She scrolled through the pages and stopped short at an article with the headline:
WOMAN FOUND IN BROWNSTONE STAIRWELL
She read the text of the article:
A woman in her early thirties was found unconscious and bleeding at the bottom of the front steps of a brownstone in Greenwich Village last night. A resident spotted the woman and immediately called 911. She was taken to a nearby hospital with traumatic brain injuries. The identity of the woman is not yet known. Police are asking anyone who has information to please contact 311.
She read the article several times. Could that have been her? She closed her eyes, straining to remember. She and Rick often stopped for a bite to eat at a restaurant in the village. She searched the article again for an exact location of the brownstone, but no address was given. Perhaps she could get a copy of the police report. That was something she could do from her own computer. It was public information.
Ellie went to the police-blotter pages and scrolled through dozens of incident reports from that evening. There were arrests for drunk and disorderly, distribution of a controlled substance, loitering, harassment, shooting, purse snatching, breaking and entering, armed robbery . . . the list went on and on. Then she found what she was looking for among reports on a series of muggings. As she combed the report, a chill went up her spine.
12:45 A.M.
Location: 349 West 11th Street
Victim: White female/age 30+/-
Name: Missing identification
Description: Mugging—Subject was found at base of the front steps of a brownstone, unconscious. Head wound either by blunt object or due to fall. Purse and contents not on scene.
EMS arrived and took subject to Lenox Health. No witnesses.
It was right around the corner from the Pasteria, a place where she and Rick used to hang out.
She read and reread what little information there was. A strange buzz went through her head again. She started to get dizzy. She had to fight the sensation. She knew she was getting closer to the truth. Why hadn’t anyone told her? She looked at the clock. It was almost 4:00 A.M. She reached for the phone designated for her mother and Kara. Ellie could not possibly wait until dawn. Two years had been long enough.
“Mother. Don’t panic. I’m OK. But I had to speak with you now.”
Ellie’s mother was groggy. “Oh dear, what is it? What is going on at this time in the morning? Or whatever time it is where you are?”
“I had another nightmare. About the incident. Rick was in it. He was standing over me while I was falling into an abyss. I reached out to him, and he let me fall.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Mother?”
“I’m here, honey. It’s just that no one has heard from him since he skipped town.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Ellie answered.
“What do you mean?”
“Rick called Christian and asked him for $5,000.”
“After all this time? What on earth for?”
“He claims it’s for some sort of start-up company. He wanted Chris to put the money in a PayPal account.”
“Isn’t that a bit odd?”
“Of course it’s odd.”
“What did Christian say?”
“He said he would discuss it with Kara. That’s how I found out. Kara called me the other day. She told Christian that she would kick his butt if he did what Rick asked.”
“Sounds like Kara.” Her mother chuckled. “I don’t suppose he asked about you?”
“Of course not. Why should he? He didn’t seem to care when I was in the hospital.” Ellie felt her stress growing.
“Do they know where he is?”
“He said he was traveling.”
“Yes, like he traveled right out of here the morning you were admitted to the hospital.”
“Mother, I think I have an idea of what happened that night.” Ellie was resolute.
“I don’t understand.” Her mother had waited for over two years. Why now?
“Let me explain.” Ellie took a deep breath. “My nightmare. This was the second time I was being swallowed into a dark hole, but this time Rick was in it. When I woke up, I had a strange buzzing in my head.”
“Honey, you know you have to be careful of those recurring migraines.”
“Luckily, I’ve had very few over the past several months. I’m OK now.”
“That’s good news, dear,” her mother cooed.
“Here’s the thing. I went online and searched the newspapers for the date of the incident. I found a small article in the Daily News about a woman who was found unconscious at the bottom of the front steps of a brownstone.”
More silence from the other end.
“Mother?”
“Yes, yes. I heard you.”
“Then I went to the police blotter to try to get more information. Mother? Was that me?” Ellie cringed, waiting for a response.
Her mother took a deep gulp before answering. “Yes.”
“And no one told me?” Ellie was getting agitated.
“You couldn’t remember what happened. The doctors said you would in time and that we should not push you.”
“Instead, you made me wonder for two years?” Ellie was pacing now.
“It was a severe trauma, honey. No one wanted to do anything that would upset you.” Her mother sounded tearful.
“Mom? Rick was there when I fell.”
“What?” Her mother was stunned by her remark.
“That’s why he disappeared,” Ellie said blankly.
“But your purse. It was missing.”
“We were having an argument on the street.” Ellie felt like she was in a trance. “He was really angry and grabbed me by the shoulders. When I tried to push him away, I lost my footing and fell backward. He grabbed the strap of my purse, to keep me from falling, and it broke.” Ellie was in a sweat. “He must have taken off with it to make what happened look like a mugging.”
“But why didn’t he stay to help you?” Ellie’s mother was irate.
“Because he never takes responsibility for anything. He probably thought no one would believe that it was an accident.”
“Do you think it was an accident?” her mother asked suspiciously. “Your memory isn’t that good. Perhaps this is what you want to remember—an accident.”
