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Liz wearily let herself into the apartment that evening to find Steve waiting for her.
“Liz! Where have you been? Stacey has been trying to reach you, I’ve been calling you. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“What's going on with your mother? Stacey said one of the nurses called her this morning and told her that you were in there yelling at your mother and she was crying and upset. Stacey went over there and she was still upset. Stacey’s been calling you all day, and she finally started calling me. Where were you?”
“I was at the station.” Liz moved to the bedroom and removed her badge and gun, placing the gun in the lock box she kept in the top of the closet.
“Stacey said she went to the station and they said you weren’t there.”
“I know... I told them to tell her that. I’m not up to dealing with Stacey tonight.”
“Liz... what’s going on? Stacey is furious at you for upsetting your mother.”
“She can ask Mom about it.”
“She has, but she wouldn’t tell her anything.”
“Fine. It’s between Ma and me, anyway. It’s got nothing to do with Stacey.” She kicked off her shoes and began pulling off her work clothes.
“Liz, what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Look, after refusing to see your mother for years, you finally reach out to her and introduce me to her... I thought things were going well between you.”
“So did I.”
“Then what happened?”
Liz, stripped down to her shirt and underwear, carefully hung her pants and jacket in the closet. She turned and looked at her husband. He was watching her with concern in his soft brown eyes. His short dark blond hair was tousled and she wondered if he had run his hands through it in worry as he called and left messages for her. He was six feet tall with a broad chest she loved resting her cheek against. Years of being outdoors had left his face tanned and lined; his jaw square and strong.
She considered telling him what she had found out about her birth, about her parents. Steve was steady and even-tempered, not easily shocked. He would be sympathetic and supportive. She wanted to talk to him, wanted to say aloud the unthinkable twist her life had taken in the last 24 hours. But she couldn’t. It was too new, too raw; there were too many unanswered questions. She had to sort it out herself before she could share it with him, and especially with her sister.
“I can’t talk about it now.”
“Liz... ”
“Steve... please. I'll tell you about it when I can. And I’ll talk to Stacey. But right now it’s something I need to figure out for myself.”
She could see him battling with himself. He wanted to push, wanted to try to force her to talk. However, he knew that would only push her further away. Finally, he nodded.
“OK. I’ll call your sister and ask her to back off for now.”
“Tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about me upsetting Ma again. I won’t be going back over there.”
“Ever?”
Instead of answering, Liz walked over and put her arms around his waist and he hugged her tightly. Liz took a shower, feeling grimy from the day’s discoveries. She assumed Steve called her sister while she was in the bathroom, although he made no mention of it. Neither did he bring up the subject of her strange behavior. He prepared dinner for them, a pasta dish and salad. They spoke very little; eating, washing the dinner dishes, watching a movie on TV. Liz could not have said later what the movie was about; she sat and stared at the screen without focusing on what was happening there. In bed that night, Liz accepted the solid comfort of his embrace and drifted into a restless sleep.
She dragged herself out of bed Wednesday morning and forced herself to go for a run, then showered and dressed for work. She could feel Steve watching her as she ate breakfast, but he said nothing. He kissed her before they both went their separate ways to work. After the morning briefing, Alice stopped by her desk.
“I found that information you wanted on Janet Moss,” she told Liz.
“Oh, great... what did you find?”
“Not much. There was a phone call from the mother’s lawyer in LA, saying Janet hadn’t written in over a month and wasn’t responding to the mother’s letters. An officer went to where she was staying in Fresno... ”
“With Dr. Ellen Goodman,” Liz interjected.
“Right. And Dr. Goodman told the officer that Janet had packed her bags a month earlier and left. She said she assumed she was going back to LA and her mother, but if she didn’t go there, Goodman had no idea where she had gone. She even invited the officer in to look around. He didn’t find any signs that Janet was still there.”
“And, of course he didn’t look for any signs of a struggle or foul play.”
Alice nodded. “There didn’t seem to be any reason not to believe the doctor.”
Liz sighed. “OK, thanks Alice. I’m going to go back over to the Flor Rosada and interview Goodman again. I don’t know how much time she’s got left and if she has any records of the babies she sold, I want to try to convince her to give them to me.”
“All right,” Alice said. “I’ll be praying for her to do the right thing.”
Liz made another trip to the pink nursing home but today she wasn't in the fury she had been the day before. Today she felt numb. She made her way through the facility. Staffers glanced at her and whispered to each other after she passed, but no one said anything to her or tried to stop her.
