by Marti Green
“How long do you think it’ll take you to get back home?”
More static and then, “Three more hours.”
“I’ll be waiting here for you.”
Why did good news and bad news always come together? It seemed miraculous that Tommy had found Sunshine Harrington, but now she had to wait three precious hours for a DNA sample.
She thanked Leanne and headed back to the HIPP office, stopping along the way at the corner delicatessen to pick up a coffee and a Danish. She went into Bruce’s office and sat down.
“Tommy found Sunshine Harrington.”
Bruce’s face broke out into a wide grin. “Did she give him a swab for DNA?”
“Let me rephrase. He found where she lives. I just got back from there. Tommy’s on his way back from Minnesota.”
“Minnesota? When did he go out there?”
“I don’t know the details. He called earlier and gave me her address. I haven’t made contact yet. Sunshine’s on her way back from a vacation. And naturally stuck in traffic on the LIE. She doesn’t expect to be back here for another three hours.” A seventy-one-mile highway between Manhattan and Riverhead, the gateway to the Hamptons, the Long Island Expressway was often referred to as “the Long Island Distressway.” Bumper stickers attesting to the travails of traveling the roadway were rampant. Melanie’s favorite was “I drive the LIE. Please pray for me.”
“Will it be enough for the governor if we produce Sunshine without DNA proof that she’s Angelina?” Bruce asked.
“Dani has an affidavit from Jody, the nurse who put us on to her, and another from Dr. Jeffreys saying their medical histories match. Maybe that’ll be enough.”
“Does Dani know about Sunshine?”
“I don’t know. Tommy called me right away so I could get over to her apartment.”
“Call Dani. She needs to get in touch with the governor’s chief of staff and give him a heads-up on our progress, smooth the way for at least postponing the execution until the testing comes back. I’ll call the lab and make sure they’ll stay late for us.”
It took twenty minutes for Dani to reach the phone. Once again, Coates sent a guard to bring her from George Calhoun’s cell to the warden’s office.
“Dani, have you spoken to Tommy today?” Melanie asked when she picked up the phone.
“No. Did he learn anything? Did the mailman come through?”
“I don’t know how he got it, but Tommy called me this morning with Sunshine’s address, and I’ve been to her apartment. She’s right here in Manhattan. The bad news is she’s not at home. But I talked to her and she’ll be back around 2:30. And get this—she lives just a few blocks from HIPP.”
“No! Are you serious? She was right in our backyard all along?”
“Yep.”
“I think I’m numb from shock.”
“Listen, will producing her be enough for the governor? I don’t think it’s possible to run DNA before midnight.”
The lab had already run a DNA swab from Calhoun. Now they just needed a sample from Sunshine to confirm she was his daughter. Because of backlogs, DNA testing in a crime lab could take anywhere from weeks to months, but the process itself was quick. Depending on the equipment, preliminary results could be gotten in as little as twelve hours or as many as thirty-six. HIPP had an arrangement with a private lab. If results needed to be expedited, the lab accommodated.
“All Guidry said to me was that they need a body. I’ll give him a call right now. And Melanie?”
“Yes?”
“When you meet with Sunshine, be gentle. This has got to be a shock for her.”
“I think it’s going to be a shock for a lot of people.”
CHAPTER
36
Dani called Joe Guidry and the words rushed out of her mouth like a swirling tornado. “We’ve found her, Angelina Calhoun. We can prove she’s not the girl found murdered. You can’t let the execution go forward. He’s innocent, just as we’ve said.”
“Whoa. Slow down. You have someone who claims to be Angelina Calhoun?”
“No, not exactly. She probably has no memory of her first few years. But you’ve seen the affidavit from that nurse at the Mayo Clinic. And we’ve gotten word from the doctor who treated Sunshine Harrington that her medical records match Angelina Calhoun’s.”
“So you have Sunshine Harrington.”
“Yes, sort of. She’s on her way home. She lives in New York, just two blocks from our office. Isn’t that incredible? My associate spoke to her and she’s waiting at her apartment.”
“That’s all interesting, but without DNA, how can you be certain they’re the same person.”
“Well, we can’t, of course. Not a hundred percent. But how could the governor let an execution go forward now? You have to give us time to get the DNA tested.”
“How much time?”
“One more week. That should do it.”
“I’ll have to get back to you.”
Dani gave him the phone number for the warden’s office. She was torn between waiting for Joe’s call and going back to the cell to let George know the latest development. She decided to wait. She didn’t want to raise George’s hopes only to deflate them if they didn’t get the extra time. She went outside the office to let Coates know she was off the phone.
“So, what’s the story?” he asked.
“We found a woman we believe is George’s daughter, Angelina. That means the little girl found in the woods is someone else and George didn’t kill her.”
Coates went into his office and sat at his desk. He motioned for Dani to take a seat across from him. “So, does this mean the governor will stop the execution?”
“I’m waiting to hear back from her.”
