“What about physical evidence?” T.J. asked.
“She had some bruises. When she wouldn’t do what he wanted, and demanded to be taken home, he slapped her around, held her down and forced himself on her. She had the presence of mind to bag the clothes she was wearing that night, and she took the bag with her when we went to the police station. They sent us to the hospital for an exam, although there wasn’t much left on her body, because she had taken many showers between that night and the time we reported it. I felt horrible that she was going through this, but I promised I would be there for her, and I’d protect her.”
“What happened after that?” I said.
“The D.A. felt they had enough to arrest him. They believed there would be enough DNA on her clothes for them to get a match, but more than that, this wasn’t the first time that Ethan had been accused of sexual assault. The other victims had gone to the police to file a complaint, but after that, they refused to cooperate. I talked to a friend of mine, whose father was a policeman back then. He said they believed Ethan’s father paid off the victims.”
“Why didn’t they pay off Jessica?”
“It wasn’t from lack of effort,” he replied. “She told me that there had been several calls from Ethan and his father, offering her a lot of money to keep quiet. She told them she didn’t want anything from them. She just wanted to be left alone. The police were excited, my friend told me. They felt they were finally going to nail Ethan.”
“I feel a ‘but’ coming,” T.J. said.
Jake nodded. “A few days later, Ethan was arrested. They pulled him out of class, slapped the cuffs on him in the hallway, and paraded him through the school and out the front door. His father was furious that his son had been so publicly humiliated.”
“Did he go to trial?” I watched him as I asked that, and his face turned red, his fists clinched.
“No, he never went to trial. He was never convicted.”
“Why not?”
“Because Jessica was dead three days after Ethan was arrested.”
Chapter 10
The next morning, T.J. went to the station to gather the information for Steve. I went to the café for breakfast, where I found Gladys holding court at her usual table. As soon as she saw me, she grabbed her purse, slapped a ten dollar bill on the table she took out of her wallet, and left. Most of the customers applauded as she left.
Maddie came out to see what was going on. “What did you do to her this time?”
I held up my hands. “Nothing, I swear. I didn’t even say ‘boo’ to her. She saw me walk in, and she left.
“You mean I’m going to have a quiet morning? I don’t have to listen to her complain about the coffee, the food, or how it’s too cold in here for her? Hallelujah! Your breakfast is on the house!”
I started to protest, but she hurried off before I could say anything. The mood in the café was certainly more cheerful with Gladys gone that’s for sure. I couldn’t help but wonder how welcome I would be here after news about the assault case became public.
After finishing my wonderful breakfast of eggs, bacon and pancakes, I stopped at the flower shop to pick up something for Angel, and then drove to the hospital. She was sitting in bed, nursing the baby, while Richard sat in a nearby chair, grinning from ear to ear and looking like a new father: proud, but very tired. “Lizzie,” he exclaimed, jumping up and come over to give me a hug. “Angel told me what you did for her the other day. How can I ever thank you for taking care of my girls?”
I handed him the pink roses I had brought. “I’m glad I was there. I’ve never seen anyone give birth before. It was amazing. Your wife is a strong woman.”
He looked at Angel and smiled. “Yes, she is. I agree.”
“How are you feeling?” I said, moving to the edge of the bed.
“Good. A little tired and sore, but overall, very good,” she smiled.
“And how’s the baby?”
“The doctor said she has a little jaundice, that’s why we’re still here. But we’re going home this afternoon.”
“She looks so sweet. Have you come up with a name yet?”
They looked at each other. “Yes, we have,” Richard said. “We’re going to name her Mary Elizabeth Ramirez, after her godmother, Elizabeth Crenshaw.”
I gasped. “Oh my goodness. I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Please say yes,” Angel replied.
“Of course I will. I’m honored. Thank you so much.”
“Would you like to hold her?”
“My wrist is a little sore today. I’m afraid I might drop her.”
“Richard, take the baby and place her in Lizzie’s arms. It might be easier for her to hold Mary Elizabeth that way so she doesn’t have to bend over and try to scoop her up.”
He took the baby from his wife, making cooing noises at her before he gently placed her in my arms. I touched her tiny hand with my finger, and she grabbed it. “She’s got a strong little grip, doesn’t she?”
“Richard says that means she’s going to be an outfielder or a basketball player,” Angel laughed. “If I don’t keep a close eye on him, he’ll turn her into a wide receiver or a running back.”
“She can be whatever she wants to be,” he replied.
“Daddy’s little girl already, I see,” I laughed.
“Richard, why don’t you take Mary Elizabeth back to the nursery?”
“That’s the signal for daddies and babies to leave the room because there’s going to be girl talk.” He took the baby back from me, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you again, Lizzie.”
“You’re welcome, Richard. Thank you for asking me to be her godmother.”
He nodded, blew his wife a kiss and left. “The police told me that those men got away. I figured you could tell me what happened to Geoff. Did he really get away?”
“He did.”
“Do you know how to get in touch with him? I wanted to thank him for helping me.”
