“Ellen’s mother? I was planning on it. But what makes you say that?”
“It’s just that...well, as bad as it sounds, the first time I walked out of that house I was not sure if Ellen was guilty of killing her Dad or not. But I also felt like if she was guilty, she had her reasons.”
“And you still feel that way?”
“Just go talk to her.”
“I was planning on going tomorrow first thing. I want to hear her side of the story.”
They talked for another hour, finding each other’s company surprisingly pleasant. Loretta’s immersion in the Christian church and Larsen’s life with the Feds had similarities: these institutions gave shape to a meaningless, dangerous world. She had survived on the back of Jeffrey and Jesus. Not particularly inclined to religion or marriage, Larsen had given himself up to the FBI, an equally hierarchical, patriarchal system. Undercurrents of restlessness at the present state of their lives stirred through the conversation. At the end of that hour, at one-thirty in the morning, Loretta had to force herself up and away from the table.
“Well, good night,” she said, offering him a hand. He rose.
“Yeah...you sure made my evening a lot more pleasant than it would have been.”
“Yes, its been...very nice talking with you, Mr. Larsen.”
“John, please. Call me John.” He dropped her hand, suddenly aware that he’d held it a little too long—and that she’d let him. “Well, good luck with Mrs. Longford tomorrow.”
“See you in court?”
“I guess so. One way or the other.”
“Right. Bye John.” Loretta walked away, wondering what had gotten into her as she imagined herself going not back to her own room but off into the night with John Larsen, black FBI agent. She walked into the lobby of the Tremonton Inn, and there sat the big man behind the reception counter, looking grim beneath his ABSOLUTELY NO PETS ALLOWED sign.
“Mrs. Graves?” he asked a little primly.
“Yes?” she said.
“Your husband called again, about...” he looked at his watch...”oh, 45 minutes ago. I told him you’d checked in. He said to tell you to call him tonight no matter how late it was.”
Loretta’s face reddened. “Oh, thanks,” she said. “I had...a late flight, and needed something to eat.”
“I’m sure,” said the clerk. “Would you like me to dial for you, and ring him through to your room?” he asked.
“No, that’s all right. I need a few minutes to...”
“I can wait.”
“No, I’ll do it myself, thanks,” she snapped. “Good night.” She turned and headed down the hall, embarrassed and irked at herself for feeling that way. As if that large little man’s judgement of her meant anything at all. But what was she going to say to Jeffrey? He and the world he represented—her whole life prior to meeting her sister—seemed distant at the moment, and not quite real.
She tried to focus on her children as she called home. Jeffrey answered halfway through the first ring. “Loretta. It’s late. Why weren’t you in your...”
“Hi, Jeffrey. I went to get some dinner. How are the kids? I hadn’t had a chance to...”
“They’re fine. I spoke with Kenneth Stampfel in the Salt Lake office. They’re going to assemble a group for the...for the hearing, and for the trial if there is one. It’s...”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Jeffrey. This girl needs quiet coaxing, not...”
“I don’t believe you know what she needs any more, Loretta. Nor does it ultimately matter. It is her child we are concerned with here. I think you have been...unduly influenced...by your godless sister, and her ideas about...”
“My sister isn’t...well, she may be...godless, as you say, but she is a good person, and...”
“That doesn’t matter. This is not about your sister. This is about an unborn child whose life you have had a chance to save, and you have thus far failed.”
“Failed?! What are you saying, Jeffrey? The pregnancy is still viable. There has been no abortion. I’m trying to help the mother...the girl. She...when this baby is born, her mother has to be there, Jeffrey. If she’s not, then...”
“You hardly have the right to say that at this point in time. You certainly haven’t been here for your children lately.”
“Jeffrey...how can you be so...I haven’t spent more than two days away from you and the kids since...Lord, since they were born. Now I’m...trying to do something right on my own and all you can do is criticize and judge me. It’s like all the years where you encouraged me to finish school and pass the bar and do all the things I wanted to do don’t mean anything, now that once in my life I’m doing something that you don’t...”
