The Witness

by Terry Lynn Thomas

  “Tell you what?” Brian asked.

  “Tell me if you thought someone was playing me,” Leanne said. “I’m not asking for you to discuss your relationship with Olivia if you don’t want to. That’s none of my business. I just want you to be careful, that’s all. There’s something about her that I don’t like. She’s manipulative.”

  “Has something specific happened to make you say that?”

  “No,” Leanne said. “I guess it’s just women’s intuition, if you believe in that. The way she looks at me, like she thinks I’m after you. Have you two ever been intimate?” Leanne held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t to mean to pry, and I don’t expect an answer. But I swear, she has feelings for you. And if that’s the case, she’s probably jealous of me.”

  “Olivia isn’t the jealous type,” Brian said.

  “You’re probably right,” Leanne said. “Olivia and I just need to spend some time together, so we can get to know each other.”

  “Agreed. Maybe we could all have lunch together?”

  “Perfect. I want us to be friends.”

  “You will be,” Brian said.

  “Good.” Leanne pushed away from the table. “Now how about some of that apple pie?”

  Leanne’s comment had surprised Brian. He’d never thought of Olivia as anything other than a decent person who had been blindsided by her cheating ex-husband. Since October, he and Olivia had spent quite a bit of time together. He had found Olivia to be an intelligent woman, with a unique world view. He remembered that two weeks they had lived together and shared a bed. That magical, earth-shattering, life-changing two weeks. Brian had fallen in love with Olivia Sinclair. The feelings, so intense, had completely unhinged him. And Olivia, in her knowing way, had worried they had moved too fast, given his feelings for Maureen. Which to Brian’s mind was ridiculous because he didn’t regret a thing. All the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, stayed unresolved between them.

  Brian hadn’t regretted falling in love with Olivia. He didn’t regret still loving her. He didn’t know what had caused both of them to step away from each other, their hands metaphorically held up in surrender. Even though they never spoke of that time, it hung between them, the elephant in the room. For the first time, Brian wondered, had Olivia been playing him? If so, to what advantage?

  At moments like this, Brian missed his marriage, missed his dead wife, who had understood him and who was so very easy to be around. Last October, Brian had thought he might have a future with Olivia. If he was brutally honest with himself, he had halfway hoped she would have offered up an explanation by now as to why she had pulled away. Women were so much better at communication and talking about their emotions than men were. If Olivia brought the subject up, no matter how uncomfortable, Brian would have discussed it with her. Maybe she wanted to give him room to finish grieving for Maureen.

  God, he was confused. He hadn’t planned on being single at this age. He certainly hadn’t planned on falling in love with Olivia. With a sigh, he picked up the empty wine bottle and followed Leanne into the kitchen.

  Leanne had sliced two generous pieces of apple pie and set them on plates. “I brought ice cream, so we could have our apple pie à la mode.”

  “Sounds good,” Brian said. As he rinsed the dinner dishes, he realized how much he liked sharing the simple day-to-day things with another soul. Yes, he missed Maureen. And yes, he had unfinished business with Olivia Sinclair. But Olivia wasn’t here right now, was she?

  Leanne hummed under her breath as she put the lid back on the ice cream and put it back in the freezer. Brian admired her trim waist and her comely ankles. Her auburn hair, thick and vibrant as a woman half her age, cascaded down her back. She turned to face him. When she smiled, her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  In a move that was totally out of character, Brian took a step in Leanne’s direction and pulled her toward him. Surprised, she grabbed the back of his neck and stood on her tiptoes. Their lips touched. Against his better judgment, Brian let himself go.

  Chapter 11

  Ebby

  Monday, January 5

  Ebby woke up with a start, realizing that he wasn’t home. He lay on an unfamiliar bed, looking up at the sterile white ceiling, wondering where he was and how he had come to be here. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, checking to make sure he wasn’t having a strange dream, before he turned on his side and saw Felicity, tucked into the chair in the corner of the room, her head at an uncomfortable angle. He was in a hospital. He remembered going for a hike. He vaguely recalled walking in the woods toward Elodie’s party and the sound of the music and the murmur of voices in the tent. Everything after that was a blur.

  Felicity stirred, opened her eyes, and slowly sat up, rubbing her neck.

  “Good morning,” Ebby said, his voice scratchy. His tongue felt thick and his lips were dry and cracked.

  “Good morning,” Felicity said. She stood, stretched, and opened the curtains of his private room.

  “Have I been here all night?” he asked.

  “You were admitted yesterday afternoon. Elodie, Olivia, and I agreed it would be best if you weren’t left alone, so I volunteered to stay.” She poured him a glass of water from the pitcher by the side of his bed and waited while he drank thirstily. Then she refilled it and sat down on the bed. “How do you feel?”

  “Hungry, thirsty, and a bit confused. What happened? Why am I here?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Not a thing,” Ebby said.

  Felicity let out a long, slow breath. “Oh, Ebby. It’s a mess. You confessed to killing your mom. You were having one of your episodes. You stood at the tent, in front of God and all Elodie’s guests and confessed to the murder.”

  “I don’t remember any of that. Elodie must be beside herself.”

