The Code of the Hills (29 page)

Chapter Thirty-­Seven

E
LSIE AND
T
INA
walked shoulder-­to-­shoulder down the cracked sidewalk that led to the door of the Taneys' apartment building on High Street. Their expressions were grim. Elsie opened the door and stood aside for Tina to enter first. Tina gave her a conspiratorial wink behind her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Elsie, we are going to see this through.”

“Hell, yes,” Elsie responded, thinking, We don't have any choice.

Donita answered the door, greeting them with a somber face. Roy Mayfield was in his customary seat. It appeared that he had coaxed the television set into a minimal performance level, because the volume was blaring. A battered laptop computer was open on his lap, but when the women entered the room, he snapped it shut and turned his attention to the TV screen.

Elsie gave Donita a hug, inhaling the scent of unwashed hair as she did so. “Donita, I'm so sorry to hear about Charlene. Has there been any word?”

“Nothing,” Donita said. “I was afraid of this. Been worrying and worrying it would happen. Just didn't know when.” She nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Let's go set in here. Roy's watching Maury.”

Troubled by her attitude of resignation, Elsie asked, “What did the police say?”

Donita turned on her with an impatient look. “You know I got no phone,” she said. “Got no phone, no car, now how am I gonna get to the police station? Tina says they'll come out here. She called them.”

“You could have called on Roy's phone,” Elsie said.

“I asked him, but he's got to charge it up. He says it has to be plugged into the electrical, and he don't have his special plug on him.”

Elsie looked at Tina, who said, “I called this morning. They should come by to take the report today.”

“Donita,” Elsie said, speaking more abruptly than she might have, to counter her rising panic, “do you have any idea where Charlene might have gone?”

“Run off with her boyfriend, I bet. Said she wanted to get out of this town. Roy seen it coming. She wouldn't mind him, talked back to him, she was in trouble with him all the time. That boyfriend was probably putting her up to it.”

“Donita, listen to me,” Elsie said, taking her hands and looking intently into her face, “we have to do everything in our power to get Charlene back, because she has to testify next week. We're going to trial on Monday. The judge told me this morning that our case is set number one.”

As she spoke, Donita's face grew closed and hard. She pulled her hands away as she said, “That's the reason you're worried about Char for. You're just worried about her not being there for your trial. That's all you care about.”

Taken aback, Elsie responded, “And her safety, of course. Primarily her safety.”

“If you're just thinking about her safety, then it don't matter too much whether she makes it to that trial.” Donita picked up a plastic bag of corn flakes from the table and folded the top shut. She stood to find the box; when she located it, she shoved the bag of cereal inside and set it back down on the counter.

Speaking urgently, Elsie said, “But Donita, we knew from the start that if we were going to put Kris in prison, it would be a jury that would do it, and we've got to put on evidence that your husband committed those crimes. I mean, we can't just wave a magic wand, and poof!—­he's convicted.”

Donita took a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the faucet at the sink. She walked leisurely to the refrigerator, pulled out a plastic ice cube tray and twisted it, popping out four or five ice cubes. She dropped them into the water. Raised her glass, surveyed Elsie over the rim and said, “Kristy don't want to testify no more.”

“Donita, we went over this. It's just not a matter of choice. This is a criminal case. She's under subpoena.”

Donita didn't respond immediately. Leaning against the kitchen sink, she took a drink and rattled the cubes in the glass. She appeared to be debating whether to speak. “I been thinking. I got a idea.”

“What's that?” Elsie asked warily.

“I done told you about the meth. That's against the law. Do your trial about that.”

Elsie realized she was open-­mouthed.
“What?”

“Put him in jail for the meth.”

Unable to keep sarcasm from her tone, Elsie said, “Do you hear what you're saying? Donita, you
made
it. You cooked the meth. If we wanted to do a drug prosecution, we'd charge
you
.”

Tina let out a short laugh, and Donita looked from one woman to the other. Setting her water glass on the counter with a clink, she said, “You're turning on me. I know what you're up to; I ain't no fool. Roy warned me about you; he was right. Well, I'm done with this. I've had it with both of you. I know what you been up to. You been backstabbing me with that whore, JoLee.”

“What?” Elsie demanded.

“You think I wouldn't hear about that? About you and JoLee and that detective talking stink about me?”

Elsie sat back, squarely meeting her angry stare. “Donita, Detective Ashlock took JoLee's statement. This is a felony investigation, we have to talk to ­people who can provide information. And JoLee did say something you need to explain. She said you beat Charlene with an extension cord.”

Donita's eyes grew wild as she cried, “That was Kris! That was all Kris and JoLee knows it. That woman is poison!”

Tina's voice was unrelenting as she said, “You need to come clean on this. If the girls are at risk here, we'll have to take action.”

Donita swung around to Roy, looking for direction, but he was glued to the television. Her face was frantic as she said to Elsie and Tina, “Kris made me. I only done it because he made me.”

With disgust written on her face, Elsie said, “I don't see how someone can make you beat your child.”