“Mother, I can’t think of any reason why Rick would purposely push me down a flight of stairs.”
“Because he’s an obnoxious, selfish, nasty piece of work, that’s why.”
“But to what end? What would be in it for him? Rick never did anything that was not in his own interest.” Ellie was perplexed.
“Maybe he didn’t feel like waiting around for the police and having to answer questions. Why do you think he fled town?” Her mother was resolute.
“That is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.” Then it occurred to Ellie that her mother might be right and that Rick would be looking for her to finish the job that had begun that night. “Gosh, do you think that’s why he called Christian? To try to find me?” Ellie tried to control her panic. “But he didn’t ask about me.”
“No, but he asked for money. Maybe he’s going to pay someone to find you.” Her mom took a deep breath. “It’s a good thing you’re working on a government contract out of the country, so it will be difficult to locate you.”
Ellie resisted the urge to tell her mother the truth. She wasn’t out of the country. Then a horrible thought came to mind. If Rick was trying to find her, she needed to do something about it. About him. She didn’t want to cause her mother any more concern. “Right.” That’s when she decided she would do a deep dive into finding Rick. Before he found her.
“Mom? I know you worry about me, but I cannot tell you how relieved I am that I can finally remember the gist of what happened that night and that I didn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.”
Although she thought she might have one momentarily.
�
�Libby, I am so happy to hear it.”
Yes, her real name was Elizabeth Gannon. That much she did know and always had.
Chapter Thirty-one
The morning of Mitchel’s hearing had arrived. He went to court, dressed in a suit and well-groomed. He felt good. He knew that he had disappointed a lot of people in the past, but he was determined to continue on his path of redemption. He owed it to his son, Colleen, Greg, Elaine, and Otto, not to mention all the others he had insulted and failed along the way.
Colleen arrived with her mother. Vivian was with Greg. Colleen was surprised at the warm welcome she received from her soon-to-be-ex mother-in-law. Maybe what they said was true. Vivian had had some kind of epiphany. They sat on opposite sides of the courtroom; Mitchel sat at the defendant’s table with his lawyer. Officer Pedone stood against the wall, in full uniform. He nodded to Colleen when she entered. It gave her goose bumps. In a good way.
Mitchel looked over in her direction and smiled. It was a genuine smile.
Once the judge was seated, the clerk announced the charges.
“How do you plead?”
“Guilty, Your Honor.” Some people gasped in horror, but many others weren’t the least bit surprised.
Mitchel’s lawyer had approached the prosecutor early on to offer a guilty plea and obtain the best deal for Mitchel that he could.
“If I may, Your Honor,” Mitchel’s lawyer asked the court.
“By all means,” the judge replied.
“My client understands that by pleading guilty, he will not go to trial, saving everyone, including the fine taxpayers of the county, time and money.”
“That’s quite generous of him,” the judge said, a bit sarcastically.
“Mr. Haywood has agreed to serve two years’ probation and perform one thousand hours of community service. He is asking the court to recommend additional counseling, to be appointed by the court.” The lawyer cleared his throat. “In the matter of the temporary restraining order, Your Honor, Mr. Haywood asks that it be lifted.”
“And why should I do such a thing?” asked the judge.
“My client has been attending meetings for anger management and alcohol abuse. He is once again gainfully employed and wishes to have an ongoing relationship with his son.”
“Mr. Haywood, is this what you are agreeing to?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mrs. Haywood. Would you care to make a statement?”
Colleen stood. “Yes, Your Honor. I’ve known Mitchel for many years. And while the evening of the event was horrifying, it was nothing like the way he normally behaved. Yes, he was drunk, and that is no excuse, but I believe he is making a valiant effort to turn his life around. I, too, want him to have a relationship with his son, so I will not object to lifting the order.”
Murmurs and whispers went around the courtroom. Colleen looked over at Officer Pedone, and he gave her a nod of approval. He understood the importance of a father-son relationship and how vital it is for divorced parents to have good rapport.
“Very well. The clerk will enter your plea, and I will accept the terms of your punishment and lift the temporary restraining order.” He banged his gavel, and just like that, the hearing was over.
Colleen walked over to Mitchel. “I’ve heard good things, Mitch. Jackson will be very happy to see you more often.”
“Thanks, Colleen. You know I’m very sorry for the way I treated you. You deserve better. I know there’s no future for us as husband and wife, but I hope we can be partners in raising our son.”
“So do I. We can work it out with our lawyers. Where are you planning on living?”
“Believe it or not, I’m moving back into my mother’s house. She could use someone to help with chores. Besides, the house is big enough that we won’t get in each other’s way. Jackson can have his own room and decent meals when he’s with me. You know I’m a crummy cook.” Mitchel smiled.
Colleen smiled. “I’m glad things are turning around for you. And I know you’re the one doing the work. Let’s talk on the phone and come up with a plan. Personally, I would prefer to have him during the week so as not to disrupt his school schedule, and you can have him on weekends. Naturally, if anything comes up in the middle of the week, we can work things out. Does that sound good to you?”
