by Lori Zaremba
The faithful duo headed down the back stairwell as usual. Some intuition told Chelsea not to go out that morning, but Caesar needed to be tended to, so she pushed past her trepidation and descended carefully down the ragged stairwell.
Halfway down and nowhere to go, there was an awful moan and a crack.
Caesar fell first. Chelsea heard him yelp when he hit the ground far, far below. She held on to a piece of the lumber secured to the wall for as long as she could, but her hands trembled and became numb, and she couldn’t maintain her grip.
The last thing she remembered was falling.
***
Trudy
Trudy crouched down beside Dana, who was coming out of her trance. She pulled a bottle of water from her belt and held it to Dana’s lips, who gratefully took a sip.
They were all in a stupor after hearing Chelsea speaking through Dana.
Trudy took a deep breath and kept herself busy, fussing over the psychic while she composed herself.
“Okay, what’s next?” Jason reached over to help Trudy to her feet in the cramped space.
She looked around, locating her cell phone on a box behind her.
“We start digging.” Trudy tossed the phone to Tyler. “Call Ryan and tell him we need a forensic unit here ASAP. Tell him he may want to call his judge.”
Tyler raised a questioning brow to Trudy.
“Don’t worry. He’ll know what I mean.”
She turned to Jason and asked if he could carry Dana, who had passed out again, to her bedroom.
He quickly scooped up Dana’s tiny form and carried her down the corridor. Trudy picked up the camera and called the dog.
“Don’t worry, Chelsea. I promise we will find you and Caesar,” she whispered to the dark space.
Trudy tucked Dana into her bed before going to her room to quickly change her clothes. She then headed down to the basement where the forensic unit was already setting up.
She gave Ryan the short story, and he ordered the crew to start digging in the coal cellar. He told her Judge Ross was on her way.
She found Jason on his cell phone. He hung up as she approached.
“Are you getting ready to go?”
“Now? Are you kidding?” He shook his head, still in shock. “I have to see this through to the end. I’ll head out in the morning.”
Trudy, without thinking, reached out to take his hand in hers as she found herself sinking into his tender eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, Jason.”
Pulling her against his body and resting his chin in her hair, he said gruffly, “Me too, Gertrude, me too.”
“Trudy, there you are!” Leslie picked her way through the forensic equipment to reach them.
Trudy could tell Leslie was crying, as her eyes were puffy and red.
“I want to help find Chelsea,” she sobbed, having heard Dana tell Chelsea’s story through the microphone of the camera. “Oh, that poor, sweet child.”
Trudy hugged her friend close to comfort her.
Leslie had always been the champion of children. Most of the cases she took on at her law practice were those that involved protecting children or prosecuting those who wished to harm them.
The trio walked somberly to the area under the stairwell. The bottom was piled over twenty feet high with debris that spread over a twenty-five-foot area.
“If Chelsea is anywhere, it would be right here.” Jason looked at the ominous task ahead of them. “You would think that with all the owners of this place that someone would have addressed this.”
Leslie wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She began pulling out splintered boards and plaster.
“They more than likely got scared off, probably well before they could even consider it.”
Trudy jumped in to help her.
Jason showed up with several pairs of gloves, and they started removing and stacking the debris in the corner. “I found something,” Jason called. He held up a small scrap of wood with a faded piece of gingham fabric attached.
Trudy stepped over to get a closer look. It did look like fabric for a dress.
They heard someone shout in the other room, and she handed Jason a plastic baggie to collect the evidence.
Ryan came over to tell them they found the bodies. “It looks like they must have been chopped to pieces before being buried,” he said, making Leslie gasp. “We’re going to be in for a long night, removing all the parts.”
“Good work, Detective.” Ryan looked at Trudy sincerely.
Smiling wearily, Trudy looked up from where she was stacking wood. “It’s not over until we find Chelsea.”
He nodded and told her he would find help to dig through the rubble, and he sent over two young rookies.
Roberts and Henry were fresh out of the police academy and full of confidence and malarkey.
They tried Trudy’s patience, as she was irritated and exhausted, but they worked hard, clearing away the debris.
Two hours later, they found Chelsea and Caesar.
Their bones were intertwined like they had held on to each other as they landed or perhaps reached out to each other as they took their last breaths. Their skeletons were intact other than broken bones and fractures to their skulls. Chelsea still wore scraps of the gingham dress.
Trudy, Leslie, Jason, and the two rookies said a little prayer over the corpses.
“I will pay whatever it takes for Chelsea to be buried properly with her faithful companion.” Leslie sobbed as tears cleared a path through the soot on her face.
Walking wearily up the basement steps, they stopped to look at the marble floor at the base of the steps in the foyer and then up at the giant chandelier that hung above them. Trudy could feel the shiver that ran through Leslie’s body.
Voices were coming from the dining room, and when they arrived, Dana, the Johnsons, several police officers, and a woman sat at one end of the large table. The woman wiped tears away discreetly with a tissue tucked tightly in her palm. Trudy figured this was Judge Ross, Douglas’s granddaughter.
Dana had told them the whole sad story. Finished now, the officers stood, and the judge closed the journal she was writing in.
