by Robin Caroll
“I followed her to Arkansas. I beg her to listen to me. He wanted to marry her, but she still not legal age in Arkansas at that time, so they wanted me to sign form to let her marry him. I refuse. She swear she never speak to me again. I still refused. I still think maybe she do as I ask and save her career. I beg her to reconsider Dimitri if she need love so bad, but she not consider anything but marrying her Lance and throwing away her dancing.”
Sophia didn’t even try to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. She let their hotness scorch her eyelids. The pain reminded her that she was alive, no thanks to her grandmother.
“I thought she give in, if I refuse to sign papers. Think maybe she will change her mind once I refuse again. She was turning her back on every sacrifice I had made for her. For her dancing. For her to be best ballerina ever.”
If it didn’t hurt so bad, Sophia would have ground her teeth. As it was, she was finding it hard to understand how her mother ever forgave Alena, but Mamochka had said they’d reconciled before she was born.
Then again, she’d told Sophia that Alena had died.
“I did not think she would track down her father and get him to sign the form.” Alena snorted again. “Stupid man. Signing just to get back at me for leaving him. He always hated Nina dancing.”
How could Alena be so cold? So cruel?
“My Nina marry Lance. I cried on her wedding day, when she came to tell me. She wanted me to be happy. Said we could be family. Lance said I could even live with them.” Alena’s English got more broken the faster she talked.
“But I refuse. I tell Nina there is still time. She can still be dancer. She can get rid of pregnancy and get marriage annulled.” Alena shook her head. “But she tell me no. Told me I would change my mind about my grandchild.”
Everything inside Sophia felt cold, as if it was the dead of winter instead the beginning of summer. This woman . . . her grandmother . . . was colder than the iciest of polar vortexes.
“But I could not forgive her. Every time I looked at my Nina with her fat belly, I can only see her throw the sacrifices I made away. I gave my entire life for her dancing, and she throw it away for a man. Nadia soon replaced her as prima ballerina in New York City Ballet Company and in Dimitri’s heart.”
For a man and her baby. For Sophia. How could Alena not see the pain her words cut through Sophia? She probably didn’t care. She certainly never had before.
Alena looked at Sophia. “I realize I was wrong after Lance died. I try to see Nina and you. I try to tell her I am so sorry. But she tells me she never want to see me again. That I am no longer her mother.”
Sophia cried inside for her mother. Poor Mamochka . . . she was a new wife and mother and her husband had just been killed. She had to face her mother, the woman who had all but demanded she abort her baby. The woman who had tried to keep her from the man she loved. The woman who had abandoned her daughter because of her own dreams.
“I am sorry, Sophia.” Alena’s tears slipped down her cheeks. “If I could go back, I would do things different.”
Would she? Or would she keep her own desires for Nina above what her daughter wanted most?
“I am your Babushka. I made mistake with Nina, but I am here for you. To take care of you.”
Sophia closed her eyes and turned her head. It was too much for her to handle right now. She couldn’t deal with Alena Borin.
It was probably a good thing Sophia couldn’t speak because if she could, she would probably say a lot to her grandmother that wasn’t found in the New Testament.
6
Thanks for agreeing to see us again, Sophia. I know it’s late and you need your rest. I’ll keep this as short as I can.” Julian noticed that although the swelling had gone down even more in Sophia’s face, her eyes held more of a haunting look than earlier.
She had, after all, just lost her mother. Grief would most likely be settling in. The reality always came sometime after the initial shock of losing a loved one. Each person was different.
“This is my partner, Brody Alexander.”
Brody nodded. “We’ll be brief.”
“Anything to help solve my mother’s murder.” Charlie’s voice was void of emotion, but Julian could feel the determination radiating from Sophia.
“Going back over your statement and the case notes, I have a few other questions.” Julian opened his notebook, knowing Brody was doing the same from the other side of the room without even looking. They both liked taking their own notes, then entering them into the same case file they shared. Sometimes it helped trigger a new lead by having their different perspectives in black and white.
“Ask away.”
Everything about Sophia seemed off at the moment. It unnerved Julian. He wasn’t sure why he felt like he did—he certainly didn’t usually feel this way about victims on cases he worked. He didn’t like the sensations. Made him feel . . . well . . . made him feel and he’d managed to stop doing so for some time now. He didn’t like remembering what emotions did to him.
Brody cleared his throat, snagging Julian’s attention.
“Right.” He looked up from the file and smiled at Sophia. “We’re working on the timeline. Can you tell me what you were doing before the men knocked on the door?”
“Mamochka and I had a late dinner. We finished cleaning up the kitchen, then we had been sitting in the living room talking about my training. Coach Douglas had told me earlier he’d overnighted my training contract, and I should expect it on Thursday evening. We were waiting on the delivery while we talked.”
Julian made a note. “Was the television on? Dishwasher running? Anything making a steady noise?”
“We had music on softly in the kitchen, as we usually did.” Sophia tilted her head and stared hard at Julian. “Why?”
Even though Charlie spoke the words, the question reached Sophia’s eyes.
Julian leaned forward. He had to proceed carefully with pulling out this information. “Do you remember hearing anything before the knock on the door?”
