“Stop, that hurts,” the girl said, rolling over and peering up at Carolyn. “I thought I was supposed to stay in bed and rest.”
Carolyn held up the empty bottle. “Did you take all these pills?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I hurt like a bitch.”
“Get up, I have to take you to the hospital,” Carolyn told her, whipping back the covers.
“Chill out, will you?” Jude shouted. “I’m conscious. I’m not going to die. There were only fifteen pills. I took some during the night and a few more this morning. Do you have any idea how hard it is to kill yourself with painkillers? It would take ten bottles of Darvocette, maybe more. Before you died, you’d barf them up. I didn’t take any of the muscle relaxants. I know they can stop your heart if you take too many. Now, can we stop talking about dying? It reminds me of my mother. Not all my pain is physical.”
Carolyn took several deep breaths, then slowly let them out. The girl had a valid point. “Are you certain you’re all right?”
Jude winced as she shifted her position. “I’m alive, aren’t I? That’s good enough for me if it’s good enough for you.”
“Let’s come to an understanding,” Carolyn said, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ll treat you like an adult if you’ll act responsibly. I have to make a few phone calls. I’ll have Josephine bring in a pot of coffee. Drink it all. I don’t want you to sleep until the pills wear off. It’s either that, or a trip to the hospital.”
“Whatever,” Jude said, rolling over and covering her head with a pillow.
Carolyn called Brad from the phone in the bedroom, bringing him up to date on the situation with Jude. “Does Drew know she’s with you?”
“I hope not,” she said. “She made me promise not to tell him. I’m not certain if she’s afraid of him, or just mad because he made her move out and gave her room to the so-called nanny.”
“Jude may have witnessed the murder. Don’t come to the office today. Try to put together more information for the PD on Veronica’s cases. I’ve already assigned everything that came in yesterday. I split Veronica’s work between Linda Cartwright and Stuart Greenly. Our transfers—”
“My God, Greenly!” Carolyn said, cutting him off. “I confronted him just before I left the office last night. He vehemently denied having an affair with Veronica. Now that I think about it, innocent people don’t generally react the way he did.”
“Elaborate.”
“He threatened to turn in his resignation. He bad-mouthed Veronica, calling her a fat cow. He even said she was crazy, that she told him to fudge on his reports and just make stuff up.”
“Not a very nice way to speak about a coworker who was just murdered,” Brad said, “particularly since Greenly wants to be perceived as a cultured guy, with his preppy clothes and phony Boston accent. Someone told me he grew up in Malibu.”
“The accent!” Carolyn said, excited. “Remember, I thought the guy who attacked me had some kind of accent. Greenly was hopping mad, Brad. Maybe he’s our killer.”
“Hey, run it by the task force. Veronica might have thought it was more than a roll in the hay, and tried to force him to leave his wife. It would certainly be embarrassing if he was having an affair with her and the truth got out. How would it look for him to be cheating on his beautiful young wife with a woman Veronica’s age?”
“He’s got a problem with his ego, anyway,” Carolyn said, thinking they were onto something. “I heard he flunked the bar exam six times. Is that true?”
“I think so,” Brad said. “I told you I’m not sure it was Greenly in the car with Veronica. If you want my opinion, the biggest lead you’re going to find is in your guest room. When Wheeler was considering my replacement, I told him if the devil got himself arrested, Carolyn Sullivan could get him to confess. Don’t tell me you can’t get inside the head of one little girl. Get back on the horse and bring this baby home.”
“You’re underestimating Jude,” Carolyn countered. “I know because I did the same thing. She hasn’t been a teenager for years, Brad. She’s already had two abortions. She’s a woman in every sense of the word.”
“So?” he said. “What difference does that make?”
“Most of my success stories involved men. Females are far more devious. Besides, I’m emotionally involved.”
“That gives you even more of a reason. Can’t you do for Veronica what you’ve done for strangers?”
