Mitigating Circumstances

by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

  “This is so cool,” Shana said, grabbing the phone from her mother. “Can I call someone?”

  “Later,” Lily said. “But at least you can reach me now no matter where I am. You really want to live with me?”

  “Yes, yes. How many times do I have to tell you?” She leaned across the seat and kissed Lily on the cheek. “It’s gonna be perfect, Mom. That creep who raped us is going to prison and we’re gonna be happy. See, I made up my mind about that this morning. I’m going to be happy. No matter what happened. We’re alive—he didn’t kill us. And you’re going to be happy again too.”

  The first house was overgrown with weeds and smelled like mildew. The paint was peeling and the kitchen was a disaster. As they walked to their car, they both put their fingers on their noses. “What was that smell?” Shana asked. “It smelled like someone forgot to flush the toilet or something.” They laughed and Shana draped her arm over Lily’s shoulder.

  The second house was perfect. It was small but adequate, and there was even a tiny study off the living room. An older adobe, with brown tile floors and two bedrooms located at opposite ends of the house, each with their own baths, it had a wooden hot tub in the backyard and a lovely patio, lush with plants. On the wall by the front door was a panel for an alarm system. As Lily spoke with the realtor, Shana ran her fingers over the black box with the blinking red dots. Here they would be safe, she thought. There weren’t going to be any more tears or fighting or nightmares.

  “I love it,” Shana said enthusiastically, looking at her mother. “Let’s take it. Just think, Mom, the whole yard is grass, not half dirt. And the hot tub is great.”

  “We can’t make a decision today,” Lily informed the realtor. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I check a few things out.”

  Outside, Shana pushed her to go back in and tell the woman that they would take it. She wanted to move in today, start her new life today, this very minute. That was one of the problems with adults. They always made everything so complex when everything was so easy.

  “That just wouldn’t be right, Shana. We have to talk it all over with your dad. There are plenty of houses around to rent.”

  “I’ve talked to Dad about it.”

  “Well, why don’t you let me talk to him tonight?”

  “He can’t say no,” she said, her mood deflating. “I’m almost fourteen, and when Sally’s parents got divorced, the judge let her pick who she wanted to live with.”

  “We don’t want that…to go to court. Just let me handle it. I want us all to stay close—for your sake.”

  “No,” Shana said flatly, “don’t say for my sake, Mom. This is for our sake, yours and mine.” A cloud passed over her face. She could hear the arguing and fighting, her father’s protests. Thoughts of the newspaper article she had seen and the morning after the rape flooded her mind. Had her mother done something terrible to this man, thinking he was the one who had raped them? Was this what she saw in her face, heard in her voice? She sat up stiffly and faced her mother. “From now on, everything we do, we do for us. Got it? We’re a team. We went through this together and we’re going to get over this together. I love Dad and I’m going to spend time with him, but he’s not going to come between us anymore.” Lily was looking straight ahead at the road. “Look at me, Mom. Promise me you won’t let him talk you out of this.”

  “I’ll do the best I can,” Lily replied.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, “that’s not good enough. Promise me you’re not going to take any more pills and you’re not going to treat me like a baby. I’m gonna help you and you’re gonna help me. I’m gonna tell you everything and you’re gonna tell me everything. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. Then everything’s going to be perfect.” Shana leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to wander. They would pack all of their things and move to the new house. All the bad things they would leave behind. If her mother had done something wrong and anything happened because of it, they’d have to punish her too. Whatever her mother had done, she had done for her, and no one was going to ever hurt her mother again.

  CHAPTER 38

  Then they got home, John was watching television on the sofa, his cigarette smoke swirling to the ceiling. Shana glanced at him and then scurried off in the direction of her room, her little dog right behind her, jumping and touching its pink nose to the tips of her fingers. Walking past Lily, she leaned close, whispering in her ear, “Do it now. Don’t wait.”