Sophia closed her eyes. Even with her injuries, twitches and tension conveyed her concentration.
Brody pushed off the opposite wall, holding his tablet handy. He preferred to write his notes on his electronic tablet, then have the document of his notes sent to the case file. Julian preferred the pen and paper. He just felt more connected with ink flowing from his pen or pencil.
Sophia opened her eyes. “There was an engine sound. Like a scooter or golf cart. Not loud, but like those types of engines hum.”
“You didn’t hear a vehicle in the drive? Could you have mistaken it for the delivery truck?” He shouldn’t lead the witness in any part of giving a statement, but Julian needed to be sure. This was very important.
Sophia shook her head. “No, and now, in hindsight, I realize we probably shouldn’t have just opened the door without checking. But we were expecting the delivery, so we just did.”
“What about anything else you might remember? Any other sounds?” Julian pushed.
Again she closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t remember hearing anything else.”
Julian smiled and patted her covered leg. “No, you’re doing great.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“You are.”
Brody stepped forward. “Ms. Montgomery, about your—”
“Please, call me Sophia. When you say Ms. Montgomery, it sounds like you’re addressing my mother, and . . .”
“I understand.” Brody flashed her one of his rare smiles.
Julian pressed his lips together and stared at the file in his lap. She’d gotten to the hard-nosed Brody Alexander, too. There was definitely something special about Sophia Montgomery.
Brody continued. “Sophia, can you think of anyone your mother had problems with recently?”
“I’d only been here a week visiting. I live in Plano, Texas, so I don’t know who my mother had problems with.”
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p; “Anything she might have mentioned? Something she told you on the phone recently, perhaps?” Brody asked.
Sophia shook her head and mouthed. “I was busy training for nationals, so my phone conversations with my mother were brief. After nationals, they announced the Olympic team members. We did the whole press thing, then had two weeks before we are supposed to report to the training center in Huntsville, Texas. I came home to visit Mamochka.”
“Do you know if she kept a diary?” Julian asked.
“No—I-I’m not sure.”
“Is it possible she did?”
“Maybe.”
“Did your mother mention anything about having problems with anyone?” Julian asked.
“No, but apparently, my mother didn’t tell me everything.”
“Is there anyone you can think of who didn’t like your mother or had a grudge against her?” Brody tapped his stylus against his chin.
“I’m not aware of anyone.” Sophia frowned. “Well, aside from her mother, Alena Borin.”
Julian and Brody made eye contact over the hospital bed. “Your grandmother?” Brody asked.
Sophia nodded. “She and my mother were estranged. My mother had lied to me all my life, telling me Alena was dead.”
Yeah, he already knew that. Julian patted the covers over her leg again. “Have you talked with Alena since she left?”
She stared at Julian and slowly nodded. No denying the unshed tears she blinked away. “She came earlier. She wanted to explain. Told me the truth.”
Julian locked stares with Brody again.
“Oh, your police officer was nice and came in and asked if it was okay before he let her in. I gave permission. Although now, I wish I hadn’t.”
An unfamiliar knot tightened in Julian’s chest. “You think she had a grudge against your mother?”
“Oh, she did. No question about it.” Sophia blinked rapidly.
Julian groaned inside. If she started crying again, it just might undo him.
“She begrudged my mother for daring to fall in love. Even worse, she held a grudge against my mother for giving up her dancing career to have a child. Apparently, she begged my mother to abort me, but my mother refused. Alena wouldn’t forgive her. She’s held a grudge ever since.”
It took all of Julian’s strength not to reach out and pull Sophia into his arms, and he couldn’t even explain why. If there was ever someone needing compassion and protection, it was Sophia Montgomery. Maybe that’s what made him feel so unusual. So out of character.
But he couldn’t do that.
Brody cleared his throat. “Um, Sophia, do you think your—Alena could be involved somehow in the attack on you and your mother? Is that what you meant?”
Sophia paused for what seemed like several minutes, and for a moment, Julian wondered if her meds had kicked in and she’d dozed off. Finally, she mouthed.
“No. There’s no logic to it,” Charlie said for her. “I was trying to make the point there are people I’d least expect who have grudges or harbor ill feelings. My mother and her mother were estranged, yet all my life, my mother, who I thought was always honest and upfront with me, had lied to me. I would have never believed it if someone had told me, but here it is, the truth.”
Sophia stared at Brody. “So, to answer your question, I know of no one who made threats against my mother, but that isn’t saying much.”
Her emotional agony was as clear in her statement as her physical injuries. Julian couldn’t imagine how she felt. Her own grandmother had wanted her aborted—it had to cut right through her heart. Especially with someone as emotionally vulnerable, at the moment, as Sophia. Injuries aside, she’d lost her mother and the only career she’d ever known. Now to find out her own grandmother had despised her existence so much that she stopped talking to her daughter because of it . . . no wonder Sophia acted differently now. She had a lot to deal with all at once.
“Had your mother acted oddly during your visit? Maybe received a phone call and acted upset afterward?” Brody asked.
Sophia shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
“Well, it was worth a try.” Julian smiled, wishing he could ease her pain in some way, but knowing he couldn’t.
