Ada Unraveled

by Barbara Sullivan

  Her little girl’s voice said, “I’m sorry, Rachel. My mother’s paranoid. What is it you want to ask?”

  I cut to the chase. “What is the blood disease your father suffers from, the one that has damaged his kidneys?”

  “Why?”

  Like mother like daughter? Paranoid?

  I said, “Comments I’ve heard for the past week about the Stowalls would indicate there is some inherited blood complication at play. Maybe knowing more about that will help me figure out the mystery in Ada’s life, the one some of you believe is captured in her quilt. And maybe the one that has contributed to her death.”

  Another pause later, “My dad doesn’t have a blood disorder. His kidneys failed because of a reaction to a medicine he was taking. He’s a diabetic. I don’t know what the Stowall’s blood disorder is, but it’s not that.”

  In the background this time I could hear Gloria’s indistinguishable accent warning her. The phone suddenly went dead. But at least now I knew the Stowalls indeed had a genetic blood disease of some sort.

  Thomas Beardsley called me back again later in the day, while I was cleaning the kitchen.

  “My sister works for you? In what capacity?”

  He’d caught me off guard. But I was fairly certain he wasn’t at work.

  “Researcher. She’s now officially covered under our PI license. So is Hannah Lilly.”

  “What?!” I pictured him mentally wiping the consternation off his face. He began again, more calmly.

  In the background I heard, “Tom, really….” It was Gerry. So he was back at her house.

  “Stay out of this, Gerry. Way out of this. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into here.” He was really upset.

  I said, “Look Tom, since you’re at your sister’s house, can you tell me what happened after I left last evening? And….”

  “Stop! Just stop.” He sounded exhausted. I gave him time to compose himself.

  “Look, Rachel, this is very dangerous. Things are….”

  I lost him again. But then he returned.

  “I’ve been on duty for thirty-six hours. I’m way past tired. But…what happened is that Chief Pike was called away by another emergency. Malvelli and Rotman took over at that point. Nothing was done in the backyard. Whatever is back there is still back there.”

  Oh, no.

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s been removed.”

  “No, they’ve been with me….” He stopped, sighed, started again. “Okay, you could be right. But these guys in the unit, they’re…you need to keep my sister as far away from this as possible. She doesn’t need this!”

  His shout caught my attention. I began to wonder if there was something else wrong. Something to do with Gerry’s life.

  In the background I heard Gerry arguing with her brother. He must have passed the phone to her.

  Gerry said, “I’m sorry Rachel, it’s…he’s really upset. Tom’s going home to sleep. He’s not able to think properly. Okay…he’s gone. Sit down.”

  I sat on the kitchen stool. “I’m sitting.”

  “Sheriff Pike is in trouble. He’s been struggling with these bad-actors in his department since he took over a couple years ago. Tom thinks he’ll be recalled if he isn’t careful. You know the Sheriff is elected?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, Warren Pike’s aware that Malvelli and his boys left without inspecting what you found and I’m sure he’ll take care of it. Meantime, I’m afraid for Tom. He could easily be demoted at this point, on some trumped-up insubordination charge. There has always been a rift between the guys who are related to the Stowalls and the ones that aren’t. No, that’s too simplistic, and of course, my brother and I…. It’s between the good guys and the bad guys, really. Not all Stowalls….”

  Her voice faded away. Came back.

  “Look, we’ll talk some more. I still want to be involved. I just may not be able to do so overtly. And my oldest children just came home from school, so I’m off to appear happy and loving and feed them milk and cookies. Talk to you later.”

  The next call was the real surprise. It was Sheriff Warren Pike, calling to speak with Matt. I had to tell him Matt was out on another case.

  “But maybe I can help you, sir.”

  His sigh carried his disappointment. I waited.

  “Okay. But I want you to understand, Ms. Lyons, I never talked to you.”

  “What is your name again?”

  “Exactly. I need your husband to show up at our inspection of the Stowall house tomorrow. Uninvited.”

