Authors: Nancy Taylor Rosenberg
“That settles it,” Lily said, telling him the details of the Evans case and what role she had played in overturning the conviction. “Jameson hates me. I’ll have to give in to John’s demands.”
“Post the idiot’s bail,” Richard told her, his teeth clenched. “If he continues to pressure you into giving him money for an attorney, I’ll arrange to have a friend of mine represent him. Then you won’t have to worry about the financial end of this mess, and we’ll have some control over the situation.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said. “You’ll have to pay this man.”
“Money is the least of my concerns,” he said. “I care about you, Lily.”
“Hold me.” Once his arms were around her, she could feel his heart pounding. A few moments later she pulled back, fearful she was going to cry. “Maybe it’s time you stopped caring about me, Richard.”
He reached for the door handle. “I tried that, remember?” he said, stepping out into the rain. “You’ve got my cell phone number. Call me later tonight.”
L
ily posted John’s bail at the Los Angeles County Jail shortly after five o’clock Wednesday evening. She had no intention of waiting for his paperwork to be processed, knowing it could be hours before he was released. As far as she was concerned, he could walk home.
After she parked in the visitors lot on the UCLA campus, she stopped in a rest room and washed her face, smeared on some lipstick, wiped the smudges of mascara from underneath her eyes, then secured her hair in a heart-shaped barrette at the base of her neck.
The cafeteria was located almost a mile from the parking lot. Lily was wearing a mustard-colored suit and high heels. Although the rain had finally stopped, the air was heavy and humid. She smoothed down her skirt, wrinkled from the hours she’d spent in the car. Shana was seated alone, staring at the screen on her laptop computer. “Hi, sweetheart,” Lily said, slipping into the chair across from her.
Her daughter closed the lid on her computer, then shoved it in her backpack. “Thanks for coming, Mom,” she said, standing and hugging her. “I have no idea what happened to Dad. I’ve been trying to reach him ever since I called you.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Lily told her. “Are you hungry?”
The cafeteria was noisy and crowded. On the side where they served espresso, there was a long line. The food section consisted of primarily salads and sandwiches. “The food sucks in this place,” Shana told her. “Don’t you want to eat somewhere else?”
Even as tired as she was, Lily didn’t want to talk to her daughter in a restaurant. They could pick up something and eat at the duplex, but then she would have to risk running into John.
There was also the problem of the car. “When is your first class tomorrow?”
“I only have one class on Thursdays.”
“When?”
“From seven to nine at night.”
“Great,” Lily said, standing to leave. “Let’s get going.”
Shana slipped her arms into her backpack, then followed Lily out of the cafeteria. “Why did you want to know when my next class is scheduled? Where are we going?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“I’ve had it,” Shana said, as exhausted and frustrated as her mother. “I was planning on coming up next weekend. Don’t you have to go to work in the morning? It doesn’t make sense for me to travel all the way up there for one night.”
“Please, Shana,” Lily said, deciding to take her shoes off and walk the rest of the way in her stockings. She’d rather ruin a cheap pair of nylons than end up with blisters on her feet. Outside of the courtroom she favored sneakers or sandals. “I’ll explain everything in the car.”
“How are you going to drive me back?” She stopped and stared at her mother’s feet. “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes? Is there a full moon or something? Everyone seems to have gone nuts today.”
“The parking lot is a long walk,” Lily told her. “I have tender skin, remember?” She placed her arm around the girl’s waist. The sky quickly darkened, almost as if the sun had dived into a murky black lake. Even on a clear night the frenetic pace of Los Angeles kept most of its residents from stopping long enough to appreciate the beauty of a sunset. Of course, the smog didn’t help. The campus itself was lovely, however, with an abundance of mature trees and a large expanse of greenery. “I’m sorry I upset you the other day.”
“It’s okay,” Shana said, keeping in step with her mother. “Are we at least going to stop by the house so I can pick up a change of clothes?”
“I’d rather we didn’t,” Lily told her. “We’re the same size. I’ve got plenty of things you can wear at my place.”
