Her Last Memory

by C. A. Wittman

  Aarav had expressed his concerns before about Kanani trying meth that night. He'd complained to Ramani about Serene hanging out with Kanani, but Ramani pooh-poohed his worries. And Serene gave it no more thought until now. Why was he putting his foot down all of a sudden?

  * * *

  “Serene's making a fresh start.” Aarav's voice was whiny and wheedling. Serene strained her ears to listen to her parents through their bedroom door. “Kanani's trouble. She's always been trouble. Why have her come here when Serene is finally making a fresh start with new friends?”

  Ramani let out a throaty laugh. “What are you afraid of, Aarav?”

  “For once, Serene has a chance to go to a good school, to meet kids who want to make more out of their lives than surfing and working as a gas station attendant or landscaper.”

  “More out of her life?” Ramani echoed his words with disbelief. “Just who are you these days, Aarav Berman? Since when did you start caring about the status quo?”

  “Dammit, Ramani! We got our education. We have a foundation.”

  “A foundation?”

  “This is the life we chose to live, but if push comes to shove, you have your law degree. I have a PhD. Let Serene have a chance to create something for herself.”

  “And who are these kids Serene is hanging around with who are so inspiring, academically? Steve and Dylan, who live on their skateboards? Maybe it's Bets with all the piercings. Funny, I haven't seen much studying going on here, but the sex is free flowing. And hey, I don't have a problem with it. She's a sexual being.”

  Serene felt her face grow hot at Ramani's acknowledgment of her sex life.

  “I mean, really, Aarav, who are all these academic strivers who are suddenly a part of Serene's life.”

  “It's where they come from, and the opportunities provided them.”

  “Oh. The opportunities. When you're a white kid in a nice white town, growing up in a nice white neighborhood, there are still plenty of opportunities, even if all you do is skate around town.”

  “This is not about race!”

  “What's it about then?”

  “Kanani smoked meth.”

  “Once. You think kids here can't get meth?”

  “We've never seen or heard of Steve or Dylan doing meth.”

  “You know what else we haven't seen? Academic striving, college goals. Isn't that what you're so concerned about? Serene's education?”

  “Yes, but––”

  “Steve's a slacker. Maybe we should tell him not to come by anymore, or Dylan, or Bets. Or maybe the new rule should be to interview Serene's friends and find out what their academic and life goals are before they come hang around here.”

  “Stop it, Ramani. You're making a mockery of this.”

  Another laugh. “Oh, baby, it's begging to be mocked. You know what Kanani's got that's missing in these kids here in Culver City? Hutzpah. Mana. Life. Strength. Realness. Rawness. And, yes, she's fucking brown, thank god. She's that too.”

  Silence.

  Ramani had won.

  Serene slipped back into her room, mulling over their argument. There were so many aspects of her life that her parents had no awareness of. They didn't know that Bets read literary novels like they were candy. They didn't know that Steve also read––big thick sci-fi and thriller novels––or that Dylan had a job on weekends as a busboy at IHOP. Or that Serene was spending more and more of her weekends at Lanesha's in Crenshaw.

  22

  Bets - July 1996

  * * *

  "Betty Ross, right?" Detective Greiner said to the tall lanky girl with all the piercings.

  Officer Hernandez had cordoned off the crime scene with yellow barrier tape, extending several yards out from the front entrance of the residence at 4250 Jackson Avenue, where the deceased body of Taylor Davis was found. Arriving first on the scene along with the paramedics, he'd shuttled the five witnesses out of the house when Taylor Davis was pronounced dead. Contained within the boundary of the taped off area, they'd been separated from each other as best as possible. So far, Officer Hernandez managed to get informal statements from two of the witnesses. Inside the house, the medical examiner performed a detailed assessment of the body, and a CSI was taking careful stock of every detail of the crime scene.

  "Bets," the girl corrected and reached a trembling hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. She reeked of alcohol, eyeliner as smudged as a football player's eye black. Her tears had left tarry streaks of mascara on her cheeks.