“Loretta, you have crossed some...line...that I didn’t even know existed until now. And you still can’t see it. Until you come back across it, I can’t...I obviously can’t reason with you. Not in the way of our good Lord. I am praying for you. We are all praying for you. Good night.”
“Wait, Jeffrey. Wait, I...” He hung up. She wailed, slamming down the phone. “God damn motherfucker!” she sobbed, then shut up abruptly, suddenly aware of her own words. “Jesus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, please forgive me.” She got a hold of herself, and went into the bathroom to clean up. Calmly she looked into the mirror at her swollen eyes, tear-stained face. She saw Lucy looking back at her.
Loretta headed out at 7 a.m. the next morning, intent on catching Mrs. Longford over her morning coffee, when she’d be in a robe, domestic and drowsy in the early day. The house was just five minutes away, and stood out slightly among a block of similar two story homes in that the landscaping had gone a little shabby around the edges. Maybe she projected her own feelings about the Longford family onto the house itself, but Loretta couldn’t help but feel it looked a little haunted and heartbroken as she parked out front, assessed the street, brushed her blue lawyer suit smooth, and headed up the walkway, work bag in hand. She wore her hair pulled back, no make-up, a small gold cross outside her shirt but inside her coat where it would be visible but not ostentatiously so. She hadn’t quite figured the Mormon thing out; she had been warned that they were apostate or heretic or not quite Christian in the approved sense—but they were also known to be god-fearing, and the name of Jesus played a prominent role in the name of their church. And so the cross, worn discreetly.
She knocked gently on the door, and a moment later it opened a few inches. Mrs. Longford appeared, and Loretta saw a brief flicker of recognition light her eyes. “Yes? May I help you?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Longford. I’m Loretta Graves.”
“Loretta Graves?” She looked puzzled for a second; then she knew. “Loretta Graves the lawyer, the one who...you’re here because of...because of my daughter.”
“I am. I just wanted to...”
“I’ve been...warned about discussing any of this with you...you know I’m supposed to be a witness for the prosecution, Mrs. Graves. I can’t...”
“I understand your position. But I would like to...discuss certain aspects of the...I hesitate to say the case...let’s just say, the situation...with you. It may be possible to...reach an understanding without going to court at all. Maybe we can settle this whole thing at the hearing this morning.” She kept her eyes on the other woman’s face, and tried for a gentle, supportive tone as she went on. “Lord knows it may be in everybody’s interest to do that.”
Mrs. Longford stared at Loretta for a few long seconds. Then she swung the door open. “Come in.” Loretta followed her into the house, took in the living room to the right, went through a little-used dining room into the kitchen. Two boys sat at a small counter eating bowls of cereal and watching TV. “Boys, we have a visitor. Jeb, Jacob, this is Mrs. Graves.”
“Please, Loretta will do. Hi, boys. What are you watching?”
“Nothin’,” said the larger one.
“Power Dog,” said the smaller one. “It’s about this regular dog who’s like, when his ma
ster gets in trouble he gets super powers, like he can fly, and...”
“Time to get the bus, boys,” said Mrs. Longford. She clapped her hands twice. “Chop chop. Let’s go.” They jumped up, put their cereal bowls in the sink, and left the room. “Just a minute, OK?” she said to Loretta, following the boys. “I’ll be right back. Grab some coffee. Cups are up there.” She pointed.
“Thanks.” Loretta got herself a cup of coffee and inspected the kitchen while she waited. Nothing jumped out at her. A typical kitchen, colorful, warm, and cluttered. She heard the front door close. Mrs. Longford came back in.
“Sorry for the mess, Mrs. Graves. I usually pick up after...”
“I have three of my own, Mrs. Longford. There’s no need to apologize. And please, it’s Loretta.”
“Well, all right. My name is Dorothy, but a lot of people call me Dotty.” She smiled. “Not exactly flattering, is it?”
“Dorothy’s a pretty name. Makes me think of The Wizard of Oz.”
“That’s nice,” Mrs. Longford said. “I remember when I was a little girl since I was Dorothy I wanted to get a dog and name him Toto, but...” her face fell a little. “My parents didn’t want a dog, so...”
