by Gail Bowen
Nick arrived at around two-thirty, and he’d brought Zack with him. Chloe ran to hug her father and I embraced Zack. “I am so glad you’re home,” I said.
Nick grinned. “I figured picking Zack up and delivering him was the least I could do after what you did for Chloe and me today.”
Safe in her father’s arms, Chloe’s face was glowing. “We had a really good time, didn’t we, Jo?”
“We did indeed,” I said.
Nick was anxious to get home before the roads worsened, so after we said our goodbyes, the Kovacs left.
Zack took off his jacket, hung it on the hall tree, and then turned to me. “As soon as I saw your face when we came in, I knew something was wrong. What’s happened?”
We went into the family room, and I told Zack about the connection Chloe had made between the man who assaulted her and her reaction that morning to Gabe, Ainsley, and Shawn. Zack was frowning when I’d finished. “We could tell the police, Jo, and they’ll question them. But there were two men there this morning, and all Chloe has is the memory of a scent. I’m guessing what she smelled was one of the men’s aftershave, but that’s hardly solid evidence. Thousands of men must use the same brand.”
“That’s what I thought too. But something else happened this morning.”
When I told Zack about Ainsley’s visit, he leaned forward. “Now we have a problem,” he said.
“And the waters are even more muddied,” I said. “We have our suspicions about Gabe, but what’s Shawn O’Day’s story? The night of Zephyr’s fête, Shawn said he knew where Gabe went for ‘raw sexuality’ and he threatened to share what he knew. If Shawn knows about Gabe’s secrets, he might well travel in the same circles.”
“So it could be either of them,” Zack said.
“It could be,” I said. “But I don’t think it is. Zack, I don’t like the way Gabe Vickers looks at Vale. And Roy told me Gabe and Ainsley don’t have a sexual relationship.”
“A fact that in and of itself is not conclusive.” Zack sighed. “Let’s think about this. What are the facts? Chloe had a bad reaction to someone’s smell this morning, and Ainsley doesn’t want you to tell Nick about it.” Zack paused, deliberating. “It could get Gabe, Ainsley, and Shawn called in for questioning. I’m going to make a call to the investigations unit and let them decide if it’s enough evidence to pursue it further.” Zack pulled out his phone and began to dial, then he stopped to look at me searchingly. “If you’re okay with this, Jo. It might unleash a world of hurt.”
“I’m more than okay with it,” I said. “Just the possibility that whoever did this to Chloe has one more minute of freedom to hurt another child means we have to pursue every lead.” For a split second I thought of what Ainsley said about Roy and Flying Blue Horses, and then I put my hand on Zack’s knee. “Make the call,” I said.
Zack reached the detective in charge of Chloe’s case. He recounted the events of the day and told him our suspicions. When he hung up, Zack turned to me. “The detective said they’ve got a lot of cases on their desk, but they’ll look into it as soon as possible.”
“So we’ve done what we can do,” I said.
“For now,” Zack said. Then we settled back in our chairs and were silent as we looked out at the snow on the stark branches of the trees in front of the creek.
* * *
—
Taylor arrived home around four-thirty. When she said that Gabe had insisted on driving her home, Zack and I managed not to cringe. Our daughter was uncharacteristically quiet, and after hugging us, she went to her room and stayed there till I called her to say dinner was ready.
It was a sombre meal. We had a shrimp and orzo dish that Taylor usually devoured, but that night she picked at her food. Finally, she put her barely touched plate in the refrigerator and said she’d eat it later.
Zack was concerned. “Do you think you’re coming down with that flu?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. Jo, when you’re through eating I need to talk to you about something.” When she saw the concern in her father’s eyes, Taylor went to him and kissed the top of the head. “I really am okay, Dad. It’s something else.”
After Taylor left, Zack and I looked at each other. “Suddenly I’ve lost my appetite,” I said. “I’m going to go talk to her now.”
Taylor was curled up, still fully dressed, on the top of her bed with her cats. “Ready to talk?” I said.
