Don't Make Me Beautiful (43 page)

“Look on page three, the description of the corpse.”

“God, I hate that word,” Brian says under his breath as he pages down.

“I know.
 
Me too, especially when it comes to a baby, but whatever.
 
Read it.”

Brian hears the sound of Gary taking a drink from a bottle.
 
Probably a beer.
 
Maybe that explains his distracted but intense delivery.

Brian’s lips move in time with his brain as it reads the text.
 
In the several large paragraphs describing the state of the corpse, one line sticks out to him:
 
…skull intact encircled with layers of tape, dark hair of approximately one inch in length embedded in adhesive…

“What the fuck, right?”
 
The lawyer waits for Brian’s response.

“Tell me what you see,” Brian says, not sure he gets what’s going on, but deep down knowing there is something very, very wrong here.

“I see a goddamn baby with tons of hair, Brian.
 
Not a bald one. Or I’m just going insane and I need to go out and get hammered right now.”

“Sounds like you’re already on your way.”

“I am.
 
I am, it’s true.
 
That’s why I’m calling you.
 
I need sober eyes and a clear head, and I don’t have it right now.
 
Today fucking wrecked me.”

Brian’s shaking his head, reading that line over and over and over.

 
…skull intact encircled with layers of tape, dark hair of approximately one inch in length embedded in adhesive…

 
…encircled with layers of tape, dark hair of approximately one inch in length embedded in adhesive…

 
…dark hair of approximately one inch in length embedded in adhesive…

“You’re right.
 
This sounds like the baby that the coroner examined had at least some hair.”

“And she said the baby was as bald…”

“…As a cue ball.
 
I remember.
 
She said that.”
 
Brian’s hand goes slack as the whole thing comes together for him, and he drops the phone.
 
Scrambling to pick it up, he gets it to his ear finally, but his eyes never leave the screen.
 
“Shit, sorry about that.
 
Dropped the phone.”

“Okay, so I was right … I need to get on this.”

“What are you going to do?”
 
Brian stands, staring at the entrance to the hallway, knowing that waking Nicole with this stuff right now would be a bad idea, but also knowing that not telling her could get her twice as upset later.

“I’m going to contact the district attorney’s office, I’m going to contact the coroner, and I’m going to contact the funeral home.
 
They’re going to need to all talk and then if I’m right, and I’m afraid I am because I’m never wrong, they’re going to need to do a DNA test.
 
I just hope the coroner has enough tissue left to do that.”

“Or…?”

“Or they’ll have to exhume the body.”

Brian swallows with difficulty.
 
“This is a big fucking mess.”

“You have no idea.
 
Have you considered what it could mean?
 
If it’s not Kitten in that fucking box?”

Brian loses the strength in his legs and falls back into the chair.
 
He opens his mouth but the only sound that will come out makes no sense.
 
“Gaahhhh…”

“Yeah.
 
I hear you, man.
 
We’ll talk tomorrow morning, first thing, if not sooner.
 
Later.”
 
Gary hangs up without waiting for an answer.

Brian looks down at his phone and hits the speed dial for Helen.

“This better be good,” her sleepy voice says.

“Helen, I need you over here now.”
 
Brian’s staring at the wall like a zombie.
 
He’s numb with fear, dread, sickness, and a tiny spark of hope.

“What’s the matter?
 
Is it Nicole?”

“It’s Nicole, it’s Kitten, it’s … everything.”

Chapter Sixty-One

NICOLE IS WAKENED BY THE smell of toast.
 
She wanders out into the kitchen and stands there in shock, finding not only Brian there, but Helen, Agnes and her attorney.
 
She wraps her arms around herself, drawing her robe across her body tightly.

“What’s going on?” she asks, not sure she wants to hear the answer.
 
It’s way too early in the morning for them to be sitting in Brian’s kitchen, and it’s way too weird for them to all be together like this.

Brian stands.
 
“Babe, just sit down.
 
We have some news.”

“News about what?” she asks, looking at each one of them in turn.
 
“You guys are scaring me.
 
Is John out of the hospital?
 
Is that why you all look like you’re going to another funeral?”

Gary shakes his head.
 
“No.
 
He’s still there.
 
He’s awake, but he’s still unable to walk.”

She sits down and ignores the tea Agnes pours for her.
 
“Well?”
 
She looks at Brian, getting more irritated by the second.

“I told you,” says Helen, “she needs to know now.
 
She can handle it.”
 

Brian puts his hand over hers, but she pulls it away, angry that he’s babying her.

“We have some news,” he says.
 
“About Kitten.”

She grimaces, the pain of just hearing her name sharp in her chest.
 
“What news could you possibly have about Kitten?
 
We buried her yesterday.”
 
Her voice goes up with the slight edge of panic.

“Gary called me last night,” Brian explains.
 
“He was reading the coroner’s report.”

“Something you said at the funeral jogged my memory,” Gary says.
 
“I just couldn’t get it off my mind, no matter how hard I tried.”

“What?” Nicole purposely didn’t read the awful report, preferring instead to remember Kitten as a newborn wrapped in her arms.

Helen speaks to her in a soft voice.
 
It’s so unlike her, Nicole can’t help but stare.
 
“Remember in your eulogy how you said the baby’s head was bald?”

Nicole nods.
 
“Yes.
 
Of course I remember.
 
And I remember her head perfectly.”

“Wasn’t the garage really dark?” asks Gary.

“No.
 
I had a flashlight with me.
 
That way I could turn it off if John came out, but I could still see when he wasn’t around.”
 