“I have no clue,” I shook my head.
“I heard him say they needed money for a new ambulance, so they’re probably going to try and rob some other bank. Shouldn’t we say something?”
“They won’t try, I can guarantee that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they received a sizeable donation that will help them purchase a new ambulance.”
“Who did that?”
“All I know is it was an anonymous gift.”
“And what happened to your wrist?” she asked.
I was wearing a lightweight jacket, so she couldn’t see the bruises on my upper arms. “Oh you know, just my normal klutzy self. Nothing serious.” She seemed satisfied with my answers, but I knew there were other people that wouldn’t be so easy to appease. “Well, I better go. I wanted to stop by and make sure you two were doing all right. Let me know if there is anything you need.”
“We’re good. My mother and mother-in-law are getting things ready at the house. The boys are very anxious to see their little sister.”
“They’re going to love her.”
“Mom said they’re already arguing about who was going to hold her first.”
“Watch how fast they run when it comes time to change a diaper,” I told her.
“Their father is the same way,” Angel laughed.
I gave her a hug and said goodbye. Thirty minutes later, I was walking through the front door of the newspaper. As I made my way to Ellen’s desk, I noticed the newsroom seemed to be busier than usual. Three different reporters, Bruce included, brought me copies of stories they were working on. Ellen handed me a fourth story when I stopped at her desk. “Good grief, why is everyone suddenly so productive?” I said. “Normally, I have to beg them for this stuff.”
She shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea. Maybe somebody told someone that there was a changing of the guard coming, and heads were going to roll,” she replied, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“I never said that
,” I whispered.
“They don’t know that,” she whispered back.
“You are so bad, girl,” I said, laughing and shaking my head. “Do me a favor. Send out an email to everyone. We need to have a staff meeting to let them know what is going on. Let’s do it around 2 p.m.”
“Will do. By the way, the story I gave you is about sexual harassment and sexual assault.”
“Really?” I glanced down at the story on the top of the pile.
Ellen nodded. “There’s been a lot of it going on, and I don’t think that a lot of people in the community realize it.”
“What are you hoping to accomplish by writing this?”
She thought about for a moment. “I think there is a certain stigma associated with being a victim. When I was talking to some of the survivors, they told me that one of the questions they got a lot was ‘how could you let this happen?’, as if they had any type of control over it. Even those who fought back felt like they had to defend themselves again, this time from public scrutiny.”
I felt a knot in my stomach as she said this, and honestly wasn’t sure what to say. “Sounds like you have something good here. Let me read over it, and we’ll talk.”
“Thanks, Lizzie.”
Smiling and nodding, I walked away as I started reading her story. She had talked to several people, included statistics, from local, state and national sources. Apparently, she had been working on this for a while. What I was reading was quite bone chilling.
I walked into my office, dropped my bag in one of the chairs, and flipped to the second page as I walked around the desk. Sitting down in my chair, I realized it felt lumpy. “You want to get off my lap?”
Screaming, I jumped, threw the papers in the air and spun around. “Dale! What are you doing in my chair?” I said as I put my hand on my chest. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure it was going to jump right out.
“I came in to write the farewell address to the town that Jake said you wanted. As I wrote it, I started thinking about all the things I’ve been through over the years. Thought I was tearing up, so I turned around so no one could see me.”
“I’m sorry you are having a hard time writing it,” I replied, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sixty-two-years old, Lizzie. All I’ve done the past forty years is work for newspapers. I’m ready for something else in my life.”
“Why don’t you help me work on this week’s editions one last time?”
We spent the next few hours going over the stories, layouts and ads. He ordered food from the café, and we ate in the office. Just as we were finishing up, Jake came into the office. He was so focused on me he didn’t notice Dale at first. “I thought you’d want to hear this from me. They just served the TRO on Winthrop.”
“You mean Ethan Winthrop?” Dale said. Jake’s eyes grew wide as he turned his head. “Why did you file a TRO on him?”
Jake quickly closed the office door. “Keep your voice down. This isn’t something we want to get out everywhere.”
“We?” Dale said, his eyes darting back and forth between us. “Spill it.”
Jake looked at me, and I shrugged. “Too late now.”
He gave me an apologetic look before telling Dale what was going on. Various emotions flashed across Dale’s face as Jake mentioned the attack in the office, and I started feeling very uncomfortable being closed up in here. My instincts were telling me to get the heck out of there, but I forced myself to stay. “Are you going to write this up?”
“No. I don’t want to be the focus of a story.”
“Telling your story might help someone else, Lizzie,” Dale pointed out.
“Why is everyone trying to force me to talk about this?” I said angrily. “This is my story to tell, if I want to tell it, which right now I don’t. I would really appreciate it if everyone would just back off.”
“I didn’t say you had to do it right now,” Dale said defensively, “but it’s something to consider at some point, whenever you are ready.”
Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. “Right now, we need to go out there and tell everyone what is going on.” I marched over to the door, opened it and walked out. I heard them whispering behind me as they followed me out of the office, so I shot them a look over my shoulder. They stopped talking.