The warden opened his bottom right desk drawer, thumbed through some files and pulled two out. “These are the reasons I was happy George Calhoun contacted you.” He placed both folders in front of Dani. “Both of these men were on death row in this prison. The first one, Johnny Tubbs, was before my time here. He’d been convicted on eyewitness testimony. His attorney came from the public defender’s office, a kid still wet behind the ears. He never investigated Tubbs’s alibi, never examined the prosecution’s evidence. After a two-day trial, the jury sentenced Tubbs to die. He spent five years on death row. The kid was lucky, though. Two weeks before his execution date, some good-hearted attorney who’d volunteered his time got Tubbs a stay, then a new trial. He showed that none of the prosecution’s evidence supported Tubbs as the perpetrator. If this attorney hadn’t taken on Tubbs’s case, Indiana would have executed an innocent man.” Coates pointed to the second file. “Carl Jones. I was already working here, assigned to death row. Carl had been on death row fifteen years by the time I arrived. He was a quiet man, meek almost. He’d been convicted of murdering a shop owner and customer in the course of a robbery. When decent lawyers got involved, they were able to show that the witnesses against him had lied. Jones came within two days of execution before he got a stay and retrial. If a lawyer hadn’t believed in him, it would’ve been my job to walk him to the room where he’d get a lethal injection. I would have been escorting an innocent man to his death. That’s a hard thing for a man to live with. So”—he took a deep breath—“you and I are on the same page now. I’d welcome the governor calling and telling me to hold off so you can get your testing done. Like I told you the first time we spoke, I like a man to get every chance possible to prove he’s innocent.”
Just as the warden finished, his phone rang. He answered it and handed it to Dani. “Joe Guidry,” he whispered.
“Joe, give me some good news.”
“I’m just calling to let you know I haven’t been able to reach the governor yet. She’s been tied up in a meeting. I had a note sent in to her, but she hasn’t come out yet. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be, and I di
dn’t want you waiting around without knowing what’s happening.”
“Thanks, Joe. Call me as soon as you know something.”
It didn’t make sense to continue to wait in the warden’s office. Dani thanked him for the use of his office and followed a guard back to George’s cell.
He sat on his bed and stood quickly when he saw her. “Anything?” he asked.
“We’ve found your daughter.”
George sat down again, placed his hands over his face and rocked back and forth. When he finally stopped and looked up at Dani, she saw that his cheeks were tear-stained.
“She’s alive,” George whispered. “My angel is alive.”
Dani hated to give him bad news right now, but she had to. “I don’t know whether this is sufficient for the governor without the DNA. I’m waiting to hear back from her. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
George stood again and paced. “She has to give me time. I thought it would be enough just to know she’s alive, but it’s not. I want to see my daughter. I want to hold her in my arms.”
Dani nodded. Of course he did. He’d sacrificed so much for this child. She reached out and took his hands. This man had endured seventeen years of isolation, almost twenty years of not knowing if he’d made the right decision, twenty years of silence about that decision. Was he wrong to risk a death sentence for only the smallest possibility of saving his daughter? Dani didn’t know what she would have done. She only knew that George deserved to see the results of that decision. He deserved to be part of Sunshine’s life.
“There’s something else, George. You have a granddaughter. She’s just about three years old.”
George fell back onto his bed and began to cry again. Dani sat next to him and they waited together for the governor’s call.
An hour later, Dani was summoned again to the warden’s office. The phone was off the hook, waiting for her, and the office was empty. She picked it up, expecting to hear Joe’s voice, and was surprised to hear a woman speak.
“Ms. Trumball, this is Governor Timmons. Joe has filled me in on your request for a stay and your reasons for believing Mr. Calhoun is innocent. Frankly, it seems rather tenuous. It seems a leap to go from a nurse harboring suspicions about the appearance of a daughter in her colleague’s life to assuming that girl is Angelina Calhoun.”
“Madame Governor, the girl’s medical records are the same as Angelina’s.”
“Isn’t leukemia the most common cancer in young children?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cut you off, but I’ve left an important meeting that I have to get back to. The bottom line is I’m not convinced you’ve given me enough to postpone the execution.”
“But DNA testing would be conclusive. Then there’d be no doubt.”
“If it comes back the way you think it would. If it doesn’t, the state would have postponed the execution a second time, at considerable expense.”
“Please, Madame Governor,” Dani begged, struggling to hold back tears. “We just need a little more time.”
There was silence for a few seconds. “Executions are mandated to take place before 6 a.m. The practice has been to conduct them just after midnight. I’ll instruct the warden to hold off until 5:50. Get your DNA proof before then. That’s all I can give you.”
“Thank you, Madame Governor.”
Dani hung up the phone and sat down, stunned by the governor’s decision. Now she had to go back downstairs and face George.
CHAPTER
37
By 3:00, Sunshine still hadn’t shown up. Melanie had made herself comfortable sitting on the floor in front of her door, but now her legs were starting to cramp. She stood and looked at her watch once more. She had to stop that. Checking so often wasn’t going to make the minutes move any faster.
She’d heard from Dani. They had only until sunrise to get her DNA run. Bruce had worked his magic with the guys from the lab. They’d stay all night to work on it. But first they needed to get it. And for that they needed Sunshine.
