‘Great,’ Will said. ‘That’s just, well, great.’
‘Dad?’
‘Yeah, honey?’
‘You’re sweating.’
‘No I’m not.’
Detta crossed the room, sat down in front of the laptop.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ she said. ‘I have some shopping to do.’
43
Ivy decided on a full breakfast at Coffee Nook. She bought a newspaper, but left it unread. Her mind was filled with the new developments on what was now a homicide.
As she finished her meal, she sensed someone standing to the left of her table. She looked up. It was Will Hardy. She was going to find a way to call him today. Fate had intervened.
Ivy decided to take it as a sign.
‘Dr Hardy,’ she said. ‘Good morning.’
‘Will, please,’ he said. ‘Good morning to you.’
Ivy gestured to the chair. ‘Join me.’
‘Thanks.’
‘How is the furniture working out?’
‘Really well,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe I got it so cheaply. Thanks again for the help.’
‘I love working a room like that.’
They talked weather, the change of the seasons, the progress being made at Godwin Hall, the upcoming festivals. When the conversation slowed, Ivy said:
‘I have to confess I looked you up on the internet. Occupational hazard.’
Will smiled. ‘I understand.’
‘So, you’re a criminal psychologist?’
‘A forensic psychologist, really. The sexy Hollywood term is profiler, but I haven’t really done much of that. Not for a while, anyway. I taught at NYU right up until the move here.’
‘I saw that you worked with NYPD.’
‘I did. Many times. I’ve also done a lot of work with correctional facilities, jury selection, competency evaluations.’
Ivy had wrestled with the idea since the man sat down at her table. In truth, she’d thought about it since she’d read about his bona fides.
She told Will the basics of the new case. She left out her theories. For the moment.
‘I saw that on the news,’ Will said. ‘I didn’t realize it was so close. I’m not yet too familiar with the geography here.’
‘The girl was no more than fifteen or sixteen,’ Ivy said.
‘Can I help in any way?’
‘With the case, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘I have a good bit of experience in this. I did some work with NYPD helping them draw up interview guidelines.’
‘It wouldn’t be an imposition?’
‘Not at all,’ Will said. ‘I’ve got nothing scheduled all morning.’
‘It wouldn’t be in any official capacity, of course.’
‘So, I don’t get a badge?’
‘I’ll see what I can rustle up.’
Ivy gave it one last thought, trying to find a reason not to take the man up on his generous offer, one she’d hoped would be presented.
She found none.
They’d taken just a few steps toward the porch when the front door opened. The house was a rambling, ivied colonial set back a hundred feet from the road.
In the doorway stood Bianca Woodruff. Bianca was in her forties, thin and angular. On this day she wore a green kimono and a lavender turban-style hair scarf. Bianca, who began life as Andy Woodruff, lived on the outskirts of Abbeville, just inside the Cuyahoga County line.
Ivy had gone to school with Andy Woodruff, whose father used to beat his son senseless every month or two. For a while it looked like the man waited for Andy’s bruises to heal before he tore back into him, like the boy couldn’t be seen in the man’s presence without looking like he’d paid the price for not being the son he wanted. He put Andy in the hospital more than a few times.
Denny Woodruff got paid back in full when he stepped up to someone his own size at a bar in Richfield. Died face down in the rain.
In the last few years Bianca had begun to take in the runaways, the strays. When they couldn’t find shelter, when there was nowhere else to go, Bianca gave them refuge. But they could not stay long, and there were rules. No drugs, no tricks, no drama.
‘As I stand and faint,’ Bianca said. ‘Miss Ivy Lee Holgrave.’
As she got closer Ivy saw that, beneath the housecoat, Bianca wore a New York Dolls Immaculate Conception T-shirt.
‘Bianca, this is Will Hardy. He’s brand new to Abbeville.’
They shook hands. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘You as well,’ Will said.
‘Is this a porch visit or a parlor visit?’ Bianca asked Ivy.
‘Parlor. Do you have a few moments?’
‘For you, always.’ Bianca opened the door fully, stepped to the side.
Ivy had not been inside this house in five years or more, and she was all but certain not a single thing had been moved. The décor was a pastiche of Norma Desmond meets Pee-Wee Herman: rattan furniture, porcelains, Japanese fans.
‘How’s your mother, Ivy?’
‘Still taking names,’ Ivy said. ‘Thanks for asking.’
‘She a good woman, your Ivy June. Always treated me with respect. Even back when I was acting out.’
‘She’s a rare and precious jewel.’
Bianca straightened her kimono. ‘So, what’s up, Ivy? You’ve got that cop look today.’
‘I need to know if you’ve seen a girl. Around sixteen, dark long hair, petite, maybe one hundred pounds.’
Ivy reached into her folder, removed the photograph she had printed at the station. It was a close-up of the victim. The picture revealed the victim’s face, but nothing else. She handed it to Bianca.
‘Oh, my,’ Bianca said.
‘Do you recognize her?’
Bianca nodded, tears brimming her eyes. ‘I do.’
Ivy took out her notepad. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Josie,’ she said. ‘Josefina.’
