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Chapter 37
Wally
left right before Samantha rushed out of the bedroom to stand before her
mother.
“How
does this look?” she asked.
Olivia
stood back to appraise her daughter.
“Well,
it is tighter in the bust, but you were always bigger than I.”
Samantha
giggled.
“Good,
maybe it will help me make the deal.” She looked around. “Wally gone?”
“He
just left. He said he was going to join Fish in the Sea to see whether he can
find the records of our women.”
“I bet
he is,” Samantha snapped.
Olivia
grabbed Samantha by the shoulders and met her eye to eye.
“Let
it go. Wally is and has always been your best friend. Don’t ruin a lifetime of
memories over nothing.”
Samantha
got a pouty look on her face and then blew her mother a kiss.
“Thank
you old, wise woman. Now, I have to go.”
Left
alone, Olivia felt antsy. First, the woman this morning that confronted them in
the golf cart, the news on the television and now the bickering between Wally
and Samantha had left Olivia about ready to jump out of her skin. It felt
claustrophobic staying inside. She hustled back in, changed shoes and grabbed
her keys. The elevator door closed right before she could tell whoever was
inside to hold the door for her. Inpatient to get outside, she chose to use the
stairs. Four stories later, she burst out the stairway door into the lobby to
see Margaret Fowler pushing the elevator button. She saw Olivia and waved.
“What
are you doing here?” Olivia asked.
“Hoping
to see you. I should have called, I know.”
Olivia
saw that Margaret was dressed casual and had on tennis shoes.
“How
did you get in?” Olivia asked.
“I
have a good friend here that I come to see. She’s in her eighties and can’t get
out. She gave me her security code. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“No,
no, I was just wondering. My daughter and her friend have the security code,
too. What can I do for you?”
“I
wondered if you’d want to join me on the trail?”
Olivia
noticed that Margaret had a funny look on her face that said this was not a
social call.
“Sure,
why not?”
The
conversation at first consisted of niceties about the weather, their kids and
getting older. This time they walked toward the Plaza and once they crossed Fifty-first
Street, the trail became empty. Margaret cleared her throat and slowed the
pace.
“I
need to talk to you, Olivia.”
Olivia
froze, folded her arms and faced Margaret.
“About
what?”
The
solemn expression on Margaret’s face told Olivia that she knew. Olivia took a
deep breath, pursed her lips and waited for Margaret to expose her. What could
she say? She didn’t want to be caught in a lie, but at the same time, she
didn’t want to reveal anything unless she had to.
“The
police know you are the person who called the Tips Hotline today. You also
called it yesterday.”
“Why do you say that?” Olivia asked turning to
continue their walk.
Margaret
caught up with her.
“You
were at South Lake this morning in south Kansas City. A woman named Cora
Brandon caught you trespassing on South Lake property near a dumpster. The very
same dumpster where Patricia Wilson’s body was found.”
“I
guess I can’t lie about being out there. Samantha and I were going to hike a
trail, and the fog sidetracked us.”
“Would
you be willing to take a voice recognition test?” Margaret asked, her eyes
steady on the trail.
“No.
Why should I take a test? Margaret, if the police are concerned that I did
something, why don’t they come to talk to me instead of you?”
“I asked them to let me talk to you first.
After all, I’m an old friend. I can’t see you going around murdering people. I
don’t think the police think that you could do it either, unless you have an
accomplice. What they are more interested in is how did you know where to find
the bodies?”
Olivia
head was spinning as they neared Volker Boulevard. She stopped to scan her
surroundings before turning around toward home. Her steps were smaller, slower,
and Margaret didn’t seem anxious for her to hurry up and answer. Olivia’s
shoulders slumped as her shoes scuffed aimlessly at the gravel path. What could
she say? How could she explain something that she didn’t fully understand
herself? Margaret would think that she was out of her mind. They stopped for
the light at Fifty-First-Street. The light turned green and when they reached
the other side, Olivia’s hand clutched Margaret’s arm.
“I saw
Vickie Taylor,” she said.
“What
do you mean you saw Vickie Taylor?”
“She
came to me in a dream, or whatever you want to call it.”
Margaret
stared at her with a look of disbelief.
“Before
or after she died?”
“Two
days ago. I can’t explain it. She came to me when I went to sleep and asked me
to help her.”
Margaret
backed up and closely examined Olivia’s face.
“You
mean to tell me that Vickie Taylor came to you in your sleep and asked you to
help her? You want me to believe that?”
Olivia
started to walk on, but Margaret held her back.
“Why
talk about it? I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
Margaret
bit her upper lip. Olivia could see her forming the correct words in her mind.
“Did
she tell you where she was buried in Swope Park?”
