by Jaime Maddox
Ella didn’t kick off her pumps and rest her feet on the bed in her hotel room until after four. She’d had only two hours to rest and regroup before her six o’clock dinner, and the stuffy accountant and his wife she met at the posh Italian restaurant had nearly bored her into unconsciousness. She was grateful to be back in her room by eight.
Reflecting on the day as she showered, Ella thought it had gone well. She wasn’t counting on another gift from Dr. Joe—people often reconsidered such spontaneous offers. Yet she liked him, and she’d make a call to the prosthodontist in the morning. The accountant had been giving small annual gifts to the university, and after meeting him, Ella had no doubt it was simply a deduction for him, rather than a gift of gratitude or affection. That was okay, though. All donations were welcome.
Her soft, cotton pajamas felt wonderful after a day in a dress and pantyhose, and Ella pulled her iPad, her Kindle, and her phone into bed with her when she crashed a few minutes later. It was early, yet she was tired, and as she closed her eyes, she found her thoughts drifting. Not to work, or donors, but to Reese Ryan and her smile. Her easy laugh.
Their evening together had been one of the nicest nights Ella had ever spent, and Sunday dinner had been fun, too. They’d all worn Philadelphia Eagles jerseys to the dinner table, and the food was timed to end before kickoff. To Ella’s delight, they’d abandoned the mess in the kitchen and dining room until halftime, when she and Reese took charge of cleanup. After the game, they took Bijou for a walk, and when Ella could avoid it no longer, she hugged them all good night. All of them except Reese, who insisted on walking her across the yard.
On her back porch, as Bijou wound his way between their feet, they’d talked for another ten minutes before Ella finally forced herself through the door. She had to pack for an eight-day trip, and she hadn’t even started.
Ella stared at her phone. Reese was working the overnight shift in the ER. Would she be sleeping now, in preparation for a long night? Or would she already be up and about, getting ready for work? Would she welcome a call from Ella, or would it be a distraction? Ella hoped it was the former as she shot off a text.
Greetings from Connecticut. You awake?
Nope. Sound asleep. How about you?
Sleeping, too, but having a very nice dream.
Am I in it?
Ella paused for a moment, wondering just how flirtatious she should be. But she was two hundred miles away; how dangerous could a little flirting be?
As a matter of fact, you are.
Ella stared at the phone in her hand, awaiting a reply. She was startled when it rang, but not surprised it was Reese calling.
“Hi.”
“I’m tired of typing.”
“Already? We’ve only just begun to text.”
“We’ve already surpassed the total number of texts I’ve ever sent to any other human being.”
“I thought you had tons of friends.”
“I do, but I don’t text them.”
“How do you communicate?”
“We converse.”
“How novel.”
“Would you like to try it? I mean, it worked the other night.”
“Surprisingly well.”
“Surprising that you could talk on the phone…or that you could talk to me?”
Instead of a quick retort, Ella took a breath and paused. It was time to tell Reese what was going on, because she was feeling things she hadn’t in ages. Daydreaming, singing in the shower, imagining all kinds of Reese-related things. “I…this is kind of strange for me, Reese. I left Philly thinking I would never meet another interesting woman, especially in the mountains. And I was really fine with that. I have a wonderful career, right? Who needs a girlfriend? And then I met you, and ever since, I can’t stop thinking about you and wanting to see you again. And when I do see you, it’s even more amazing to be with you than I thought it would be. I don’t want to go when it’s time to go, and I don’t want to hang up the phone when I should. I just want to keep on talking…to you.”
Her confession was met with silence.
“Reese? Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you blushing?”
“Big-time.”
Ella laughed. “So I like you. Do you want to go on a real date with me when I get back?”
“I would love to.”
“When?”
“What time will you be home on Monday?”
Ella laughed. “Probably too late for a proper date, I’m afraid.”
“How about after Cass’s party? You’ll have the week to recover from your trip, and on Saturday, we can spend the evening together. The party will be over at four. Would you like to do something afterward?”
“It’s a date.”
“A date. Yes.”
“You’re blushing again, aren’t you?”
Reese felt herself nodding and realized she had to speak. Ella couldn’t see her through the phone. Then she thought of something. “Why don’t we FaceTime? Then you can see for yourself.”
Reese didn’t expect the silence that followed her question. “Ella? Are you blushing?”
“No, but I’m in my PJs, and I have wet hair.”
“Better I see this now, rather than later. This way, if I want to cancel the plans for next Saturday, I have ample time.”
“That’s very practical. Please let me know as soon as you’ve made your decision.”
“Is that a yes?”
Reese held her breath while Ella debated. Why did she care so much?
“Yes.”
A few seconds later, Ella’s face appeared on her iPad, and Reese was struck once again. Even with wet hair and no makeup, she was beautiful. “Hi.”
“You’re blushing,” Ella said.
“Obviously. And you’re beautiful. I’ve made my decision. The date is on.”
