‘Here,’ she said. ‘I think Baby is tired. Maybe you should sing her a lullaby so she can go back to sleep.’
The child reached out and gathered the doll up into her arms along with the stuffed kitten.
‘They are very tired,’ she announced. ‘They are going to sleep.’
Blair nodded. Meanwhile, she fished through the pile of clothes until she found that pair of Ariel’s socks which she had seen earlier. She untied them and slipped the two batteries inside one of them. Then she tied a knot near where they rested in the toe. Trista, meanwhile, was holding a conversation between the doll and the kitten.
Blair weighed the weapon in her hand. It was heavy, thanks to the batteries. But she knew full well that her window of opportunity was going to be brief.
‘What are you doing?’ the child asked.
‘Nothing,’ Blair whispered. ‘Getting ready.’
THIRTY-FOUR
Blair wanted to wait, standing up, with her feet planted. But she knew it would upset the child and her anxiety might telegraph a warning. So Blair crouched down on the closet floor. Chills were surging through her, but she could not afford to let them distract her. She was only going to have one chance. One shot. She wished desperately that she was at her best, with all her wits about her. She thought about Ariel saying that she had tried to hit him, to knock him out once, but she wasn’t strong enough. At least Blair had something heavy to wield against him. Blair had made herself a jailhouse blackjack with batteries in a sock. It was not a gun or a knife, but it was something. And it was not as if she had a choice. She had to take the opportunity and give it her best. Her best shot. Blair tightened her grip on the knotted sock and waited for the door to open.
It felt as if they had been in the closet for hours by the time she heard him outside the door, fiddling with the lock.
‘All right in there,’ he chirped. ‘Time to come out.’
Blair scrambled to her feet as she heard the click of the padlock and saw the doorknob turn. She was shaking from the effects of the fever, or perhaps from fear, she thought, but she would stand her ground. The window of opportunity was going to be very narrow.
The door began to open and Trista rushed to push herself through the opening calling out, ‘Mommy, Mommy.’
‘Hey little girl. What’s your hurry?’ Joe asked genially. He crouched down and reached out, to try and waylay the child as she hurtled through the opening in the door.
His head was bent; a bald spot visible on the crown of his head. Accessible. Now, Blair thought. Now.
She lifted up the heavy, knotted sock, lunged forward so that her leg was wedged in the door and brought her makeshift weapon down with all her might on his head. There was a satisfying thwack as the batteries cracked into his skull and he dropped to the floor, with a surprised expression on his face.
For a moment, Blair was paralyzed with disbelief. He lay at her feet. She resisted the urge to kick him. Blair pushed through the door and began to call for Ariel. She rounded the corner into the room and saw that Ariel was still on the bed, half undressed. Her arms were tied to the bedframe above her head and her legs were splayed out, tied to the bedposts. Trista sat on the bed beside her, singing softly to herself, as if having her mother trussed to the bedframe was business as usual.
‘Oh my God,’ Blair exclaimed. She rushed to the headboard and began to untie Ariel’s hands.
‘Where is he?’ Ariel asked.
‘I knocked him out with this,’ said Blair, through gritted teeth, setting her makeshift weapon down on the bed. ‘But I doubt he’ll be out for long.’ Her fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she struggled to untie the knots. Losing precious time, she kept thinking. We have to get out. For a moment, she thought perhaps she could leave Ariel there and run. Run for help. But she knew immediately that she could not. The idea of forcing Ariel to watch Blair go through the door, leaving her behind, was crueler than anything Blair could imagine. Not possible. She redoubled her efforts.
One hand was free. Now the next. Blair felt sweat running down the sides of her face, clammy under her clothes. She began to work the other knot free.
Suddenly, there was a groan from the direction of the hallway.
‘Jesus, hurry,’ Ariel pleaded.
Blair fumbled with the knots and finally one of them came loose. Ariel jerked her own hand free.
‘Untie your feet,’ Blair commanded. ‘I need to get those keys so we can get out of here.’
‘Mommy, what is the lady doing?’ Trista asked.
‘Helping us,’ said Ariel as she maneuvered herself around, so that she could reach the restraints on her feet.