For some time they walked in silence, both of them deep in thought. Shana saw a bench and pointed at it. “Let’s sit,” she said, dropping down as if she were about to collapse. “I know something is wrong, Mother. Did Dad have a heart attack and die? Is that why you’re here, why you want me to go to Santa Barbara with you?”
“Of course not, honey,” her mother said, tenderly brushing her hair off her forehead.
“Then what—”
“I should have never told you about your father’s financial problems,” Lily said. “I suspected he was drinking again, so I got angry.”
“You were right,” Shana said. “He is drinking again.”
Lily sighed. “Regardless, it wasn’t right for me to tell you something he told me in confidence. Why do you think I’ve been pressuring you to live with someone other than your father?”
“You don’t want to support Dad.”
Lily’s voice took on a more authoritative tone. “I might have been concerned about making ends meet the other day, but something else related to your father has developed. I don’t want you involved, do you understand?”
“But I am involved.”
“I know you love him,” Lily said, looking down at her hands. “He’ll always be your father. But situations develop where you have to temporarily disconnect, even from someone as close as a parent.”
“I love you more than anything in the world,” Shana said. “You think Dad’s the reason I don’t spend more time with you.” She watched in envy as several students walked by, laughing and talking, wishing her own life were as carefree. “I have trouble staying with you,” she continued, sucking in a deep breath. “Please don’t take this wrong…but we were together that night …in that house you rented in Ventura.”
Lily said, “You don’t have to explain.”
“No,” she protested, her voice rising, then cracking. “I should have told you these things a long time ago. When I first saw your
place in Santa Barbara, I wanted to scream. It’s surrounded by rosebushes, Mom!”
Lily opened her mouth, but her daughter cut her off. “Don’t interrupt me,” she said, tossing her backpack onto the ground. “That’s another thing you do that annoys me. When we’re together, you talk incessantly. You seem to think you have to entertain me, like you’re afraid of just
being
with me.” She removed a bottle of water from her backpack and took a swallow, then handed it to Lily. “The reason I don’t come up and see you isn’t because Santa Barbara bores me. I can’t sleep when I’m at your place. I’m afraid someone will climb through the window and either rape us or kill us.”
Similar to how Lily imagined herself chained to Bobby Hernandez, her daughter associated her with the most devastating experience of her life. Why couldn’t the men who committed these atrocities realize the trauma they were inflicting? She took a sip of Shana’s water, then handed it back to her. “I don’t understand the significance of the rosebushes.”
Shana leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, rubbing her palms over her face. “The windows were open that night,” she told her. “I remember how his body stank, then I must have blocked everything else out.” She turned to face her mother. “While he was doing those awful things to me, all I remember is the smell of roses.”
L
ILY PULLED
into the driveway of her daughter’s North Hollywood duplex at eight-thirty that evening. After Shana’s emotional revelation, pressuring her to return to Santa Barbara was out of the question. They stopped at a café and had dinner, most of the meal passing in silence. As soon as she got up the courage to tell Shana about her father’s arrest, Lily decided the best way to proceed was to rent her a car.
“Why isn’t Dad home by now?” the girl said. “Now I’m really worried.”
Lily saw a light burning in the living room. “Did you leave the lights on this morning?”
“I don’t remember.” Shana started to get out of the car.
“Don’t go in yet,” her mother said, catching her by the hand.
Shana’s eyes widened. “Do you think that guy I saw last night came back and broke in?”
“No, no,” Lily said, clearing her throat to cover her uncertainty. “It’s probably only your father.”
Shana stared at the empty driveway. “If Dad came home, where’s my car?”
“The police impounded it,” Lily told her, shifting sideways in her seat. “Your father was arrested last night. That’s why I wanted you to go back with me. I knew you’d have no way to get around without your car. Don’t worry, though, I’ll make arrangements to rent you one.”
“Shit,” Shana said, kicking the panel underneath the dashboard. “Another drunk-driving arrest. I knew it, Mom. I even took my car keys away from him last night. He still went out, damn him.”
As calmly as she could, Lily related what had occurred. When Shana heard her father had not only been arrested but had struck and killed a pedestrian, she broke down and cried. “I don’t want to see him,” she spat out. “I’d claw his eyes out, the stupid jerk. Take me to Santa Barbara. Take me to China. Take me anywhere.”
