutely. Think about it. If he was out for revenge, what better way to do it? He’d kill your mom because she rejected him. Frame her daughter for the murder. And leave her husband with nothing. The whole family would be ruined.” Laura’s dad shook his head. “I can almost imagine him telling her all that when he came into the house. When he surprised her in our bedroom.”
Laura’s eyes widened. Could that be true? Could her mother have died knowing the coming ruin of her husband and daughter? She’d have fought with everything she had. She’d have fought for them.
Her dad ran a hand across his forehead. “We have to prove your innocence. Somehow. I’ll fight for you to my dying day.”
Warmth gushed through Laura. Yes, she’d waited years to hear this. Far too long. But at least she was hearing it. At least she had a plan now, after she got out. She didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Didn’t have to worry about facing life on her own.
“Do you know where Roger Weiner is? We have to bring him to justice for Mom.”
“I know. And no, I don’t know where he is. But I’m going to start looking for him. We’ve got eleven and a half months. By the time you get out I hope to have gathered all the evidence I can. And in the meantime I’m divorcing Tina. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve already seen an attorney.”
“Sounds like she won’t go easily.”
Her father gave her a wry smile. “No. And she’ll try to take me for everything she can. But we haven’t been married all that long. And most of my savings came from your mother. I’m not going to let Tina take your mother’s money from you.”
Laura blinked. She hadn’t thought for years about inheriting her mother’s money. Not since the trial, when Cantor claimed that was her reason for committing the crime.
Her dad looked at the large round clock on the day room wall. “How much time do we have?”
So little. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Okay.” He shifted in his chair. “Listen. I’ll keep coming to see you as often as possible. I’ll try for once a month. I’ll write you too. And call. But if I find new information about your case, I’m not going to give details in my letters or on the phone. I know they listen to calls and read everything. I just don’t trust the System anymore.”
No kidding.
“When I visit I’ll give you all the latest news.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll do this, Laura.”
She nodded.
“I know we’ve lost a lot of time. But now we have years to make it up. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. You can still have a wonderful life. Put this behind you, once you’re proven to be innocent. We’ll put it behind us.”
Laura smiled. She believed everything he said would happen. She had to.
“Yes, Dad. We will.”
Chapter 25
After Laura’s father visited, the days eked by, their hours longer and stingier than ever. Sometimes she thought they moved even more slowly now that she had hope. In his second visit her dad brought her a calendar. Laura began marking the days off until her twenty-fifth birthday.
One.
By one.
By one.
Her father remained true to his word and came every month. He started divorce proceedings against Tina. In June she moved out of the house. She’d hired a lawyer and had vowed to “break him.” He was seeing her true colors like never before. “That woman,” he told Laura, “is a witch.”
Information on her case was moving slowly. Her father couldn’t even locate Roger Weiner. Then finally in September he had breaking news. He and Laura had hardly sat down in the day room before he blurted it out. “I’ve found him!”
She sucked in a breath. “Where?”
Her father smacked a palm against his leg. “He’s in jail. Jail, Laura. Been there for years. He was convicted of assaulting a woman. Thank God she survived, but he almost killed her.”
Laura’s limbs went cold. “Where’d he do it? When?”
“He’d moved to Arizona. Apparently he was working in another hospital. It was a lot like the thing with your mom. He set his sights on some coworker, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. One night at the end of her shift he caught her in some storage room. He’d beaten her unconscious before someone heard noises and went to investigate.”
Laura’s mouth opened, then shut. So similar. She felt terrible for the woman and her family. But surely this would help their case. Weiner was a man now proven capable of deadly assault.
“This is huge,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
Laura thought of the calendar in her room. She’d stopped Xing out the squares and was now counting down until her release on March 15. One hundred eighty-one days to go. “What do you do now?”
“I’m trying to get the transcript of your trial. I want to go over every word.”
“Are you going to meet with Cantor, tell him what you know?”
“Not yet. It’ll take a lot to get his attention, and if I don’t go in with more than this from the beginning, I’ll probably never get another chance.”
“What about your memory—that I was wearing the blue shoes that day?”
Her father shook his head. “So what? That’s not evidence to Cantor. He could say I’m making it up.”