Blair went back to where Joe Reese lay on the floor. His head was bleeding and Blair felt a certain satisfaction in that. But his eyes were open and he was starting to stir. Blair went over to him and jerked at the keys on his belt. They were on a metal ring and Blair realized she would have to unbuckle his belt to free them. The thought of it made her light-headed with revulsion. She forced herself to bend down beside him and, with trembling fingers, start to work the belt free of its buckle.
He formed an inchoate sentence and Blair could tell that his gaze had rolled in the direction of her face. She did not look. She freed the tail of the belt and began to pull it from the belt loops, working her way toward the keys.
Suddenly, with the speed of a striking snake, his hand shot toward her and grabbed her wrist. Blair let out a scream. He was holding her more tightly than she thought possible, considering the blow he had suffered.
‘Let go,’ she screamed.
She tried to scramble away from him, but she only dragged him with her, as he held on tight.
‘Let me go, you bastard,’ she yelled.
Just as their eyes met, Ariel staggered around the corner. She held the knotted sock in one hand. She stared at them for a moment and then, her face twisted with rage, she raised the weighted sock. With a sharp cry she brought it down on his head. The blow was fierce. The moment it connected, Blair felt his grip on her wrist let go. Ariel struck again. Twice.
‘Ariel stop,’ Blair whispered urgently. ‘Don’t kill him.’
Ariel stared at the heap on the ground, her jailer for nearly half her life, and raised the sock again. ‘Why not?’ she asked.
Blair forced her to meet her gaze. ‘They could put you in jail for it. That’s why. Leave him. We’re almost free.’
Just then Trista toddled around the corner and saw Joe, bleeding on the ground.
‘Dada!’ she cried in dismay.
Blair grabbed the keys from Joe’s belt and motioned for Ariel to follow her. Ariel dropped her weapon and reached out to scoop up her child in her arms. ‘Don’t look,’ Ariel said. ‘Don’t look. We’re going.’
It was pitch dark as they stumbled outside. The air was cold and crisp and the sky was full of stars. Blair let Ariel go through the door first, clutching her baby in her arms. She stumbled and nearly fell, but then she regained her balance.
‘I freezing,’ the child exclaimed.
Ariel pulled her close and stood outside of the barn, staring up at the stars, gulping in the air. ‘Look! The sky!’ she exclaimed.
Blair hurried out and locked the padlock on the door behind her. Even if he was able to recover enough to stand up, Joe Reese would not get out. She motioned for Ariel to follow her out from behind the barn. They staggered along in the dark. Blair led the way, because she knew the way. Ariel knew nothing of where they were. She probably remembered little of the outside world. Clutching her child, she followed Blair.
They came around the side of the barn and, suddenly, lights went on in the house. Darlene, Blair thought. She will help us. Blair started to walk toward the porch when all of a sudden the back door opened and Darlene walked out. She was in her bathrobe and her hair was in rollers. She was holding a shotgun and she aimed it at the three who were crossing her driveway.
‘Who’s there?’ Darlene cried.
‘Darlene, don�
�t. It’s me. It’s Blair.’
Darlene peered into the darkness. ‘Blair? What are you doing here? Who’s that with you?’
‘Can we come inside? I’ll tell you everything.’
Darlene lowered the gun. ‘No. You’ll wake up Joe. He’s sleeping,’ said Darlene.
Blair shook her head. ‘He’s not. He’s back there. In the barn.’
‘What’s he doing in the barn?’ Darlene asked.
Blair hesitated. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘Who are those people with you?’
‘Look, Darlene. I don’t know how to tell you this.’
‘Tell me what?’ Darlene demanded.
‘Your brother … Joe has been holding this woman a prisoner out there. And her child. And me.’
Darlene hesitated and then slowly she raised the gun again. ‘That’s a lie. Don’t take another step.’
‘Darlene, I promise you,’ said Blair. ‘He’s in the barn. He’s hurt. He probably needs an ambulance. You should call for help.’
Darlene aimed the gun directly at Blair. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said. ‘What are you trying to pull?’