Ellen was fading, the life seeping from her with each day, each hour that passed. She was again in bed, her head elevated to make her breathing a bit easier. She was asleep and Liz did not try to wake her. She slid into the chair next to her bed and waited. After 30 minutes, Ellen stirred. Her eyes opened partially and she smiled when she saw Liz sitting there. Liz rested her elbows on the arms of the chair and leaned forward.
“I found the information you wanted me to have,” she said softly. “Armen Bedrosian is Janie’s brother-in-law.”
“Mmm, hmm... ” Ellen murmured and nodded.
“Who was the father of Janie’s baby?”
Ellen opened her eyes and gave Liz a knowing look. “You know the answer to that question, Detective.”
Liz sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “Armen molested Janie and fathered her baby.”
“She said it started at age You should know that he never knew about you... at least not from Janie. She told her sister first and she arranged to get Janie away to have the baby. She told Janie not to tell him.”
“And Janie never went back?”
“No, that’s why she came to me. She didn’t want to go back there.”
“Then where did she go? Her social security card hasn’t been used since 1970... what I assume was an after-school job at Bedrosian Ford. She hasn't used that social security number since I was born. Did she change her name and get a new one? Assume another identity?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say,” Ellen said. “I gave her the money...”
“For selling me.”
“I gave her the money. The last time I saw Janie was in the apartment the day I convinced her to give you up.”
“What about the other babies, the other girls? Do you have records on them? They deserve to know the truth about where they came from.”
“I should think you could tell them, better than anyone, that sometimes it’s best not to know.”
Henry Goodman Jr. and Pauline Johnson came into the room, with the quiet attitude of relatives waiting for someone to die. Ellen closed her eyes and seemed to be sleeping as Liz greeted Henry and Pauline. She made meaningless small talk and then escaped as soon as she could.
Transfixed, she sat in her car trying to capture a thought nagging at her. Something Ellen said had caused a brief flash of memory, but now was eluding her. Closing her eyes, Liz re-thought Ellen's replies. Something didn't sit right with her about Ellen’s claim that she knew nothing about where Janie Aronian went after leaving the apartment. Ellen supposedly was in this to help “her girls.” Why would she send a 16 year old girl trying to escape an abusive home off with a wad of money?
Suddenly she knew what had triggered her memory. Ellen said the last time she saw Janie was in the apartment. She opened her notebook and flipped back to her interview with Jessica Carson. Jessica said that Angelo had done some remodeling of the apartments in ’71 or ’72. She looked up the address of the apartments in her notes and started the car.
They were still there, old and rundown, as was the entire neighborhood. And they were for sale. Liz sat in her car in front of the triplex and dialed the number on the “For Sale” sign. When the receptionist for the real estate company answered, Liz told her that she and her husband were looking for an investment property and were interested in the triplex. She made an appointment for the afternoon to see the apartments. Next, still sitting in her car, she called the fairgrounds and asked for Jack Padilla.
“Padilla,” he answered brusquely.
“Jack, hi. This is Liz. Listen... I hate to sound mysterious, but Steve isn’t with you right now, is he?”
There was a slight pause before he answered. “You mean here in my office right this minute? No. He’s off somewhere on the grounds. Why?”
“I have a really big favor to ask and I don’t want Steve to know about it... at least, not yet.”
“What’s going on, Liz?”
“Your phone with that experimental chip that you showed us the other night... I’d like to borrow it for a couple of hours.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t say right now, Jack. Really, it’s very important and I’ll get it right back to you.”
“Liz, that chip is supposed to be a secret... they’re still working on it. I can’t let you use it to collect evidence, you know that.”
“That’s not what I’m doing, Jack, I swear. It wouldn’t be admissible, even if I did. I just need to confirm a hunch of mine. I promise no mention of that phone will ever show up in any reports or court records.”
He was silent for several long moments, but finally said, “I don’t like keeping secrets from my best friend... and my boss.”
“I’m sorry to put you in that position. I can’t tell Steve about this yet, but I will. I just need to figure out myself what is going on before I do. Please, Jack, this is really important.”
“All right. Just don’t make me regret this. I can meet you at my house in an hour.”
“Thank you, Jack, thank you so much.”
An hour later Liz stood in Jack and Melinda’s living room as Jack handed her the phone. She hugged him briefly and thanked him profusely, promising to make sure he did not regret it.
“Are you all right, Liz? You look... flustered. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m OK... really. It’s just a case I’m working on that hit kind of close to home. I’ll be fine. I just need some answers.”
Liz did not know where else to go until her appointment to see the apartments, so she went back to the station. She ate lunch at her desk; another container of yogurt. She went over her notes on other cases, trying to concentrate. Mostly what she did was watch the clock. A little after three, she finally got up and told Sarge she had another interview.