‘Do you know her last name?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘We don’t press the kids. They have enough problems.’
‘How did you come to meet her?’
Bianca grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table, dabbed her eyes. ‘One of the girls here, LaChelle, I think, brought her here one night.’
‘Is LaChelle here now?’
‘Yes,’ Bianca said.
‘Could we speak with her?’
‘Of course. Chelle?’
A few seconds later a young girl came around the corner from the kitchen, drying her hands with a dish towel. She was about seventeen, and about seven months pregnant. Bianca made the introductions.
‘They want to ask you a few questions about Josie.’
The girl continued to worry the edge of the dish towel. ‘Something happened to Josie?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Ivy said. ‘We’re just gathering information at the moment. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?’
The girl nodded.
Ivy glanced at Will. He picked right up on the idea that the girl would be probably more comfortable talking to someone not in a police uniform.
‘How long have you known Josefina?’ Will asked.
‘A month, maybe. Then some.’
‘Do you know her last name?’
The girl shook her head.
‘Where did you meet her?’
‘Up at the mall. Belden Village.’
‘Was she working there, or just hanging out?’
‘Hanging out. She was all by herself. She looked pretty sad, so I just talked to her.’
‘Talked to her about what?’
‘I don’t know. Things. Boys and such. She told me she was living with her grandfather because her mom had taken sick, and she couldn’t take care of her. Said her mama was on the hospice care.’
‘What about her grandfather? Did she ever say who he was or where he lived?’
Another shake of the head. ‘No. She said she was liv
ing with her aunt and uncle for a while, but she didn’t like them.’
‘Did she tell you what that was all about?’
‘Not really. She said her uncle was always trying to get her alone.’
‘Did Josefina say she had ever reported her uncle to the authorities?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. We had some talks and such, but I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk too much about that. Her uncle, I mean.’
‘How did she come to stay here?’ Will asked.
The girl shot a glance at Bianca. Bianca nodded.
‘I told her about this place. About Bianca and everything. I don’t always do it with the lost kids, but like I said, she was pretty sad.’
Bianca said, ‘I told her when she got here, like I tell all the kids, somebody has to know they’re here.’
‘You mean like a family member or something?’ Ivy asked.
‘Yeah. I don’t need any trouble from higher powers, if you know what I mean. If someone knows that you’re staying here, then implicit consent is given. As you know, we are not a safe house. We get no money from the county.’
‘And you say that she told family members she was here?’ Ivy asked.
‘That’s what she said. I take the kids at their word.’
‘While she was here were there any incidents? Any drama?’
‘Nothing that I heard or witnessed,’ Bianca said. ‘She was pretty quiet. Just a fawn. She took my heart.’
They turned back to the girl. Will continued.
‘Did she tell you anything about what might’ve been going on in her life outside of her home situation? Work or school or anything like that?’
‘I remember that she told me that she volunteered at a shelter.’
‘Did she say which one?’
‘No. But she said she did it because her mama was on food stamps and Medicaid and such. Felt like it was something she could do to help other folks.’
There were five or six shelters in Holland County. As Josefina didn’t have a car, and there wasn’t a lot of public transportation in the county, the two shelters that were in walking or hitchhiking distance were probably the ones.
‘When was the last time you saw Josie?’ Ivy asked Bianca.
‘A month ago. She just didn’t show up for a few days and I figured she had gone back to live with her mother or her grandfather. I keep tabs on the kids when I can, but there’s been a lot of kids over the last five years and some just slip into the ether. I just hope and pray for the best for them. As soon as you turn around there’s another face in the rain.’
‘Did she leave anything here?’ Ivy asked. ‘Any clothing or personal items?’
‘She left some clothes,’ LaChelle said.
‘Can you show them to me?’
LaChelle again looked to Bianca, who again nodded.
The girl went up the steps to the second floor. A few moments later she returned with a pair of jeans, and two sweaters. She handed them to Ivy.
‘Thanks,’ Ivy said.
Ivy went through the clothing. In one of the jeans pockets was a still-wrapped cherry cough drop and a red elastic hair band. The other pockets were empty. One of the sweaters was a crew neck pullover. The other was a hoodie with two pockets. Ivy could feel something hard in one of the pockets.
Inside was a heart shaped piece of plastic with writing on it. It said, Thank You, Volunteers! March 2–4. Beneath that was a logo with which Ivy was familiar.
Calvary House.
Ivy held up the chip. ‘And you’re sure this belonged to Josefina?’
‘I don’t know for sure. I’ve never seen that before. But that’s her hoodie.’
‘I’ll need to take these things with me,’ Ivy said. ‘Is that okay?’
Bianca nodded.
Ivy reached into her shoulder bag, took out a large paper evidence bag. She put the clothing inside.
As LaChelle returned to the kitchen, Ivy and Will and Bianca walked to the front door.
‘If you think of anything else, give me a call,’ Ivy said.
‘Of course.’
Ivy lingered for a moment. ‘Thanks for your help.’
