Hell’s bells. “We know what you mean. What did you do with the pen?”
“I slid it in the mail slot,” said Jacynthe. “And then I stood on the porch and listened. Sofia and Tess went around back. I had the Taser that night.”
“We walked around to the doors that open to the pool deck,” said Sofia.
Jacynthe continued. “Anne Frances was there—thank the Good Lord she wasn’t dead. But he was yelling at her, just awful. She was crying. It was an awful ruckus. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. I should get my money back on those pens. The sound is horrible. Anyway, like I told you, we’ve had this go real bad a couple times. I tried the front door. It was unlocked. I went in, snuck up behind him. When he grabbed her by the arm I tased him.”
“Did Mrs. Drayton see you sneaking up behind him?” I asked.
“No,” said Jacynthe. “She was sitting on the sofa, crying. She had her head in her hands. He was standing over her. Then he just reached down and grabbed her.”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“Well, he was on the floor,” said Jacynthe. “She was in shock, which was to be expected. She hollered at me, ‘What did you do to him?’”
“I told her he’d be fine in a minute and let Sofia and Tess in the back door.”
“When we came in, Anne Frances was kneeling by her husband,” said Tess. “She must have moved while Jacynthe had her back turned, when she opened the door. Anne Frances was distraught.”
Jacynthe said, “I didn’t tase him good enough, I guess. It was my first time. He started to come around. I grabbed Anne Frances and pulled her away—”
“You tackled her,” said Sofia.
“Well, okay then,” said Jacynthe. “Maybe I did tackle her. But it was for her own protection.”
“Sofia hit him with the pepper spray,” said Tess. “He reached out—he was flailing, grabbing at us. I defended myself with that tactical pen. I stabbed him in the arm. It was barely more than a scratch.”
“Finally, I tased him good,” said Jacynthe. “He quieted right down.”
“What was Mrs. Drayton doing all this time?” I asked.
“She was screaming at us to leave him alone,” said Sofia. “Like the way you were in the graveyard this afternoon.”
“Well, like I said, the poor thing was in shock at first,” said Jacynthe.
Tess said, “When we told her to come with us, we’d keep her safe, she just started shaking her head, said she couldn’t leave him. She wanted Jacynthe to make sure he was okay. She seemed very disoriented, which was not all that surprising given the circumstances.”
Sofia said, “We wanted to make sure she had extra time to leave if she needed it, so we started to tie him up before we left.”
“And I guess he must’ve been faking how out of it he was,” said Jacynthe, “because all of a sudden, he jumped up, pulled the ropes off, and ran out of the house. We didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“I followed him,” said Sofia.
Jacynthe said, “Tess and I started cleaning up. We grabbed a trash bag and threw everything in it. Even the towels we mopped up the floor with. Anne Frances jumped right in and helped.”
“Right,” said Sofia. “I followed Mr. Drayton. He went out the back door, through the gate to the driveway. I had one hand on the gate when he ran right out into the street. I don’t know if he couldn’t see good because of the pepper spray or if he was just running away and didn’t look. Somebody turned the corner off of Murray. It was raining so hard, there was no way they could’ve stopped. It was an accident. They ran right into him. This poor woman got out of the car. She was crying and screaming. I don’t know if she didn’t have a phone or what, but she searched his pants and found his. She called for help. And then got back into her SUV and left. Drove around Mr. Drayton. I knew help was on the way, but I thought maybe Jacynthe could help in the meantime. So I ran straight back inside.”
“And I immediately called 911, to be certain help was on the way,” said Tess. “Then I told Jacynthe and Sofia we needed to leave. Jacynthe wanted to help Mr. Drayton. But I knew her family would suffer if she were found at the scene. It was my decision. We all left out the side door. And then we saw poor Poppy turn the corner onto Lenwood.”
“The only one of you who saw the SUV hit Phillip was Sofia?” asked Nate.
“That’s right,” said Sofia. “But the thing of it is, it was an accident. No question about it.”
“Then why would she leave the scene?” I said.
“I don’t know,” said Sofia, “Maybe panic? She seemed concerned. She called for help.”
“Close your eyes, concentrate,” said Nate. “Tell us about the SUV.”
“It was white, and big,” said Sofia. “Boxy. Not like a…a…crossover or anything like that. Not long like a Suburban.”
“Could it have been a van?” I asked. Maybe Ryan had another female accomplice.
Sofia’s forehead winkled. “No. It definitely wasn’t a van.”
“If you looked at some photos, do you think you’d recognize it?” I asked.
Sofia shook her head. “No, I’ve tried. It was just raining so hard.”
“Anything else you can think of?” Nate asked.
Sofia’s eyes popped open. “It had those bars on the front.”
“Like bush bars?” I asked.
“Like you see on cars that go on safari,” said Sofia.
“What about the back of it,” asked Nate. “When it was driving away? Anything?”
She shook her head slowly.
“What can you tell us about the woman?” I asked.
“Not much,” said Sofia. “She had on a rain coat with a hood—tan. But the hood came down. She had really long, straight blonde hair.”
I pulled out my phone and navigated to Emma’s photo. “Is this her?”