Trudy went over to introduce herself, as did Leslie and Jason.
“Please, call me Abigail.” She pulled Trudy, grime and all, in for a hug. “Thank you from the Chicago Department of Justice, my family, and myself. This mystery of my missing grandfather had affected our family for generations.”
Trudy excused herself and went to the control room to retrieve the flask from her forgotten sweater.
She handed it to Abigail, who recognized it from the story Dana had told.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she looked at the figure on the flask. “She loved him when she gave this to him.”
“I don’t think she ever stopped loving him,” Trudy said softly.
Abigail thanked them again, and Leslie walked out with the judge so she could make arrangements for Chelsea.
Dana looked exhausted as she told them she had a spiritual group coming to the house tomorrow to help the dead cross over.
Trudy turned to the Johnsons. “Your house will now belong to you.”
Beverly started sobbing, and Paul immediately pulled her into his arms. Over Beverly’s head, he whispered his thanks.
Chapter 21
Trudy climbed the steps slowly to her third-floor room for the last night she would spend in the house. She took her time and thought of all the clues that led them to solve the investigation. Pausing on the step where Vanessa had lost her balance, she realized it was the same step she too almost slipped on that first night, and that damn rubber ball in Leslie’s room. She shook her head and continued up to the third floor.
Trudy lovingly ran her hand over the chintz wallpaper that adorned the hallway. She could already feel the difference in the atmosphere of the home. It was lighter, happier.
Dana would now be able to cross the spirits over with the help of her friends, one of whom was a pri
est. Trudy hadn’t decided if she would stay to observe, because as of right now, she was too damn exhausted. Arriving at the door to her room, she hesitated while looking across the hall to Jason’s room. Trudy couldn’t see light coming from under the door and wondered if he was already asleep.
She sighed as a wave of something akin to sorrow settled over her. She turned and went into her room and padded straight into the shower, standing under the stream until all the grime and horrors of the day rinsed from her body. A half-hour later, she slipped on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that she wore instead of pajamas.
Trudy was more than a little surprised to see Jason sound asleep in her bed. Pausing, a bit unsure, her hand rising to cover her heart and the scar slightly above, she watched him slumber.
Jason rolled over and mumbled her name, still half asleep, and he held out his hand.
Smiling, she slid between the sheets next to him, giddy when he pulled her close.
Burying her face into his shoulder, his skin was slightly damp from his shower and smelled fresh from the soap that he used. Trudy briefly fantasized about the ways she would like to say goodbye to him but instead went peacefully into untroubled sleep.
The light of the full moon teased the room with its soft translucence, waking Trudy. She turned to watch Jason’s sleeping form. His face looked like a young man’s in the dim light. She figured after tonight she may never see him again, and she wanted to hold his image in her memory.
She traced her finger along his lips, and the soft caress woke him. He shifted so her head could rest in the crook of his arm. “Hello,” he whispered into her hair.
“Is this goodbye?” The words were out of her lips before she could stop them.
She felt him hesitate before he rolled over so he could look into her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be.” He was wide awake now, as was Trudy.
He rolled over again, not so gently and on top of her. She shook her head.
He had her pinned to the bed, and his hand held her chin so he could meet her eyes in the dark.
“I don’t see how it can work.” She stalled then turned the tables on him. “Do you?”
“It will take some effort,” he teased as his lips found that sweet spot at the base of her neck.
She felt her eyes filling with tears as a moan escaped her lips.
“Trudy, I don’t know what this is between us, but I like it, and I don’t want to give it up.”
Trudy felt the same way but still had her doubts. “But last night you—”
“Last night I was out of my mind, so please don’t give up on me.” He pressed his lips to the tears that spilled over onto her cheeks. Jason trailed his fingers over her jaw while never letting her eyes stray from his.
She couldn’t help the sob that erupted from her throat.
They made love, this time more desperate than before as they clung to each other, her face wet with tears she couldn’t contain. They found some compromise and took each other frantically yet beautifully to that place where nothing else mattered.
Afterward, they held on to each other until they both slid into a deep slumber.
***
Douglas stood beside the bed staring down at her, startling Trudy from her sleep. He was handsome and very at ease. His brown hair was slightly tousled, she noticed, and he wore no shoes on his bare feet.
Vanessa appeared at his side, laughing, her eyes dazzling and her long, flaming curls spilling over her shoulders.
“Time to get up, sleepyhead.” Douglas held out his hand to Trudy, helping her to her feet as she almost stumbled over the bed sheet wrapped around her body.
Rubbing her eyes, Trudy wanted to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. As the sun rose outside, it only provided a dappling of light through the heavy curtains.
“Look who’s here.” Vanessa looked over her shoulder, and Chase appeared shyly from behind her skirt. Douglas let out a laugh and lifted Chase high up into the air, making Caesar whine with concern. Vanessa was now brushing a young girl’s hair in front of the mirror on the vanity.
“Chelsea, sit still,” she ordered, but the girl was too excited, watching Caesar play with Chase and Douglas, who were taking turns tossing him his rubber ball.
