“I’ve really enjoyed getting to know Lily and Earl Lookey. Wasn’t Earl’s description of Vreeland a hoot? ‘Mostly knockers and blonde hair.’”
“Yeah, if I’d known he was so cool when I was a kid,” Julio said, “I would have let up on toilet papering his Maple tree every Halloween.”
Connie laughed. “Well, you know what they say about hindsight, but I don’t think Mr. Lookey holds it against you.”
“Yeah. You know, I think we should invite Lily and Mr. Lookey to join us at the inn for Thanksgiving. It will be my way of thanking them for everything they’ve done for us.”
Connie frowned. “Lily told me some very sad things. She never had a father, in fact never knew who he was. She and her mother lived a frugal life. More to the point they were extremely poor. Going to Tilden High must have been quite difficult, where most of us never had to worry about money. We always had what we needed and almost everything we could want. Lily remembered that I was a cheerleader and for her that was the epitome of success. She wasn’t in the popular group and hung out with the ‘dorks’ like her best friend, a gay kid named Sammy. I don’t remember either of them. Of course she was a year younger so that had something to do with it, I suppose.”
After breakfast, Connie and Andrew said their goodbyes to Julio. Afterwards, Connie and Andrew, who were both staying one more day, headed back to her suite on the third floor. When she realized they were finally alone, Connie suddenly felt shy and awkward. Andrew must have sensed it because he took both her hands in the elevator and gently asked how she was doing.
Connie was still a bit weepy from saying goodbye to Julio. “As sad as I am at the prospect of not seeing Julio again until Thanksgiving, this was also the happiest I’ve been in twenty-two years.”
Andrew smiled. “I feel the same way.”
They walked into the room and Connie immediately started busying herself by picking things up and checking her messages. Andrew took her hand again and said, “I guess that new Connie I met the other night at the reunion is gone.” Connie smiled shyly and Andrew smiled back and said, “That’s okay. I’m in love with the old Connie. I’m not going to push myself on you. I know you’re very fragile right now.”
Connie kissed him and said, “Thank you for understanding.”
“No problem. So…what do you want to do today?”
“Just be with you.” With that, Andrew took her in his arms and gently and slowly kissed her.
Connie kissed him back and then slowly pushed him away. “I don’t want the ugliness of the other night to creep into my relationship with you, so I just need to give it a little time.”
“Whatever you want, Connie,” Andrew said gently. “I’m with you, but I do want you to know I never stopped loving you. Ever. But I never really expected to see you again. I was resigned to dedicating my life to my work and sports and probably living a bachelor’s life until I was a lonely old man,” he said sadly.
Connie commiserated with him, cupping his cheek and smiling up at him. “That won’t happen, Andrew, because that’s exactly how I feel about you. I couldn’t let myself love anyone else. I knew I would always love you and seeing you again confirmed it for me.”
“Well, then, is it too soon to talk about our future together, or is that too much for you right now?”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, from this moment on, my future is with you.”
“Then would you consider moving to New York?”
“In a New York minute. I need to go back and check on Aunt Viv and give my job some notice. I will need to give the company time to find a new General Manager, but I have a few people in mind to put before the board of trustees, that is, if they want the job.”
“What about your Aunt? Will she be okay without you?”
“I’ll talk to her, but she’s got a full life in Utah with her friends. I know she’ll miss having me close by, but she can visit us as often as she wants.”
“Then let’s start the wheels turning for our life together.”
“I just want to mention so you’re aware of it, life in New York means living in a much smaller space then you’re used to.”
“I can’t wait,” Connie said. “But before we jump into this, I have to ask you a question that has been bothering me about my parents’ murders.”
“Alright. I’ve been waiting for this one.”
“Why did the police arrest you? Weren’t you in school like the rest of us and couldn’t they verify that?” Connie asked.
Andrew took a deep breath and sighed. “I wasn’t in school that day, Connie.”
“Were you home sick?” Connie asked hopefully.
“No, I wasn’t,” he said.
“Oh, God, Andrew, where were you?”
Andrew sighed and didn’t speak for several seconds. Connie could feel her muscles tightening up and dread engulfing her.
“Connie, listen to me and don’t interrupt. I’ll explain everything.”
Connie’s stomach turned inside out and she was preparing herself for the final blow.
“I was in downtown Cincinnati that morning, marching against racial injustice. I didn’t tell my parents or anyone else. I heard about the march from some black football players from another school. I was starting to become politically curious about the Negro role in society. I know it’s hard for you, as a white person, to understand this, but as the only black guy in our entire school, I felt isolated. Julio felt the same way.
“I started reading about the racial deprivation outside of our little world in Tilden Park. The more I learned about the poverty and segregation around me, the more I felt a compulsion to fight it. I debated with myself long and hard before I did the march because I didn’t want it to affect my parents’ jobs or my chances for a scholarship. I realized what a good life I had, but after wrestling with my conscience, I knew I had to do it.
“Remember the homecoming game when we went out for pizza afterwards and they wouldn’t seat us because I was black?”
“Of course I do. We were celebrating our team winning the football game—the game you almost single-handedly won for us,” said Connie proudly.
