Ronnie had shot his sister in the back as she fled to the front door. And while Diana admitted that she hadn’t actually seen Ronnie kill his sister, she’d heard at least two additional shots. There had been another pause, then a final shot. That had been Ronnie blowing his brains out.
The only survivors were Diana Marshfield and her kids.
The sound of the shots had aroused the curiosity of Susan Finlay. She saw Elizabeth’s body lying in the living room amid a puddle of blood when she ventured over to investigate, then ran to her house screaming. Two 911 calls were logged to the Reamstown Police, one from Susan, the other from inside the house itself. Diana had made that second call. When the first unit arrived they found Diana trying to revive Elizabeth. Diana had been bleeding from a shoulder wound. And while both her children were still cowering in the corner, covered in blood, they had escaped serious injury.
Diana had been hysterical. She admitted that there had been some strain between Ronnie and his parents lately, that she had argued with them about her relationship with their son that day. The 911 call that had been made earlier requesting help at Ronnie’s house was finally traced back to Elizabeth’s cellular phone, and Diana was asked why Elizabeth would make such a call. Diana didn’t know. All she knew was that Ronnie’s parents had been putting their son under a lot of pressure to end their relationship and he must have exploded because of it. But she had no idea he would snap so violently.
“I went to the house last night after I got a call from the police,” Debbie said. They were sitting on the twin bed that flanked the north side of the room. Debbie had related the incident between tears and now she was relatively calm, the finality of everything large and heavy. Aside from wearing her graying hair short, she bore a strong resemblance to Laura, and had a thick Pennsylvanian Dutch accent. “I saw Diana being questioned by detectives. She was hysterical. Just hysterical.”
“What about the kids?” Gregg asked.
“I didn’t see them. I don’t know where they were.”
The police tried getting in touch with Gregg, to no avail. Elizabeth had never programmed Gregg’s cell phone number into her phone—she’d had it memorized, so there had been no way to call him. There was some initial worry that Gregg was injured or that Eric and Mary were in danger, so a bulletin had gone out to the State Police with the SUV’s make and license number. Diana didn’t know why Gregg was absent, and Debbie told him that the investigators wanted to speak to him about his absence. Gregg saw this opportunity as a way to explain what he had worked up. “I think I can talk to them now,” he said, taking a deep breath.
Debbie stood up with him. “Then let’s go.”
Holding hands, they walked downstairs to the living room.
The rest of the day was a blur. Gregg was questioned by a detective, a guy named Kurt Newsom. He told Kurt Elizabeth had been concerned for her brother and they’d argued with Diana at the house during Thanksgiving dinner about her relationship with Ronnie. Elizabeth had asked Gregg to take Eric and Mary out of the house because Mary was getting very upset, and Laura suggested Gregg take them to a weekend retreat to give them time to play and just be children for once. Elizabeth was going to help sort things out at the house, but they had already planned to meet up at the High Suites B&B that evening. He had tried calling her several times on her cell phone and couldn’t get through. Then he got worried so they drove back this morning.
Kurt didn’t pepper him with questions immediately, but he did probe gently. Why did Elizabeth make the 911 call? We drove over earlier to see why Ronnie hadn’t shown up because we didn’t believe Diana’s story that he was tired, and Elizabeth said he looked like he’d been using drugs again. She thought Diana was covering up his drug use—that’s part of the reason why she and her mom started arguing with Diana.
A female detective questioned the kids in the family room. Mary told her that her grandmother and Aunt didn’t like Diana, and they were arguing about it. She was afraid her daddy was sick. Eric said his grandmother had asked his dad to drive the kids to the Pocono's for the weekend; he knew grandma wanted them out of the house because she didn’t want them to see the argument. The kids were teary-eyed, crying, and the female detective was gentle in her questioning. She compared notes with Detective Newsom, then they left.