“Sure thing. You know how much I hate doing homework.” Mitchel chuckled.
“Sounds good. Take care.” Colleen walked over to her mother.
“What did he have to say for himself?” Judith sneered.
“Oh, Mother, you’re getting your wish. We’re getting a divorce,” Colleen said, with the slightest bit of exasperation. “And we’re working out custody.”
“Really? Where is he going to take Jackson? Greg and Elaine’s basement?” she scoffed.
“No. He’s moving into Vivian’s.”
“That sounds like a horror show to me.” Judith was appalled.
“I don’t know about that. She’s been rather mellow lately. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Speak of the devil,” Judith muttered under her breath.
“Hello, Colleen. Judith.” Vivian smiled at both of them. “I’m happy to see that you and Mitchel can be civil with each other. He’s working hard at redemption.”
“I can tell. He said he was moving back into your house?”
“Yes. To be honest, I was on the verge of putting it on the market. It was getting to be too much for me. But Mitchel’s being around will be a relief, and I do so want to keep the place in the family. It can use some TLC, and I’m sure Jackson won’t mind dipping a brush in a can of paint.” She chuckled.
“As long as you and Mitch do the laundry.” Colleen laughed. “Have a good day, Vivian.”
“You both do the same.” Vivian caught up with Mitchel in the hall.
“What’s come over her?” Judith referred to Vivian’s mood.
“I told you, she seems to be on her own path of rehabilitation. Frankly, I don’t know, and I don’t care, as long as she stays that way,” Colleen said.
“I’m sure everyone around her does.”
“Mom, I’ll be right back. I want to speak to Officer Pedone.” Colleen walked in his direction.
“Thank you for coming today. It was comforting to see you.”
“I’m glad it worked out for everyone,” Pedone said.
Colleen looked up at him. “About that dinner.”
Pedone thought she was going to change her mind.
“Would Saturday night be too soon?”
“Not at all. What time?” His serious face turned into a big grin.
“Six?” Colleen knew Jackson would be with his father for an overnight, so she didn’t have to think about asking Jeanne and Frank to babysit. Not that they would mind, but she hoped that this was the first date of many, and she wanted to save up her favors.
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up in an unmarked car.” He laughed.
Vivian and Mitchel spoke for a few minutes, then Vivian went on her way. Mitchel headed to the shop, where a new, clean uniform awaited.
Vivian got in her car and checked the gas level. Enough to get her there and back. She put the car in drive and proceeded to the outlet shops. Cranking up the radio, she started singing along with Linda Ronstadt, as she belted out “When Will I Be Loved.”
Vivian found the shop where she had nicked the scarf for half of what it was worth. She confidently sauntered in and pulled another floral scarf from the rack. The price tag said $38.00.
She walked up to the counter and plunked down $40.00. As the cashier was putting the scarf in a bag, Vivian pulled out another twenty and slipped it on the counter where the clerk wouldn’t see it right away. The clerk handed her the bag without noticing the extra money sitting there. Vivian walked out of the store with a spring in her step. Mitchel isn’t the only one who can experience redemption. She smiled to herself. If the math added up, the store was ahead of the game, and Vivian was happier for it.
While e
veryone was at the hearing, Ellie was typing away on her computer. She was able to pull up traffic cams of the neighborhood where the incident had occurred and was examining the videos. She halted when she spotted someone looking exactly like Rick dashing across Seventh Avenue. The time stamp was 12:35 A.M. She looked at the police report again—12:45. Ten minutes. She had lain on the cold cement stairs bleeding nearly to death for at least ten minutes. She could have died. She almost died. She was now completely convinced that her vague recollection was true. The only question was, had Rick pushed her? But even if he hadn’t, leaving her crumpled and bleeding at the bottom of the steps instead of calling 911 should be criminal. So, if she had the opportunity, she would assume it was assault and report it as such.
She picked up her burner phone and called Kara.
“Wow. Two calls in one week?” Kara laughed as she answered the phone. “They let you out of the box?”
“Very funny,” she scoffed. “Are you sitting down?”
“Should I be?” Kara asked.
“Yes. Please.”
“What’s up?”
“I remember some of what happened that night.” She took a very deep inhale. “I fell down a set of steps outside a brownstone in the Village.”
Kara caught her breath. “You remember that? You fell?”
“That’s the only thing that’s a little hazy. I’ve had two nightmares since Rick got in touch with Christian.”
“Darn it. I shouldn’t have told you,” Kara said, concern evident in her voice.
“No. It’s a good thing you did. It triggered my memory. The first nightmare was me falling backward into a dark hole. The second one included Rick. He was standing over me, watching me fall. I reached out for him, and he did not keep me from falling.”
“Holy smoke.” Kara was stunned.
“When I woke up from the nightmare, I did a deep dive into some archives, one being a newspaper’s. When I saw the article, I thought it might be me they were writing about because it said, ‘Identity of the woman not yet known.’ ”
Kara interrupted. “That’s because they thought it was a mugging and it was an ongoing investigation.”
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