Forgotten Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  “You’ll be able to care for her,” Stephen suggested.

  “The people at Ha Kuna House do that,” Josie said. “What happens when I get her back to Hermosa Beach and the novelty wears off? I’d have to hire a day nurse so I could work. I’d have to care for her at night which would affect my relationship with Archer,” Josie went on. “And let’s talk about Hannah.”

  “Ah, yes, Hannah. The wayward, reckless woman-child.”

  Stephen tired of leaning against the doorjamb so he sidled to the bar, heaved himself on to a stool, slid open the door, and rattled the bottles. When he came up for air he had a bottle. A generous slug of his favorite scotch landed in his coffee. He was settled in the front row of the theater and so far the first act was quite intriguing. He couldn’t wait for the second.

  “I promised Hannah a home, not a rest home. Bringing Emily back would change everything. And there’s Archer. Can you imagine four people in a small house?” Josie punctuated her frustration with a sound that was half laugh and half groan.

  “Bigger houses can be had,” Stephen suggested.

  Josie would argue that her house was her home. Archer and Hannah were willing to make it theirs, but Emily couldn’t make a choice. She would be moved and set down like a beautiful, uncomfortable piece of furniture, a perpetual guest who couldn’t recognize her host. Yet, there was more to it than that.

  “I don’t know if I love my mother, Stephen.”

  He tilted his head but didn’t respond. What was there to say to someone like Josie? Those beautiful blue eyes of hers were bigger for the shock of bangs hanging messily across her brow. Her wide-necked t-shirt fell off one shoulder revealing just a hint of a fragile collarbone. Her long legs were bronzed and smooth, her shorts sexier because they were worn with such casual disregard. She looked young and vulnerable until one looked closely and saw that age and experience were the details that made her beautiful and substantive. She was an Amazon without her shield and bow, and the arrows loosed by the foe had pierced a skin Josie did not know was so thin. If Stephen had been another kind of man he would have swooped her up into his arms and into his bed with promises that he could do the impossible; love away her pain. Pity he was a righteous man.

  “That little confession calls for a bit of a different fortification.” He reached under the bar again. Josie joined him as he poured two tumblers full of whiskey and slid one her way.

  “If I took Emily with me I’d never know if she wanted to be with me. Maybe she was running away from me.”

  He drained his glass, and while he poured again he said: “You’re afraid, my girl. That’s the long and short of it.”

  “I am,” she admitted and Stephen thought that was a courageous thing. He put his hand over hers.

  “Give it a bit more effort, Josie. She’s your mum.” His hand slid away but Josie caught it and held it.

  “And Hannah? What do I do about Hannah?”

  “Your man’s got that covered.” Stephen lifted her hand and kissed it. Then he gave it a nice pat and said: “Come on. We’ve a lot of work to do.”

  Josie was about to tell him that she was done with it all, that she was tired of working on an unsolvable mystery, when something flashed in her brain. It was quick and unclear like a word on the tip of her tongue, so she scrambled after it before she lost even that much.

  “Stephen. What’s the name of the man who bought Ha Kuna House?”

  “What?”

  She clasped his hand tighter and gave it a shake. “You know, the guy who bought the place for fifty grand? You saw his name on the title.”

  “Robert Cote.” He peeled his hand away from hers so he could refill his glass. “Why?”

  “He’s the guy who signed most of those forms Amelia gave us.” Josie got off the bar. “Including my mother’s. And guess what? I’ve seen it somewhere else.”

  Josie hurried toward the office. By the time Stephen got there, she was already rifling through the pile of paperwork and notes she had accumulated.

  “Good grief, what are you doing, woman? I thought you were giving up?”

  “Guess not.”

  She shot him a grin and went back to what she was doing. Finally, she whipped a sheet of paper out of the pile. Josie shoved the court order committing Emily Bates to Ha Kuna House at him. Stephen squinted. She pointed.

  “Right here. Look on the back. It didn’t register when I first saw it. I was more concerned with the order itself.”