  Detective Greiner gave her a sympathetic smile. The girl's facial muscles contorted to hold back more tears.

  "I'm very sorry, Bets," Detective Greiner said in a soft voice. "I need to get some information from you. What's your phone number?"

  "310-677-4949."

  "And your address?"

  "I live at 3017 Helms Ave."

  "Are you in school?"

  "I'll be a junior at Culver City High."

  "Do you have a job?"

  "No."

  "Can you tell me what you remember about this evening?"

  The girl took a wavering breath, her eyes swimming with tears. "I, um… Serene told me to stop by."

  "And Serene is?"

  Bets pointed in the direction of a statuesque African American girl with lots of little braids that reached her mid-back. She stood near the southern corner of the tape next to a dark-haired boy being questioned by Hernandez. Detective Greiner felt a stab of irritation that the two were not adequately separated from each other.

  "Is this Serene's house?"

  "No, it's Enzo Moreno's. Serene lives next door. Enzo invited us over for dinner."

  "Are Enzo's parents here?"

  Bets shook her head, no. Her nose reddened as more tears came.

  "And what time did you come here to Enzo's house for the dinner party?"

  "Like, after eight, I think. I'm not really sure."

  "How many of you were at dinner?"

  Bets counted silently on her fingers. "Six. I wasn't expecting to see Taylor because I knew her and Enzo were kind of on the outs with each other. So I was surprised she was here."

  "Can you tell me what you remember about this evening?"

  Bets crossed her arms and pulled her bottom lip over the top. "When me and Kanani came over, Enzo was cooking, and Taylor was helping him.

  "So, was Serene already here when you and Kanani showed up?"

  "No. She was at Steve's."

  "And is Steve here?"

  Bets pointed at the boy Serene stood next to. "They came over a little after us. When I saw Taylor was here, I thought about leaving, but after Serene arrived, she talked me into staying."

  "Why were you upset to see Taylor?"

  Bets fell silent.

  Greiner waited.

  "She came onto my boyfriend." She made a small whining sound. "But now she's dead. Oh god."

  "Okay," Greiner said softly. "Let's go through the events one step at a time."

  Bets nodded. "Everything went okay for the most part. We ate, and then after dinner Kanani started in on Taylor about how stuck up she was, and the fact that she'd been flirting with Mark."

  "Who is Mark?"

  "My boyfriend." Bets wiped her eyes and then looked off in the distance like she could see the scene playing out in front of her. "Enzo got kind of jealous and asked her if it was true, but Taylor laughed it off, which made me super mad. She has this way of really knowing how to get under a person's skin––or had." She added softly. "But none of that matters, right? Because now she's dead." Bets stared back at Greiner with glazed eyes.

  "Did Enzo hit Taylor?"

  "He almost did. But no. He didn't."

  "Tell me about Enzo almost hitting her."

  "He never hurt her."

  "I understand. But it's important, Bets, that I get the order of events down while it’s still fresh in your mind."

  "It was what Serene said that got him so mad."

  "What did she say?"

&nbs
p; Bets clammed up and her eyes skirted over toward Serene. When she spoke, her voice was so low that Greiner had to lean forward to hear her.

  "She asked her if she was sleeping with her stepdad."

  "Serene asked Taylor if she was sleeping with Serene's stepdad or Taylor's stepdad?"

  "Serene's. Darpan."

  "The name of the stepdad?"

  Bets nodded again and Greiner jotted the information down.

  "It was the look on her face," Bets continued. "Like she was guilty. Like… you could just tell, and that's when Enzo lunged at her, but Steve and Kanani stopped him. He yelled at her to leave and she left through the back door."

  "The back door?"

  "Yeah."

  "Why the back door? Doesn't that lead to the back yard?"

  "Taylor knew she screwed up and Enzo was super pissed. I think she just wanted to get out fast."

  "And what did the rest of you do?"

  "Steve said he had to go home. It was getting late."

  "How long after Taylor left did Steve leave?"

  Bets rubbed at her wet eyes again.

  "Um, a few minutes. Maybe even less."