Sofia scrutinized the photo. “It could be. The hair is right. But I can’t say for sure. I didn’t see her well enough. I’m sorry.”
Nate and I exchanged a look.
“Who is it?” asked Tess.
“Back to Mrs. Drayton,” I said. “Did she ever specifically tell you that her husband abused her?”
It was the ladies turn to exchange a look.
“No,” said Jacynthe.
“Why did she tell you she wanted to be picked up on Thursday?” I asked.
“She said an old boyfriend was bothering her,” said Sofia. “Turned up after her husband died. She was afraid of him, waiting for him to leave town.”
I said, “You obviously spoke with her Saturday evening. I’m guessing your security staff told you about her old boyfriend showing up after they carted him out. But you also knew I’d been there—knew to pull up the security video. Anne Frances had to have told you that. Did she mention how he found her at your house?”
Sofia said, “One of our security guards searched her purse. There was a tracking device disguised as a USB drive.”
“Had he ever been there before? With her?” I asked.
“No,” said Sofia.
“How did he get inside?” Nate asked. “Your security is top notch. And did she have any idea how he knew how to dress, what kind of place it was?”
Sofia muttered something in Spanish that might’ve been curse words. “The Draytons are members. Somehow the ex-boyfriend got the phone number and access code. He called for a pickup as a guest of Phillip Drayton. Our system didn’t have him marked as deceased. I was upstairs with our guests for most of the evening.” She gave me an accusatory look. “He looked like he fit in. Until he tried to get upstairs, anyway.”
“Did you ask Anne Frances how he knew enough to pull that off?” I asked.
“She said he must’ve gone through her husband’s desk,” said Sofia. “She was afraid the ex-boyfriend might break in�
��that was one of the reasons she came to us. He could’ve found Phillip’s membership credentials. We do have a brochure with amenities. It includes the dress code.”
“Is she still at your place?” I asked.
“Yes, but we’ve briefed security. The ex-boyfriend won’t get back on the property.”
Tess said, “We are all extremely aware that our actions, however well-intended, contributed to Phillip Drayton’s death. I won’t have you think we take that lightly.”
“Then why didn’t you just come forward—go to the police and tell them what happened?” I asked. “Or stay at the scene to begin with?”
Tess drew her shoulders back. “Our actions were in defense of a poor woman who had been repeatedly beaten by that man. A woman who asked for our help. I’m not suggesting he deserved the death penalty, nor that his punishment was ours to decide at all. We are not some wild gang bent on vigilante justice. We help women in desperate situations every day. But we don’t go around killing people. That said, if Phillip Drayton hadn’t repeatedly sent his wife to the emergency room, none of this would’ve happened, would it? Our going to jail won’t bring Phillip back. What it will do, however, is destroy a network that helps countless other women and children who are in harm’s way, some of whom, without our help, would likewise end up dead. It’s a matter of weighing the possible outcomes, both good and bad. Think what you will.”
Tears streamed down Jacynthe’s face. “I have peace with whatever happens.”
For her part, Sofia kept quiet.
“We’ll need to give Fraser a full report,” I said. As much as I would’ve liked to, I could not call Sonny and give him what we’d found. I had no idea what sort of deal Fraser might be able to make on their behalf, but at least he would be able to let Sonny know there were witnesses and that Poppy was innocent. How much had Tess told him to begin with?
“Yes, dear,” said Tess. “Do that straightaway. He’ll know what to do for our Poppy.”
“But you could have told him virtually everything we know yourself to begin with.” I might have sounded just the tiniest bit cranky.
“That word,” said Tess. “Virtually. That word covers a great deal, doesn’t it, my dear? I imagine you have much more to tell Fraser than just our part in this.”
She was right. We knew who’d very likely been driving the SUV. We knew who’d searched his pockets, found his phone, and made the near-hysterical 911 call. We knew who had hit then run.
“If you’ll indulge me,” said Nate, “I am curious. How did you ladies meet—come to be working together?”
“Jacynthe and Sofia give generously of their time to the charity I founded, Zelda’s Safe House.” The regal tone was back in Tess’s voice.
“It’s a noble charity,” said Nate. “But there are many worthy causes. How did you choose this one to devote your life’s work to?”
Tess straightened her spine a little further, which I would’ve thought impossible.
Sofia said, “My sister was killed by her husband. He beat her for twelve years before he put her in the ground. He escaped prosecution. I have no idea where he is, or I would kill him myself. I channel that passion into helping others.”
“And your husband, Hugh?” I asked.
Sofia looked outraged. “Hugh is in Honduras. What? You think he beat me and I killed him? Let me tell you this much. If he ever laid a hand on me, I would. He knew better. Hugh and I have a business arrangement that is none of your business. But if you want to talk to him, I will FaceTime him for you right now. I assure you he is fine. Probably drunk, but fine.”
“Jacynthe?” I said gently.
“I don’t mind telling you I was abused for years. My husband died of a heart attack. It took his death to set me free from a life that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I devote myself to helping others in the same situation.”
Nate and I looked at Tess.
“Very well,” she said. “Perhaps it should be discussed more openly. Domestic abuse is not the exclusive problem of any demographic. I was a battered wife myself. It’s not something I talk about. Perhaps I should reconsider that.”
