by Midge Bubany
He said, “Consummate beauty and brains.”
“People say no to you?”
He cocked his head. “Sometimes.”
“I just wondered how you related to the quote.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Einstein said if you can’t explain something simply, then you don’t understand it well enough, or something to that effect.”
He blinked at me. I pointed to the family photo on his desk. All four members were blond, attractive. “Nice looking family. Your boys look like you.”
He glanced at the photo and smiled briefly. “Thanks.” Then he sat back and crossed his arms. “So, you’re inquiring about Silver Dawson?”
“Yes. Do all seventeen-year-old girls have an OB/GYN?”
“Ah . . . no.” He turned and pulled open a file drawer in the cabinet behind his desk. He fingered through several files and pulled out a manila folder and placed it on his desk.
“Is that Silver’s file?”
“Yes.”
“You have one of your own? That’s great.”
“When she went missing, I made a copy and added notes to it.”
“So why was she your patient?”
Dr. Kline paged through the file.
“On August 22, 1996, Silver Rae’s sister brought her in with cramping and heavy bleeding—a spontaneous abortion. By that time, it was pretty much over. She didn’t need any further treatment like a DNC or anything. I gave her some pain meds, and she was on her way.
“When she came in for a follow-up a month later, I asked her about birth control. She claimed she was a virgin. So I took the opportunity to explain how girls get pregnant. She burst into tears and told me what she thought happened. I’ll never forget her story.
“Evidently, she attended a party at a lake cabin over the Fourth. Silver said she’d only had one beer but it made her feel odd and she didn’t remember much of the party. Later she found her panties were on backwards, the crotch wet and bloody. She was sore, thought she’d been raped, but had no memory of it.”
“Sounds like Rohypnol,” I said.
He nodded. “I agree, but at the time, I assumed she just wasn’t truthful about how much alcohol she’d consumed or what really had happened.”
“Did she share with you who she thought the rapist was?”
“She said she didn’t know, but I’m not sure she would’ve told me if she did. She was concerned her parents not find out. I assured her it was private medical information. She paid cash for her visits so the bills wouldn’t go to her house.”
“Did you encourage her to report the rape to the police? Sixteen years ago Prairie Falls still had their own PD.”
“I probably erred when I told her reporting a rape several weeks later with no physical evidence and without knowing who the rapist was wouldn’t stand up in court. What if she’d come to you with that information?”
“You’re correct,” I admitted. “It’d be hard to prove, but I’d have encouraged her to report it anyway, then seek counseling.”
He nodded.
I continued, “Did you use the word ‘rape’ in the file?”
“No, I just used the medical data in central records.”
“Where it got purged. Did she continue to be your patient?”
“No, I didn’t see her after her recheck.”
“Was this file shared with the investigator fifteen years ago?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure it was asked for.”
“Really? Well, great foresight to save it,” I said.
He nodded. “Just so you know, I didn’t mention to anyone here I saved it.”
“Any particular reason why?”
Kline looked at his hands, folded as if in prayer. He began sliding them up and down, and then stopped and placed both flat on the desk, palms down.
“Because of Bentley Gage’s son, Parker. He was dating her at the time she went missing, and was one of the early suspects. I’m sure you’re aware Bentley’s a partner of the clinic and Parker’s now practicing here as well.” He raised his eyebrows as he said, “Very sticky situation.”
“Well, murders are sticky, too—and if that means discomfort for a few people, so be it,” I said.
“So the remains are Silver Rae’s?”
“It still needs to be substantiated with physical proof. May I have this file?”
He nodded and handed it to me.
“Thanks for your time and diligence,” I said.
“Lucky we had paper copies back then. Today everything’s on the computer and with a click of a button—poof—it’s gone.”
“Do you think someone at the clinic would have wanted it to disappear?”
“No, no. I’m not saying that,” he said.
Oh, but he is. When I shook his hand good-bye I noticed it was cold and clammy. Why is he so nervous?
“You were a young doctor then. Were you married?”
“Yes. I was newly married when I started here.”
“I have to ask you this: Were you involved with Silver Rae in any way other than professionally?”
He scowled. “No, sir, definitely not.”
“Okay, gotta ask. She worked as a volunteer in the hospital. You see her there?”
“Occasionally. We had several high school girls come in. Now volunteers are adults, mostly seniors.”
“Who handled the volunteer program back then?”
“Same person who does it today: Shelia Marks.”
“Thank you for speaking with me, Doctor,” I said as I took my leave.
Time will tell if the good doctor goes on my suspect list, I thought as I walked out of the clinic. The party where Silver was possibly raped is new—and significant. I wonder how much Bentley Gage knew about this.
When I returned to the department, the Dawson case file had been copied and ready for pick-up. I made two copies of the medical file: one for Troy and one for myself to add to my nighttime reading. I drove to Troy’s townhouse.