She arrived at the triplex before the real estate agent. She sat in her car, looked at them, imagining the neighborhood 40 years ago. Liz tried to imagine the 16 year old girl who had given birth to her living here, walking the streets, shopping in nearby stores. The agent arrived, a tall brunette in a red power suit. Liz got out and introduced herself.
Joyce had a folder with all the information a prospective buyer might need on the apartments. What Liz most wanted, though, was to get inside the apartments to look around. All three had tenants, although no one was home in Apartment A. Inside Apartment B was a very young girl with a newborn baby. Apartment C had a slightly older girl with two preschool children, both boys. Liz could feel the women watching her anxiously as she toured their apartments. New owners likely meant a raised rent. She listened to Joyce drone on about the building, the schools, the sewage, water and so on. Apartment A was clean and tidy, whoever lived there obviously liked order... or had followed the owner’s instructions to keep the place ready for viewing. The other two apartments weren't as clean, and Apartment C was cluttered with toys and clothing that Liz had to step over and around.
After seeing all three apartments, Liz asked Joyce if she could have a few minutes to go through them on her own. Joyce agreed and waited by her car. Liz started with Apartment C and worked her way back to A. The original apartments had consisted of three small bedrooms and one bathroom. The remodeling in 1971 had been to enlarge one bedroom and add a master bathroom. Liz realized what seemed off was that the master bathroom in A was slightly smaller than the ones in B and C.
She stood in the master bathroom of Apartment A and looked at the walls. All three master bathrooms shared the same outer wall. So why was the bathroom in A smaller? Liz looked at the wall and finally pulled out Jack’s prototype phone and pointed it at the corner of the wall. She pushed the button and the wall seemed to dissolve. Inside were the black and gray beams and wires. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so she pointed the phone at the next section of wall and pushed the button. Again, beams, wiring, insulation. Nothing unexpected. Except... just at the edge of the view was something white and pointed. Liz moved the phone a few inches to the right and pushed the button.
Beams, wiring, insulation and... a skeleton. Liz stared at the phone, her mouth dry. Her hand trembled. She snapped a picture, sent it to her own phone, and erased it from Jack’s phone. She slid the phone into her purse and opened her cell phone to see the picture message. Then Liz looked at it once again. There wasn't any question... there was a skeleton inside that wall. The wall extended into the bathroom a few inches, making the bathroom slightly smaller than the ones in the other two apartments.
Liz closed the toilet lid and shakily sat down. She held the phone in both hands in her lap. She couldn't bring herself to look away. The enormity of what she was looking at washed over her. The skeleton of her own mother; a teenage girl, molested and impregnated by a pedophile brother-in-law, running away to try to escape the abuse and give her baby a better chance, then changing her mind and wanting to keep her baby... and paying for that decision with her life.
Tears welled up and slid down Liz’s face, but she didn't notice. Her hands began to shake as gut-wrenching sobs rose from deep inside and grief swept over her. She clutched the phone to her chest and bent over, giving in to it. She didn't realize she was wailing until she heard the agent nervously clear her throat.
“Uh... Mrs. Roberts? Are... are you OK? Should I call someone?”
Liz continued to sob for several more minutes before she was able to gain control of herself. She began to worry that Joyce would call someone... like her husband or her sergeant... and Liz had no explanation for why she was in these apartments. She sat up, pulled some toilet paper off the roll on the wall, and wiped her face.
“I... I’m very sorry,” she said, trying to still the shuddering sobs that still wracked her. “M..my mother... died recently.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I had no idea.”
“Th..thank you. I just don’t always realize when some little thing will set me off.” She was able to control her breathing now and the tears had stopped. “I’m very sorry. I'm so embarrassed.”
“Oh, think nothing of it. Is there anything I can do?”
“No thank you. I should go now.”
“And what do you think of the property,” Joyce asked anxiously.
“Oh, it’s very nice. I’ll talk to my husband and give you a call in a day or two,” Liz lied.
Liz drove back to the station to turn in her city-owned car and pick up her own. She met Jack at his house and returned the phone, saying as little as possible and leaving quickly. She wasn't ready to go home and try to evade Steve’s questions. There wasn't any hope he would not see something was wrong. She drove around for a bit and then cruised by the women’s clinic that used to belong to Ellen Goodman. She drove the five blocks to the apartments and parked across the street. She sat and watched as darkness fell and lights went on inside the apartments, people coming home from work, dinner being prepared.
She took her phone and opened the picture again. She sat for a long time in the dark, just across the street from where her mother had last lived, and where she had died, staring at the picture of the walled skeleton.