“But can you at least tell me if she’s talking to you about it?” Amanda asked, both understanding and at the same time hating the rules of confidentiality by which the therapist was bound.
“A little, but not in any great detail,” was the maddeningly vague response.
When court recessed for the day, Amanda returned to her office, where she spent a half hour attending to other business, then turned her attention to Jesse once again. Among the messages on her desk was one from Michael, asking that she have him paged. But she ignored it for the time being and considered her sister’s situation.
The best way to help Jesse at this point would be to take the burden off her, to find another way to get the information that was tearing her apart.
She was more and more convinced that the mysterious woman who had once been a madam and a conduit for drugs to kids like Jesse held the key. If Jesse knew something about Eve’s death, it was almost certainly through her contacts with that woman.
Amanda had heard nothing more from Tina or from Mary Walters, who’d promised to ask her assistant, Elaine Barker, if she knew the woman’s name.
Her lawyer’s mind went to work. Maybe she could now use her sister’s condition as a wedge to pry that information out of Tina. She thought it was possible that Mary knew who she was—or that Elaine knew—but Tina seemed to be her best bet. She supposed that she should feel guilty about using Jesse’s illness so crassly, but it was for her own good.
She reached for the phone, then pulled back. It would be better to go see Tina in person, and she should be home by now. She glanced briefly at the pink message slip with Michael’s name on it, and a little warmth seeped into her as she remembered his kindness and gentleness with Jesse last night—not to mention with her.
Sometime, when all this was over, perhaps she’d have time to reflect on just how remarkable it all was: that the dangerous boy from the Bottom who’d been the object of a young girl’s fantasies had now become the man with whom she intended to spend the rest of her life.
But she didn’t call him. Instead, she left the office and drove to Tina’s, where she found her preparing dinner for her kids, including a little girl who looked remarkably like her mother.
Tina somewhat hesitantly asked her to join them, and then, when Amanda explained that she’d only gotten around to eating lunch a half hour ago, she said that perhaps they could have some wine while the children ate. Amanda accepted, and they moved to the tiny living room while the children ate in the kitchen and watched cartoons on a small TV mounted under the cabinets.
Amanda told her about Jesse, sparing no details when she described her sister’s condition. “I’m certain that she knows something about Eve’s death—and so is her husband. But whatever it is, she can’t bring herself to talk about it. Her therapist says that’s why she’s in this state. The only way I can think of to help her is to find another way to get the information she has. That would take the burden off her.”
“You want her name,” Tina said softly when she had finished.
“Yes. My guess is that Jesse was getting drugs through her, and that she somehow found out something about Eve that way.” She paused.
“Look, this woman—whoever she is—can’t be in any legal trouble now, unless she killed Eve herself.”
“Oh, no, I’m sure she didn’t.” Tina protested.
“Then the only thing she could be charged with is being an accessory, having knowledge of a crime. But if she helps by coming forth, she won’t be charged.”
“I don’t think she knew anything,” Tina said. “I’m sure she just thought what I did—that Eve had gone down to the city.”
But she knows differently now, Amanda thought, but didn’t say. “Please tell me who she is, Tina. I’ll do my best to protect her.”
“Do you think that your sister will talk about it at some point?” Tina asked.
Amanda nodded. “I think she’ll have to, if she’s going to get over it. But right now, she’s...going through hell.”
“If what she knows is what I’m thinking, she’s been going through hell for a long time,” Tina said quietly, her eyes filling up with tears.
“What do you mean?” Amanda asked, barely getting the words out as a chill gripped her.
Tina shook her head and wiped away the tears. “It’s Elaine Barker.”
“Elaine Barker?” Amanda stared at her in disbelief, then nodded slowly. Yes. Now she understood why everyone, including Jesse, had wanted to protect her. The only person more revered in this struggling community than Elaine was her boss, Mary Walters. And Mary probably knew, too.
Tina nodded. “Not many people know. I only knew because Eve told me. Elaine didn’t live in the Bottom then, like she does now. She grew up down there, but she was living in Parkside then. Her husband just disappeared and left her with three kids to feed.
“I know what she did was really wrong, but I can understand how desperate she must have been. No one could live on what welfare gave you, and she didn’t want to have to move back to the Bottom because of her kids, you know? Her cousin was a big dealer, and that’s how she got into it. The other thing just sort of happened—the girls, I mean. They were all on the street before they started to work for her—including Eve.
“In a way, she made it safer for them, you know?” Tina paused to consider what she’d said. “Except for Eve, I guess.”
Amanda struggled to find something to say that wouldn’t sound condescending. Michael would have understood, she knew. But this was far beyond her ability to comprehend. The biggest choices she’d had to face were where to go to college and law school, then how to structure her career. She’d never had to choose between a life of crime and the well-being of her children.
“She’s made up for it,” Tina insisted, perhaps seeing something on Amanda’s face. “She understands these kids better than their parents do—and she helps them. Isn’t that better than going to prison?”
“Yes, it is,” Amanda said—and meant it. She got rather shakily to her feet.