“No,
she showed me the next morning.”
“Physically
took you out to Swope Park and showed you where she was buried?”
Olivia
moaned.
“No,
no, no. It came as a dream. We stood in Camp Lake of the Woods and looked
toward the entrance and the administration building. I knew then that if people
followed a straight line at that particular point, Vickie Taylor’s body would
be found.”
“To be
honest, Olivia, I’ve never heard of such a thing. It sounds farfetched.”
Olivia
pulled her arm away and started walking again.
“Farfetched
or not, that’s what happened.”
Olivia’s
strides were suddenly stronger. She felt anger boiling inside of her. This is what she didn’t want to happen. She’d
be ridiculed and if Will found out, she’d be the laughingstock of all their
friends and acquaintances.
Margaret
walked two steps behind her.
“What
about Patricia Wilson? How did you know how to find her?” Olivia picked up the
pace causing Margaret to trot to catch up with her. “Did Patricia tell you
where to find her body?”
Olivia
stopped and dug her fists into her side.
“No,
Vickie showed me where Patricia was hidden.”
Chapter
38
Olivia
strode off, leaving a struggling Margaret to catch up.
“There’s
a bus stop up here, Olivia. Let’s stop, sit down and talk.”
Olivia
took a defiant pose: legs outstretched, standing tall and her arms folded
defiantly across her chest.
“I
don’t need to sit down.”
“Can’t
you can understand that what you are telling me doesn’t sound real.”
“I
don’t understand it myself, Margaret. Tell your bosses that.”
“Detective
Hines is a very understanding person, Olivia. Detective Myers told him about
you being at South Lake, and he shrugged it off. Hines is no dummy. I think
that’s why he suggested I talk to you.”
“Well,
I didn’t know Vickie Taylor or Patricia Wilson. I only came forward because Vickie
told me where to find the bodies.”
“I’ll tell them that, Olivia. I don’t think
they will bother you. I can explain it to them. If I do that, you have to
promise me that the next time you get one of these dreams you contact me first.
I will be the go-between the police and you.”
Olivia
mulled that over in her head for a moment.
“Okay,
sounds good.”
Margaret
laid her hand on Olivia’s shoulder.
“Does
this bother you that these dreams pop up out of nowhere?”
“I
just don’t understand why I’m getting them,” she said.
Margaret
reached into her pocket and pulled out a card.
“This
is a psychologist friend of mine who is very good at interpreting dreams. He
might be able to help you.”
“You
think I’m crazy.”
Margaret
stood, reached into her pocket before she looked up at Olivia.
“Not
at all. You have provided valuable information. Here’s my card. My private cell
phone number is on the back. Call me if you have another dream. Also, I want
you to call the doctor. He can help. Tell him I told you to call.”
Olivia
watched Margaret jog across Brookside Boulevard to finally disappear up the
hill toward her home. Funny, Olivia thought, how life goes in circles. Will and
she had run around with Margaret and her husband Jake until he died about ten
years ago. Their lives had drifted apart, and now they were entwined again for who
knows how long. Margaret and Olivia had never been close. Will and Jake had
gone to college together and pledged the same fraternity. They’d met up again fifteen
years after graduation. Olivia looked at the two cards in her hand. She wasn’t
ready to see anyone else, but she felt grateful for Margaret’s intervention
with the police.
Olivia
made her way back home and immediately headed for the bottle of Cabernet on the
kitchen counter. Pouring three fingers into the glass, she marched into the
living room and sat down. It was just two-thirty, and it had already been a
long day. Samantha was first and foremost on her mind. Olivia had thought that
by the time Samantha reached her thirties her motherly frustration would long
be over. Samantha would have a husband, take her medicine and be devoted to her
family. Young mothers pushing baby carriages filled the Trolley Trail every
weekend, and Olivia’s unfulfilled fantasy was seeing Samantha pushing a
carriage with her grandchild. The situation appeared hopeless. Samantha never
had relationships, only flings and wild ones at that. Deep down inside Olivia
had always held out the hope that Samantha would marry Wally. Maybe subconsciously
Samantha realized Olivia’s hopes and was not rebelling against Wally, but Olivia.
It wouldn’t be the first time that a child rebelled and did just the exact
opposite of what the parent thought was best. It didn’t matter if Wally was the
perfect match for Samantha. Samantha had to prove that she could make decisions
on her own.
The idea came to Olivia as she drained the
glass. A wicked smile crept across her face, and suddenly she saw the way to
solve one problem. It was so simple that she was surprised she’d never thought
of it before. One problem was down, now she could proceed to the next.