She carried the portable phone to the doorway and stared down the hall. There was something about Jude that frightened her. It took an enormous amount of willpower to protect someone who’d beaten you. “Let me go, Brad, so I can figure out how to break through to her.”
Carolyn opened the French doors in the master bedroom and stepped outside to the enclosed atrium. There was a bubbling fountain in one corner, and the walls were covered with climbing roses in exquisite colors. Sitting down in a green padded lounge chair, she tried to enjoy her coffee while she formulated her strategy. Before she could get Jude to talk, she had to understand her.
Was she afraid the batterer would kill her if she reported him? That meant she’d lost confidence in the police and authority figures. Had she committed a crime and was fearful of being found out? Maybe one or both of her pregnancies had been the result of a rape? If so, had her parents blamed her and hushed it up to save face in the community?
When Carolyn had talked a offender in custody for a minor offense into confessing to murdering his wife in another state, she’d appealed to his ego. Discounting the obvious consequences, the average murderer wasn’t callous enough to boast about killing someone. The offender she’d got to confess had been a sociopath, a person with no remorse and no respect for human life. She doubted if Jude had anything worth bragging about, even if she had committed a number of crimes, and she felt fairly certain that she wasn’t a sociopath. If she was, everyone around her was in jeopardy.
The most likely scenario was the one she’d mentioned to Mary, that Jude was suffering from battered woman syndrome. Victims endured abuse because they knew it led to a period called the “loving reunion,” where the batterer swore undying love, showered them with gifts, and promised never to hurt them again. The victim was empowered because she held the key to the batterer’s freedom. Some victims craved the “loving reunion” so much, they purposely incited the batterer. It was a perplexing and vicious cycle, many times ending in death, and not always the death of the victim.
Carolyn thought of another possibility where physical abuse went unreported—prostitution. From what Drew had told her, Jude had disappeared for days at a time. She’d also known her parents were about to evict her. Could she have been selling sex for money?
Carolyn went inside and dressed in a pair of jeans and a lightweight blue sweater.
No matter what the temperature was outside, it always seemed cold inside Marcus’s house. Houses this big and well insulated were always chilly.
Padding barefoot on the hardwood floors, she opened the door to the guest room and found Jude propped up in bed, drinking coffee and watching television. Josephine had brought her an insulated coffeepot on a tray.
“Guess I’m gonna make it.” Jude smirked. “Can’t follow the doctor’s orders and stay in bed, not when I have to pee every five minutes from all this god-awful coffee.”
Carolyn stretched out beside her. A commercial for Lucky Charms was on. “What are you watching?”
“Toons. There’s no such thing as grown-up TV at our place. Since I’m homeless now, I guess I can kiss TV good-bye.”
“Why didn’t you tell your parents you were going to school?”
Her eyes drifted over to Carolyn, but she didn’t answer.
“The school said you were doing well in your classes, that by midterm, you should be able to get your diploma. It doesn’t make sense that you didn’t tell your mother and father. I’m sure they would have given you their full support if they’d known what you were trying to accomplish.”
; “You don’t know shit,” Jude snapped, getting up and walking toward the bathroom.
She was wearing the same black T-shirt, but her jeans were draped over the chair, and all she had on were a pair of white cotton panties that appeared to be several sizes too large. The bruises looked even worse than they had the night before. After ten minutes had passed, Carolyn went to the door to the bathroom and found it locked.
She carried the tray back to the kitchen, stared at the clock until another ten minutes had passed, then returned and pounded on the bathroom door. “What are you doing in there?” she asked. “I can’t let you hurt yourself, Jude. If you don’t come out, I’m going have to get someone to break down the door.”
The girl flung the door open, glaring at her. “I was taking a crap,” she said. “Are you always this hysterical? Jesus, I should have let them put me in the nuthouse.”
Carolyn knew it was time to change her tactics. Trying to befriend her wasn’t going to work. “I’m going to call your father,” she said. “I’m responsible if something happens to you.”