  “Damn hard to read. Ink’s faded. Ah, I’ve got it. ICE. In case of emergency. A phone number and initials. RC.” Stephen read out loud and then pulled back. “I would say that is just too strange a coincidence. It’s one thing to sign admission papers or buy a piece of property, but quite another to have the power to commit a person. Bit of a conflict of interest, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Let’s find out, shall we?” Josie picked up the phone. “Read the number to me.”

  She dialed as fast as he read. The phone was answered on the fourth ring. Josie gave Stephen a thumb’s up, but her smile faded when she heard:

  “Department of Homeland Security, how may I direct your call?”

  “C or K on Cote? – Archer

  “C. C-o-t-e.” – Josie

  “I’ll check when I get home. Day after tomorrow I’m headed out.” – Archer

  “No sign of her or Billy?” – Josie

  “It was a long shot. People only need so many pictures. She’s trading them for food so she’s probably moved on where the pickings aren’t so slim.” – Archer

  “I suppose.” – Josie

  “Sorry, babe. I don’t have anywhere else to go with this.” – Archer

  “I know.” – Josie

  “I’m not giving up.” – Archer

  “I know.” – Josie

  “I love you.” – Archer

  “Back at you.” – Josie

  CHAPTER 19

  The No Problem cut through the water with Josie at the helm and the absolutely gorgeous boat hand, Danny, kicking back, waiting for the wheel when she tired of fighting the waves. Stephen was below nursing an ‘upside down tummy.’ Josie had suggested that he stay on Maui but he was determined to be her moral support. He lasted all of ten minutes before the choppy sea got to him. She would have gone back, but she was late for her scheduled visit with the social worker and the ferry wouldn’t get her to Molokai on time. With the sound of the wind too loud for her to hear Stephen’s moans and laments, Josie let her thoughts wander to Mr. Robert Cote.

  He was not employed by Homeland Security as she assumed. Rather, he was retired from the Department of Defense. The phone number had simply been taken over by Homeland Security as they expanded into the offices of the DOD. It took twenty minutes of talking and checking for the woman on the other end to make the connection, but eventually it was made. Sadly, Josie couldn’t get the woman to tell her:

  Mr. Cote’s Department of Defense designation in 1986.

  Where Mr. Cote resided.

  Whether Mr. Cotes was alive.

  Or, what connection Mr. Cote might have to Ha Kuna House.

  Despite the lack of information, Josie was satisfied. She found her purpose once more. She put her self-doubt behind her and Emily’s welfare at the forefront. Archer would start a background on Mr. Cote, Stephen would talk to the old timers on Molokai who might have known him, and Josie had already drafted a petition for Judge Mohr to include Robert Cote’s employment records from Ha Kuna House, MPS, and the Department of Defense in his orders. Sadly, it would all take time and Josie was becoming impatient.

  The boat kicked and bucked over a particularly large swell. Josie grasped the wheel tighter and shook off the spray. She loved days like this: A little wild, a little challenging. It was time for her to keep her eye on the prize: Molokai. Somewhere on that island, in that house, there were the answers to her questions. When she had them, Josie was sure she would be amazed she hadn’t seen what it was all about sooner.

 
Josie pushed at the throttle. The No Problem hit the waves hard and fast and the boat fairly flew over the water. Danny was enjoying the ride. Below deck, Stephen Kyle moaned. If Josie had heard him, she would have pointed out that the only way to deal with misery was to endure until it was over.

  ***

  In a Homeland Security cubicle, the woman who had fielded the call about Robert Cote the afternoon before, looked at the time, and thought twice about inputting her data regarding the conversation. It was twelve-thirty and she had promised to meet her lover for a lunchtime quickie. Still, Cote was on the list and she didn’t want to be the bottleneck that clogged the system. Torn as she was, she opted to finish her work.

  She clicked on the flag, and waited for the screen to come up. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. She filled in the time, the date, referenced Robert Cote, entered the name of the woman inquiring, and attached a link to the recording of the conversation. It was now twelve thirty-nine. Precious minutes. Still, if she hurried she just would make it and the word quickie would take on a whole new meaning.