  The second she left the room, Lily’s shoulders fell and she stared at John through the opening from the bar to the den, pressing her body against the kitchen counter. She swallowed, feeling a strange sensation in her mouth similar to hunger but not hunger, and when she reached for a glass, her fingers shook and the trembling spread throughout her body. She needed a Valium. Her body was screaming to be fed the chemicals she had poured into it, and there was nothing she could do to satisfy its demand. Flinging open cabinets, she searched for anything, knocking over bottles of cough syrup and cold pills and vitamins that she never took.

  “What’s going on?” John said, glancing at Lily and then back at the television.

  She stood in the middle of the kitchen, in the stark overhead light. Half the cabinet doors still stood open. “Give me a cigarette.”

  He stood, hiking up his polyester pants, and padded into the kitchen, shoving a pack of cigarettes across the brown tile. On his feet were large, furry bedroom slippers, and when Lily saw them, she started laughing. He looked like a dwarf. They were supposed to be some type of animal—an elephant or something. She bent over and placed her hand on her stomach, her body still heaving, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Where did you get those?” she said, pointing at his feet and once again doubling over with laughter. John glared at her. “Did your girlfriend give you…did she give you…those…?”

  His eyes narrowed with annoyance and he turned to walk away. “No,” Lily said, sticking the cigarette in her mouth, stifling her laughter. “Give me a light.”

  “When did you start smoking?” he said, watching her draw on the cigarette, the smoke coming out in one big cloud that she fanned with her hands.

  “When you started wearing elephants, that’s when,” Lily said, about to explode again but quickly checking herself. Her head was spinning from the cigarette. She tried to put it out in the ashtray, but it broke in half and continued burning. “Shana wants to move in with me. She said she discussed it with you.” He started to say something, but Lily raised her hand to protest. “Before you get all excited, let me tell you what I’ve been thinking. We can rent this house for about what it costs us each month. That way we’ll still have the tax writeoff, and neither of us will be saddled with the payment. Shana can complete this year at school, and I’ll drive her or you’ll drive her when she stays with you, and then start her new school next year.”

  His face was stern and he snapped, “I forbid it. You work late and she’ll be alone. I forbid it. You’ve always been a shitty mother anyway.”

  Lily felt her temper rising but forced herself to take a few deep breaths and try to let the last comment roll off her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t said the same thing to her a dozen times. If she had to kiss his ass, she was prepared to do it. Besides, she thought, looking at his feet, he was too absurd to be a threat. Why had she never seen it? Why had she ever let him upset her, make her angry? He was a joke, a cartoon. She could gobble him up in one bite.

  “I appreciate how you feel and I know how close you are to Shana. You have my assurance that I will be home on time every night. I have only one case to try and then it’s strictly supervision. What I can’t do at the office, I’ll do at home.” She leaned back against the counter and searched his face. His brows were still drawn and his mouth a thin slit.

  “You’re trying to use the rape and the fact that Shana identifies with you now to steal her away from me.”

  “You
’re so wrong, John. Not only that, but you’re being unfair to your own daughter. You’re not going to lose her. She loves you. She’ll probably spend as much time with you as she does with me.”

  Lily paused, staring at him, waiting.

  He ran his hands through his hair and met Lily’s gaze. “I guess if this is what Shana wants and it will help her to put things behind her, then…”

  “Oh, John,” Lily said, moving closer to him, reaching out to touch him and then placing her hand over her mouth. Relief flooded her body, a wave of tenderness touched her, and for just that moment she wanted to hold him and thank him, wished that they could love each other again. “I want you to be happy too. I don’t want to close the door on our relationship as friends or parents.” She saw tears forming in his eyes and fought back her own tears. “If we stay in this house together, the way things are now, then we’re going to end up really hating each other. I don’t want that.”

  He reached out and put a finger on her lips, like a kiss. Then he got up and left the house without saying another word.