Twenty minutes later she heard the elevator door open. Walking toward her was a blond woman, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her red cheeks looked like two apples, and her slate-blue eyes were fringed with thick brown lashes. The little girl holding her hand looked like a carbon copy of Angelina Calhoun at the same age.
“Ms. Quinn? Sorry we’re so late. Traffic was impossible.” She introduced her family and unlocked their apartment door. “Please, come in.” The family walked inside and Melanie followed. “Let me get Rachel settled and then we can talk.” She took the little girl into the kitchen, removed a bottle of apple juice from the refrigerator, and poured it into a sippy cup. “Eric, would you take Rachel into our room and turn on the TV for her?”
“Sure.”
Sunshine turned back to Melanie. “Please sit,” she said, pointing to a chair. She sat down on the sofa across from her. “So, what’s the big emergency?”
Melanie didn’t know how to start. This woman had grown up believing her parents were the Harringtons. How could she tell her that everything she knew had been built on a lie? Maybe if she’d had more time she could have brought someone with her, someone more adept at easing into the truth. “Mrs. Bergman—”
“Please, call me Sunny.”
“Sunny, there’s a man on death row who’s going to be given a lethal injection just before 6:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. He was convicted of murdering his daughter, a four-year-old girl named Angelina Calhoun. From the very beginning, he’s always claimed that the body of the child they found wasn’t his daughter. I’m telling you this because…we believe you’re Angelina Calhoun.”
Sunny sat before her in stunned silence, her hands gripping each other.
“I know this is hard to take in,” Melanie continued, her voice soft. “But the only way to stop the execution this coming morning is to take a DNA sample from you and have it tested.”
Sunny shook her head, her hands still locked together. “Why are you saying this? My parents were Ed and Trudy Harrington.”
“Those were the folks that raised you. But we don’t believe they’re your biological parents.”
Hugging herself, Sunny began to rock and stared at the floor. “No, no, no,” she said over and over.
“Do you remember being sick as a child?” Melanie asked.
Her rocking stopped and she became still. Sunny looked up at Melanie and whispered, “Yes.”
“You had leukemia. Your biological parents tried to get medical care for you. At first they were able to, but then the leukemia came back. You needed a bone-marrow transplant, but they had no insurance and no one would treat you.”
“I remember being in the hospital. I remember how much it hurt.”
“You would probably have died if you didn’t get treatment. Your parents loved you very much, so much that they made the ultimate sacrifice. They brought you to the Mayo Clinic and left you there, hoping that the county would take you in and get you the help that they couldn’t provide. They need your help now.”
Tears rolled down Sunny’s cheeks. Eric walked back into the living room, sat next to Sunny, and put his arm around her. Sunny lay her head on Eric’s chest and sobbed. He held her tightly. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Sunny lifted her head, wiped away her tears, and recounted what Melanie had told her.
“Why Sunny?” Eric asked Melanie. “Why would you think it’s her and not some other child treated at the Mayo Clinic?”
“There’s no time to go into the complete investigation. We’ve got to get a DNA sample to the lab right away. But I’ll tell you this—your daughter is the spitting image of Angelina Calhoun at age three.”
Sunny slumped back on the couch. “What do I have to do?”
“I’ll just take a swab of the inside of your cheek. That
’s all. And then I’ll bring it to the lab. DNA is exact. It’ll tell us definitively whether you’re Angelina Calhoun.”
Sunny nodded. “Okay. You can take it. But this man, this man you say is my father—”
“I can tell you all about him and your mother too, but later. If I don’t get to the lab fast, then—well, I just need to get there.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Melanie took out a swab kit, scraped the inside of Sunny’s cheek and carefully placed the buccal swab in a plastic baggie. She said goodbye and then sprinted down the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. She grabbed a cab to take her to the lab’s midtown office and arrived just before 3:30.
“Got it,” she said to Stan, the technician waiting for her at the front desk. “Can it be done? Can you get results by 5:00 a.m.?”
“It’ll be tight. We should be able to get preliminary results at least.”
Melanie put in a call to Dani to let her know the lab had gotten the sample. There was nothing left for her to do. Nothing but wait.
Sunny went through the motions of making dinner, still numb from the bombshell that had exploded in her living room. How could this be? Yet she knew it was true. The absence of any pictures of her as a baby and a toddler now made sense. Instead of inspiring anger toward the parents who raised her—anger that they’d kept this secret from her—Melanie’s revelation intensified her love for the Harringtons. They had taken in a desperately sick child and loved her as if she were their own. But her biological parents? She didn’t know how she felt about them.
“Are you okay, honey?” Eric asked as he came into the kitchen. He’d been asking her the same question every fifteen minutes.
“I’m not sure.” She held out her hand to show that it was shaking. “How am I supposed to feel about my parents? The ones who left me?”
“I don’t think there’s any one way you’re supposed to feel about them. And there’s no reason for you to figure out now how you do feel. Give it time; let it sink in.”
“But that woman—she said my father will be executed in the morning. Because of me. Because they think he killed me.”