  Greiner jotted the time down and looked up, waiting to hear the rest.

  "Serene started wondering if Taylor would be okay out on the street at night by herself." Bets’ bottom lip trembled. "I think we were all so mad at her, we didn't think…"

  "Did anyone else leave after Steve?" Officer Hernandez asked.

  "Yeah. Serene said she needed some air. Kanani and me helped Enzo clean up and that's when he told us how he'd seen Taylor laying it on thick with Darpan a few times and how Darpan encouraged it. They've argued about it before, so he knew."

  "Knew what?"

  "That Serene's question––it was probably true."

  "That Taylor slept with Darpan?"

  "Yeah."

  "The three of you cleaned the kitchen and then what?"

  "Serene came back and said she was tired and wanted to go back to her house."

  "And how long was Serene gone for?"

  Bets' forehead furrowed in thought. "I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention."

  "But if you could give it a rough guess."

  "Maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

  "And Taylor?"

  "None of us heard her come back in."

  "You found Taylor after Serene came back?"

  Bets closed her eyes and rubbed at her temple. "We were all leaving and Enzo was walking us to the door. He saw her on the sofa.

  Bets’ features screwed up tight and she shuddered out a sob.

  "He started yelling at her, ‘Get out of here, you slut.’ But she didn't move." Bets planted her palm down against her chest, her voice breaking. "And I had this feeling."

  Greiner wished she had a tissue for Bets. The girl's face was a mess.

  "He ran over to her and shoved her, and she just… she just lay there."

  "Okay, Bets. Okay," Greiner said. The girl collapsed into herself from the shock and grief of seeing someone her age, someone she'd recently been arguing with, suddenly dead.

  "I'm going to talk with Serene now. Please stay and wait here."

  "Can't I just go home?" Bets asked.

  "You can call your parents in a little bit and we'll have them bring you out to the station. We'll need a formal statement."

  The girl looked stricken and Greiner gave her a reassuring smile.

  On the other side of the tape, a man yelled that his son had a right to an attorney. A woman stood next to him, face pale, arms folded, and their young teen daughter, color peeking on her cheeks, craned her neck to see into the house. Behind them, a woman with frizzy hair stood on tiptoe, also trying to see in.

  "Serene!" The frizzy-haired woman yelled to the girl with braids.

  Officer Hernandez made his way over to them. "Ma'am, sir, if all of you could please step back. This is an active crime scene."

  23

  Serene - July 1996

  * * *

  Detective Greiner studied the stony-faced girl, Serene Hokulani, and smiled, hoping she'd relax. They had already been through the details of when the dinner took place, who was there, and Enzo throwing Taylor out. Serene was not as forthcoming with information as Bets and seemed to know not to say too much, just the bare facts.

  "After Taylor left, Bets says you left as well."

  Serene shrugged.

  "About what time did you leave Enzo's?"

  "I don't know."

  "If you could give an estimate."

  "I told you. I don't know."

  Greiner pulled back to give the girl space. "Okay. You were gone a little while. How long do you think you stepped out for?"

  Serene sighed. "Five minutes."

  Officer Hernandez glanced briefly down at her notes, at the ten, or fifteen-minute time range Bets gave. "Where did you go in those five minutes you were out of the house?"

  "Nowhere."

  "So, you stayed right outside this house."

  "I needed to get some air. I walked over to my place and I was going to stay there, but then I changed my mind and came back."

  Officer Hernandez cocked her head to the side, a play at naive curiosity. "Oh, yeah? What made you decide to come back?"

  "Look, there isn't always a reason behind everything. I left. I came back." A flicker of the eyes. She turned away to stare at something off to the side.

  "Were you angry with Taylor, Serene?"

  The girl turned slowly to look at Detective Greiner, eyes hard dark orbs. Greiner couldn't tell if she was angry or indifferent. The kid had a coolness that made the hairs on the detective's arms stand on end.

  "Who isn't angry with Taylor?" Serene said.