“Well,” Nate said, “I’m sure Fraser will be in touch soon to let you know what happens next.
They all got real quiet, no doubt considering the possibilities.
I got all their cell phone numbers before we left, just in case.
We dropped in on Fraser, something he was unaccustomed to. Nevertheless, Mercedes showed us right in.
“Miz Talbot, Mr. Andrews. Have a seat. What do you have for me?”
We slid into our customary chairs.
I said, “I’ll get you a written report, but we wanted you to know immediately that there were witnesses to the accident. Poppy was not the driver of the vehicle that hit Phillip Drayton.”
We took turns talking, told him everything we knew.
“Let me make sure I understand you correctly,” said Fraser. “Are you telling me that Tess Hathaway is the woman who made that second 911 call?” His face was contorted. “That she stabbed Phillip Drayton in the hand with some pen?”
“Yes,” said Nate.
Fraser squinted, sat back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling.
“I will speak to Detective Ravenel immediately,” he said. “I remind you both that you are not free to do so.”
“We’re aware,” I said. “But we need your assurance that Poppy Oliver has nothing else to worry about.”
“You have my word,” he said. “Now. Finish the job. Find me that white SUV with a bush bar and tie it to the woman who was driving it.”
I was afraid he was going to say that. He’d need to hold all the cards he could get his hands on for the game he was about to play.
TWENTY-FIVE
We needed to be in Charleston first thing the next morning, so we stayed the night. With no business need to be at the Belmond, we checked in to the Hampton Inn on Meeting Street. Except for a few bites at Tess’s house, neither of us had eaten since breakfast. We grabbed an early dinner at Closed for Business, then settled into the hotel room to plan the next day.
“Rental cars leave paperwork,” I said. “I didn’t come across any of that in the desk at the Williams house. She most likely borrowed a car from someone she knows.”
“That makes sense,” said Nate. “We should do another pass through the neighborhood. Timing is everything.”
I did a quick search of Emma Williams’s few Facebook friends. All of the women in the photo were there. One of them was Karen Rigsby, whose birthday had fallen on August 13. Everyone except Emma had posted photos from the party at The Blind Tiger, which had started before she arrived and lasted well after she left. None of them owned a white SUV, nor did any of Emma’s other Facebook friends.
“We’re going to have to do it the hard way,” I said.
Tuesday morning we drove the streets of Wagener Terrace again. If a white SUV with a bush bar was there, it was parked in a garage. We pulled to the curb on Darlington near the Williams’ home at 7:15. We’d barely been there ten minutes before Emma walked the children to a house diagonally across the street. A grandmotherly looking woman held the door for the kids. Emma kissed them goodbye, helped them inside, spoke to the woman briefly, then waved and dashed back to the house.
Moments later she came back out with her husband, standing by as he navigated the steps. She hovered while he climbed into the passenger side of the Honda, then hurried around to the driver’s side and got in.
We followed her over to the Hollings Cancer Center at MUSC, where she pulled into an indented section of the curb on Johnathan Lucas Street under an overhang that seemed to be there for patient drop off. She climbed out, ran around the car, and helped her husband out and inside the building. We circled the block twice, then fell in behind her as she pulled away.
“She probably dropped hi
m off and now she’s going to park,” said Nate.
But she circled the block, made a left on Calhoun, and followed it back up to Meeting.
“She’s going to work,” I said. “She dropped him off for an appointment, or treatment, or something, and she can’t stay with him because she has to go to work or they don’t have insurance.” I swallowed hard, took a long, deep breath.
The Ridgetech offices were in the Bank of America building on the corner of Meeting Street and Hayne. The parking garage was immediately behind it, with the entrance on Hayne. We followed her into the garage and drove on past her as she parked, continuing up the ramp. I simultaneously hoped to find a white SUV with a bush bar and hoped not to find a white SUV with a bush bar.
And then we rounded a curve and a white Range Rover was right in front of us.
“I’ll look.” I climbed out of the car and walked around to the front of the Range Rover. Damnation. It had a bush bar. I took photos of it from every side, then climbed back into the Explorer.
Nate pulled into a parking place and I ran the tag.
“It belongs to Samuel Ridgeway,” I said. “Damn, damn, double damn.”
“I’m guessing it’s his company,” said Nate.
I navigated to the corporate website. “It is.” I stared at Samuel Ridgeway’s smiling face on the About page.
“That poor woman borrowed this car that night and then had the bad luck to hit a man who ran right out in front of her,” I said. “She already had more on her shoulders than—I don’t know how she walks upright.”
“It won’t be hard to prove,” said Nate. “If Sonny mentions to Samuel Ridgeway that he thinks his Range Rover was involved in an accident that resulted in a death, the first thing he’s going to do is tell him Emma was driving it that night,” said Nate.
“Her going to jail and leaving her sick husband with no insurance and those kids with only him to take care of them—if he can even do such a thing—is not going to bring Phillip Drayton back.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “And what happens to them if he dies? I haven’t seen family swarming around them, helping. Do they even have living grandparents? Aunts? Uncles? I didn’t look for any of that.”
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