She smiles briefly, remembering making the plan.
 
“I was kind of proud of myself that I thought of it at the time.”

“So you saw the baby’s head, like really clearly?” confirms Gary.

“Yes.
 
Why are you guys asking me these questions about her head, for God’s sake?
 
It’s really freaking morbid if you want to know the truth.”

“We wouldn’t do it without good reason, believe me,” Gary says.
 
“I’m just going to cut to the chase.
 
The coroner’s report says that there was tape around the baby’s head and that there was one-inch black hair in the tape.
 
I confirmed with him last night after hours.
 
One of his co-workers gave me his cell number.
 
The baby had a full head of black hair.
 
The rest of the body was mostly decomposed, but hair takes a lot longer, especially when it’s embedded in adhesive like it was.”

Nicole feels the blood rush out of her head.
 
She falls back against the chair, her brain not processing the information like it should. She feels as though she’s betrayed her daughter by remembering something so basic in such a drastically wrong way.
 
How could she remember a pink, bald head when it was really covered in hair. “How is that possible?
 
I thought I remembered…”

“Of
course
you did,” says Helen, taking her hand and squeezing it.
 
“That’s the point!”

Nicole jerks her hand away and stands, accidentally tipping the chair over behind her.
 
She scans the faces before her and they have the audacity to look hopeful.
 
Only Agnes looks worried.

“What are you guys talking about?!”
 
She’s screaming now, but she doesn’t care.
 
They’re freaking her out, and she’s almost convinced herself she’s about to wake up in John’s house to find that she’s dreamed all this.

“Calm down,” Brian says, getting up and stepping over to stand in front of her.
 
“We think … and it’s kind of a long-shot, but we still think that it’s possible … that we didn’t bury Kitten yesterday.”

“What?”
 
She stares into his impossibly beautiful eyes.
 
“I don’t get it.”

He takes both her hands and holds them up by his chest.
 
“Your baby, Kitten, she was bald, right?”

Nicole nods, incapable of speech.
 
She’s mesmerized by his strength and conviction.

“The baby that was in your backyard was not bald.
 
She had a full head of long black hair.
 
What if it wasn’t your baby?
 
What if it was someone else’s baby?”

“Whose baby?” she finally whispers.
 
Her mind is swirling with the implications.

Brian holds up a photograph.
 
“Maybe hers.”

Nicole takes the picture from his hand, looking down at the skinny woman with black hair, holding a baby wrapped in blankets.
 
“Who in the hell is she?”

Gary takes the photograph from her, glancing at it before he continues.
 
“I don’t know.
 
We don’t know yet.
 
But the district attorney can do DNA tests to confirm whether it’s your baby or even if it’s John’s.”
 
He looks at Brian.
 
“I’m going to give this to the police.
 
You say you found it in his house?”

“Yeah.
 
In his drawer next to his bed.”

“They can do that with the DNA?” she asks, looking over at Gary.

He nods.
 
“Yes, they can.
 
I’m getting a court order for John’s DNA right now.
 
With your permission, we’ll get yours.”

“How long will it take … before we know?” Nicole asks.

“A week max.”

“Have a seat, so we can discuss this,” Helen says.
 
“Please.
 
I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you guys.”

Nicole puts her chair back upright and sits in it reluctantly.
 
She wants to run to the graveyard and sit at Kitten’s grave, as if talking to her headstone will clear things up.
 
It’s ridiculous, the things that are running through her mind.
 
She actually considers talking to John.
 
And then it all becomes so clear.

“Take me to see John,” she says, looking first at Helen and then at Brian.

“Are you completely insane?” Helen asks.

“That sounds like a bad idea,” says Brian.
 
“I don’t like it at all.”

“Maybe it’s the best way,” says Agnes, her little voice rising above the tide of concern.
 
“If he knows something, maybe he’ll tell her.”

“Why would we let her do this?” asks Helen.
 
“It’s insanity!
 
She’s come so far.”
 
She shifts her sharp gaze to Nicole.
 
“Seeing him will send you backwards, Nicole.
 
Forwards, not backwards, right?”

Gary interrupts.
 
“He’s awake.
 
He can talk.
 
I don’t see why she shouldn’t go in there and try to talk to the guy.
 
Maybe she’ll be able to work a confession out of him if none of us are in the room.
 
It’ll be faster than waiting for DNA. We can do both.
 
A confession to get us started on finding the baby and DNA to confirm for a conviction later.”

“I can’t let her go in there without me,” Brian says, shaking his head emphatically.
 
“No way.
 
Not gonna happen.”

Nicole pulls her hand out of his.
 
“This isn’t your decision.
 
It’s mine.
 
I want to talk to him.”

“We’ll record it,” Gary says, getting excited about the whole idea.
 
“The entire conversation, we’ll listen in on it.
 
I can get the DA to authorize it.
 
I’ll make sure the evidence sticks.”

Nicole feels energized and terrified all at the same time.
 
She looks at her friends.
 
“I know you guys are trying to protect me right now, but I know the best thing is to deal with this head-on.
 
No more hiding, no more acting afraid of him.
 
He doesn’t control me anymore.
 
Now it’s my turn to be in charge.”

Brian backs away and stands in the entrance to the kitchen, his arms folded across his chest.
 
“I’m on record as saying I think this is a huge mistake.
 
I want to be right outside the door.”

“Fine.
 
I’m okay with you being outside the door.
 
Just not inside it,” Nicole says, standing firm.
 
She lifts her chin so he knows she means it.