“I was so humiliated, Connie. Even though everyone walked out with me, the damage to my ego was done. I’ll never forget that episode. Up until that point, I tolerated sometimes not being able to use a restroom or a drinking fountain because the sign said, ‘Whites Only’. I started reading about civil rights and Martin Luther King. He and thirty-three other blacks were arrested for sitting at a lunch counter somewhere in the south. They officially arrested King on a traffic violation, but everyone knew the truth. White people at that time were not only refusing to share facilities with blacks, but they were also unwilling to share any economic, political or social power.
“As a young black man, I had to contribute to making changes. I was even angry at my parents because they seemed resigned to the way things were. In fact, your parents were more sympathetic to the Negro cause than my own parents were, or at least that’s what I felt at the time. I’ve since learned to understand my parents’ perspective as I grew older. Simply stated, they wanted a better life for me and they felt I was better off going through the education system. It seemed safer, easier and smarter than a violent, grassroots endeavor.
“Anyway, I took a bus from the Tilden Park Square into downtown and I marched. I was hoping no one would recognize me, but in the end, I was lucky two people did see me, which saved me from being wrongfully prosecuted. As I marched, I had a feeling of sanctity and I decided that day I would use the resources available to me to fight for what I believed in. Ironically, what I thought was a genesis for me that day turned out to be the end of my wonderful life with you.
“I came home to the news about your parents and the police were questioning me about why I wasn’t in school and where I was. At first I told them that I played hooky from school and went to the library downtown to work on a paper. I thought by admitting what I did, my parents could lose the
ir jobs, so I couldn’t have it all over the news. I told my parents the truth after the cops left and they convinced me to tell the truth. They supported me for what I did and said they were prepared to pay the consequences.
“When I finally told the police the truth, no one could verify I was there. After two days, the bus driver saw the newspapers and verified that I was on the bus downtown. We had a conversation about my going to the march. He gave me specific directions on where to go. Remember, Connie, this was 1964. Luckily, the driver who recognized me from my picture plastered all over the newspapers came forward to verify my alibi. Most whites, even now, think we all look alike.”
“I don’t think…”
“I know you don’t, and neither did the white reporter from the New York Times who confirmed my alibi a couple of days after the murders. He interviewed me for his article and agreed not to use my name.
“I mainly feel guilty because, by not coming forward with the truth, the police spent the first forty-eight hours convinced it was me, rather than looking for the real killer. I can’t tell you how that has torn me up inside, and now that I’ve told you about it, I wouldn’t blame you for resenting me and maybe changing your mind about me. About us.”
Connie looked at him and smiled kindly. “Andrew, I don’t blame you. I understand and I love you even more for the stand you took back then. We can still find the killer and go on with our lives. Somehow, through my faith, I believe things happen for a reason, and I’ve learned how to accept and forgive. I hope you can feel that way, too.”
“I can try if you help me,” Andrew said.
“Andrew, I will always help you and support you in anything you do, because I trust you to do the right thing.”
They spent the rest of the day making plans. Connie telephoned Sgt. Reynolds and told him they were leaving the next day but would return for Thanksgiving. She asked him to keep her informed about the case and he promised he would. Connie also called Lily and Earl and invited them for Thanksgiving dinner at the Tilden Park Inn as their guests. She asked Lily to keep concentrating on the watch belonging to her father. Connie said she didn’t want to go through another séance, but would be interested in any thoughts or feelings Lily might have between now and Thanksgiving.
Chapter 25
Tuesday—September 16, 1986
Julio stepped out of the air-conditioned lobby of his office building into the warm, moist Florida air. He’d been back in Miami for seven days. It had been a hellish week at work, which was normal whenever he took off a few days from the office. Now, finally, he had a break and he was en route to Coral Gables to check out the realtor, Beth Vreeland—the woman who’d had a public fight with his mother all those years ago.
As he approached her well-appointed apartment building, Julio was quickly trying to put together some kind of game plan. Usually, if he kept his cool and found a woman to sweet-talk, he could get just about anything he needed or wanted. Women were susceptible to his charms, and he wasn’t above using whatever it took to get helpful information. Walking confidently past the doorman and into the foyer, he surreptitiously scanned the lobby looking for the elevators.
Lucky break! The door man was engaged in a heated dispute with an elderly couple. Taking advantage of the doorman’s distraction, Julio quickly moved in the direction of where he suspected the elevators would be. Lucky again. They were right where he thought they would be. Pushing the ‘up’ button, he waited for a car to open. Just as the doors opened, the same elderly couple he had spotted arguing with the doorman, walked in. Damn, he better wait. Pretending he had lost or forgotten something, he mumbled to the couple not to hold the elevator for him.
Julio turned away quickly and feigned walking back into the lobby. He had turned so abruptly he almost bumped into an elderly lady with a walker. He hadn’t heard her behind him. As she shuffled past him to wait for the next arriving elevator, he gave her his brightest smile. She looked at him suspiciously as the elevator arrived.
Just as the elevator was about to close, the doorman rushed in and blocked the doors with his hand. “Sir, you can’t just walk in here. I need your name and who you want to see.”