“Where did you grow up?” Loretta asked.
“Erskine, California,” she said. “A little town east of Sacramento. Don’t even know if it’s still there. That is, when we weren’t on the road,” she added. “My dad was...he worked the fields. He was a farmer.” She straightened up. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about. More coffee?”
“Yes, please, ma’am,” Loretta said. They sat across from each other at the counter. Dorothy glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen. In an hour she’d have to get dressed and go downtown. Go through this...horror. And yet she knew she’d get through it. She hadn’t had a drink in five days. She’d manage.
“How is Ellen?” she asked after a moment.
“Confused,” Loretta said. “Confused and scared.” She paused, and added softly, “Did you know she was pregnant?”
“Pregnant? Oh my God.” No, she hadn’t known. Loretta could see that.
“That’s why I wanted to...to defend her,” said Loretta. “I want to make sure she has her baby, even if...”
“Even if what?” Dorothy said, interrupting. “Even if she...did it? Killed her father?”
“I think you know what I’m referring to,” Loretta responded quietly. She hesitated, then went on. “Did anyone in the DA’s office talk to you about any of the evidence that has been entered into the record for this case?”
“Evidence? You mean, like, the pictures they took in Ellen’s room, and...”
“Mrs. Longford, what do you want to...I mean, if Ellen is guilty, what do you think should happen to her? And to her baby?”
“I don’t know. I...God, if you only could understand how...confusing this is! I’ve been...At first I just wanted...wanted them to get her! Just to get her. I felt completely...angry. But then I...but why am I telling you this? You’re not...”
“There’s a videotape. They obviously haven’t told you.”
“A videotape? What do you mean?”
“Ellen made it. Lord knows...my God, Dorothy, I didn’t want to be the one to...she did kill him, you understand.”
“She made a videotape of...how could she hold the...the camera?”
“There’s more than the murder on the tape, Dorothy. Ellen set the camera up in her closet.”
“In her closet?”
“Yes. Pointing...pointing towards her bed.” They stared at each other.
“So the video shows...” Dorothy couldn’t finish.
“Why she did it.” Their coffee cups were empty. The kitchen was quiet but for the low hum of appliances, a dog barking down the block.
“I don’t want to see it. I don’t need to see it.”
“I....was 17 years old when I met Arthur. And my daddy wasn’t a farmer he was a fruit picker. A migrant worker. We lived in trailers all my life. Didn’t have anything, you see? You probably can’t imagine what it was like, you bein’ a lawyer and all. So along comes this handsome soldier boy, met him at a bar in downtown Sacramento. He was cheatin’ on the church a little, havin’ a beer, so I didn’t think much about the LDS thing then. And I looked older than my years in those days. Seventeen goin’ on twenty-five. Next thing I knew I was married and living in Salt Lake City while he finished school. Never saw him drink another drop, either. I converted to LDS and all—not that that ever really took, it’s too...well, different for me—but then when I didn’t get pregnant for a couple of years we decided to adopt, because Arthur really wanted kids. That’s where Ellen’s from. She’s adopted. Then Arthur started working as an engineer and pretty soon we were living better and better. We moved here when she was about 10. And then I got pregnant, and had first one boy, and then the other boy. Seemed like everything was going to be fine. Till Ellen went strange on us. I didn’t know what it was at first, she was a happy girl, then she became all withdrawn, and sullen, and wouldn’t talk to me. I...I started cheatin’ on the Mormon rules then, started drinkin’ lemonade with gin, and...” tears came to her eyes and flowed out freely. “I guess I knew all along what was goin’ on, since Arthur stopped...well, our marital relations had always been difficult...but Arthur stopped even tryin’, and I guess that’s when I wondered. And the more difficult Ellen got the angrier I got at her, and Arthur kept saying he would take care of it. He would, you know, go and...I thought he was pretty hard on her, but I didn’t dare question what he was doing to keep her in line, he had always claimed that as his right and responsibility. So he would...take care of it.” She stopped.