“Come on in,” he said.
I reluctantly stepped inside, wishing I had a mask. “Feeling any better?”
“A little.”
He didn’t look any better.
“Want a beer?” he asked.
“Ah, no. I can’t stay.”
Frankly, I wanted to get the hell of there. I quickly recapped what I learned from Kline, then added, “I hadn’t had high expectations about getting anything from the medical files, but the pregnancy and possible rape change things.”
“Definitely.”
I patted the thick folder and handed it to him. “We’ll see what Ralph knew. Happy reading.”
I left and headed home. After seeing the thick file, Shannon took the boys to visit her parents so I could have undisturbed time to go through it. She had made tacos for dinner and had a plate for me to warm up. I sat at the kitchen counter and ate while I started reading.
The medical information Kline gave me was not in Ralph’s original case file. Silver’s school records were, though. She had been an A student throughout her three years of high school. Her teachers had only positive comments. Fifteen years ago, the case had dead-ended. I really wanted to solve it now for Silver Rae and her parents, but I needed something beyond the old evidence in order to break open this case. This wasn’t going to be easy.
Chapter 9
August 17
Friday was a beautiful day—and I’d be spending it indoors. Troy wasn’t in yet, but we had interviews scheduled, so I hoped he’d arrive early enough for us to prepare together.
About eight o’clock, I got a call from the lobby saying Ms. Valero was there to see me. I suspected it was about p
eople continuing to come onto her property. But when I walked up to her, she handed me a heart earring identical to the one found with Silver Rae’s remains.
“Where did you get this?” I asked.
“Maddie said Del found it under the old stove when he remodeled the lodge. She thought it had been a family member’s until she read in this morning’s paper that one like it was found with the body. She was curious how it would get in her family’s lodge.”
“It was reported in this morning’s paper?”
“Front page. The article said the Dawsons were convinced the remains were their daughter’s because of the jewelry found with the body—a heart ring and one heart earring.”
“Damn it. The Dawsons have trouble keeping things to themselves.”
“Well, they have been through so much.”
“So, Del found it?”
“Yes. Why would Silver’s earring be in the lodge?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s your problem, not mine. I better get to work.”
“Thanks for dropping this off. Will you tell Maddie we need to keep this quiet? It may be significant evidence.”
“I will. See you later,” she said and walked off.
As soon as Patrice saw me at her open door, she signaled for me to enter. I placed the earring on her desk. She looked confused.
“This is the matching earring,” I said.
“Where did you find it?”
“Del Martin found it under the old stove at the Mitchell lodge when he remodeled. He thought it belonged to the Mitchells and gave it to Madison. She assumed it belonged to a family member until she read the front-page article in today’s paper, where the Dawsons describe the jewelry found with the body as Silver Rae’s. Maddie gave it to Adriana to give to me. How’s that for a chain of evidence?”
“Damn it. Didn’t we tell the Dawsons to keep it to themselves?”
“We did. Do you realize how significant this is? Unless she had an identical pair of earrings, this means Silver Rae was in that lodge on the day she died.”
Patrice rolled her head back and threw her hands in the air. “Was Ralph Martison’s investigation that sloppy? Was he that incompetent?”
“Ralph’s an excellent investigator,” I said in his defense. I thought highly of him and didn’t like his reputation tarnished by the new sheriff making her mark.
“You said it yourself—that earring places her in the lodge the day she died. And he didn’t find it—nor did he find her grave.”
“Anyway,” I said, “I told Adriana to tell Maddie to keep this to herself. We’ll have to ask Del to do the same. We’ll need to question him for the record.”
“I’ll speak to Del and Miss Mitchell myself,” Patrice said. “Now if you’ll be so kind as to check this earring into evidence.”
Instead of telling her to eat shit, I said, “No problem.”
As I was about to leave, she received a phone call. She held up her hand for me to wait. After she thanked the caller and hung up, she said, “DNA results and dental x-rays confirm our victim is Silver Rae Dawson.”
“Not that it’s a big surprise.”
At nine o’clock that morning, I stood in the warm sunshine on the top step in front of the stately courthouse, watching Sheriff Patrice Clinton make the brief but official announcement. She closed by making a plea for respect and privacy for the family. I kept looking for Troy in the crowd.
Ten minutes after we’d returned to the department, Ray Dawson called Patrice and asked if the family could visit the excavation site that morning. Patrice asked me to call Adriana to get permission. She agreed, and when I notified Patrice, she instructed me to meet the family at the site at ten o’clock.
When I arrived at Adriana’s a little before ten, I was surprised to find her there. She showed me an eighteen-inch, multi-colored stained glass cross she had placed at Silver Rae’s grave site. The dappled sunlight danced over the ground and through the stained glass, casting splashes of color. She had also laid a bouquet of flowers next to it. Who else laid flowers near her grave?
“Beautiful cross.”