Ella smiled as she ran her hand through her hair. “Whatever will I wear? I mean, how can I possibly top this?” she asked, pointing to her pink pajama top.
“I bet you’ll think of something.”
“Tell me about the party. What should I wear to the pumpkin patch?”
“I just checked the forecast, and it’s going to be fifty-five and sunny, but there’s rain for the next few days, so it’ll be muddy. Wear old shoes, or boots, and something you can wash, because your clothes will smell like smoke from all the campfires.”
“Can you believe I’ve never been to a pumpkin patch before?”
“You haven’t lived.”
“I think you’re right. Who’s going to be there?”
“It’s a pretty fun group of people. Old school friends, mostly—people who’ve known Cass her whole life. The girls from the Labor Day cookout. And some of her friends, too, and some people from work. I called the RailRiders, and they’re going to send Champ and Quill.”
“Who are Champ and Quill?”
“The team mascots. They love Cass.”
Ella’s smile warmed Reese’s heart. “That’s so sweet.”
“I think she’ll have a great day.”
“You’re a good sister, Reese.”
Reese wished she could accept the compliment, but she couldn’t. Not when the Fates had dealt her such a great hand and had cheated Cass. What she did for her sister wasn’t nearly enough. It could never be.
When Ella yawned again, Reese decided she’d better say good night. Ella had an early meeting. “Can we do this again tomorrow?” she asked.
“Same time?”
“Perfect,” Reese said as she hung up her phone.
It amazed her how she and Ella had connected. Who would have thought she could find such an amazing woman dog-sitting for her parents’ neighbor?
Reese brushed her teeth, turned out the light, and relaxed on her bed for a half hour of meditation before she left for work. As much as Ella had distracted her, she couldn’t help thinking about her plans for the next day. It was the day of her interview with the district attorney�
��s office. Because of her friendship with Karen, someone else would be conducting her interview, but that didn’t matter. Reese would have been equally nervous answering questions from anyone in that office.
Pulling the pillow over her head, she sighed. Her life was going so well right now. She hoped she could finally put Steph to rest and relax a little.
Chapter 19: The Girlfriend Did It
Seven days later, Reese was curled up on her couch staring at the iPad, willing it to ring. She’d spent every evening FaceTiming with Ella and had looked so forward to it that she’d actually changed her schedule, switching a string of three evenings for overnight shifts, just so she’d be free when Ella was. That was crazy! Who did extra night shifts? Apparently, women who hummed did, and Reese found herself humming often.
They’d spent the week getting to know each other better, and she looked forward to hearing about Ella’s days, her donors, and her journey through New England. Reese loved to look at her when she talked, seeing the passion in her eyes when she was excited, and her job clearly had that effect on her. They talked about the mundane, too, and their conversations were so easy Reese felt like they were an old married couple.
Tonight, though, she had a big reason to talk to Ella. She had news about Steph’s murder. She’d been scheduled to go in to the DA’s office a week earlier, but before she could leave the ER that morning, she’d had a message telling her the interview had been canceled. Reese had called Karen but hadn’t been able to find out why. Karen’s only response was that the office was devoting all its resources to a lead that had developed and was suspending all interviews.
“Ring,” she instructed the iPad for the tenth time, but it didn’t listen. When it finally did ring, she quickly answered and noticed that Ella was once again wearing her jammies and sporting the wet look, as she often had during their week apart.
“How was your day?” she asked.
Ella spent a few minutes filling her in, and Reese listened attentively. It was sort of mundane, the details of a job few would have been interested in, but to Reese, it was as fascinating as surgery. It amazed her, that with all her education, she knew so very little about fund-raising.
“How was your day? Or should I ask how was your sleep? Or your last night?”
“Everything’s good. But I have big news. I found out what’s going on with Stephanie’s murder investigation.”
Ella was eager to hear more. When Reese told her that her interview had been canceled, she thought it might have something to do with Miles Jones and the information Pip had given the police, but she didn’t want to gossip without knowing any facts. Reese might just know more than she did at this point.
“My friend Karen and another woman from her office left for California on Thursday to interview a key witness. You’ll never guess who.”
California? It couldn’t be a coincidence. “Miles Jones?”
“What? How did you guess that?” she asked, sounding incredulous.
Ella laughed and told her about Pip’s experience in California and her suggestion that she talk to the DA’s office. “So how did it go? Are they going to arrest him?”
“I don’t know what’s going on. My friend Bucky, who’s running for DA, filled me in. Karen has been very quiet about this.”
“As she should be, I would say. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you about Miles. I should have realized how anxious you are to get this all over with. But I didn’t want to gossip about him. First of all, he’s your friend. And second of all, being creepy does not equate to being guilty. For all we know, he could have been in jail at the time of the murder and his scrapbook isn’t a souvenir at all, just some warped tribute to Steph.”
When Reese was silent, Ella spoke again. “Reese? Are you still there?”