True. “Speaking of ‘evidence,’ he’s still got all the stuff, right? My green shoes? The hammer?”
“He’d better. Because at some point we’ll need them again.”
Laura rocked back in her chair, elated. This could really happen. They could really prove her innocence one day. Which would force the police
to look for the real killer.
For the rest of that visit they could talk of little else. Except that Laura’s father did tell her the divorce was coming along and should be final by the time she got out.
“No more Tina in our lives.” He grinned.
She grinned back. “No more Tina.”
How she hated that name.
October came … and November. Laura’s father had little more to tell her. “I’ve decided to call Cantor and set up a meeting—if he’ll see me. I told you I got the court transcripts. But no one will let me see the boxed-up evidence. Apparently Cantor’s the only one they’ll let open that box. Somehow I’m going to have to convince him.”
Laura stared at her lap, processing the news. “What’s new to see, though? The same spots on the shoes. Blood on the hammer. Cantor will explain them just like he did before.”
Her dad closed his eyes. “There has to be something. Something. And I’m going to find it.”
In December, with the day room decorated for Christmas, Laura’s dad looked worn as he entered. One glance at him and dread etched her veins. She sat him down and laid a hand on his leg. “What’s happened?”
He shook his head. “It’s just Tina. What I ever saw in that woman …”
“She giving you a harder time than usual?”
“The divorce is almost done.”
“Oh. That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Almost is the important word. Tina’s still fighting over the settlement. Now she’s found out I’ve been asking about your case. Guess somebody in the D.A.’s office told her. She called me, smirking about it—because it’ll help her. She said she’ll use it against me in court. Say I’m so crazy that I believe in my guilty daughter’s innocence. That you’ve turned me against her. That you’re just after the money. Again. And you should never get it, which eventually you will, if I get to keep it. So more should go to her.”
Rage knocked up Laura’s spine. How dare that woman say a thing against her. And to treat her father like that! “So what, Dad? She can talk all she wants. Doesn’t mean her threats will work. And even if you do have to give her more money, in the end you’ll be rid of her.”
“It’s not that, Laura. If it was just the money …” He shook his head. “It’s what she can do against your case. I know she’s talking to Cantor. She’ll do everything possible to keep us from moving forward.”
Laura’s mouth dropped open. “She’d do that?”
“You have no idea how set she is on getting every penny out of me. And because I’ve fought her, she’s turned vindictive. She’ll use her ‘inside knowledge’ of our family to convince Cantor I’ve gone over the edge. That I can’t deal with the reality of your guilt.”
No. “Can she really stop us?”
Her father ran a hand across his jaw. “Detectives and prosecutors are tight. They work together all the time. No telling the lies she’s saying about me. And Cantor has every reason to listen to her. Listening to me means putting his conviction at risk. What prosecutor’s gonna do that?”
Laura couldn’t talk. After everything that had happened, this couldn’t be real.
When visiting hours were over, she returned to her room with lead in her stomach. “I’ll fight for you to my dying day.” Now her father may not be able to keep that promise.
After that visit Laura’s days seemed to grind to a near halt. She prayed and prayed for God’s help. But hatred toward Tina Fulder boiled in her heart. Would God listen to her if she hated someone? Even if that person deserved it?
Eternity passed.
Finally the year 2004 dawned. By the time Laura would see her father in his mid-January visit, she’d have less than sixty days to go.
She called him collect the week before his visit. Never imagining what was to come.
“Dad, hi.”
“Laura.”
Her breath caught. “What’s wrong?”
“I …”
She could hear him pulling in air. Trying to talk.
“The divorce is through. Thank God.”
“Oh. Good.” Laura waited for more but nothing came. “Dad, what is it?”
“So much has happened. I don’t even know where to start.”
Laura could only grip the phone.
“First, Roger Weiner’s out of jail.”
“What? Already?”
“He didn’t serve all his time. He came up before parole board, and they let him go.”
Laura could hardly process that. A guilty man, back out on the streets, while she was still in prison?
“Then we’ve got to put him back in jail, Dad. For Mom’s murder! Go to Cantor about him.”