“I bought it from Maddie. She does stained glass, as well. I’m going to give it to the Dawsons.”
“Nice gesture, Adriana.”
“I’m going to make a garden here in Silver’s honor.”
I nodded.
About 10:15 a.m., Patrice’s cruiser drove in, followed by three cars.
Shit, if she was coming, why did I have to be here? I have things to do before the interviews.
People piled out and followed Patrice to the site. Then Patrice suggested we go inside to give the family privacy. The three of us went up the deck steps into Adriana’s great room. Magna greeted us and served iced tea as we waited. I found her pleasantness so odd.
“Nice touch out there, Adriana, with the cross and flowers,” Patrice said.
“I’m going to give it to the parents. Patrice, do you think it appropriate if I speak to the family before they leave? I’ll be brief.”
“I think that would be fine,” she said and got up to look out the window. “Looks like things are winding up. Why don’t we go out now?”
Patrice and I followed Adriana out across the deck and down the stairs. As we approached, the family became quiet. The only sounds were the leaves rustling from the light breeze and a goldfinch perched at Adriana’s feeder, singing a sweet song. It then flitted above us to a tree.
Adriana went up to the Dawsons and said, “I’m Adriana Velero. I’m so very sorry for your great loss. In Silver’s memory, I’m going to make this spot into a flower garden. I’d like to plant some of her favorites. I’d welcome your input.”
Mrs. Dawson’s face turned hard and tight. With pursed lips she spurted, “This is where someone disposed of my girl like garbage. You want to plant flowers, that’s your choice, but I won’t be giving you input to beautify an ugly, evil location.”
The group remained motionless until a woman wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt stepped forward. She looked to be Silver’s sister, with the same round face and hooded eyes. She spoke, filling the uncomfortable silence after her mother’s blast of anger. “Mom, I think Adriana understands how painful this place is for us. It’s not pleasant for her, either. That’s why she wants to turn it into a lovely spot in Silver Rae’s memory. Adriana, I want to thank you for honoring my sister. The cross is beautiful, by the way.”
“It’s for you. You can take it with you if you wish,” she said. “Take all the time you need here.”
I followed Adriana into the house. Patrice stayed with the family. Adriana sat at the kitchen counter, dabbing away tears with a tissue. Magna had her arm draped across her daughter’s back.
“Don’t take it personally. She’s grieving,” I said.
Magna glanced at me and nodded, but Adriana stared straight ahead and said, “I know. I totally understand. It must be so painful.”
There was a knock on the screened patio door to the deck. Silver’s sister.
“Hi, I’m Ellie Dawson Connor,” she said. “May I speak with Adriana?”
I slid the door open to let her in.
Ellie said, “I apologize for my mother’s rudeness. She’s not usually like that.”
As Adriana walked toward Ellie she said, “I can only imagine how I’d feel if it were my child. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I think my parents had hoped she’d be found alive. It’s tearing them up she was so close all this time . . . and I feel bad your lovely property now has this tragedy attached to it.”
That wasn’t what she needed to hear. Adriana shook her head, fighting tears.
I said, “Ellie, I hate to bother you during this difficult time, but we’ll need to ask you some questions. Is there a time w
hen you could come into the Sheriff’s Department?”
“I’m free this afternoon, if that works.”
“Yes, definitely. How does two o’clock sound?”
“Perfect.”
“No one mentioned how Silver died. Do you know?” Ellie asked.
“We haven’t received the full autopsy report yet. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell after this amount of time.”
“What was left of her? I know I’m being morbid, but I want to know.”
I nodded. “Just her bones.”
“Was she cut in pieces?”
“No.”
“Was she in a garbage bag?”
“No, it appears she was wrapped in a sheet.”
Ellie nodded. “I didn’t want her to be in a garbage bag.”
Adriana pulled Ellie in for a hug and both started crying. When they parted, Ellie took Adriana’s hands in hers and said, “Daisies. Silver always loved daisies.”
Did the bouquet found near the site contain daisies? I made a mental note to check.
Adriana smiled and said, “Thank you.”
Ellie turned to me. “Silver was the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever known. Find the son of a bitch who killed her. Excuse my French, but what kind of an animal does something like this to a beautiful girl like my sister?”
“We’ll give it everything we have,” I said, at once feeling the words inadequate.
She gave a quick nod and went to join her family. When we heard car doors slam, I heard Adriana take a deep breath.
“You okay?” I asked.
“How can I be okay?”
“You will be . . . and I better get back to town. I have lots of work to do.”
Adriana followed me out. “Look,” I said, pointing to the spot where the cross had been placed.
She smiled thinly. “I hope it was Mrs. Dawson who took it. Cal, thanks for being here today. It meant a lot to me.”
“Sure.”
“By the way, Mother remarked you’re very professional.”
“Nice to hear Magna’s finally seeing the light.”