Jude’s defiant attitude disappeared. She locked her fingers around Carolyn’s arm. “You promised me,” she cried. “I’ll leave, okay? I’m not going back there with my dad. I’d rather sleep in the gutter.””
Pain shot up Carolyn’s injured arm. Like Josephine, Jude was stronger than she looked. At least she had an excuse for the bruises now.
Jude released her, and wiggled into her jeans, then searched under the bed for her shoes. “I should have known you’d go back on your word,” she told her, sitting in the chair as she put on her dirty socks and laced her worn-out tennis shoes. “Everything you said to me last night was bullshit.”
Carolyn blocked the doorway. “You’re injured. For all I know, you’re suicidal. I can’t allow you to leave. When your father gets here, we’ll decide what to do. Tell him you’ve been going to school, and I’m sure he’ll let you move back home.”
Jude’s eyes flashed in fury. “You think my asshole father’s going to take care of me?” she shouted. “Who do you think did this to me? He’s been forcing me to have sex with him since I was eight.”
Carolyn’s mouth fell open. She remained silent as Jude paced around the room. She’d pushed her to get a reaction, but this was an explosion.
“You want to know who killed my mother?” Jude blurted out, picking up a paperweight and hurling it against the wall. “My father killed her.” Tears streamed down her face. “I was thirteen when the bastard got me pregnant the first time. You know why? Because he couldn’t get it up when he wore a condom. He told my mother I was a prostitute. I was too scared to tell her the truth. Then he knocked me up again when I was fifteen. I went back to school because I wanted to surprise my mother. I thought she might love me instead of thinking I was a slut and a baby killer. The only reason I didn’t graduate last year was because my dad was always making me ditch school. He couldn’t have sex with me when my mom and the kids were around.”
Jude flopped face first on the bed, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Carolyn went over to comfort her. She placed her hand on her back, but she slapped it away, craning her neck around. “You know why he wanted me out of the house, don’t you?”
Carolyn tried to maintain a calm demeanor. Inside, she felt like ripping Drew Campbell apart with her bare hands. “Because he was afraid someone would see your injuries?”
“No,” she said, sitting up and crushing the pillow to her stomach. “Things like that never bothered him. He tells everyone I hang out with gangsters who use me as a punching bag. One time he told Mom I was a masochist and liked people to hurt me. He had an excuse for everything.” She began rocking. “He wanted me out so he could replace me with someone else.”
“You mean Crystal?”
“He wouldn’t be interested in someone her age, unless he’d already had her, and could fantasize about when he fucked her as a kid.” She stopped rocking and stared out over the room. “Crystal’s got three younger sisters. Maybe he thought he could get to one of them. I think he hired her because she’s borderline retarded, and he knew she wouldn’t cause problems. You know so much, I thought you would have figured it out. Who did he move into his bedroom?”
“Stacy,” Carolyn said, her eyes enormous. “Good Lord, Jude, we have to get her out of that house immediately. Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
Carolyn dropped down in the chair, stunned by what she’d heard.“He moved Crystal into the house so it wouldn’t look suspicious for your sister to sleep in his room.”
“Probably,” Jude told her. “When I was there, I watched out for her. He starts slow, you know. He hugs you, kisses you, gives you presents, makes you feel special. He tells you not to tell anyone because the other kids will get jealous. By the time he starts touching you in places he shouldn’t, you don’t even notice. He distracts you by watching a movie with you, or he slips into your bed while you’re sleeping. Gradually he works up to the real stuff. You know, fucking you. Then the presents get bigger, more expensive. Why do you think my mom and dad had money problems? You know what’s pathetic? I don’t even have anything to show for all those years. No iPod, no TV, no fancy stereo. My mother wouldn’t even let me drive my car, and it’s a rusted-out tin can. I spent all the money he gave me on dope. I had to drug myself, or I would have ended up in a nuthouse.”