‘Darlene, I’m not trying to pull anything. I’m telling you the truth. You know me.’
‘I don’t know you.’ Darlene started to descend the steps, the gun trained on Blair.
Ariel watched this unfolding conversation with horror. She saw the woman approaching with the gun and it was too much, too much to be finally free, only to be threatened again. She clutched Trista to her breast and started to run, tripping on the stones in the driveway and falling to her knees.
Darlene swung the shotgun around and pointed it at the mother and baby. ‘You stop there. Halt.’
‘No, you stop, Darlene,’ cried a deep voice in the darkness. ‘Stop or I’ll shoot.’
Darlene lowered the gun, shocked and puzzled, as Tom emerged into the arc of light from the back porchlight, his hands gripping a revolver.
‘Tom!’ Blair cried.
‘Ellis,’ Tom ordered the older man behind him. ‘Take that gun away from her before she kills someone.’
Ellis surged up the steps towards the armed woman on the porch. Darlene quickly turned the gun on him, but Ellis just kept coming. ‘Darlene, listen. You have to give that to me. Just give it here.’
‘You bastard,’ Darlene cried and then she burst into tears and lowered the gun. Ellis reached her quickly and pulled the shotgun from her hands as Darlene sagged against him.
‘Uncle Ellis?’ Blair asked, hardly able to comprehend that her uncle was a part of this rescue effort.
Ellis turned and glowered at her. ‘What the hell, Blair?’
Tom rushed over to Blair, Ariel and Trista, huddled on the cold, damp ground. He and Blair exchanged a solemn look.
‘This is Ariel,’ said Blair. ‘And Trista. Ariel, are you all right? Is the baby …?’
‘We’re all right,’ said Ariel.
Tom crouched down beside them and picked up his phone, his other hand wrapped protectively around Blair’s forearm. He called the police and told them to call for an ambulance. Calmly, he gave them the information they needed.
‘How did you know?’ Blair whispered.
‘We didn’t. We just knew that your phone was in this field and that didn’t make any sense. We came back here to search for it. Truthfully, we weren’t sure what to do next. We were trying to decide, when all hell broke loose.’
Blair shuddered. ‘My phone must have fallen from Joe’s pocket after he took it from me, after he locked me up in there.’
Tom reached out and squeezed her shoulder. ‘It’s all right now. You’re alive. You’re free.’
Ellis and Darlene descended the porch steps. Ellis had set the shotgun down carefully against the porch railing. ‘You are done with this gun, woman,’ he said.
‘Joe,’ Darlene cried. ‘My Joe.’
‘Joe can rot,’ Blair said coldly.
‘Is he alive?’ Tom asked.
‘Only because I didn’t have a gun,’ said Blair. ‘He killed Molly. It was him.’
Tom nodded. ‘Thank God he didn’t kill you.’
Blair gazed at Ariel, dirty, pale and disheveled, rocking her weeping child in her arms. ‘Or them,’ she said.
And then the flash of lights and the blessed sound of sirens approaching, drowned out all her thoughts and every other sound.
THIRTY-FIVE
‘Mr Muhammed,’ said Judge Meredith Shapiro.
Yusef, well groomed, in new glasses and a new – albeit slightly too large – suit stood at stone-faced attention beside his attorney, Brooks Whitman.
‘As you know, Mr Joseph Reese has allocuted, as part of a plea deal, that it was he who killed Molly Sinclair. And Ms Ariel Trautwig, who was Reese’s prisoner, has testified that she was present when that murder occurred and that Mr Reese was, indeed, Molly Sinclair’s killer.
‘But for the fact that your alibi witness lied under oath, Mr Muhammed, you would have never been incarcerated for that crime. In light of the new facts which have come to light in this case, I have granted unusual leeway to your attorney, to allow the testimony of the deceased witness’s sister – regarding that witness’s deathbed confession – to be on the record.