At one point during that long horrible day, Diana Marshfield showed up at the house with Lily in tow. Despite her ragged appearance, left arm in a sling from the flesh wound she had apparently received, Gregg could see the vitality flowing through her, more so than yesterday. It was as if the murders had sparked her energy. Her look of fatigue and mourning was a mask she was wearing; he knew that, could tell instinctively she was faking her emotions, but gave no indication he did. Elizabeth’s family members acknowledged her silently as she walked into the house and approached Gregg.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her large brown eyes downcast.
“Me too,” he said quickly, not looking at her.
“If I had known...” She began, and then looked down. “How’s Mary?”
“She’s fine.”
She sighed. “Good.” She looked around the family room. “Where is she? I’ll take her home.”
“She is home,” Gregg said firmly, feeling a sudden wave of rage flare inside him. How dare this bitch come in and try to take a child that isn’t hers!
Diana turned to Gregg looking as if she had been slapped in the face. “Excuse me?”
“She’s not your daughter,” Gregg said, trying to control the anger in his voice. “She never was your daughter. You can’t take her, she’s with family now.”
“Family...” Diana’s face reddened. “In case you didn’t realize, Mr. Weaver, Mary’s legal residence is at 232 Severn Lane in Rienholds. Just because her father’s gone doesn’t mean—”
“You haven’t legally adopted her,” Gregg overrode her. “You have no claim to her. She’s not your child.” He wanted to add, so get the fuck out of my house, but held his tongue.
“Bullshit! Ronnie and I were devoted to each other, and he was devoted to my kids like they were his own! We were a family!”
“Oh yeah?” Gregg said, looking up as Elizabeth’s cousin and another woman walked in. He suppressed a grin. Thirty minutes before Diana showed up, the Department of Child Welfare and Social Services had arrived to talk to Mary and the family and determine temporary custody status for Mary. Tracy had kept the kids occupied in the family room basement while Gregg, Debbie, and another cousin of Elizabeth’s, Brenda Wandrei, talked with the social worker. Gregg had been crossing the living room to head to the bathroom when he’d seen Diana arrive. “Well, I beg to differ,” he said. “Besides, I think the decision has been taken out of your hands.”
The social worker was accompanied by Debbie and Brenda, and was a short thirty-something woman with a slim build and dark hair. “So what’s the verdict?” Gregg asked.
“Mary will stay with me for a few weeks,” Brenda said, noticing Diana but barely acknowledging her.
“Brenda’s going to take me to her house so I can finish the verification process,” the social worker explained to Gregg. “Then it’s a go. Temporary custody until we can get all the proper paperwork in order and you and Debbie can do the appropriate follow-up.”
Diana was listening with a look of shock. “You’re taking Mary away from me?”
The social worker turned to Diana. “I understand you were Mary’s father’s girlfriend?”
“Yes, and Mary lived with us and my two kids,” Diana said. “My daughter looks up to Mary like a sister.” She put her arm around Lily, who pouted silently. “You can’t take her out of the house, you’ll be breaking up the family.”
“From what I’ve been able to determine, Mary’s family is with these people,” the social worker said. Her demeanor was complete business.
Diana looked like she was going to argue further but then she held up her hands. “Fine,” she sputtered, clearly frustrated. “Let Brenda have
temporary custody while I get things cleared up at the house. When temporary custody’s over, she’s coming back home. Who do I need to speak with about this?”
The social worker’s voice was polite with an icy undertone. She handed Diana a business card. “Call the 800 number on my card if you really want to pursue this. They’ll help you out.”
“Fine.” Diana took the card and, grasping Lily’s hand, whipped around quickly and headed out the door with Lily in tow.
The four of them watched them leave in silence. Gregg was the first to break the silence. “I don’t want Mary back in that house again.” He could barely control his voice. Brenda put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“From what you’ve told me I don’t either,” the social worker said, her eyes on Diana as she climbed into her Chrysler and drove away. She looked at the three of them. “In all seriousness she doesn’t have a chance. She has no case. Ronnie lived with her for five months and both of Mary’s natural parents are dead. Her only living relatives in the state are you, and I sincerely doubt that if Diana should seek custody her case would even make it to the review board for consideration. In fact, I’m tempted to look into the way she handles her own children.”