  “She’s more than a little worried.” Three nurses walked by Ebby’s door, chatting among themselves.

  Felicity looked tired and disheveled, and Ebby felt a pang of guilt at what he’d put his family and friends through. His eyes lit on one of the visitor’s chairs, which held his backpack. “What’s that?”

  “Elodie packed you some clean clothes.”

  “Great.” Ebby swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand up. When the floor undulated beneath him, he sat back down.

  “That’s the sedative that’s making you dizzy.” Felicity started to come over to help, but Ebby pushed her away.

  Ebby met Felicity’s eyes. “Was I that bad?”

  Felicity hesitated. “You were that bad. You showed up at the tent right in the middle of Elodie’s speech. You looked like you’d been in a fight. You had that nasty cut on your cheek, you were missing a shoe, the front of your shirt was stained with blood, and your eyes were wild.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “You confessed to a murder in front of over a hundred witnesses,” Felicity went on. “Thank God Olivia was there. She called an ambulance, and, with Brian Vickery and Elodie’s help, managed to keep Mark out of the fray. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Would you mind getting me coffee? A large one. And if they have anything decent to eat, I wouldn’t complain. What time is it?”

  Felicity pulled her phone out of her pocket. “It’s 7:45 a.m. Back in a tick.”

  Just after Felicity left, a nurse came in. She took his blood pressure, asked him a few questions, and made notes in his chart.

  “When can I go home?” Ebby asked.

  “After the doctor clears you. He’s right behind me. I’ll disconnect you from the IV for now. I can’t take the needle out until Dr. Lister clears you to leave.”

  “Thank you,” Ebby said.

  “Be careful when you get out of bed, okay? They gave you a sedative, and we don’t know if all the drugs have cleared your system yet. Do you need anything? The breakfast tray will be coming soon.”

  “No. My friend just went to get me coffee and breakfast.�
�

  “Okay. Just push the button if you need anything.”

  After the nurse left, Ebby put on the pair of sweatpants that were in his backpack. He splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth, finally feeling halfway normal, despite the memories of yesterday, which were slowly coming into focus.

  “Ebby? Can I come in?” The doctor, a portly man with a thatch of red hair and the thickest glasses Ebby had ever seen, stood outside his room.

  “Of course,” Ebby said.

  “I’m Dr. Lister. You may not remember, but we met yesterday. You’re looking much better this morning. How are feeling?”

  “Feeling fine. Worried about how I came to be here.”

  “Can’t say I blame you,” Dr. Lister said. He picked up the chart and skimmed through it. “I’m not a psychiatrist, but I know what happened – I know about the dissociative amnesia.”

  “My aunt told you?”

  “She did. And she told me that you’ve recently stopped therapy and medication.”

  “I have. I want to remember what happened that night. The medication keeps me lethargic. When I’m medicated, the memories stop. The psychiatrist I was seeing didn’t seem to be interested in helping me. Every time I asked to wean off my medication, he ignored me and prescribed more pills.” Ebby prepared himself for the certain lecture and was surprised when Dr. Lister nodded in agreement.

  “I’m sorry about that. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to find out what happened to my mother too.

  “I think you’re being remiss if you proceed along this route – which could be dangerous – without the care of a doctor. Find a psychiatrist you like, just to be safe. You could ask your doctor to put you on meds temporarily, or at least work on a therapeutic regimen that meets with your approval. You’re an adult. You should absolutely have a say in your course of treatment. There are plenty of good doctors in the area, and I’d be happy to recommend a few.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ebby said.

  Dr. Lister smiled and stood. “And that’s my unsolicited two cents. Also, you were really dehydrated and exhausted when you came in yesterday. I’m releasing you, but you must avoid stress at all costs. I think it would be prudent to stay with someone for a while, just for a few days.”

  “He can stay with me,” Felicity said. She came in carrying a tray with two coffees and what looked like bagels and cream cheese. “And forgive me for eavesdropping, but I heard what the doc said about seeing a psychiatrist. I’m going to bug you about that.”

  “Fine,” Ebby said.

  “Good. I’ll leave you in this young lady’s capable hands.” Dr. Lister stood and shook Ebby’s hand. “The nurse will be back with the discharge papers.”

  Half an hour later, Felicity and Ebby left the hospital, Ebby reluctantly agreeing to exit the building in a wheelchair, pushed by an orderly. “I’ll be right back with the car, Ebby.”

  Felicity started toward the lower parking lot where she’d parked yesterday, just as an unmarked Ford Crown Vic with a government license plate rolled to a stop in front of Ebby. In a flash, Felicity was back, firmly planted between Ebby’s wheelchair and the police car.

  “What are you doing?” Ebby asked.

  Felicity commandeered Ebby’s wheelchair. “I’ll just push him to my car and we’ll bring the wheelchair back.”

  “That’s not allowed,” the orderly said. “I’m to make sure he is safely placed in the vehicle that will transport him.”

  “We’re changing the rules today,” Felicity said to the orderly, who responded with a confused expression.

  “What’s wrong with you? Why are you in such a hurry?” Ebby asked.