And that, for some unexplained reason, haunted him more than he cared to consider.
* * *
“Thank you for staying,” Sophia mouthed.
“No problem,” Charlie said. “I didn’t have plans. Happy to ask the nurse your questions.”
“I’m sorry they’re having to get the charge nurse and you have to wait.” Sophia had just about enough of questions with no answers. She was tired of being helpless.
“As I said before, I have no plans, so it’s not a big deal.” Charlie leaned back in the chair, flipping her full auburn hair over her shoulder.
Sophia realized she knew nothing about the person who had so graciously been acting as her voice. “What do you do? I mean, besides read lips?”
“Actually, reading lips is my job.” Charlie laughed. It was a husky, throaty laugh.
Sophia decided it suited her.
“I’m a professional lip reader. I mainly work for a variety of law enforcement agencies in the area—FBI, the state police, local sheriff offices—to help cases with surveillance videos and other types of interviews. On occasion, I’ve ventured in to help in other cases.”
“Like mine?”
Charlie nodded. “Like yours.”
It could be interesting. “Are you deaf?” Sophia mouthed.
Charlie laughed again. Sophia could get used to the sound. “No, I’m not deaf. My older brother was, so I grew up learning to sign before I spoke and learning to read lips before I could read books.” She shrugged. “I enjoy helping others and I’m good at it, so I became a professional lip reader/translator.”
“Well, I appreciate you.” It was nice to talk to someone. Especially a female.
In Sophia’s life, she didn’t make girlfriends because she was always too busy practicing in the gym or heading to a competition. She couldn’t count other gymnasts as friends, either, because at the end of the day, they were competition. Gymnastics could be a ruthless industry, full of backstabbers and selfish climbers who used people to get to the next level. Not exactly girls you wanted to share your innermost thoughts with. Sophia had learned early in the game not to try and become best friends with the other girls. It only led to painful disappointments.
“You’re so welcome, Sophia.” Charlie leaned forward in the chair. “I heard Alena came back to see you.” It was a statement, but the lilt at the last word made it sound like a question.
Sophia nodded. “Unfortunately, she did. I’m sure Julian or Brody told you. I was what caused my mother and Alena’s estrangement. Alena wanted my mother to abort me and keep her dancing career, and my mother refused.”
“Well, thank the good Lord she did.”
Relief filled Sophia. Sometimes, it was hard to tell if someone was a Christian, but knowing this woman she’d felt such a connection to was a believer made Sophia extremely happy. She went on to replay the conversation to Charlie, filling her in even on the most painful admissions.
“Wow. I’m so sorry, Sophia. It’s rough. On top of everything else you’re having to deal with right now.”
“I understand why Mamochka lied and told me Alena was dead. She knew if she admitted Alena demanded I be aborted, it would hurt me, but she knew if I knew Alena was alive, I’d ask endless questions about her until the truth came out. I know she was trying to protect me, trying to spare my feelings, but I just feel so . . . betrayed by my mother.”
“I understand. I would think as a mother, she’d do anything to protect her child.” Charlie smiled. “Protect you.”
“But she also taught me lying was wrong. Even the little white lies to save someone’s feelings from being hurt. I feel like now I have to question every life lesson she told me. Was she teaching me to do as she said, not as she did? Didn’t she hold herself to the same s
tandards as she taught me? Did she teach me one way, but act in a totally different manner?” Sophia shook her head as the confusion spun a cobweb around her mind.
“I can only imagine how confusing this must all be. I’d drive myself crazy with all the possibilities.”
“I know.” Sophia had grown weary of trying to figure things out. After she had refused to open her eyes and look at Alena, the woman had finally gotten the hint and left. She’d made sure she shook her head strongly when the police officer guarding the door asked if he should let Alena back in.
“You know, I can see how Alena felt the way she did. She’d given up everything—her home, her husband, her entire life—for her daughter’s dancing, only to feel like her daughter threw it all away.” Sophia let out a heavy sigh. “She wasn’t right, of course, but in a warped way, I can kinda understand how she felt betrayed, too.”
“So she feels betrayed by what she believes is her daughter’s selfishness. Your mother feels betrayed by her mother who refused to accept her love and her child. And you feel betrayed by both of them.”
Sophia nodded. “Exactly. But even more, I’m seeing a pattern. Alena sacrificed everything for my mother’s success in dancing. Hired the best instructors. Worked at odd jobs so she could afford the dance studios, but also have a flexible schedule so she could take her to the classes. They had their estrangement and never spoke again. But my mother did much of the same thing for me. She sacrificed a lot to pay for my gymnastics. She hired the best coaches. Worked when she didn’t feel like it at the studio to pay for me to go to the best gym here, then paid for me to get to go to the gym I now train from.”
“But you love gymnastics, yes?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, but my mother loved dancing. Everything about her screamed of her love for ballet. Her mother gave up everything for her to dance. My mother gave up everything—even her true love of being a ballerina—for me.”
“Because she loved your father and you. She wanted a family. It was her choice.”
“Maybe.” But Sophia couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had regretted her choice. Especially after Sophia’s father died.