“Relax,” Lily said, “I reacted the same way. Getting yourself all worked up isn’t going to solve anything. Let me go inside first. More than likely, your father hasn’t been released from jail yet and you just left the light on by accident. Once I’m certain he’s not home, we’ll collect some of your things and rent a hotel room. First thing in the morning, I’ll see if I can get you a spot in the dorm. If nothing else, I’ll throw your father out, and you can advertise for a roommate.”
“What about that big case you’re handling?” Shana asked, pulling out a Kleenex and blowing her nose. “You know, the one where the little girl was poisoned? I don’t want this mess with Dad to interfere with your job. What you do is too important.”
“I’d rather stay here and take care of things in the morning. Both of us need to get a decent night’s sleep.” Lily got out of
the car, taking her cell phone as a precaution. Running into John would be unpleasant, but with Marco Curazon out of prison, far worse things could happen.
When she reached the porch, she discovered the extra key she kept to the duplex was missing. She started to return to the car to get Shana’s key, then tentatively reached for the door handle, finding it unlocked. John must have found a ride home, she decided, stepping inside. The living room was empty, however, and the phone was ringing in the kitchen. The phone stopped ringing, but she didn’t hear her husband’s voice.
“John,” she called out. “Are you here?”
Just then Lily heard noises in the back section of the duplex. “Now isn’t the time to play foolish games, John. Let me know if you’re in the house or I’m going to call the police.”
Get out! a voice inside told her. Spinning around, she almost tripped on the steps leading to the walkway. Back in the car, she fumbled with her keys, finally finding the ignition key and starting the car.
“What’s going on?” Shana asked. “Why didn’t we stay and get my things? Was Dad home or not?”
“I don’t know,” her mother said, speeding off down the street. “The door was unlocked. I heard strange noises.”
“Maybe Dad was in the bathroom and he didn’t hear you,” Shana told her. “I think he’s losing his hearing. Lately he plays the TV so loud, I have trouble studying.”
“Remember what I’m telling you, Shana,” Lily said, pulling over and parking a few blocks away. “When you sense something isn’t right, always trust your instincts. As soon as I found out the door was unlocked, I should have left. I’m convinced someone was inside there, but I don’t think it was your father.”
Lily hit the preprogrammed 911 button on her phone, requesting that a police unit meet them at the duplex. “We were at that location twice last night,” the female dispatcher said, the address flashing on her computer. When the patrol had been unable to locate Shana on the UCLA campus, Hope Carruthers had followed Detective Osborne’s instructions and issued an order for Shana to be picked up for questioning. As soon as the dispatcher
shifted to another screen and read the alert bulletin, she asked, “Are you related to Shana Forrester?”
“Yes,” Lily answered, thinking they were balking at sending another unit out. “I’m her mother. Last night when I called, I was in another city. Just a few minutes ago, I drove my daughter home and found the front door unlocked, the lights on, and I heard strange noises inside.”
“Where are you now?”
Lily glanced at the street sign. “In the 1300 block of Cliff Road.”
The dispatcher continued, “What kind of car are you driving?”
“A black 1996 Audi.”
“Is your daughter with you?”
“Yes,” Lily said, clasping Shana’s hand.
“Wait for the officers at that location,” the dispatcher advised. “They’ll check the residence first before they contact you.”
“Don’t hang up,” Lily told her. “There’s a possibility my ex-husband is inside the house. I don’t want the officers to mistake him for a burglar and shoot him.”
A
PPROXIMATELY TWENTY
minutes later, a police unit pulled up behind the Audi, its headlights illuminating the interior of the car. Shana had dozed off, her head resting against the passenger window. Lily tried to slip out of the car without waking her. “Where am I?” the girl said, her eyes springing open as soon as her mother opened the car door. “I was having this terrible dream. A building had collapsed, and I was buried under all this rubble.”
“Stay here,” Lily told her. “I’ll handle the police.”
The two police officers separated, heading toward opposite sides of the vehicle. “Are you Lily Forrester?” Gary Stafford asked, a stout, blond-haired man in his late twenties.