  She hit send.

  Robert Cote was no longer her problem.

  ***

  “Well, this has been a great meeting. Just great. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your information. Awesome, ladies.”

  Pilipa Foley, newly minted social worker for the State of Hawaii, was as fresh faced and eager as a kid on the first day of school. He was turned out in jeans, a shirt he had obviously pressed himself, and a tie. His briefcase was a canvas backpack. He filled out his standardized forms with painstaking precision, pleased as a puppy making it to the top of the stairs when he completed one.

  “So, Emily? Emily?” Pilipa leaned forward and did everything but snap his fingers to get her attention. When she turned his way, when she smiled her empty smile, he grinned back brightly. “Emily. Are you happy here?”

  Emily blinked. “Yes. My daughter has a lovely home.”

  Emily took Amelia’s hand. Pilipa colored. Josie watched, no longer shocked or hurt by Emily’s reality.

  “That’s Amelia. Do you know who this is? Emily? Do you know who this is?” Pilipa touched the older woman’s knee with one hand and Josie’s with the other.

  “No,” Emily answered.

  “Are you sure you don’t know her? Her name is Josie. Josephine Bates.” he tried again.

  “No. I–” Emily shook her head. “I don’t – I don’t think…No…”

  Emily dropped her head, her fingers laced into a fist and that fist bounced off her lap. Josie smiled at Pilipa Foley to ease his embarrassment. After he had a few hundred heart-wrenching cases under his belt, he wouldn’t think twice about something like this. Suddenly, Emily lifted her head and looked at Josie.

  “You swim in the ocean.”

  Josie was startled. Amelia sat up straighter and the two women shared a glance. Amelia nudged her with a look.

  Answer the woman.

  “When I was a girl I swam with my mother in Hawaii,” Josie said. “I got caught in a wave. My mother laughed.”

  “I’m sorry.” Emily’s hands were trembling. Josie didn’t hesitate. She took them in her own hoping this breath of a memory and her touch would bring Emily back to her.

  “Why are you sorry?” Josie asked.

  “Your mother shouldn’t laugh.”

  “It’s okay,” Josie whispered.

  “Were you afraid?”

  “Yes.” Josie admitted. “But my mother wouldn’t have let anything happen to me.”

  Josie wanted to say so much more. She wanted Emily to know that she was stronger for that day; it meant everything if Emily truly remembered it. If she had, the memory was now gone. She was looking at the front door.

  “May I go for a walk?”

  Pilipa shook off his surprise. He cleared his throat. “That’s fine. That would be good if you want to take her, Ms. Bates.”

  “Me? Alone?”

  “Yes, I need Ms. Francis for a few more minutes.”

  Josie was about to decline but changed her mind. If she couldn’t take Emily for a simple walk, what was she going to do once they got back to Hermosa?

  “Sure. Why not.”

  Amelia stood up, too. “Go out the front door and take the path to your right. She always went the other way with us.”

  Josie understood. They all tried so hard to get Emily to remember Josie and it was Ian who was granted that privilege.

  “Okay. Let’s go, mom.” Emily didn’t move.

  “She doesn’t remember she asked to go for a walk.” Amelia nudged Emily up, turned her, and handed her off to Josie. “She’ll go slow. You’re going to have to judge whether or not you’ve gone too far. If she gets tired she’ll just sit down. Or if she zones she’ll just stand in one place. It will be hard getting her back, so you really have to be aware.”

  “I’ll be careful. Thanks.” The transfer was made but Amelia watched until the two women were through the front door.

  Outside, Emily and Josie stood on the porch. Stopping and starting was exhausting and they had only gone across the room. Josie couldn’t imagine how long it would take them to walk The Strand at home if this was how things went.

  “Okay. We’ll wait a minute,” she said.

  As she waited for a sign from Emily, Josie thought of Stephen. No doubt he had an unpleasant journey back to Maui on the No Problem with Danny at the wheel, but she was happy she had insisted that he go home. It was nice to have quiet time with Emily. She opened her mouth, ready to share the story of Stephen and his seasickness, but one look at her mom told her that would be a waste of breath. Instead, she said: “Let’s walk now.”