  Felicity bent down and whispered into Ebby’s ear, “Those cops. I think they’re here for you.”

  There were two of them, a man, who had the body of a fighter, striking blue eyes, and a woman, taller than average, a no-nonsense look on her face. The man walked behind the woman. “Mr. Engstrom?”

  “Yes,” Ebby said.

  “Edward Engstrom?” the woman said.

  “Yes.” Ebby felt his heart drop into his stomach. They’ve come to arrest me.

  “We need you to come with us,” the woman said.

  “But he’s just been discharged from the hospital,” Felicity said, as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Olivia’s phone number.

  “And you are?” the man asked Felicity.

  “I’m the woman who’s calling Mr. Engstrom’s lawyer,” Felicity hissed.

  As Felicity frantically tried to reach Olivia, the woman said the words Ebby had heard so many times on television, “Mr. Engstrom, we have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Cynthia Engstrom. You have the right to remain silent …”

  Ebby went numb as they carefully loaded him into the back of the car, making sure he didn’t hit his head as he transferred from the wheelchair to the caged back seat that smelled of vomit. He leaned back and closed his eyes, knowing that he should be worried, scared even. But he wasn’t. In some fashion, this arrest was a gift. If it took him getting arrested to get the police to reinvestigate his mother’s murder, then so be it.

  Chapter 12

  Olivia

  Monday, January 5

  Since October, Olivia had taken to calling her life before her arrest for the murder of her husband’s mistress – and the startling climax that had exonerated her – the before times.

  On this particular morning, she awoke with a bad feeling deep in her gut. That familiar intuition that had lain dormant since she quit practicing law had niggled its way into her psyche, leaving her worried about Ebby. She’d never witnessed anyone suffering as Ebby had yesterday, and the image of him standing at the tent, completely destroyed, haunted her.

  As she dressed in wool trousers and a button-up silk blouse, Olivia wondered if any of those guests, like the two women who had been gossiping about her in the tent, had whipped out their cell phone and filmed Ebby’s confession. There was nothing to be done about that.

  She had just poured her coffee when her cell phone rang. Felicity.

  “Good morning, Felicity. How’s Ebby?”

  “We have a problem.”

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, Olivia and Brian were headed south on Highway 101 toward the Marin Civic Center. Once there, they were ushered into a windowless room, made dingy by the lack of windows, and the grayish linoleum floor. There was one table and two rickety chairs. Olivia sat in one of them, while Brian remained standing. Based on his state of mind at Elodie’s party, Olivia expected Ebby to be panic-stricken after being arrested immediately on his release from the hospital. Instead, he was calm and stoic as a sheriff led him into the room.

  Once they were alone, Ebby said, “I don’t remember confessing to killing her. I don’t remember a thing.”

  “The first thing I want to focus on is getting you out of here. Once we do that, we’ll make a plan,” Olivia said.

  “At least I got what I wanted,” Ebby said.

  “What do you mean?” Olivia asked.

  “They’re going to reinvestigate my mom’s murder,” he said.

  Olivia nodded at Brian. “It doesn’t work like that, Ebby.”

  “What do you mean?” Ebby asked, a bewildered look on his face.

  Olivia let Brian answer.

  “They’re going to look for evidence that implicates you, Ebby. Their focus isn’t on the truth now, it’s on you.”

  “You’ll find out what really happened,” Ebby said. “You and Brian. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Do you remember anything that happened yesterday? What about the events leading up to you being taken to hospital?” Olivia asked.

  “I don’t remember confessing to killing my mother or being taken to the hospital.”

  A sheriff’s deputy came in. “I need to take him, ma’am. The nurse needs to evaluate him, so we can finish processing him.”

  “Don’t talk to anyone, Ebby. I’ll see you tomorrow m
orning.”

  Ebby stood waiting for the sheriff’s deputy to lead him back to his cell. “I trust you, Olivia. I know you’ll make this right.”

  After Ebby was led away, and Olivia and Brian were alone in the tiny room, Olivia said, “He doesn’t seem the least bit worried.”

  “Wait until he spends the night in jail. That’ll get his attention.”

  As they walked toward Brian’s car, Olivia said, “We should have an investigation plan. Thoughts on where to start?”

  “From the beginning. We should talk to Ebby’s family members, not only to see what they remember of the night Cynthia died, but to get a list of other people who might know something. Cynthia Engstrom had enemies. Who were they? And where were they on December 28th, 1984?”

  “I’ll draft a discovery request and a motion to suppress Ebby’s confession. That way I can file it tomorrow after his bail hearing. Once we get discovery from the DA, we can make a cohesive plan.”

  “Agreed,” Brian said.

  “Don’t you think it was a bit rash to arrest Ebby just based on a crazed confession? I can understand why that would raise a red flag and cause the police to investigate, but the arrest seems a bit overzealous.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Something’s not right about this,” Olivia said.

  They rode the rest of the way home in silence. Just as Brian was about to drop Olivia off, he said, “I’d like for you to have lunch with Leanne and me tomorrow after Ebby’s bail hearing. At The Left Bank. I know you’re going to be busy and your head’s going to be wrapped up in Ebby’s case, but you need to eat, right?”