“I’m going to talk to her, but I won’t tell her who gave me her name. I really appreciate it, Tina.”
She left the apartment as Tina bade her a tearful goodbye. She knew where Elaine lived because she’d driven her home once after a meeting. It wasn’t far. She drove slowly through the busy streets, where everyone was out to take advantage of the pleasant evening. But she saw none of it; instead, she felt as though she were about to be swallowed by an unimaginable darkness.
Elaine’s house was dark. Amanda was certain she had the right house. It was on a short street filled with tiny wood-frame houses that had been built in the twenties or thirties and were now in the process of being rehabilitated. Elaine’s was the most attractive house on the street: freshly painted white, with black trim and window boxes that were filled with pansies at the moment.
She parked at the curb and walked up onto the small porch. Three newspapers lay on the painted wood porch floor, and the top of her mailbox was slightly open because of the quantity of mail inside.
Amanda pressed the doorbell and heard it ring inside, but she was certain that Elaine wasn’t there, and nearly certain that she’d fled because she feared just such a visit
When there was no response, Amanda returned to her car and made a U-turn in the quiet street, then headed toward the community center. It was possible that Elaine might be there, or at the teen shelter next door, but she doubted it. And if she wasn’t there, then Mary probably was.
Amanda was impelled by a need to know the truth. What the cost to her of learning that truth might be didn’t enter into the picture. There was her desire as an officer of the court to see that justice was served, and there was her need to help Jesse by bringing the truth to her as a fait accompli.
All the parking spaces near the community center were taken, but when Amanda arrived, an old station wagon loaded with kids pulled out and she was able to park directly in front of the unattractive yellow bri
ck building that had once been a factory of some type.
Inside, she was greeted by squeals and screams and loud rock music. No one was at the small reception desk, but a tall young man in gym shorts and a T-shirt, wearing a whistle on a chain around his neck, greeted her and asked if he could help her. When she asked if Elaine was there, he shook his head.
“Mary Walters, the director, is here, though. Her office is back there—last door on the left,” He grinned. “As far from the noise as she can get.”
Amanda thanked him, although she already knew where Mary’s office was. In fact, she recalled that Mary had once jokingly threatened to move her office out to the Dumpster in the parking lot to get away from the noise.
The noise faded gradually as she walked back the long hallway to the rear of the building. But before she had quite reached Mary’s office, the door opened and Michael walked out.
Even in her present state of mind, his sudden appearance overwhelmed her, sending a frisson through her body and filling her mind with sensual images. She was faintly embarrassed to realize that he could still affect her that powerfully.
He waited for her, his dark eyes burning into her as she walked toward him. She started to apologize for her failure to return his call, but by then Mary had come to the door, as well, and was greeting her—somewhat warily, she thought
For all that his presence had aroused her, Amanda didn’t want Michael to be there now. There was a lingering trace of reluctance to involve him in this—even though he clearly was involved—but there were also practical considerations. Amanda felt that she stood a better chance of getting the truth out of Mary if Michael wasn’t present.
But Michael made no move to leave, and she couldn’t think of any excuse to get rid of him. After a moment’s awkwardness, she said that she had come to see Mary because she couldn’t find Elaine.
The look that passed briefly over Mary’s face told her that Mary knew exactly why she was seeking Elaine, and she was sure that Michael had caught that expression, as well.
“She’s on vacation,” Mary said. “I finally persuaded her to get away for a while.”
“Do you have a number where I can reach her?” Amanda asked. “It’s really important that I speak with her.”
Mary shook her head. “She’s traveling—visiting family in several places. She’ll be gone for a month. She had four weeks of vacation accumulated.”
Amanda could have accepted that and walked out—and a part of her wanted to do just that. But she thought about Jesse, drugged in a hospital, struggling with herself. She cast a quick look at Michael, who was watching both of them closely.
“Then maybe you can help me. I need to confirm some information I’ve received.”
Mary Walters was not good at dissembling. Her face drained of color and her body stiffened. She shot a quick look at Michael.
“Lieutenant Quinn needs to hear this, as well,” Amanda said. “It concerns a possible murder investigation.”
Mary said nothing, but she stepped back into her office and they both followed her. Michael closed the door behind them. Amanda began as soon as they had all been seated.
“You remember when we talked before that I asked you for the name of a woman who’d been involved with providing drugs to middle-class kids and also with a teenage prostitute ring back in the seventies? We thought she might be able to help us in the Eve Lauden investigation.”
Mary nodded, but still said nothing. If anything, she’d grown even paler and was fidgeting in her chair.
“We also believe that my sister might know something about it. She was involved in drugs herself back then. She’s in the hospital now. We thought that she’d tried to commit suicide. Her therapist says that she’s trying to deal with some terrible secret. She’s in bad shape, Mary.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Jesse’s been a great help to us with the business community.”
Amanda knew that Mary was sincere in her concern for Jesse and she pushed it further. “The only way I can think of to help her is to get at the truth myself. Then she won’t have to carry that burden any longer.