“I believe you,” Carolyn told her, several moments passing before she continued. “But you’ve made very serious accusations about your father. What makes you think he killed your mother? Were you there when it happened?”
“No, but my mom was getting suspicious,” Jude said, tossing the pillow aside. “I’ve wanted to tell her the truth for years, but she never seemed to have time for me. I even started dropping hints. My brothers and sisters make so much noise, I’m not even sure she heard me.” Jude’s eyes drifted downward. “When I didn’t come home, it was because he’d hit me. He told me to stay away until my bruises healed. When Mom started working at home, I thought it would stop. He didn’t seem as interested in me as he’d been before. Then I saw him touching Stacy.”
Carolyn knew Jude was suffering, both emotionally and physically. It was gut-wrenching to talk about something this horrendous, after years of keeping it locked inside. The most urgent thing at the moment was to find some way to comfort her. “I’m going to send Josephine to the drugstore to get the prescription for more pain pills. You have to promise me you’ll only take them once every six hours. Will you do that for me?”
Jude nodded. “I’m sorry. I was just hurting so bad last night. I feel better today. The night my mom died, I slept on the floor at the bus station. I was afraid if I came home, he’d kill me, too.”
Carolyn sat on the edge of the bed and embraced her. “I’m going to take care of you,” she told her. “No one knows you’re here except Mary Stevens, the police officer who came to the hospital last night. We have an armed guard watching the house. I’ll tell him what your father looks like, and he’ll call the police if he comes anywhere near the house.”
Jude’s eyes glazed over. She was retreating into her subconscious. She needed to be under the care of a physician as well as a psychiatrist. Incest was one of the most damaging of all sex offenses. What she’d been through would follow her the rest of her life. “Look at me, honey. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I was lying when I told you I was going to call your father. I had to find a way to get you to tell me the truth. I want you to rest now. I’m not going to leave the house, but I have to make some phone calls, and later today you’re going to have to tell Detective Stevens what you told me. Can you do that?”
Tears pooled in Jude’s eyes. “What if they don’t believe me?”
“They’re going to believe you,” Carolyn assured her. “You have to trust me. I know it must be hard for you to trust anyone. Your father’s going to jail. If I get started on this right away, he could be be
hind bars by tonight.”
“Who’ll take care of Stacy and the boys?”
“Either your aunt Emily or a foster family.” When Jude’s face fell, she added, “It’s only temporary, sweetheart. The main thing is to get them to a safe place.”
“What if he gets out?”
“I’ll do my best to make certain that doesn’t happen,” Carolyn said. “You can help me by telling the police the truth. They’re going to ask you a lot of questions. It’s not going to be pleasant. If I could keep you from having to go through this, I would. The more specific you are about the things that went on between you and your father, the longer his prison sentence will be.”
“Dad said I’m too old now that I’m eighteen, that the things that happened when I was younger won’t count because too much time has passed.” She began to panic. “This isn’t going to work. It’s my word against his. I’ve been in juvenile hall. Everyone’s going to think I’m lying. He’ll find me and kill me if I talk to the police. You can’t protect me forever. Rebecca will know I’m here. So will the man you live with.” Jude climbed off the bed. “I’ve got to leave town. All I need is to borrow some money. Once you tell the police, he’ll know I’m here. I’ll take care of myself. I always have. Just keep him away from my sister.”
“Stop!” Carolyn shouted. “If you run away, your father won’t be punished for what he did to you. He lied to you, Jude. There’s no problem with the statute of limitations, not on crimes of this nature. And what about your mother?”
“She’s already dead.”
“Didn’t you love her?”
Jude’s face shifted into hard lines. “Maybe my mother knew and didn’t do anything. She loved my father more than she loved me.”
“That’s not true,” Carolyn said. “Your mother would have made certain your father spent the rest of his life in prison. That’s probably why he killed her.”
“You really think so?” Jude asked, wiping her eyes with the edge of her T-shirt.
Revenge of Innocents Page 10