  Whoa, Nelly. I thought fast.

  “I’m not sure he can, sir. I understand the job he’s on will take several days. But I can be there. I’m also a fully trained and licensed private investigator.”

  “Yes. You are. And you’ve testified in court, haven’t you. As a witness, when called to do so.”

  “Yes. I have.”

  Well, way back, two and a half years ago. My side lost the case. I tried again a few months later. That time my side won. A draw. A wash.

  “Okay, be at Luke Stowall’s residence around eight-thirty. The ME and their people will have finished their part of the investigation of the house and property, and my own detectives will have done their work by then as well. Then the property will be available for you to inspect…as employees of Mrs. Jake Stowall.”

  What about Luke, and Eddie. Would they be there? I wondered what on earth they had found to bring in the ME and a whole slew of others. I glanced at the television, wishing I had the news on.

  Or was this still being kept from the news?

  “Thank you, sir.” And then he told me Tom Beardsley would be heading up the effort in the early morning hours and he would be fully apprised of my attendance, and he was gone.

  So Sheriff Pike was marshalling support forces for a battle with the bad guys. I knew Matt would be upset that he couldn’t be involved.

  First I called Hannah to see if she could come with me, and she eagerly said yes. Peter, her husband, would be home tomorrow and she’d already gotten his acceptance of her working with us. She was about to fax off the signed contract.

  I cautioned her not to alert the press. She agreed.

  After hanging up with Hannah I worried about what to do with Gerry Patrone. Should I call her and involve her in this? And how would Tom handle it tomorrow if she came?

  My busy phone rang again. It was Gerry. Hannah had just called her and she wanted to know what she should wear.

  Well, that solved my dilemma.

  “Not those lovely leopard heels you wore to the hospital the other day. Maybe something flat and comfortable that you can stand around on for awhile.”

  “I don’t have problems standing in high heels.”

  She was kidding, of course. I think.

  Chapter 25: Eddie 7

  He’d finished his mother’s second diary. Mark was his father! Luke was his father’s murderer.

  Luke had come home with another woman and was upstairs with the filthy-mouthed cow now. It was wrong. He hurt them badly, beat them, raped them and made them scream. Then he killed them.

  It was wrong. Eddie stood looking at the top of his bureau. The gun. He wondered who had left if for him.

  It was loaded.

  He had a loaded gun and he knew how to use it. Because back when he was a boy his fa…Luke taught him how to shoot. Luke…who killed his father. Luke who beat and killed his mother. Uncle Luke.

  The screams and thumping noises began again. Loathsome. Luke had begun making howling noises as he beat the women. Not high pitched like a coyote, but deep and terrifying, a howl slipping in and out of a growl—like a wolf man. He was insane. It was official.

  And it was wrong. He should stop Luke. The noises made him feel angry. Made him feel dirty and corrupt.

  After Luke finished killing the woman, Eddie would need to dig another grave out back with him.

  And after that, like he was continuing some kind of sexual ritual, Luke w
ould beat him.

  Because he could.

  Because the beast needs to beat people.

  He should take the gun upstairs and stop him before he kills another woman. Or…Eddie could watch.

  But then he heard the woman tumble-running down the stairs, scream-sobbing all the way out the front door. She’d escaped. Maybe she’d go to the police.

  Maybe they wouldn’t believe her.

  Chapter 26: Quilt Clues

  Friday, October 10

  We hovered over Ada’s quilt like two hummingbirds with busy minds instead of busy wings. It was early, but our brains were as usual locked and loaded the minute we’d climbed out of bed.

  Matt spoke first. “I’m befuddled.”

  “It’s easy.”

  “Prove it.”

  I grinned. That remark was usually a preamble to sexual athletics. One of many secret codes we private private-eyes used. But there was no time this morning.

  “It’s easy,” I repeated. “Square one depicts Ada and Mark in full happiness before the fall from Eden. Square two depicts a battle between Luke and Mark, one that Mark obviously lost. Square three depicts a sadder—and possibly pregnant--Ada now standing around the apple tree with Luke. And…a snake, and…” I was stalling.