“Today, I received some information—the name of the woman I asked you about. I wanted to see Elaine to confirm it, but since she’s not here, I’m asking you.”
Michael sat in a chair beside her, so she couldn’t see his face. But in her peripheral vision, she could see him turn to her. She kept her gaze fixed on Mary. For a long moment, Mary said nothing. Then, suddenly, she leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily.
“I thought it was only a matter of time until Michael found out. But I hadn’t counted on you being the one to get the information.”
She sighed again. “Yes, it was Elaine. I persuaded her to get away for a while, to think things over. She knew she should go to Michael and tell him what she knew, but she’s terrified of losing everything she’s worked so hard for since then.
“We even talked about sending an anonymous letter to the police, but Elaine said that probably wouldn’t do any good, that you’d need her testimony.”
Mary paused and stared hard at both of them. “She knew nothing about Eve’s death until the body was found. And even then, she wasn’t sure until I spoke to her after we talked. Apparently, she thought just what everyone else did at the time—that Eve had taken off to the city.
“She did say, though, that she was surprised at the time, because Eve was determined to finish school, despite everything else she was doing. She’d even talked about going to college, and apparently she was smart enough to do that. Elaine had real hopes for her, and was disappointed when she disappeared like that.”
“Does Elaine know how Eve could have ended up on the island?” Amanda asked, unaware of the intensity behind her words.
Mary stared at her, then flicked her eyes quickly toward Michael. “She didn’t tell me.”
“But you think she does know?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, I think so.” Mary turned her full attention to Michael. “Do you know how many...innocent people could be hurt by this? It won’t bring Eve back, and it could destroy other lives. Besides, you just told me that you aren’t certain she was murdered, that she could have died as the result of an accident.”
Amanda turned to Michael and saw a muscle twitch along his jaw as he stared at Mary. When he remained silent, she spoke instead.
“We’re both committed to serving justice, Mary. If Eve’s death was an accident, we need to know that. Besides, there’s Jesse to think of.”
“Yes, Jesse,” Mary said with another sigh. “Elaine told me that she did know Jesse briefly back then. She bought her drugs from Elaine’s cousin, through Elaine.”
“So Jesse knows who could have taken Eve to the island,” Amanda said, nearly choking on the words. Jesse’s drug problems had begun before Eve’s murder, but Amanda was now wondering if her knowledge of Eve’s death could be responsible for all that had happened to her since then.
But no, that couldn’t be right. She couldn’t have known that Eve was buried out there, or she would have protested over the cottage. Confusion swarmed over her as Michael stood up.
“Thanks for your help, Mary. I’ll be in touch.”
He reached down to take her arm and help her to her feet, as well, and as Amanda stood up, she saw Mary’s gaze veer from her to Michael and back again, a question in her eyes.
Michael’s arm slid around her waist as they left the office, but Amanda was too lost in her bleak thoughts to notice his confirmation of Mary’s suspicions.
“Tina told you?” Michael asked as they walked out of the center. “I’d planned to go see her next.”
“Yes, she told me. I guess I should feel ashamed of using Jesse like this, but what I said is true. The only way Jesse can heal is if it all comes out in the open.”
She stopped beside her car. “So you were right from the beginning. It was someone from the island.”
“It looks that way,” Michael said, watching her closely. Only some
one who knew her as well as he did would have detected the struggle being waged within her. He wondered what she was thinking, but decided now was not the time to pursue it.
“Have you had dinner? There’s a great little Italian place only a couple of blocks from here that I’ll bet you’ve never been to.”
Rather to his surprise, she managed a smile. “Then you’d be wrong. I’ve been there—with Mary and Elaine.”
They took her car. Michael had left his Porsche in the lot at the restaurant, after being unable to find parking near the center. He watched her as she drove with the intense concentration of someone who knew they probably shouldn’t be driving at all. In fact, he’d fully expected her to refuse his invitation to dinner.
The restaurant was old and more than slightly seedy, but what it lacked in ambience, it more than made up with the quality and the quantity of its food. Michael was greeted with the effusiveness reserved for old friends, which he was. Begenning when he was twelve, the owners had hired him off the books to help out in the kitchen. They’d also fed him, which had mattered even more to a growing and always hungry boy.
They were led to a secluded booth in the rear that was reserved for family, and after recommending to Amanda that she try the chicken piccata, he told her about his connection to the owners.
“I went to school with one of their sons, and when they found out I’d been picked up for shoplifting, Nick decided to do his bit to decrease crime by hiring me—off the books, of course, since I was only twelve.
“But the best thing was the food. It sure beat tuna casserole, which was about the extent of my mother’s cooking—when she cooked at all, that is.” He grinned and shook his head. “I still can’t look at a can of tuna without wanting to gag.”
Amanda laughed, but he could see that she was just being polite. He was searching for another safe topic of conversation when a large, heavy hand laid itself on his shoulder.
“I saw that fine machine of yours out there earlier,” said the beefy, dark-haired man as he looked with interest at Amanda.
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