“You found each other,” Trudy whispered to the happy group and sat back down on the edge of the bed. Vanessa radiated joy as she looked up at Douglas, and Trudy was awestruck by powerful emotion she could feel from them.
Douglas pulled Vanessa close and kissed her, making Chelsea giggle. He let her go, and Vanessa walked closer to where Trudy was sitting, so close she could smell her lilac perfume.
“Thank you, Gertrude.” And with that, Trudy woke up. She realized she was sitting on the bed, wrapped in the sheet, with her feet on the floor. The room was empty.
Jason must have slipped out while she was sleeping. She found the little note he left her that just said, “See you soon.”
Trudy packed up her belongings and stacked everything by the door. She hurried to the window when she heard the roar of Jason’s Harley.
He looked up at her and nodded before pulling away.
She waved and watched his bike disappear down the street, and with an ache in her heart Trudy turned away. Picking up her duffle bag and computer case, she made her way down the stairs.
The vans were loaded up, and they said their final farewells. Beverly hugged them and handed them each a wrapped package as well as a bag of sandwiches for their lunch, made from buns she baked earlier that morning.
Trudy was touched to see her package contained a framed picture Beverly had found of a laughing Vanessa dressed to the nines for an evening on the town.
The image captured Vanessa’s impish yet beguiling charm. Under the photo, Beverly imposed the phrase “Tonight I am just a beautiful woman.” Trudy had to whisk away a stray tear, and she looked up to meet Beverly’s eyes and she saw she was a kindred spirit.
Looking at the picture, she realized she had become friends with a woman who had departed the earthly plane almost ninety years ago. Those powerful words had deeply resonated within her soul. She, like Vanessa, who always put her child and her responsibilities first, needed to make some room for love.
Leslie was more than pleased to find her package contained another handkerchief that was embroidered by Chelsea with her sweet initials CS. She touched it to her cheek before embracing Beverly in a goodbye hug.
Trudy met with Dana and Patrick, who were going to get on the road later after they performed the clearing.
Leslie, Trudy, and Jasmine climbed into the van. They gave one last long look at the mansion before backing out of the driveway and pulling onto the road home.
They drove in silence for a while, each deep in their thoughts. Finally, Leslie leaned forward in her seat.
“Something is bothering me, Trudy, something I just can’t wrap my head around.” Leslie tucked a blonde strand behind her ear and reached forward to pull a manila folder from her briefcase.
“What’s that?”
Slipping on her reader glasses, Leslie flipped through the old clippings from newspapers and the copies they made at the library. She found an article about the fashion industry and successful designers.
“Raul Dupree was one of the most successful designers in the United States and abroad.” Leslie went on, “This article states he amassed a fortune between 1920 and 1929. He built boutiques in Chicago, New York, London, and France, and constructed a clothing factory in the garment district that employed over a hundred workers, not only for his line but also for up-and-coming designers. He dwelled in luxury accommodations in a much-coveted downtown address for the crème de la crème of wealthy Chicago society. This article claims he even hired the very exclusive Chef Patricia Boyle to be his private chef. It goes on to talk about the various functions and parties he hosted, with Chef Patty’s skills applauded by the Chicago elite.” Leslie went on angrily. “I just don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understan
d, Leslie?” Trudy snuck a quick look at her friend, who seemed to be getting more agitated by the minute.
“Why? Why did he leave her all alone there?” she choked.
“Who? What are you talking about?” Trudy stopped the van at a red light and put her hand on Leslie’s arm.
“Chelsea! Why didn’t Raul help her?” Her dark blue eyes wild, she asked the question but didn’t leave room for Trudy to answer. “It was obvious Vanessa cared a good bit about Chelsea, and you would think, as her best friend, he would have looked out for her interests.”
“Maybe he didn’t know?”
“Didn’t know?” Leslie all but bellowed, then hissed, “Or didn’t care…” She was angry enough to spit. “He obviously reached out to Chef Patty, who Vanessa had just recently hired. He could have hired Chelsea too. The Hollands, the Wilcoxes, and Nathan Petit were guilty of the same. You would think someone would have said, ‘Gee, Vanessa hired and took in this child, and now that she’s gone, we should make sure the child has a place to go.’”
She looked at Trudy with so many questions in her huge eyes full of unshed tears.
Trudy reached out her hand to cover Leslie’s with her own. “It was different then, Leslie. Children like Chelsea lived in the street, stealing what they needed to survive or working in the factories for pennies.”
“She was just forgotten…” Leslie sobbed and finally let her tears flow.
Trudy spoke in soft tones. “Chelsea worked as a seamstress…maybe Raul did hire her? We don’t know the full story, and besides, Chelsea wasn’t going anywhere without Caesar.”
They both fell quiet for a bit, taking in the flat landscape beyond the highway.
Trudy broke the silence. “Chelsea didn’t seem unhappy to me when she spoke to us. She seemed to accept her lot in life and made the best of it.” She chuckled, remembering the shoes Chelsea had found, using them to dance around the house, and the joy she expressed as having Caesar as her best friend. “She didn’t seem scared and even made friends with the folks she worked with.”