The elderly lady looked at Julio again, then said, “That’s okay, Chester. He’s with me.”
The doorman released his hold on the door and said, “No problem then. Thanks, Mrs. Sands.”
“Close call, young man. If you weren’t so good looking, I wouldn’t have covered for you. I spotted you for trouble when you entered the lobby and rushed so quickly to the elevator. I saw you scoping things out. Bet you didn’t even notice me watching you. Hope you’re not a detective; your detecting skills seem a bit sub-par. Now, what are you doing here and how can I help?”
Julio thanked the elderly lady and said he was going to visit Beth Vreeland but forgot her apartment number.
“Well, young man, I may be able to help you, but I still think you’re up to something.”
“Then why did you cover for me with the doorman?”
“Because I’m curious. We don’t get many of your type around here. This place is mostly full of boring old codgers with nauseatingly bad breath and clothes smelling like mothballs. Most can’t remember anything, much less do anything. No action around here. So what’s your business with Beth Vreeland? She’s a bit of a mystery; I haven’t been able to figure her out yet. She’s hoity-toity, but definitely too old for you. Although she does like ’em young.”
The elevator door opened on the sixth floor. Mrs. Sands walked out and Julio followed her.
“She’s a friend of my mother’s from Ohio and I wanted to look her up,” he explained, hoping the old lady wouldn’t ask any more questions.
“Oh, my young friend, have you ever heard the expression you can’t shit a shitter? You’re not a very good liar. If you want me to help you, then tell me what you’re really up to.”
“Okay, you win.” Julio smiled, pulling out his business card. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Julio Harriman and I’m an attorney in Miami. I’m interested in finding Beth Vreeland regarding a case I’m working on. She doesn’t know me and she’s not expecting me. All I want to do is ask her some questions.”
“Well, that’s more like it,” Mrs. Sands said. “And you just hit the jackpot. Her apartment is six-oh-seven, right across the hall from me. I’m in six-oh-five. But, now your luck’s fading as I doubt she’ll be home.”
“Any idea when you think she’ll be back?”
“Nope. Vreeland never seems to be here much and I don’t blame her. Dull! This place is pretty, but it’s kind of a downer. I sit in the corner of the lobby most days where I can see everyone coming and going. It’s a great spot. I see everything and no one sees me. Problem is, there isn’t much to see. Fooled you though, didn’t I?”
“I must admit I didn’t notice you when I walked in and I was scanning the lobby.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I’m not sure that says much. Like I said before, your detecting skills are definitely amateur. Alright now, you just ring her bell and if no one answers, remember, I’m just across the hall.”
Julio knocked on the door while Mrs. Sands stood there. When there was no answer, Julio turned to say goodbye to the old woman but instead, he hesitated and then asked, “Would you do me a favor?”
“Well that depends. I’m from New York and we don’t trust just anyone, especially some slick looking guy who just strolled in off the sidewalk, although if it’s espionage, I’m in.”
Julio smiled. “If you see Mrs. Vreeland returning, would you call me?”
Mrs. Sands looked him up and down and said, “You look on the up and up, but how am I to know you’re not some kind of con man or perpetuator?”
Julio laughed and said. “If you mean perpetrator, I assure you I’m not. You can call my office to verify I am who I say I am.”
“I certainly will and if you check out, I’ll be glad to call you.”
“Good. And if I could ask one more favor…please don
’t mention my visit to Mrs. Vreeland. I’d like to surprise her.”
Mrs. Sands winked and said. “I’ll bet you would. This plot seems to be thickening by the minute. I’ll be on the lookout for her and give you a call. Got to love a man of mystery.”
Chapter 26
Wednesday—September 17, 1986
Julio groggily answered the bedside phone that had just roused him from a particularly pleasant dream. “Julio here…what?” he said as he pulled himself up to a sitting position.
“I said, she’s in there.”
“Who is this?” Julio mumbled.
“It’s Sylvia in Coral Gables. You wanted me to call you if I saw Beth Vreeland.”
“Oh, yeah. Mrs. Sands. What time is it?”
“Honey, it’s a little after two in the wee hours. The night is still young as they say. Vreeland, she always comes and goes at night. Didn’t I tell you that?”
“No, Mrs. Sands. I think you forgot to tell me that, and just out of curiosity, what are you doing awake at two o’clock in the morning?” Julio asked.
“Spying. Just out and out spying. Unlike you, honey, I keep my detecting skills sharp.”
Julio laughed. “I never doubted you for a minute. I have an early meeting in the morning, but I’ll come by after that. If you should see her leave again, would you call me at my office?” he asked.
“You can bet on it.”
That morning at ten, Julio went back to Mrs. Sand’s building. This time he stopped at the doorman’s desk to identify himself and had him call Mrs. Sands’ apartment. The doorman gave him a strange look, but did as he was asked. When granting Julio permission to go upstairs, he seemed to want to say something, but stopped himself. Julio surmised he was concerned that Mrs. Sands was being taken advantage of in some way. Julio smiled to himself, because he wasn’t sure who had the upper hand in this relationship.
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