Revenge of Innocents (36 page)

Jude was quiet for a while, thinking. “Why would I want to help you prove something that would send me to jail?”

Mary stepped forward. “If you cooperate and agree to testify against Reggie, the DA may charge you with a less serious crime. I can’t make any promises, you understand, but there’s always the chance that they might even decide not to prosecute you.”

“Humm,” she said. “What kind of proof do you need?”

“You’ve heard about DNA, right?” Mary continued. “Do you have anything with Don Snodgrass’s semen on it, or some other type of body fluid, such as saliva or blood? How long has it been since you last had sex with him?”

“Over five years.”

“So that’s not going to help us,” Mary said, disappointed. “If you hadn’t had an abortion, we could have confirmed Snodgrass was the father of your child.”

“I didn’t abort his baby,” Jude said, dropping a bombshell. “My mom wouldn’t let me have an abortion the first time I got pregnant. She made me give the baby up for adoption. I wore big shirts and things, so no one at school knew I was pregnant, outside of Haley. I went into labor when I was six months. I was afraid the baby would die, but they told me he was all right. He just needed to be in an incubator. I only had two abortions. I got pregnant three times.”

Everyone crowded around Jude’s hospital bed. “Where’s the kid?” Hank said, beginning to believe her. “Did you use an adoption agency? What hospital did you give birth in?”

“It’s almost time for my shot,” the girl said, wincing in pain. “We didn’t use an adoption agency. My mom handled it through this lady attorney that used to be a DA. All I know was her name was Beth. No, wait, I think her last name was either Levin or Levy. It sounded like the jeans. That’s why I remember it.”

Hank told Mary, “Get Beth Levy’s ass on the phone. If she gives you any flack, tell her I’m going to book her as an accessory to murder. And call Charley. Find out if they’ve established a time of death on Don Snodgrass yet.”

“Why?” Carolyn asked, concerned now that Jude was writhing in pain. She walked over and pushed the call button for the nurse, then leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I’m proud of you, honey.”

Mary was calling the station to get Beth Levy’s number. “Because the wife may have been the first one to find Snodgrass,” she said, pulling out a pen and scribbling the attorney’s number on the back of her hand. “That means she would have had access to the note he left. Since her husband committed suicide, she can’t collect on his life insurance. The last thing she would want would be an illegitimate child floating around, someone who could make a claim on his estate.”

“Did Haley’s father know you had his baby?”

“Yeah,” Jude whimpered. “That’s the last time I had sex with the bastard. I didn’t tell my mom, though. No one else knew but Haley and the attorney lady.”

A flurry of activity broke out in the room. Hank called Redfield at home to get permission to charge Stockton with Drew’s murder. An older nurse with frizzy gray hair and the face of a drill instructor came in to give Jude her injection of Delaudin. When she heard the two detectives talking on their cell phones, she shouted, “No cell phones inside the hospital. Don’t you read the signs? If you don’t leave this minute, I’ll call security.”

Hank and Mary made a hasty retreat, continuing their conversations as they walked out. “Please,” Jude pleaded, looking over at Carolyn, “don’t make my mom leave, Maggie. I haven’t seen her all day.”

“She’s your guardian, honey,” the woman told her, inserting the narcotic into the IV. “Your mother is dead.”

“But she loves me,” Jude said, reaching through the bars on the bed railing.

Carolyn clasped her hand, experiencing a rush of maternal emotions. Tears spilled from her eyes. In the end, love had saved the day.

Monday, October 31
—
6:30
P
.
M
.

T
he air was crisp and fresh. Children were out trick-or-treating, and the rehabilitation wing of the hospital where Jude had been transferred was decorated for Halloween.

Jude still used a sling to support her arm. The reattachment had been a success. All the therapists had to do now was build up the atrophied muscles. The nerves and blood vessels were functioning perfectly. In time, Dr. Samuels believed, she would regain close to normal use of her left arm and hand.

Because of the extraordinary circumstances, the DA decided not to press charges against Jude in the death of her father. The lab had matched Stockton’s DNA to a hair found on the sofa where Drew was shot. Two days ago, Stockton had cut a deal, agreeing to plead guilty to second-degree murder.

Angela Snodgrass had confessed to finding her husband after he had hanged himself, and disposing of the last page of his suicide note, which referred to the abuse he’d committed against Jude. Angela hadn’t known about the pregnancy, however, until Beth Levy had told her the day after her husband’s funeral. Her intent was to call the police and report her husband’s death when she got home from the doctor’s office.

While searching through the documents stored on the Dell computer removed from the study at the Snodgrass house, Ricky Walters had come across a slew of letters and old e-mails that Angela had written to Drew Campbell. From the way it appeared, they’d been having an affair off and on for almost ten years. This was presumably the reason Angela had set up so many passwords on her computer.

Carolyn had revisited Tyler Bell, and he’d finally agreed to come in for a DNA test. The results had established his innocence in the deaths of Lester McAllen and Robert Abernathy. The killer remained at large.