  Lily couldn’t sleep. At three in the morning, she went to the kitchen and searched for a bottle of wine, anything to put her to sleep. There in the dark, on the sofa, John was awake and smoking.

  “I don’t mind if you sleep in the bed,” she told him impulsively. “I can’t sleep.”

  “Well, I guess you’re going to have to learn to deal with it. Right?” he said softly. “And I’m going to have to learn to deal with it too.”

  Back in the bedroom, Lily closed the door behind her and leaned against it, bringing the bottle of wine to her lips and, afterward, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She surveyed the room, searching the dark corners and shadows. The only eyewitness was dead. Now both the brothers were dead. Tomorrow she would meet Cunningham face to face. Tomorrow, she thought with a degree of relief, would be either the beginning or the end. Either way, she knew she was ready. She’d been in the tunnel too long.

  CHAPTER 39

  Cunningham was standing naked on the bathroom scale, watching the needle quiver around the 225-pound mark. He tried moving his feet around and the needle dropped slightly. Sharon opened the door to the bathroom and snatched the bath towel from his neck as she dropped her pants and seated herself on the commode. “I’m an old pro at this stuff, remember,” she said.

  Without the towel, and with more foot shuffling, the needle fell to just under 223 pounds and Cunningham sighed with relief. If he passed the 225-pound mark, even at six-four, he would be in trouble at the next department physical.

  “What are you doing up this time of the day anyway?” she asked, standing and flushing the toilet.

  He threw his large arms around her and lifted her a few inches off the ground, then sat her down with a thud. “You’re taking a big chance right now, lady. I’m feeling pretty good this morning. I might drag you to bed and have my way with you.”

  “Yeah,” she said, undaunted. “Put your money where your mouth is.”

  “You’re nothing but a brazen hussy, you know that?”

  He turned around and smeared shaving cream on his face as Sharon left to drive the kids to school. He wondered if Lily Forrester drove her daughter to school, wondered if she was driving her in her red Honda right this minute.

  He took out his best brown jacket and sniffed the armpits. He hadn’t had it cleaned in a long time and it had a slight odor. He went to the bathroom and got the bottle of cologne the kids had given him for Father’s Day. The name on the bottle read Hero. Not exactly a designer cologne, he thought, spraying it on the fabric of the jacket, but the name was a real winner. It was a set. He had Hero deodorant, Hero shampoo, and Hero after-shave.

  Driving to the crime lab, Cunningham had all the windows in the car rolled down, and the air was fresh and clean, morning fresh. The exhaust fumes and smog hadn’t settled in yet, and it reminded him of a spring morning in Omaha. Feeling a tingle of excitement in his stomach as he exited the car and took the steps to the crime lab two at a time, he knew he was still addicted to the job. It was the thrill of the chase, the constant surprises, the satisfied feeling he got when he closed a case and put it to bed.

  Inside the lab, he ranted and raved, his booming voice bouncing off the walls and echoing in the tiled room. At ten-thirty, he finally had the report on the seat next to him and was weaving through traffic to the government center complex. He was standing in the lobby of the district attorney’s office at ten-forty, twenty minutes early, just as he’d planned. He flipped his shield and flashed it at the receptionist.

  “Who are you waiting to see?” the girl asked him. “I’ll check if they’re available.”

  “Why don’t you just hit that little buzzer with your finger, honey, and leave the rest to me?” He stuck his head through the small opening. “Now,” he said. The girl jumped and hit the buzzer.

  He ambled down the long hall past the row of clerks and secretaries until he was standing outside Lily’s door. He remained outside the glass watching her. Her head was down and she was writing. He couldn’t see her face. Finally he moved in the doorway and cleared his throat. She jerked and looked up, dropping her pen on the desk, looking quickly at her watch. There was no doubt that she’d been waiting for him. This was what he had planned: to surprise her, confront her, to watch her squirm.