Ella heard her sigh. “I’m here. I was just thinking that you’re right. You did the right thing. And as much as I’d like for them to find Steph’s murderer, I don’t want it to be Miles.”
“When will we know?”
“They probably talked to him on Friday. For all I know, they could be home by now. Or maybe they waited to get some court order to bring him back to Pennsylvania. Who knows? I don’t want to take advantage of my friendship with Karen by asking her what’s going on.”
“It sounds like she wouldn’t tell you anyway.”
Reese laughed and decided to change the subject. “So, when will you be home?”
“By lunchtime, I hope. I have a breakfast meeting, and then I’m on my way.”
“You’ll drive right past my house, but I’ll be sleeping.”
“And you need your sleep. Lives depend on you.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Reese’s call-waiting beeped and she looked at the phone. The interloper was Karen. “Ella, Karen is calling. Let me take this and get back to you.”
“Hi, pal. What’s up?”
Karen’s voice sounded strained. “Reese, I just got back from California, and I have to tell you, something strange is going on here.”
“With Miles Jones?”
“No. Miles was in Australia when Steph was murdered. He just has some odd fantasy about dead girls. Really weird. What’s odd is I’ve been taken off the Stephanie Gates murder investigation. Wanna know why?”
Reese had a sinking feeling, and she grasped the phone tighter in her hand as she waited for Karen to answer.
“Because of my relationship with you.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
Reese didn’t know what to say. Which hat was Karen wearing at the moment, friend or prosecutor? She decided to ask.
“I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t your friend. I want you to have a heads-up. Someone from the DA’s office will be at the hospital in the morning to talk to you. They’re going to wait until the end of your shift, when you’re tired, so you’ll be more likely to say something stupid.”
“Should I get a lawyer?”
“It’s never a bad idea.”
“Thank you for telling me, Karen. I owe you one.”
Reese hung up the phone and pursed her lips in thought. Rather than the terror she suspected she should feel, she was curious. What was this about? Why her? Why now? They had to know she and Steph had been lovers. But how? They’d been deep in the closet then, hadn’t even known anyone else who was gay. She’d never told a soul, and she was certain Steph hadn’t either. Steph had dozens of friends, but no one she was close enough to that she’d share that sort of confidence with. And back then, this was top-secret information.
No. No one could know the truth.
Why take Karen off the case, then? What else would make the DA’s office suspicious of her? She had an alibi, even if a woman with an intellectual disability provided it, and absolutely no motive. The only reason anyone would ever think she’d harm Steph was if they were involved in a lovers’ quarrel.
If they asked her that question, what would she say? Should she be honest, tell the DA the truth, out Steph to her mom, and put herself under further scrutiny? Or should she lie? How would they ever know, either way? The only witness, the only one who could verify her statement to the DA, was dead.
Her phone beeped with a text. It was from Ella.
What’s up? Are they going to arrest Miles?
No. He was out of the country when Steph was killed. I’m going in tomorrow to give my statement. Have a safe drive, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.
K. Night.
It was the longest night shift she’d ever spent, and she tried to act surprised when the investigator from the DA’s office showed up in the ER fifteen minutes before the end of her shift.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes. Just some routine questions. The DA would like you come down to the courthouse so he can talk to you.”
Reese eyed him suspiciously. He was freshly shaved, his short hair was slicked back, and he was d
ressed impeccably, with a tailored suit and shiny loafers. He didn’t look like he worked in public service.
“Now? I’ve been up all night, and I have to work again tonight. I need to sleep.” She knew this was inevitable, but she knew she’d betray Karen if she didn’t act somewhat surprised at the invitation. Or was it a command?
“This won’t take long.”
“Okay,” she said. “I need to finish up here.”
Reese purposefully delayed her departure, completing all her charts and making the smug-looking man in the suit wait. In the staff lounge, she brushed her teeth and her hair and washed her face before changing into jeans and a sweater. Only then, forty-five minutes after her shift ended, she followed him out of the parking lot and to the courthouse, where he ushered her through a back door and down a few corridors and into the office of the district attorney. Before the investigator left her, Ella pointed to her watch. “I have a busy night shift ahead of me. Please remind the DA of your promise not to keep me here long.”
He nodded, and within five minutes, Ella was ushered into a conference room. The Lackawanna County District Attorney, Andrew Miller, was waiting for her.
He didn’t stand to greet her but told her to have a seat. “I understand you’re in a hurry, Dr. Ryan. Thanks for coming down today. As you know, my office is investigating the homicide of Stephanie Gates. We are interviewing every single person we talked to in 1993 and trying to follow whatever leads develop as a result of those interviews.”
Reese looked him in the eye but didn’t speak. She wondered if he could see the pulse pounding in her throat. It should be visible from New Jersey.
“I have here the statement you made back then. I’m going to ask you the very same questions, and I’d like you to answer them as honestly as possible. If you don’t remember or don’t know how to answer, please state that, rather than guessing.”