Bianca gathered the top of her kimono together. ‘You know you are always welcome here, Ivy,’ she said. ‘Sorry it had to be like this today.’
‘If there’s anything I can do.’
‘You don’t happen to have a few dozen cases of Kleenex, do you? We use a lot of Kleenex around here.’
Ivy smiled. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
44
Calvary House was a nine-bed facility run by the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor. It had been in continuous operation for more than thirty years, providing a transitional home for women who were victims of domestic abuse.
Ivy was told by the receptionist that the director of the facility, Sister Della Marie, was not on the grounds. The woman pointed to the dining hall, where they met a woman named Rebecca Taylor. Rebecca was one of the women staying at the shelter, a den mother of sorts.
Rebecca Taylor was in her late thirties, a brunette with cautious brown eyes. Ivy introduced herself and Will, showed the woman her ID. Ivy asked if the woman remembered a girl, a volunteer named Josefina.
‘I remember her very well,’ she said. As she talked she folded and stacked bed linens on one of the tables. ‘I hope she’s not in any kind of trouble.’
‘We’re just gathering some information at this point.’
‘I’ll be happy to tell you what I know,’ she said. She grabbed a stack of sheets and pillowcases off the table. ‘If you don’t mind me doing some housekeeping while we talk.’
‘Not at all,’ Ivy said.
She led Ivy and Will to the stairs at the end of the hall. They walked up to the second floor. At the top step Rebecca stopped, called out.
‘Man on the floor! Man on the floor!’
After a full minute or so, they continued.
Ahead was a long corridor with bedrooms on the right and left side, a bathroom at each end. They entered the first bedroom on the left. It contained a single bed, a dresser, and a chair. Above the bed was a framed painting of St Francis.
As they talked Rebecca began to strip the bed. Ivy pitched in, and Will interviewed the woman.
‘What can you tell us about Josie’s time here?’ Will asked.
‘She wasn’t here all that long. Maybe three months total, and then just part time.’
‘Is there anyone she was particularly close to here?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘What was she like?’
‘She was a good kid. Nice and respectful. None of the sass you usually get from kids her age.’
‘Did she ever talk about any abuse she may have suffered at home? Altercations or problems she may have had at her school before she left? Anything like that?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Nothing like that. But I had the feeling she was holding something in. She never said what it was, and I didn’t press her.’
‘What about the men?’
‘What men?’
‘Any of the men on staff here,’ Will said. ‘Counselors, therapists, social workers.’
‘The only man who comes here regularly is Dr Chambliss, and he’s over seventy. The women here think of him as their father or grandfather. In a kindly way, I might add. There’s a special place in heaven for Dr Chambliss. Can’t imagine he gets paid much, if anything at all. Might be pro . . . ’
‘Pro bono?’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘That.’
‘Did Josie ever talk about people outside this facility? Girlfriends, boyfriends, significant others?’
‘Now that you mention it, I did see her once.’
‘See her do what?’
As they finished making the bed, Rebecca walked over to the window. She pointed. ‘Josie was on her break. She always had a cigarette when she was on her break. We all tried to get her to quit. But she would just look at the lot of us – the sorry state of us –
more or less telling us we had no room to talk. She was right, of course.’
‘What was she doing that day?’
‘She was standing down by the gate over there. The one that leads to the walk and the path over to the river. Through those trees.’
‘And she was with someone?’
‘Yes. She was with a boy.’
‘Do you know the boy she was with?’
‘No. I don’t know him.’
‘White kid, black? Tall, short?’
‘He was white, tall, had kind of a mop of brown hair. Good posture.’
‘Good posture?’
‘You know how kids that age are always slouching? This kid was not. He had his shoulders squared. Maybe he was an athlete, or maybe spent some time in military school. Maybe even a dancer.’
Ivy made the note. She would check the local school sports teams and their rosters.
‘And you’re saying he didn’t look familiar to you in any way?’ Will asked. ‘Like someone who has done some work around here? Landscaping, deliveries, something like that?’
‘No. I didn’t recognize him at all. But then again, they were pretty far away.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘Not long before she stopped coming around. Maybe a month ago.’
‘Did you ever see this boy again?’
‘No,’ Rebecca said. ‘I just saw him one time.’
‘Do you think anyone here would know Josefina’s last name?’ Ivy asked.
‘She never told me. Even amongst ourselves we tend to go by our first names. It’s a habit, I guess. Some of us are short timers, and a lot of us unfortunately took a man’s last name. That’s something a lot of us are here to shed.’
Ivy just nodded.
‘As to the girl’s last name, Sister Della Marie might know.’
Ivy took out her card case, handed a card to the woman. ‘Could you ask her to call me as soon as possible? It’s important.’
Rebecca took the card, pocketed it. In her eyes Ivy could see that she understood that whatever had led a police officer to her door on this day was bad. She didn’t ask, perhaps to shield herself from any more heartache.
They sat in silence in the small parking lot behind the station. Before long, Walt Barnstable pulled into the lot. His shift started in just a few minutes.
‘Thanks again for today, Will. It really helped.’
Murder Scene Page 20