  "I'm asking about you, though, Serene. Were you especially angry with Taylor tonight? Bets said you suspected Taylor was sleeping with your stepdad. Is that true?"

  She didn't reply, only drummed her fingers against her crossed arm.

  "Serene, did you hurt Taylor?"

  "I have a right to remain silent and I want to see my mom."

  "Of course. We'll contact your parents, and have you come to the station to make a formal statement."

  "My mom's right there."

  Greiner looked over her shoulder at a woman in blue jeans and a bulky sweatshirt, her curly hair in disarray, like she'd jumped out of bed and dressed in a hurry.

  "Are we done?" Serene asked.

  "For now. I'm going to have you wait right here."

  Serene tightened her crossed arms. She looked at someone, a girl with dark waist-length hair, wearing an oversized t-shirt, shorts and flip flops. The girl mouthed something to Serene, and then Serene seemed to deflate, posture sagging as her eyes filled with tears. With her defenses down, what stood out to Greiner was how different she looked from the aloof and distant person she'd just been interviewing. It was almost like looking into the face of a different kid altogether.

  24

  Barbara - February 2020

  * * *

  It wasn't hard to research the story. Barbara wondered why she had never thought to look before––really dig, like she was doing now. She had found several old magazine articles online featuring the story, and a true crime book called American Murder: The Taylor Davis Story, written by a journalist named Kay Lawrence. Barbara inhaled the articles and checked the book out from the library, reading it in a single evening. Her mind reeled from the fact that Taylor's murder was never completely solved.

  Each of the kids at Enzo's that night had had a possible motive for hurting Taylor, including Barbara's own parents. The hard punch to Taylor's right temple had killed her between five and twenty minutes after receiving the blow, forensics surmised. Barbara's father was left-handed, and so was Ramani. The implication made Barbara feel sick. Then there was the discrepancy in time when Barbara's mom left Enzo's house to get some air. She'd said it was five minutes, but Bets had told police she was gone at least ten minutes, maybe even fifteen. Taylor's mom Abby
seemed to believe that Serene had it in for her daughter, that she’d been conniving to take her boyfriend Steve when they were dating. At least that was what Taylor had complained about to Abby on multiple occasions. Even Enzo, Bets and Kanani's story of staying in the house to clean up after Taylor, Serene and Steve left had broken down. Kanani had gone to the bathroom for a long time. Enzo had gone to his backyard to have a cigarette and Bets had been left alone in the kitchen. Enough time had lapsed for any one of them to have had a few minutes of confrontation with Taylor.

  A third of the book was backstory of Taylor's character. Her beauty. Her arrogance. Her charm and sexual precociousness, and the sting of cruelty several girls had suffered knowing Taylor. Some kids had referred to her as a slut. Somehow the journalist had wrangled a confession from Abby that Taylor's father had molested her. It made Barbara's face burn to read the incestuous abuse Taylor had been subjected to.

  There were pictures of all of them, looking so young in a time that seemed impossibly far away and not.

  In the end, Darpan paid for the crime. Semen was found in Taylor. There was no bruising of the tissue, which would have suggested rape and, initially, the semenal fluid was thought to be Enzo's, but turned out to be Darpan's. Then there was Serene's confession that she'd seen Darpan kissing Taylor and that Taylor had pushed him away. Unbelievably, Ramani had backed Darpan, securing him legal representation and leaving Serene to grapple on her own with a public defender.

  But it was Carrie's statement to the police that prompted Barbara to sit bolt upright in bed, clutching the tattered paperback from the library. Aunt Carrie had had a rough few years as a teen, drinking, partying. A stint of heroin. Her goth phase, wearing all black. Sulky, angry-looking eyes, too much black eyeliner, dyed black hair and pinched white features. Grandma Maggie and Grandpa Ron sent her to rehab twice. Carrie's life didn't turn around until she graduated and left Culver City, moving to New York. Her statement was definitely incriminating. Grandpa Ron tried to get it thrown out, but it was too late, and Ramani said later that she felt vindicated. That was before the legal winds turned against her and Darpan.