“That might be a good idea,” Debbie said.
The social worker glanced at Brenda. “Shall we go?”
“Yes.” Brenda slung her purse over her shoulder and the two women left.
When Brenda showed up again later that day to pick Mary up, Gregg pulled her to the side. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” he whispered. “Don’t let her talk to Diana or her kids.”
“Don’t worry,” Brenda said. “Julie and I talked about Diana on the way to my place. There’s no way she’s getting Mary.”
“I’m serious,” Gregg said, feeling himself crumble. “Diana wants Mary, she—”
And then Debbie was there, her calm voice soothing, encouraging him to hush, just hush, they’ll take care of everything, Mary was going to be safe. And Gregg allowed himself to be led away by Debbie and be taken care of. It was an easy thing to do. Elizabeth’s entire family had all sprung into action, working together like a well-oiled machine. They were like disaster recovery workers; they knew exactly what to do, when to do it, and each of them knew their place in the process and worked at it without having to be told what to do.
The following day was worse when Gregg found himself alone in the bedroom he shared with Elizabeth. He woke up at four a.m. after having only gotten a fitful two hours of sleep. Eric was down the hall in his bedroom and the house was silent. Gregg sat up in bed, feeling the weight of loneliness and loss crash down on him and he wept.
The next few days were a blur of funeral arrangements, talking to more detectives, and the constant parade of Elizabeth’s family. Somehow Elizabeth’s family was keeping the reporters at bay. Elizabeth’s Uncle Glenn and Aunt Grace spearheaded the funeral arrangements. Gregg went through a parade of emotions in the three days leading up to the first funeral for Laura and Jerry Baker; anger, dismay, grief. He spent a lot of time away from the house at Brenda and Joe’s place in Leola with Eric and Mary. He couldn’t stay at his own house. The constant activity, the police presence, was all weighing heavily on him and he couldn’t deal with it.
He did a lot better when he was away from the house with Eric and Mary. They needed him, and he and the rest of the adults did everything they could to tend to the children first and foremost. His employer asked no questions when Gregg called to say he was taking the rest of the year off to deal with what happened he had vacation time and his employer had a generous benefit policy that allowed for temporary leave of absence.
Through all the planning and grieving, somebody was always with the kids talking to them, watching TV with them, playing with them, encouraging them to talk and cry and confront their feelings. For the most part it worked.
At some point during those first three days, Gregg called Don late one night and gave him a quick rundown on what had happened before bursting into tears. “I’m here whenever you need to talk,” Don said. “Twenty-four seven. I ain’t going anywhere.”
Hearing that gave Gregg some confidence, some solace that he wasn’t in this by himself. True, he had Elizabeth’s family. He had his own family, too; his parents, his sister and her husband had flown in from California when they’d heard about the tragedy, and Gregg insisted they stay at the house. They pitched in with the rest of Elizabeth’s family in arranging the funerals and taking care of Eric and Mary. And then, before Gregg knew it, the first funeral was upon them—Jerry and Laura’s, at the First Presbyterian Church in Adamstown.
Gregg kept Eric and Mary close to him as they sat in the first row of the tiny chapel, which was overflowing with people. He didn’t look up to see if Diana Marshfield had shown up with her kids, although later that day Tracy reported she had. Gregg hadn’t stayed at the service very long—he was helping Tracy with the final touches of Elizabeth’s own memorial service, which was being arranged with the help of Elizabeth’s friends Brad Campbell and some of the other local writers she knew and hung out with, some of whom were flying out from as far away as California to attend. Eric had wanted to help on that too. Debbie and her husband Chris, who had politely but firmly rebuffed Diana's offers of help in making arrangements, were arranging Ronnie's service. “She seems like a lost confused soul, but I don’t care,” Debbie said to Gregg one evening at Brenda’s shortly before he left with Eric to return to the house. “I don’t like her and I know that’s not a very nice thing to say, especially in a time like this. And it’s not my place to make judgments on the relationship she had with my nephew, but—”
“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Gregg said, understanding perfectly. He hugged Debbie tightly.