“I’ve tried.” Laura’s dad sounded so defeated. “He wouldn’t see me. The case is done, the ‘guilty’ suspect has been convicted. Cantor finally talked to me—and told me to stop calling.”
Laura stared at the drab wall. So this was it? She could never prove her innocence. For the rest of her life she’d be branded as a murderer. And never see justice on behalf of her mother. How could she live with that?
“But, Laura …”
For the rest of her life. “Yeah.”
“Now I’ve found … something new.”
“About my case?”
A beat passed. “Yes.”
Laura’s pulse snagged. “Tell me.”
“I can’t … I’ll need to come see you.”
“I want to know now!”
“I can’t. Not on the phone.”
Laura smacked the wall with her palm. Why was her entire life about waiting? “You’re still coming next week, right?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you then. Everything. I’ll have to tell you everything.”
The way he said that last sentence. With such pain in his voice. “Will it help us? Just tell me that much.”
More silence.
“Dad?”
“Yes.” His voice choked.
He had found evidence against Weiner!
“Okay. Good, Dad. Good.”
What was that sound? Was he crying?
“I love you, Laura.”
“I love you too.”
“I love you so much. And I loved your mom. It’s my fault. I should have protected her.”
“You couldn’t have known what he’d do, Dad.”
They needed to hang up. Collect calls were so expensive. “I’ll see you next week, Laura.”
“Okay. Can’t wait.”
She placed the phone in its receiver and slumped against the wall. Finally. Finally!
The week leading to her father’s visit would never pass. Laura paced her room. Prayed. Tried to sleep the time away. Sleep wouldn’t come.
Five days later Laura was called into the floor supervisor’s office. Told to sit down. What had she done? Girls were never called into that room unless there was a major problem.
Please, whatever it is—don’t take my father’s visit from me!
Florence Wright was tall and stern-looking, with short hair and a square jaw. But at the moment she looked almost compassionate.
Laura sat, her heart tilting. What?
“I’m so, so sorry to tell you this, Laura.” Ms. Wright sat beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I have sad news.”
Laura stopped breathing.
“This morning your father was in a car accident. They did everything they could to save him. But by the time rescuers could get to him, he was dead.”
April 2013
Chapter 26
The morning after my engagement I lay in bed staring at my outstretched left hand. Emotions warred within me. Hope. Joy. Relief. Fear. Dread.
If I had known what was to come on that day, I would have pulled the covers over my head and never moved.
As it was, I ogled my ring, hardly believing it was there. The pain and shock of Clara’s death still gripped me. And yet … here was this promise of new life. A family. What I
’d dreamed of for so many years.
After I said “yes” the previous night, Andy and I had talked for hours about so many things. I could still barely process it all. He’d brought up the subject of where we would live. Where I might find a job—if I wanted. Andy made it clear that I didn’t have to work. If I was content to stay home and take care of the house, that was fine with him.
“Do you want to move into my place in Redbud?” he asked. “Or would you rather go to Lexington, where we could find a much grander house?”
I squeezed his hand. “I don’t need a grand house. I’d much rather stay in Redbud, where I know people.” There I could be close to my own house, which I wouldn’t sell. As far as I was concerned, Pete, Nicole and Colleen could stay right where they were.
Andy and I had also talked about our engagement. With the town of Redbud still mourning Clara, this wasn’t the time to announce it to the world. “I’d love to run through the streets shouting you’ll be my wife, but …” Andy winced.
I thought of the dreams I’d had about this moment. How I’d be calling everyone I knew. Now the very idea seemed callous.
“You won’t need to shout in the streets. All we need is for Colleen to see my ring. She’ll tell everybody who comes into Grangers, plus those passing by on the sidewalk.”
Andy gave me a rueful smile. “Oh, boy.”
“I’ll just tell her we want to keep it a quiet engagement for now because of Clara. Colleen will make sure to include that bit of information when she’s spreading it across town.”
Andy laughed.
When I’d arrived home Colleen and Nicole were still up. As expected they made a huge fuss over my ring, oohing and aahing. I assured them they needn’t worry about moving from the house once I was married. And I cued them in that Andy and I wanted to “keep the engagement quiet” for now.
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