Dale did most of the talking, explaining that he had sold the paper to Jake and I. Gasps came from all over the room as he went on to say how much he had enjoyed working with them, appreciated all the hard work they had done for him over the years, and that he was going to miss them. There was a round of applause as he finished talking.
“I don’t have any plans to change anything right now,” I said. “We’ll be looking at different ways to bring the paper into the 21st century, perhaps expanding our coverage to include more of the smaller communities in the area. We’re also thinking of branching out more online, so we’re going to be looking for a webmaster to handle that. If any of you have confidence in your abilities, as well as a degree or experience to back up that confidence, we’ll be glad to consider you for the position. Do you have anything you want to add, Jake?” He shook his head. “All right then, let’s get back to work.”
The front door opened, and a bouquet of flowers preceded Nicole into the newsroom. She stopped in front of me. “You’re getting to be a regular customer, Lizzie,” she said, handing me the clipboard. I handed it over to Jake, who signed it and gave it back to Nicole. “You must have a very wealthy secret admirer. How does T.J. feel about that?”
“He doesn’t have a jealous bone in his body,” I assured her.
“You’re a lucky woman.”
As she left, I pulled the card out and read it. “Better luck next time. Ethan.” I gave the card to Jake. “What does that mean?”
T.J. and Steve came through the front door as I asked that. The looks on their faces told me they did not have good news. “We need to talk in your office.”
Frankly, I didn’t want to go back in there, not after listening to Jake recount the details to Dale. “Let’s go outside,” I replied.
The five of us – myself, T.J., Steve, Dale and Jake – trooped outside and stood on the right side of the building near the parking lot. “I honestly don’t know how to tell you this, Lizzie,” Steve said.
“Tell me what?”
“Winthrop’s lawyer has friends in high and low places. He drove down here, talked to a couple of people, made a few calls, and got the TRO cancelled.”
“What do you mean, he got it cancelled?”
“The clerk called to tell me. It was thrown out because of lack of evidence.”
“Lack of evidence?” I snapped. “How much more evidence do they need? My dead body?”
“Lizzie,” T.J. said, trying to wrap his arm around my waist. I stepped away from him, and he let his arm drop.
“His lawyer called another judge, who listened to the recording. She said that Winthrop clearly requested that you stop recording, and therefore you violated his right to privacy by refusing to stop it.”
“How could I? He had me pinned to the wall,” I retorted as I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I angrily wiped it away. “So what you’re saying is I’m basically screwed.”
“I didn’t say that,” Steve hastily replied. “But we’re going to have to come up with more proof.”
“Forget it,” I said. “Just let it go.”
“You can’t do that, Lizzie,” Jake said.
“Yes, I can, and I am. It’s easy for you to say ‘don’t quit’. You’re not the one who has to deal with telling the story over and over. No wonder so many women don’t report the harassment and the assaults. Who wants to keep living it over and over? I certainly don’t.”
“If you give up, then he wins,” T.J. said. “What about the next woman he goes after?”
“Don’t lay that on me, Thomas Jefferson Roosevelt. Don’t you dare lay that guilt trip on me. I’m responsible for one person, and that’s myself. And eve
n that is too much to handle right now. If he wants to win so bad, let him. If you want to fight him, go right ahead. Leave me out of it. I’m done.” I turned and walked back into the building. The flowers were on the desk when I went into the office. I stared at them for a minute, awkwardly picked them up and threw them at the wall. The sound of shattering glass echoed off the walls. I shoved a bunch of papers into my bag and left.
Chapter 11
Despite what I said, Jake and Steve began digging deeper into Ethan’s past. Jake believed that there was an obvious pattern of established behavior, starting with Jessica back in high school. If they found anything, they were wisely not sharing it with me.
Things were a little strained between T.J. and I for a couple of days. After shattering the vase of flowers against the wall, I had gone home and stayed there. All of my work was being done from home. He had come over that first night, but I had refused to answer the door, not even for pecan pie from Maddie. He had wisely put the pie, along with dinner, in a bag on the porch and left.
I really wanted to call Trixie, but she was out of town on business, and I didn’t want to bother her. As for my mother, Amelia, I wasn’t sure where she was. After their honeymoon cruise, her new husband had whisked her away to England. I was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to come back.
Working from home made me realize that I didn’t have a decent office. I wandered around in the backyard, checking out the space I thought I might need to add a new room to my late grandmother’s house. Debra left me the money; I might as well put it to good use. Since Trixie was remodeling the Gentlemen’s Club, she would be able to recommend a reliable contractor when she came back.
Another thing I realized: there was no way I was going to be able to work in my office at the newspaper again. I’m not sure how I had managed to go back after that day, but standing there, listening to Jake tell Dale what happened made everything come back in full force. I saw it all: when he grabbed my wrist as he sat in the chair; trying to break free; being slammed and pinned to the wall…it played out in vibrant colors. I couldn’t go back there without having some kind of visceral reaction.
Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) Page 7