“How old was Ellen when...this all started?”
“I don’t know...maybe thirteen. Twelve.”
“And she’s just turned sixteen.”
“Yes. And you probably wonder how I could...how I could let something like this go on for...for four years, don’t you?” she said bitterly. “I don’t suppose your husband ever makes you feel like...lower than the worms that crawl in the earth.”
Loretta stood and came round the counter and put her arms around Dorothy. “I’m sorry, Dorothy, I’m so sorry...I know...I can only imagine how hard this is for you.” The tears flowed from her eyes too. She wondered what Jeffrey would make of all this. What came to mind first was an image of his face, flushed with self-righteous disapproval of her actions. That face was far too familiar. No, he didn’t make her feel like a worm. Only like a dog that has disobeyed her master. She felt a surge of anger.
“He never even...I didn’t dare say what I was thinking. What I knew was going on,” Dorothy said. “I wouldn’t hardly even think about it. He was too...he would have...my boys, I couldn’t let them know what their Daddy was doing, they worshipped the ground he walked on. He was a good father to them.”
“I’m sure he was,” Loretta said.
“So instead I blamed Ellen,” Dorothy said sadly. “And somehow in my...God...I was drinking...I only stopped a few days ago, Loretta, you have to understand...” she said. “I managed to...to...to justify it! By saying she was adopted, and she had...we called it “bad blood”, and that since I couldn’t...satisfy his needs, it was...you see...none of this was ever said, but it simply became...the way...we lived.” She looked down, crying softly. “I know why Ellen killed him. Sometimes I wish she had killed me too!”
“But then your boys would be alone in the world,” Loretta said. “They need you, Dorothy.” She went around and sat down again. “Have you ever thought of praying, Dorothy?” she whispered. “Praying to Jesus for guidance, for assistance.” Oddly, she felt foolish, talking that talk. It was almost as if she’d done it out of habit; as if Jeffrey was talking through her.
Dorothy looked at her, suddenly dry-eyed. “Oh, please, Mrs. Graves. Spare me the Jesus talk. There was nobody out there listening—-to me, or to Ellen. We were...she was...all alone. That’s why she...”
“I know...I’m sorry I said t
hat. It’s just that...He has helped me, at times, when I felt like I had nowhere to turn.”
Dorothy stared at her. “You want to know something, Loretta. As much as this whole thing has hurt me and has really devastated the boys, I have to confess something. I have...this sounds terribly cold and selfish, I know, but...I have been...I don’t know if happier is the right word...but I have had this sense of...freedom, of being let out of jail, out from under, ever since he...ever since it happened. I know I should feel badly, and I do, but...Arthur Longford was not a good man. I was married to him and I even loved him once, but...I can not forgive him for what he did to my daughter, and to me.”
She stood. “Well, I guess you got what you wanted. The thing that matters most to me now is protecting my boys. I don’t want them ever to know what happened here, if they don’t already know. And if they do, well maybe they’ve learned one bad lesson from their mother: how to pretend everything’s OK. When it’s not. So why don’t we go to this hearing and reach an understanding with the prosecutors or whoever it is we need to talk to, and work something out so no one else gets hurt any worse than they already are. Not my boys, and not Ellen. I don’t think she’s going to want to come home, and I’m not sure I want her to, but I don’t think she should go to jail for this. Do you?”
“No, but...what about her baby?”
“She’s sixteen, and her father is the father! Would you have her keep it?”
“I am a staunch anti-abortionist, Mrs. Longford. There’s no question in my mind, no matter what. Besides, since Ellen was adopted, the genetic issues are not relevant.”
“What about the moral issues? But you don’t need to worry anyway. Around here, abortion is not an option, Mrs. Graves.”
“But Ellen is too young to keep the baby. And she might be...well, who knows where she’s going to end up. Or how she’s going to feel about the baby, for that matter.”
“Well, I know I can’t possibly...take this child. My God, I...”
“I didn’t mean to suggest you should, Dorothy.”
Utah: A Lucy Ripken Mystery (The Lucy Ripken Mysteries Book 7) Page 25