  “Bruce,” she said, swallowing, trying to control her nervousness at confronting the big detective. “You’re early. I didn’t recognize you at first. I think I’m losing my eyesight with all this damn paperwork.”

  He stepped inside the office and patted his gut. His jacket was open because it was too small and when buttoned, it pulled. “Put on a few pounds probably,” he said and strolled to her desk, slapping a stapled stack of papers down. “Here’s your report.”

  She looked up excitedly. “On the weapon?” she asked. “I thought you said noon.”

  “I went by and put the squeeze on them,” he said but didn’t break the news. Lily started thumbing through the pages of the report and then tossed it on the desk.

  “Look, I don’t have a lot of time.” She couldn’t get her eyes to focus or her mind to remain still enough to read. All she could think about was the fact that he was standing here only a few feet away and staring at her face. “What’s the verdict? Is it the gun or isn’t it?”

  “Read it. You’ll see.” He leaned against the wall by her desk and smiled at her.

  She picked it up again and started flipping through the pages. Without the Valium she was tense and impatient. Just his presence was enough to make her feel like she was coming apart at the seams, and now he was playing silly games with her. She slapped the report down on the desk and glared at him. “Is it the fucking gun or not?”

  He pushed himself off the wall, annoyed. “It’s the gun.”

  “And…?” The suppressed fear was rapidly turning into anger. She couldn’t contain it. She felt cornered—trapped inside this small room with the very person who could destroy her.

  “Can I smoke in here?” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes.

  “No, it’s against the rules,” she said, her heart pounding. He was too close. Her eyes tracked his every movement.

  “Oh, I see,” he said, replacing the pack and continuing to stare back at her, flicking his mustache with his fingers. He walked over to her desk and leaned over her shoulder, practically breathing down her neck.

  She could smell him, feel his warm breath on her neck. Her hands began trembling and she placed them in her lap, hoping he wouldn’t see. Any second, she thought, and I’m going to explode, tell him everything, put an end to this insanity. “Cunningham, will you sit down and tell me what I want to know? We don’t have all day here, you know.”

  He moved around to the front of her desk, but he continued to stand. “Well, it looks like we’ve got a positive match on the prints belonging to both Bobby and Manny Hernandez as well as Richard Navarro. The weapon was additionally fo
und to be the same weapon used on Carmen Lopez. So, I guess the answer to your question is it’s definitely the right fucking gun.” He smiled.

  She placed a hand on her chest and then looked up. “They were both involved. Jesus. And we have Navarro made as well.”

  “You still want me to talk to Nieves?” he asked, lighting a cigarette anyway and looking around for something to dump the ashes in. Seeing an old styrofoam cup with remnants of coffee in it, he walked over and flicked his ashes in it right in front of Lily. She was nervous, afraid. He could sense it. If he pushed a little harder, he thought, just a little harder…

  “Butler wants you to try to scare him. Get him to talk without promises. The only thing you can offer him is protective custody now and the chance to serve his time in a federal facility if he does talk.”

  As she spoke, her voice started to crack. Her face was pale and gaunt. Dark circles were visible under her eyes. He couldn’t keep his mind on the conversation. No matter how tough she talked or tried to appear, she looked fragile, delicate, vulnerable. She looked like a woman on the edge. There was a small sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. “My little sister has freckles just like yours,” he said without thinking.

  “Oh,” Lily replied, pausing, not raising her eyes. For that instant they were somewhere else, no more than two human beings. Then she cut her eyes to him. “Do you mind if we discuss your interview with Nieves instead of my freckles?”

  “Well, without anything to offer him, I think I’m wasting my time.”

  Lily suddenly lost her composure completely, standing up and smashing her fist on her desk, causing the coffee cup filled with his ashes to spill all over the carpet. “Wasting your time?” she yelled. “You’re wasting my fucking time right now. I want you to interview Nieves and that’s the end of it. I don’t give a shit what you offer him. He’s a damn murderer. There’s no free rides here.”