She nodded. “Jo, what happened to Chloe the day she was assaulted?”
I sat down on the bed beside her. “You know everything that we know. A man picked Chloe up, gave her money, and assaulted her.”
“And he ejaculated, but there was no penetration,” she said.
“That’s right but, Taylor, why are you asking about this?”
“Could you tell me where he ejaculated?”
My stomach was churning. “Between Chloe’s breasts and legs,” I said.
Taylor dropped her eyes and began stroking Benny, the old tortoiseshell she’d owned the longest and from whom she most often sought out comfort. “Vale wrote an essay for her Yale college admission package,” she said. “It’s called ‘The Coin of the Realm.’ ”
“About the abuse of child actors,” I said. “Roy Brodnitz told me about it. Vale wrote about child actors being taken advantage of by predators and not having parents or other adults in their lives to protect them.”
Taylor’s face was a mask.
“Vale was writing about her own experience, wasn’t she?” I said.
Taylor nodded. “She just told me today, but I think I knew it all along,” she said, and I could hear the heaviness in our daughter’s voice. “That first night when Vale and I sat out on the balcony at Gabe Vickers’s condo after the celebration for Zephyr, we were having a great time, but after a while, I realized I was doing all the talking. I apologized and asked Vale to tell me about her life. She said, ‘I really don’t have a life—just a lot of characters’ lives.’ I blurted out something stupid about nobody being able to live that way, and Vale told me that not having a life of her own makes it easier. As long as she knows everything that’s happening to her is simply narrative, she’s never upset. She can do whatever she has to, to survive.”
“Taylor, I know you don’t want to talk about this. Neither do I, but there’s something very wrong about the dynamic between Gabe and Vale. He’s overly possessive and when he’s with her, his desire for her is obvious.” The words began tumbling out. “I know that casting her in The Happiest Girl has worked well, but after promising Ainsley carte blanche, Gabe overrode her casting decision and put Vale in the lead. Everyone says Gabe is the best producer in the business. He must have known that casting Vale as Ursula could threaten the success of the entire project. Did he insist on giving Vale the role because he’s in love with her?”
Taylor’s voice was almost a whisper. “It’s not love,” she said. “It’s something else.”
“Obsession?” I said.
For a long time, Taylor remained silent. The only sound in the room was Benny’s wheezy purr. My daughter’s misery was palpable, and I longed to simply drop the subject, but I couldn’t. “Taylor, are Gabe and Vale lovers?”
Her eyes flashing with anger, Taylor bolted to a sitting position. Realizing he’d been usurped, Benny hissed. “No,” she said. “Not lovers—at least, not in any normal sense. She lies down naked. He masturbates and then ejaculates on her breasts and thighs. He’s been doing it for months.”
“And Vale agrees to this,” I said.
“He doesn’t ask,” she said. “When it started, Vale knew that the other girl up for the role of Ursula was almost certain to be cast unless she went along with what Gabe wanted.” Taylor’s laugh was short and derisive, but her eyes were filled with tears. “Vale feels completely ashamed. Meanwhile, he says that since she’s still technically a virgin, there’s no harm in what they’re doing.”
“Taylor, I’m so sorry. You know that your father and I
will do anything we can to help Vale.”
“I know,” she said, “and I’m so grateful for both of you. But you’d better go now. I’m starting to lose it, and I still need to call Vale and tell her that Gabe was almost certainly the man who assaulted Chloe.”
* * *
—
Zack had reheated my dinner and poured me a glass of wine.
“You have to eat,” he said.
After I’d soldiered through my dinner and drunk my wine, Zack and I cleared away the dishes away.
“Do you want to get it over with?”
“Might as well,” I said.
When I finished telling him about my conversation with Taylor, Zack was angrier than I could ever remember him being. “Well, now we know,” he said, and his voice was cold with fury.
“It’s all going to come out,” I said. “The attack on Chloe. The relationship between Vale and Gabe. Zack, I knew there was something wrong there. The way Gabe looks at Vale. His possessiveness.”