Donita snatched a dirty dish towel and twisted it, so distraught that spittle sprayed from her mouth as she answered, “He said if I didn't, he do it hisself, and it would go worse on her. A hundred times worse. I knowed he would. So I done it. But I held back.” When the women didn't respond, she cried, “You'uns don't know him. You ain't seen how he can be.”

Donita spread the dish towel on the counter and smoothed it with her hands. “I ain't going to no trial. Ain't none of us going.”

Elsie said wearily, “You're under subpoena, Donita.”

“You can shove that subpoena up your ass.”

Elsie's eyes flashed and she spoke in a tone she reserved for cross-­examination. “Are you aware that I'm trying to help you out? Protect you?”

“You're trying to help yourself,” Donita spat. “Nobody's helped me all these years. Putting up with Kris for sixteen years, I got no help from nobody. I finally got someone to stand between me and Kris Taney, and it ain't you. And he says I'm not going to be at your trial.”

“The sheriff will get you on the stand. Is that how it's going to be?”

It was Donita's turn to laugh. “Who knows what I'll say when I get up there? Maybe I won't be able to remember. Or I could take the Fifth, isn't that right? Isn't that right?”

“Donita, you'll be under an oath to tell the truth.”

Donita tossed the dish towel into the sink. “I'm not fucking around anymore. Here's the real story: it's all horseshit. A big old lie. Me and the girls made it up because we was mad at Kris. Tired of his meanness. We wanted him out of here, so we cooked up a story for you.”

Elsie's heart froze in her chest. She looked at Tina with panic in her eyes. A pernicious seed had been planted in her head.
What is the truth here? What really went on in this house?

Mayfield deserted his television program to watch the altercation in the kitchen. He leaned in the doorway, regarding Elsie with a gap-­toothed smile.

Tina was nonplussed. “Not so fast, Donita,” she said. “What the hell is up with you? You've given sworn statements; we've got it under oath that your daughters were raped by your husband under this roof.”

“I'm wore out with it, that's what. Wore out with the whole business. Done.”

Tina grabbed at Donita's arm but broke off the contact and took a half step back. In a dangerous tone, she said, “You don't understand the consequence of saying you're done.”

“I don't care.”

“I bet you do. Why do you think we didn't take custody of your children when the reports were substantiated? You swore to us that you wanted to get your girls away from their abusive father. I believed you.”

Donita didn't speak. She looked at Tina with snake eyes, her face stony.

“So if you refuse to testify at trial, to make good on your promises, I'll assume I can't believe anything you say. Including your statements that the girls are your chief concern.” She paused, locked in a staring war. “You'll lose them. The girls. And the government assistance, the money, the food stamps for them. You understand that.”

Donita didn't respond.

Tina raised her voice. “You understand that?”

With a slight jerk of her head, Donita nodded.

Tina's shoulders relaxed. “So you will participate at trial?”

Donita looked like she'd swallowed brown iodine. “Yeah. I'll do the trial.”

Elsie released a relieved breath, but she was still uncomfortable. She needed to think; she wanted desperately to get out of Donita's kitchen, out of the house. Her case was falling apart: Charlene was gone, her evidence was destroyed, and Kristy and Donita were wavering. In a week she could kiss the Prosecutor's Office goodbye.

“Tina,” she said, “I gotta go.”

Tina looked at her in surprise. “Sure, of course.”

Elsie wanted out of the house so badly that it made her skin crawl. She tore out of the apartment and made her exit into the street, Tina following her, and gulped the fresh air as if she had come out of a house afire.

“Tina,” she said, grabbing her friend's coat sleeve, “I need to talk to Tiffany.”

Chapter Thirty-­Eight

M
ARK
T
WAIN
E
LEMENTARY
School was a sturdy Depression-­era structure built of brown brick and granite. Air-­conditioner units jutted out of various windows like warts. The grounds were neglected, and the outdated playground equipment looked utilitarian and forlorn. Still, the old brick schoolhouse conveyed a certain dignity, an ability to weather the passing years.

Approaching the entryway, Elsie wondered what the hell she was doing chasing down a mute kindergartener and grasping at straws. Her work situation was so snarled, she hadn't even had time to think about her abusive boyfriend. Ex-­boyfriend, she amended.

Holding the heavy oak door for her, Tina asked, “Elsie, how are you going to handle the interview?”

“Been thinking about that. My voice is loud enough to call the hogs; maybe I need to turn my volume down.” Inside the school entryway, she paused to pull off her gloves. “Charlene knows how to communicate with Tiffany. I've seen Charlene whisper in her ear before. I ought to try that. Like we're telling secrets.”

They identified themselves at the front office and asked for the principal, Ms. Horner. After a hurried consultation with the receptionist, Ms. Horner led them to the nurse's office. “You won't be disturbed in here,” she said. “The nurse went home sick today.” She instructed them to wait inside and went to fetch Tiffany.

The nurse's office was oppressively bare, even spartan. A metal desk and two chairs sat in the far corner; a small Igloo cooler containing ice rested in a puddle upon the desk. A cot was pushed against the opposite wall.