On the night before Elizabeth’s memorial service Don Grant called. “Diana is still in the area.”
“Yes,” Gregg said. He looked out his bedroom window at the darkened street below. It had rained the night before, and the evening temperatures had plummeted to the high teens. Already he could feel the first chill of winter in the air.
“I notice she didn’t stay long at Jerry and Laura’s funeral,” Don said. “And I doubt she’ll attend the memorial service for your wife. She will be at Ronnie’s though, to try to convince your family she’s not the monster she really is. Your family doesn’t know what she is, but they know she isn’t right...is that correct?”
“That’s correct,” Gregg said, leaning back in bed. He was nursing a glass of bourbon on the rocks, which was the only thing that was helping him sleep at night. “They haven’t been cold toward her, but they haven’t excluded her entirely yet.”
“She’ll try the pity angle on them at Ronnie’s funeral,” Don said. “She’ll have Rick and Lily with her. You’re going to need to watch Mary closely and not let her out of your sight.”
“I plan to.”
“No, I mean it,” Don said, and Gregg detected the seriousness in Don’s tone and shivered. “I’ve been observing her the past few days and I was really hoping she would have left town after being rebuffed by that social worker. But she hasn’t gone away. She hardly comes out of that house. She’s planning something.”
“What’s she going to do?” Gregg asked, feeling frightened.
“She wants Mary,” Don continued. “When she got into Ronnie’s life she struck gold. She was not only able to sustain herself from Ronnie’s lust for her and the resounding chaos the relationship caused, she was able to insinuate herself into Mary’s life. Mary represents all that is good and pure, and to engulf that is like taking down two or three adults. It’s more energy, more life. The last time she—it—was able to devour a child was—”
“Stop it!” Gregg said, closing his eyes, the words devour a child resounding in his head like a horrible refrain.
“—five, maybe six years ago.” Don paused briefly. “That wasn’t the first, either. It’s usually difficult for it to latch itself to a single man or woman with
a child of Mary’s age, especially if they place their children above themselves, but Ronnie was different, he already had problems and—”
“I’m sorry,” Gregg said, heart pounding. “But I can’t listen to this right now.”
Don stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gone on like that.”
“It’s okay,” Gregg said, feeling the tears spring to his eyes. “I just—”
“Tomorrow’s a big day,” Don said. “So is the next day. Just remember to keep Mary with you all the time.”
“Do you think Diana will try to take Mary?” Gregg blurted.
“If she can get her alone, yes,” Don said. He lowered his voice. “And...Gregg? I don’t mean to be nosy, but...you might want to emphasize this point to Brenda. I know they live out in the country and people leave their doors and windows unlocked in the summer out there but...”
Gregg felt his heart freeze. “Is Mary in danger out there?”
“Brenda just needs to be careful,” Don said. “More careful than she’s ever been before with a child. That’s all. I mean....I don’t mean to be nosy or anything, but—”
“I’ll speak to her,” Gregg said. “In fact, I’m calling her right after I get off the phone with you.”
Which he did. But before he picked up the phone to call Brenda, he went to the dresser where he had placed the bottle of Jack Daniels and refilled his glass.
BRENDA WANDREI LISTENED on Mary’s end of the conversation as she spoke with Gregg on the phone. It was late—close to eleven p.m.—and Gregg had sounded drunk when she answered the phone, but it wasn’t her place to judge. He was going through a lot—they all were. And when he asked to speak to Mary, she’d instinctively passed the phone over to the little girl.
“Yeah, I know,” Mary said, nodding solemnly. Mary was dressed in a pair of pink pajamas but she hadn’t gone to bed. They had stayed up and watched Shrek and were now watching the Disney channel. Nobody could sleep.
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