  “Square four is not Ada and Mark, nor Ada and Luke, or anyone we can yet identify,” Matt stated. “So square five contains four children we can’t yet identify either.”

  “Exactly.” I sighed.

  Actually, square four contained two figures around a tree full of snakes. Very disconcerting. A snake tree. With snakes wrapped around the feet of the two characters.

  Matt said, “Didn’t you tell me Jake and Victoria raised snakes?”

  “That’s not a nice thing to say. You haven’t even met them yet, honey.”

  “Very funny.”

  I moved on.

  “So, anyway, uh, square four could be Jake and Victoria…”

  “But, square five can’t be Victoria’s children because Jake and Victoria had seven children. This square only contains one boy…and only three girls. So…” His meandering petered out into the third long sigh of this discussion.

  I knew I was losing him so I quickly added, “But square six…square six… Ah hah!” He turned to look at me expectantly.

  “Square six is Ada! Look, not the same fabrics, but the same colors, browns, tans a little white. See? And the baby with her therefore must be Eddie.”

  Matt said, “Then why is she standing on an island?”

  I hadn’t a clue.

  And--why was there a snake on the island with this strangely quilted Madonna and Child?

  Matt answered his own question. “Maybe she ran away with Eddie, sometime in the early years of their marriage.”

  I said, “It would fit.”

  Then I told Matt about our speculations as to how and why Ada had suffered for so many years. Right under the noses of the Cleveland County legal authorities. And nothing was done to stop it.

  He frowned and shook his head, in disapproval, or disappointment.

  I added, “Before we woke up to the fact that our constitution meant to include all people as having free and equal rights—back in the beginning of the twentieth century--this country was going through a kind of mini dark ages, when it came to women and blacks. And worse, in the eyes of CCSD, she was weak. Law enforcement culture subtly denigrates weak women, much more than weak men.”

  “Part of me wants those bad guys up on the mountain called out for what they were--callous misogynists. Racists. Because a handful of them are still up there, fighting Sheriff Pike.”

  Matt sucked in air and turned away from the quilt, preparing to leave. He was a man of few words. Action was his style.

  “That’s the man’s job. You stay out of it. Don’t complicate his game, Rachel.”

  Our eyes met. He was right. I was climbing on my proverbial white horse. That was never a good thing. Horses were wild, hard to control.

  I nodded, by way of a salute.

  “I gotta go spy. Will’s waiting.”

  My Marine left.

  Not long after, I climbed in Matt’s truck and headed for Ada Stowall’s house. Where I would find a couple of city horses I wasn’t expecting.

  Chapter 27: Dreary Rooms

  When I arrived at Ada’s house, the first question I wanted to ask was about the stink hole I’d stepped in. Had a body been found? Was that why the house was being scoured for clues now? Because a second dead body was in the yard?

  But I couldn’t find Tom. And none of the others lingering around inside the crime scene tape looked like they were in charge.

  The deputy who greeted me was a functionary. All he wanted to discuss was procedures. That we needed to wear protective clothing, including booties, a neck tag authorizing our presence inside the crime scene, and latex gloves. And we needed to stay together, not touch anything or move anything, yada, yada.

  I was pleased they were doing it right, most of the men in the yard had on these same outfits, but why we were here was uppermost in my head, so I nodded obediently, took two extra sets and started looking for my partners.

  I spotted Hannah coming up the sidewalk from behind the small woods we’d parked next to on Wednesday. A day and a half ago. I met her half way.

  “Hey. What’s happening?” Hannah said.

  I shrugged and handed her a package of protective clothing.

  I said, “We have to wear these inside the house. So we’ll have to wait to don them until we’re on the front porch. We don’t want to be walking around in winter coats inside.”

  We slipped our neck tags on.

  Hannah scanned the road, and said, “You heard from Gerry?”