‘The facts in a wrongful conviction are rarely this compelling. I am convinced beyond a doubt that any jury who might hear this case would consider it a grave miscarriage of justice. Therefore, I am vacating your conviction. I hope that – by vacating the conviction – I will speed the process for the inevitable lawsuit which, I am sure, you will be filing against the state. In my opinion, you deserve compensation for your suffering. You are a free man Mr Muhammed and, may I say, I sincerely regret all that you have endured at the hands of the justice system. Godspeed, Mr Muhammed. This court is adjourned.’
Judge Shapiro banged her gavel on the desk.
‘All rise,’ said the bailiff and everyone in the courtroom was compelled to keep their exuberance restrained, until the judge disappeared through the door.
The first to cry out was Yusef’s mother, Lucille Jones, who came around to embrace her son. She clung to him for a long time. Brooks Whitman finally approached them and gently pried them apart. Yusef and Brooks shook hands. Janet and Robbie Sinclair clung to one another and wiped away tears.
Yusef separated himself from friends and family, who had come out to support him, and walked over to the frail, pale-skinned woman who sat silently in front of Blair.
‘Ariel,’ Yusef said. ‘Thank you for testifying. I really appreciate it.’
Ariel held Yusef’s gaze and cupped his large brown hand in between her own pale hands. ‘I’m glad it turned out this way.’
Blair looked on with a dawning realization. ‘You know, I think there’s something going on between those two,’ she whispered.
Tom Olson nodded. ‘It makes perfect sense when you think about it. Who else could understand them? It must be impossible for them to relate to the rest of the world. They were both imprisoned, through no fault of their own, for years. How could they ever explain what they’ve suffered? But to one another, there’s no need to explain.’
Blair glanced at Tom appreciatively. ‘You’re right. That’s really true.’
Tom shrugged. ‘I get it right now and then.’
Robbie and Janet got up from their seats and Janet held out her arms to Blair.
They embraced briefly.
‘Thank you, Blair,’ Janet murmured. ‘I’m so relieved that this is over. This would never have happened without you.’
‘Maybe, at last, a little bit of justice for Molly.’
‘And for us, it’s better to know,’ said Robbie. ‘Somehow, it’s easier. Blair, you really were her best friend.’
‘I’m glad I could finally help,’ said Blair. ‘Now, you two need some rest.’
‘We do. I’m taking her on a vacation,’ said Robbie.
‘Good,’ said Blair, smiling.
Brooks Whitman came up to them, h
is face ruddy with excitement. ‘We won,’ he said. ‘Now it’s on to the civil suit. That’s going to take a while longer. They really need a compensation statute in this state.’
‘I agree,’ said Blair. ‘I mean, why should Yusef have to fight this battle again in court? The state took years of his life, even the judge seemed to agree.’
‘Her remarks on the record will certainly be helpful,’ said Brooks.
‘I can’t imagine that this suit will meet much resistance,’ said Tom. ‘This case has been in the newspapers for months.’
‘Neither can I, but I may need you to look into a few things for me.’
‘It would be my pleasure to help,’ said Tom.
Brooks clapped Tom on the back and kissed Blair on the cheek. ‘One for the good guys,’ he said, waving as he walked away to join the reporters, who were waiting for comment.
Blair and Tom turned to leave the courtroom when Yusef called Blair by name. She turned and saw him approaching, with Lucille under one arm and Ariel walking steadily by his side. Blair was a little reluctant to meet his gaze.
‘I’m very happy for you,’ she said. ‘This should never have happened to you.’
‘No,’ he said.
Blair looked into his large, dark eyes behind his glasses. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see there. Resentment? Forgiveness? Gratitude? She could not tell by looking at him. He had spent years in jail, keeping his feelings out of sight. Blair was not skilled enough to read them on his face now.
‘I’m sorry for all you went through,’ she said. ‘And for what my sister did to you.’
Yusef was unsmiling, his voice neutral. ‘I’m trying to figure out how to forgive her. It’s not easy.’
Blair nodded. ‘I’m sure not.’
‘But,’ he continued, ‘if not for you, this day would have never come. Thank you for … your persistence,’ he said.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Blair. ‘This outcome is a great relief to me.’ She gazed at Ariel, who was standing quietly by. ‘How are you doing?’
The Girl in the Woods Page 27