Did
she really want to go see a shrink about her dreams? The dreams had never
presented themselves before, and who is to say that they would continue. This
may be a one-time occurrence. After all of this was over, who's to say it would
ever happen again? Maybe the best way to handle the situation is to wait and
see. No reason to jump the gun and try to solve a problem that will solve
itself in time. There had been this nagging feeling that the self-hypnosis had
something to do with her being able have these crazy dreams. What the
connection was, she didn’t know. If she went to a shrink, could he make a
connection? Olivia doubted it. The best policy for the moment was to wait and
see.
Olivia’s
thoughts turned to Vickie Taylor and Patricia Wilson. It seemed ludicrous to
think that she could help solve the murder of these two women-much less five
women. Why had Vickie Taylor picked her as the go between? Because that is what Olivia had become: a go
between. She felt confused. Did the self-hypnosis start all of this? Did it
bring out something that lay hidden in her subconscious all of these years? Going
inside, Olivia grabbed her iPad to look at the chart again. They were on the
right track. She could see the patterns that emerged. The one thing that stood
out was their loneliness. All of these women were lonely, just like Gretchen.
Olivia
reached for her phone.
“Gretchen?
How are you dear? Are you still madly in love? Why don’t you come over and talk
about it? No… I’m serious. I really want to know how it’s going.” Olivia
listened intently to her friend. “No, I’m not busy right now. Come over now. I
have wine.”
Olivia
called Wally the minute she hung up the phone from Gretchen.
“I
just finished my last appointment. I’m going home to get some paperwork done.
What do you need, Mrs. K?”
Olivia
wished that Wally would call her Olivia. Mrs. K. sounded so formal.
“I
invited my friend, Gretchen, over today to look at Fish in the Sea. I want to
get a feel for the program from someone who has an account.”
“Sounds
like a good idea.”
“Well,
I need to look at it from a man’s perspective.”
“Meaning?”
“Let’s see whether we can find Patricia
Wilson’s account on Fish in the Sea.”
Olivia
heard a horn honk, and Wally muttered under his breath.
“Sorry,
little problem at the stoplight on Broadway. Someone ran a red light. Anyway,
sounds like a good idea. Let me finish my paperwork, and I’ll get on it.”
“Thanks,
Wally.”
Olivia
laid the phone back on the table and smiled. This was going to get interesting.
Gretchen
arrived in a huff twenty minutes later. She almost ran Olivia down as she
walked into the kitchen to find the wine bottle. Olivia shut the front door and
followed her friend into the kitchen. Gretchen had already tossed down one
glass of wine and had poured another. For once she wore no makeup, which meant
her translucent cheeks gave her what Olivia called the casket look. Gretchen
had had so many operations in the past that the lines of her lips were slightly
crooked, and they were too far-gone for Botox to be of any help. The friend of
so many years no longer resembled the woman of her youth.
“Whoa!
What happened?”
Gretchen
turned her back to Olivia and drained the wine glass.
“You
know what happened. That pretty boy I found was just like the last one. Thank
God I caught this one before he got any money out of me.”
Olivia
didn’t want to know what happened because she’d heard it many times before.
“Take
it easy on the wine, Gretchen. You don’t want to end up having to stay all
night.”
Gretchen
slammed the glass down, turned to face Olivia and leaned against the counter.
“Why
can’t I find someone, Olivia? What’s the matter with me?”
Olivia
wanted to tell her friend that her face and body were almost to the point of
mutilation. Gretchen had found a doctor who performed plastic surgery at a
cheap price and would do anything that Gretchen wanted him to do. He’d since
had his license revoked.
“I’m
sorry, honey.”
Gretchen
fell into her arms crying. Olivia knew the routine by heart. They would pour
another glass of wine, sit down at the table and talk for hours—except Olivia
didn’t have hours to talk today. She had to get information from Gretchen.
“Let’s
talk. I’ll pour us a glass of wine. Sit down at the table.”
Gretchen
sat down, her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands.
“How
many times do I have to say it, Olivia?”
“Say
what honey?” Olivia asked.
Olivia
set the glass on the table. Gretchen’s forefinger carefully traced the edge of
the glass. Her blue eyes were encircled
in a sea of red from crying.
“I
tell them right up front. I want an honest man. I don’t want anyone who plays
games.” Gretchen sat up, and the palms of her hands slapped the table so hard
that wine sloshed out of her glass. “No games!”
What
Gretchen said jolted Olivia more than Gretchen’s outburst. All Gretchen wanted
was an honest man and no games. She had to call Wally. Why hadn’t she thought
of this before? She wondered if Patricia Wilson and Constance Daniels said the
very same thing. But, why would someone choose Patricia Wilson and Constance
Daniels over someone like Gretchen?
Gretchen was very wealthy.
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