  “Just that she’s coming.” I looked back toward the house. “There she is.”

  Gerry was on the front porch, standing under a signature, animal-print umbrella. Apparently she had already been inside. I waved, and Hannah and I hustled back.

  We joined her on the front porch. She was already dressed in a white polyethylene outfit, complete with hood and booties. But it was over her winter clothes. And her booties were splashed with mud.

  I said, “Have you been inside?”

  Gerry said, “What? No, Tom had me go out in the backyard to help identify where we were when you stepped in it. I told him I thought it was out by the shed, but I had to take the team to the exact location before they could see it. Seems the searchers couldn’t locate it with their noses, or their eyes, because there’s been so much rain. Or…”

  She looked around surreptitiously.

  “…so they could defend themselves for waiting a day. I guess this whole part is about Ada, not our little discovery. Tom is very hush-hush, but clearly someone is focused on other things, like blame for not acting sooner.”

  She eyed us both, we nodded our understanding.

  Matt’s admonition times three—don’t rock boats, don’t rock boats, and don’t rock boats.

  Gerry grabbed the extra set of protective wear and tore off the stuff she was wearing, along with her coat, and put the new set over her black turtleneck and jeans. Put the booties on her cheetah-print sneakers.

  Hannah and I did the same then the three of us waited, still outside in the freezing cold, protected from the moisture only by a three-foot overhang.

  Hannah shivered and muttered, “I hate this waiting. I just want to get this over with.” Her grim expression let me know she was dreading the walk-through even more than the mountain mist, so I searched for small talk and found Ruth.

  “How’s your mom?” I asked.

  “She’s upset that I’m here.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Today? Nothing. I just know.”

  I looked at her. “We have to sit down and talk about you and your mom’s psychic abilities.”

  She didn’t grin. She didn’t say anything. She acted like I’d said nothing. Her dead-eyed stare out at the gray day made me look away.

>   Tom opened the front door from the inside.

  I got my fourth eye-warning for the day. It lasted just under fifteen minutes. Not really. But at least fifteen seconds.

  Felt like minutes. This one had to do with Gerry. I knew that because, after drilling me with his eyes, they slid to his sister and stayed there for almost as long.

  I focused on our prize. We had a house to scour for clues. I was itching to start. I pulled on my latex gloves and opened the screen door. As I passed by Tom, a whiff of something sinful made me think of donuts.

  Gerry was right behind me. “I notice you’ve eaten breakfast, Tom.”

  “Don’t start, sis. As far as I’m concerned you’re not here.” Gerry faked a pout and took a step to the side so Hannah could get out of the cold, too.

  Using a tight voice, Tom said, “Alright, listen up. We’ve been at it for three hours. The forensics team is done. You’ve pretty much got the second shot at it. You can even take your own pictures. But just so you know, mess up and you’ll be ‘barred for life from future crime scenes.’ God’s words, not mine.”

  I nodded at Tom. His warning focused us on proper protocol, the politics of this crime scene and not rocking the boat for the remainder of the examination.

  Maybe that’s why we missed the evidence laying in plain sight near the end of our search. That and the gruesome light show.

  My plans to educate my new assistants vanished as Gerry headed straight through to the kitchen. From the looks of it, she’d spotted someone there worth chatting up, an older gentleman I figured was a captain or better. This was my first reminder of her station in life .Learning forensic skills was not on her list. Networking with power people was.

  I began taking pictures of the Stowall domicile. I’d brought my most discrete camera just in case the powers-that-be changed their minds about letting us record the place. Hannah stayed by my side as Tom followed his sister, head down, like an angry bull.

  As I noted before, the house was in disrepair, even beyond the other homes in this rundown subdivision, which I had learned was called The Mountain Springs Community of Iguana. I snapped a picture of the scarred door surfaces, now covered with fingerprint powder. There were three locks on the interior door, one more than usual. The third one being a deadbolt operated by a key inside and out, presumably so that people couldn’t leave the house without the key.