Zack inhaled deeply. “Jo, if Gabe Vickers walked through that door right now, I’d kill him. That’s exactly why we need time to think this through. We can’t afford any missteps or that bastard will walk. Let’s go tell Taylor that we want to handle this together with Vale. Taylor can call Vale and assure her that if she wants me to, I’ll give the police this new information tomorrow morning. We can’t hold anything back, but we can make sure that the police understand that protecting the privacy of the victims is essential. And I’ll see Nick before I do anything else tomorrow morning.” Zack rubbed his temples. “God, I am dreading that.”
CHAPTER
14
It was difficult to imagine that any day could hold more pain than Monday had, but Tuesday was worse. It began with news of a tragedy. Pantera and Esme were just beginning to stir when Taylor appeared in our bedroom. She was wearing the flannel rompers she favoured for winter. Her hair was unbrushed and she was very pale.
“Something terrible has happened,” she said. “Vale just called. Gabe Vickers jumped from the balcony of his condo. He’s dead.”
I could feel Zack’s body tense. “It’s hard to know how to react, isn’t it? But Vickers’s suicide does eliminate a lot of problems.”
“He’ll never do what he did to Chloe and Vale again,” Taylor said softly.
Standing at the foot of our bed in her blue-and-white checked rompers, she looked very young. I moved closer to Zack and patted the place on the bed beside me. “Come get in here where it’s warm, Taylor,” I said.
She moved in next to me, but she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her body rigid. No one spoke. When, finally, Taylor began to talk, her voice, usually so filled with life, was a monotone. “Lizzie found him,” she said.
“Lizzie? The girl who came up to Vale the night of the dinner for Rosamond?” Zack said.
“Uh-huh,” Taylor said. “When the weather is bad, Lizzie sometimes sleeps in that glassed-in vestibule that opens into the lobby—the place where guests key in the number of the apartment they’re going to visit. Vale gave Lizzie the keycard for her condo, so she’d have a place to stay when it was cold, but she must have lost it, because she was in the vestibule this morning when she saw something fall. She thought someone had thrown out a coat. She went to get it and that’s when she found him. She texted Vale, and Vale’s with her now. I guess Lizzie’s pretty out of it.”
“Have they called the police?”
“Vale called 911 for an ambulance, but Lizzie freaked out when she suggested calling the police.” Taylor paused. “Dad, Vale convinced Lizzie that the police wouldn’t hassle her if she had a lawyer with her.”
Zack said, “Are they still at the condo?”
“Yes. They’re on the lower level. There’s a workout room and spa down there, but the spa doesn’t open until later, so there’s no one around yet. There are police at the entrance and on the side of the building where Gabe is, so Vale suggested we use the delivery doors at the rear of the building. She has an access card, and she’ll meet us there.”
“Depending on the roads, I should be there in fifteen minutes,” Zack said.
“I’m going with you, Dad,” Taylor said.
“I’m coming too,” I said. “If we get stuck, Taylor and I can shovel.”
* * *
—
Zack had been a trial lawyer for almost three decades. Like most trial lawyers, he hadn’t made many friends in the police department. Debbie Haczkewicz was the exception. When Debbie’s son, Leo, was in a motorcycle accident that left him a paraplegic, he was despondent. Debbie credited Zack with showing her son that, while he would have to alter his life plans, he still had a life. Leo had become an ESL teacher, moved to Japan, married a colleague, and he and his wife had two little boys. Debbie was grateful.
During Zack’s tenure as mayor, Debbie had served as chief of police, but she missed the camaraderie of her old job, and when a position opened in her former division, Major Crimes, she took it. That morning after Zack convinced her Lizzie would either take off or clam up if she had to face an officer without his support, Debbie agreed to give him a twenty-minute head start and that included travel time. We made it in ten.
Police cruisers were still arriving, but uniformed officers had already blocked off the semicircular driveway that led to the main entrance of the building. I dropped off Zack and Taylor at the delivery entrance and searched for a parking space. When I returned, Vale met me at the door.