As they waited, Tina inspected Elsie's face with an expert eye. “You look like somebody popped you in the mouth.”

Elsie shook her head, saying with a sigh, “God, I'm a total klutz. It's such a stupid story, I'm embarrassed to tell you how it happened.” She stopped without further comment. She would not offer the phony cabinet explanation. She knew Tina had heard that one before.

Tina said, “Okay,” and fell silent.

Ms. Horner appeared in the doorway, holding Tiffany by the hand. Tiffany eyed Elsie and Tina with trepidation.

“You can take Tiffany back to class when you're done,” the principal told them. She gave Tiffany's shoulder a pat and left, closing the door behind her. The three stood uncertainly for a moment.

“Let's sit down and get comfortable,” Elsie said.

She settled into one of the chairs and asked Tiffany to take the other. The little girl obeyed, eyes downcast. Tina eased onto the little cot, brushing a Band-­Aid wrapper to the floor as she sat.

For a minute or two the three sat quietly in the small office. Tina perched on the cot, waiting for Elsie to begin. Tiffany slid back into the adult-­sized chair and hung her head.

Elsie struggled desperately for an icebreaker. She wished she had a cookie to offer, a doughnut, a dozen doughnuts. She rummaged in her purse, hoping to find a stick of gum. All she managed to uncover was a box of Tic Tacs.

She set the Tic Tac container on the desktop. Tiffany continued to look down. Elsie shook the little box, rattling the green pellets of candy. Tiffany glanced at the box. Elsie flipped it open and shook out two.

“Want one?” she asked. “They're spearmint.”

Tiffany eyeballed the candy but didn't reach for it. Elsie popped one in her own mouth and placed the other in her palm; she offered it to Tiffany. “They're good. Try it.” She spoke softly, her words almost a whisper.

Tiffany hesitated, but reached out and took the green candy from Elsie's palm with her thumb and forefinger. She inspected it for a moment and popped it into her mouth.

Elsie raised a brow. “Okay?” Tiffany nodded. “Not too strong? Too minty?” Tiffany shook her head.

Quietly, she scooted her chair closer to Tiffany's. She leaned in close, so close that their heads were almost touching.

“We have to talk about your daddy, Tiffany.”

Tiffany squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head emphatically. Elsie spoke in a whisper, right next to the child's ear. “I know it's hard to talk about. It'll just take a minute. Like when you got your kindergarten shots. It was scary, but it was over in a second.”

Tiffany didn't respond. Elsie shook out another Tic Tac. She placed it in Tiffany's palm. The girl put it back on the desk.

Elsie sat back and took a breath. She leaned forward to whisper again. “Can't you tell me about it?”

The child shook her head no.

“Did he tell you not to talk about it?”

Sliding farther into the chair, Tiffany hung her head.

Scooting a trifle closer, Elsie whispered, “How about just telling me about your sisters. About what happened to them.” When Tiffany didn't respond, Elsie pondered for a moment, then added, “If you just talk to me today, I promise I'll never ask again. You'll never have to talk to me about it again. Ever.”

Tiffany stole a glance at Elsie and looked away.

Elsie pressed on. “Did you ever see your dad doing things with Charlene or Kristy?”

The child placed her head on the desk and covered it with her arms. Elsie could see that she was breathing hard, her small chest heaving under her sweatshirt.

“What did you see?”

The child clutched her hands together at the back of her neck, shaking her head back and forth. With frustration, Elsie shot a look at Tina, but Tina just shrugged.

Desperate to crack the child's wall of silence, Elsie forgot to whisper. “Tiffany, did you see how Charlene got that black eye?”

Scrambling out of the chair, Tiffany slid under the desk, where she huddled with her face on her knees, her back to Elsie.

Elsie got off the chair and crouched down beside the girl, pressing on: “Tiffany? What did you see?”

Tina broke in. “Elsie.”

Elsie ignored her. “Tell me, Tiffany. Tell me so you can help Charlene.”

Louder, Tina said, “Elsie!”

Turning on Tina with a flash of anger, Elsie snapped, “What?”

“She doesn't want to talk to you.”

Elsie leaned back on her knees, frustration washing over her. “Okay.”

“You're done.”

“You're right.” With a groan, Elsie stood. “Any ideas?”

Ruefully, Tina shook her head.

Tiffany was still huddled under the desk. Elsie bent down and spoke to her, quietly. “Hey, Tiffany. Want to go back to your class?”

Lifting her head from her knees, Tiffany nodded emphatically, still refusing to look at her.

“Come on out of there, hon. Can you show me where it is? The teacher will be missing you,” Elsie coaxed. She extended her hand but Tiffany ignored it.

Slowly, with tension in every muscle of her small form, the child crawled out of her hiding place under the desk.

On impulse, Elsie picked up the mints and held them out to Tiffany as a peace offering. Giving the candy an appraising glance, Tiffany put the box in the small pocket of her worn corduroy pants. She then let Elsie take her by the hand, and together they walked down the hall to the kindergarten class.