  They went down the steps and Emily was surprisingly sure-footed. Josie laced her arm through Emily’s, not to keep her from falling but to keep her from wandering away. She squeezed a little closer. The contact felt so right.

  “I’m sorry you won’t remember that we took this walk together, mom.”

  They walked on steadily. Emily remained silent so Josie made her own conversation.

  “I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do to make you remember me. I hope you would be proud of me. I think you would love Archer and Hannah. I think you would love me.”

  The wind blew. The trees and flowers trembled and then stilled. A raindrop fell.

  “I’m sorry it’s going to rain.” Josie chuckled at the one-sided conversation. Then she stopped smiling. “I’m sorry about dad.”

  “I love Ian,” Emily said.

  “So I hear,” Josie sighed.

  Emily lifted her face to the breeze. Her hair ruffled and she looked beautiful. They walked down the path: a yard and then two. Another yard. Emily paused. They went further. Her step faltered. In the next few feet she stumbled. Josie caught her and Emily pulled her daughter closer, tighter.

  “I got you,” Josie assured her but something was wrong. Emily was pale. Her breathing was rapid. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay.” Emily repeated the word.

  “Are you sick?”

  “Sick.”

  Emily’s face was moist with perspiration. She trembled. Not just her arm but her whole body. Her jaw locked. Josie took hold of her with both hands.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s too far,” Josie babbled. “Come on. Turn around.”

  Josie tried to guide her, but Emily was rooted and wouldn’t budge. It was like she was frozen in the face of an oncoming train, but there was nothing scary in this place; there was nothing but trees and plants and beautiful things.

  “Emily. Please come with me,” Josie pleaded. “Mom, I don’t know what to do. Please help me.”

  Frantically, Josie looked for something out of place but concluded it had to be her. Had she said something? Done something? Is this what had happened all those years ago? Was it the daughter visiting some terror on the mother?

  “Please–” Josie begged.

  Just then Emily shuddered and her knees buckled. She started to fall. Above them
the sun disappeared behind a cloud and shadow rolled over them. Josie tried to lower Emily but she was dead weight and collapsed on to the dirt and on to her knees. Her face went into her hands. Her body jerked and Josie – strong as she was – could not hold her, raise her, or comfort her. She sure as heck couldn’t get her back to the house.

  “I’ll get help. Stay there. Stay there.”

  Josie shot off the ground and ran back the way they had come leaving her mother alone under an ever-darkening sky.

  ***

  Emily Bates knelt in the dirt with her face in her hands. If she didn’t look, she was safe. If she didn’t cry, she was safe. If she couldn’t be seen she was safe, so Emily made herself a small thing in the big forest. Time past, but she didn’t know how much. Fear paralyzed her, but she had no concept of what fear was.

  So Emily didn’t understand what was happening when a man got down on one knee in front of her. He took hold of her hands and tried to move them away from her face. He was strong but still it was difficult to move her. It was as if her hands were made of steel. That’s what she believed. But if she was made of steel, he was made of something stronger because he forced her hands to her side.

  She stared ahead but didn’t see him. Emily heard the wind but not the snort of curiosity from the man. He couldn’t believe she didn’t react when he got close. Not that it mattered. He knew what to do.

  He put one hand on her forehead and gently rubbed the space between her brows with his thumb. He cooed and rubbed. He was surprisingly patient. When the trembling subsided, he put her on her feet and turned her.

  “Let’s go.”

  At the sound of his voice Emily Bates began trembling all over again.

  ***

  The man who caught the memo at DOD was extraordinarily efficient. He drilled down on Robert Cote, took a second to note the dates of service, and then forwarded the whole thing to interested parties including the secretary to the division chief. She in turn, coded it and sent it on to the next level.

  And so the notice that someone inquired about Robert Cote snaked through the system. The information listed his last posting and all programs related to his service.