She was composed as she moved forward to greet me. Whatever she was feeling about Gabe Vickers’s death was hidden beneath years of training.
Her voice was controlled and expressive. “Thank you for coming,” she said.
“I’m glad you called,” I said.
“Zack tells me that we don’t have much time, so please just follow me. Lizzie refuses to get in the elevator, so we’re meeting down here. I should warn you, she’s not in great shape, so don’t push her too hard.”
Lizzie was sitting on a black minimalist modular sofa outside the dimly lit spa. Vale sat down next to her, and Zack wheeled over to be close to them. Two white minimalist modular chairs faced the sofa. Taylor was in one, and I took the other. The chairs were as uncomfortable as they looked. Obviously, visitors were not encouraged to dally.
The contrast between Vale and Lizzie, side by side on the sofa, struck me hard. Vale’s shoulder-length auburn hair was silky, her skin dewy, her brilliantly blue-green eyes clear. Every inch of her carefully nurtured body proclaimed that she was a highly valued young woman. Lizzie’s brutally hacked black hair; her blotchy sallow complexion; her deeply shadowed, haunted eyes; and her rail-thin body sent a message that was equally clear: this was a throwaway girl. She and Vale had travelled along very different roads to reach that moment on the lower level of the shining condominium, and yet they had faced the same demons.
Zack had already begun talking to Lizzie. As she gazed at Zack, Lizzie’s eyes were narrow and frightened, but Zack was reassuring. “As I’ve already said, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He took Lizzie’s hand. “If we play fair with the police, they’ll play fair with us. Tell them everything. Don’t hide anything. They always find out the truth and it’s better if they find it out from us. If the situation gets too much for you, tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”
She nodded.
Zack texted Debbie and turned back to Lizzie. “Inspector Haczkewicz is on her way.” Lizzie’s hand tightened around his. Her nails were bitten to the quick. Zack’s voice was gentle. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Lizzie.”
“You don’t know what I did before…”
“What happened in the past doesn’t really matter now,” Zack said. “What matters is that you’re helping the police. Debbie knows that. She’s not going to hassle you.”
* * *
—
Inspector Haczkewicz was wearing a hooded black fleece anorak and black ski pants. She was tall with a thick, energetic frame and a determined strid
e. Even in street clothes she exuded authority, but her smile as she introduced herself to Lizzie was warm.
Taylor stood so Debbie could sit to interview Lizzie. Inspector Haczkewicz was old school. She used a coiled paper notebook, and as Lizzie delivered her account of discovering Gabe Vickers’s body in a breathless, childlike voice, Debbie’s pen flew.
When Lizzie finished, Debbie sat back in her chair. “Thank you,” she said. “That was very helpful. Just one more thing.” Her voice became low, almost hypnotic. “Lizzie, I’d like you to close your eyes, and picture in your mind exactly what happened when you went outside and found Mr. Vickers.”
“Zack says I don’t have to talk about what happened before,” Lizzie’s voice was wavering towards hysteria.
“Zack’s right,” Debbie said reassuringly. “Just try to remember everything you saw and heard during those first moments when you went outside. Don’t rush.”
Obedient as a docile child, Lizzie shut her eyes. Her body, which had never stopped trembling during the interview, grew still, and her face relaxed. Finally, she began to speak. Her account didn’t vary appreciably from what she’d said earlier. When she’d finished, Debbie replaced the lid on her pen, stood, zipped her anorak, and turned to Lizzie. “Thank you very much,” she said. “What you’ve told me could be very helpful.”
As soon as Debbie left the room, Zack picked up his phone. I could see the tension in the set of his shoulders, and instinct told me to get the girls out of the way. “None of us has had breakfast,” I said. “Why don’t you three go to that café across the street and get something to eat. Zack has some calls to make and we’ll join you after he’s finished.”
I walked the girls to the delivery door; when I returned, Zack was still on the phone. “Well, thanks,” he said. “I’ll give you my number again. Make sure he calls me when he gets back, but if he’s not back in an hour, please let me know.”