One of the remaining mysteries in Veronica’s and Haley Snodgrass’s death would probably never be resolved. No one had any idea why the clerk at the Motor Inn had claimed a black male had rented the room. They assumed Don Snodgrass had stolen the credit card, as he was a member of the Spectrum Health Club and had been there the day prior to the murder. Either the clerk had simply been mistaken, was racially prejudiced, or Snodgrass had paid someone off the street to rent the room for him. Benny, the clerk, admitted that he seldom checked guests’ IDs if they handed him a valid credit card.

The police had gone through all the calls made to Veronica on the day she was killed, both at her office number and her cell phone, and found nothing that would trace back to Haley Snodgrass or the Motor Inn. The day before she was arrested, Veronica had taken Jude’s cell phone away, something they hadn’t been aware of. She’d also put in a cancelation order with Verizon, so the number hadn’t shown up as active when the police had checked, although the company didn’t discontinue the service until midnight on the day of the murder.

When Carolyn had taken Jude to the hospital after seeing the bruises on her body, she’d had a cell phone in her possession that belonged to a girl named Sally Owens. As it turned out, Haley had used her own cell to call Jude’s cell from the motel room. Veronica must have mistaken it for her own phone and answered it. It was also possible that Haley had left a message on the voice mail and Veronica had retrieved it, believing the two girls were together.

Carolyn saw Jude walking down the corridor when she stepped off the elevator. She was dressed in a black cape and a pointed witch’s hat. Now that she was eating properly and no longer using narcotics, except for an occasional pain pill, she had the glow of a healthy young woman. Her hair was shiny and soft, her skin clear, and her eyes bright and alert. Revealing her secrets after so many years, as well as owning up to her mistakes, had caused Jude to undergo a remarkable transformation.

“One of the nurses gave this costume to me,” she said, laughing. “I wanted to be an angel, but she said it was either a witch or a devil. Do they know me or what? They had a party in the pediatrics ward, and I helped out with the kids. Where’s Rebecca?”

“Rebecca said she’ll stop by tomorrow,” Carolyn told her. “Something came up and she couldn’t come tonight.” In addition to spending time with Anne Marie, Rebecca had started visiting Jude on a regular basis. Carolyn was pleased that the two girls had developed a friendship. Rebecca was only sixteen. Jude would soon celebrate her nineteenth birthday, but the three-year age span no longer made a difference. Mary had been shocked that Carolyn would encourage such a relationship. She’d stopped by the hospital the week before, though, and marveled at how much Jude had changed.

Jude leaned in close to Carolyn, whispering, “That guy over there keeps staring at me. I’ve never seen him before. Have you? He’s handsome. How old do you think he is?”

Carolyn had eagerly anticipated what was about to unfold. A lot of effort had gone into making it happen, and only after it had been approved by Jude’s new psychiatrist. Dr. Reynolds believed Jude had attention deficit disorder, commonly referred to as ADD. He felt this was one of the reasons she’d been so unruly as a child, and performed poorly at school. Now that she was on medication, the doctor felt she might be able to attend college one day.

Veronica had changed her will not long after Carolyn received her promotion, appointing Emily as legal guardian of the three minor children, as well as the executor of couple’s estate. The one penalty Jude had received, outside of a devastating injury and a childhood of abuse, was being denied all rights to her parents’ four-million-dollar life insurance policy. Jude inherited the proceeds from the sale of their home, but Emily supervised all expenditures. She had agreed to pay the rent on a small apartment on the provision that Jude enter a three-month residential drug treatment program when she was re leased from the hospital.

“I want you to meet a new friend of mine,” Carolyn told her, her eyes flashing with excitement. “Julian, this is Jude Campbell.”

Tall and slender, Julian Harris had sandy brown hair, rust-colored eyes, and fair skin. He was dressed in a checked shirt and black corduroy slacks, and looked younger than his thirty-three years. “Can you say hello to the pretty lady, Zachary?”

A dark-haired little boy poked his head out from behind his father’s long legs. He was wearing a Mr. Incredible costume. “Want to see my muscles?” He grunted and flexed. “Now you gotta give me candy.”

“I do, huh?” Jude said, dropping to her knees in front of him. “How much candy did you get when you went trick-or-treating tonight?”

“This much,” he said, making a big circle with his arms. “Daddy won’t let me eat it till tomorrow. He says it’ll make me hyper. What’s wrong with your arm? Did you broke it?”

“That’s a long story, Zack,” Jude said, reaching over and ruffling his hair. “I have a bag of candy in my room. If you want, I can give some to your daddy for later.”

“Yeah,” Zachary said, jumping around with his cape flapping.

They made their way to Jude’s room, and Carolyn closed the door behind them while she handed a small sack of candy to the boy’s father.

“Well,” Julian said, an awkward expression on his face, “I guess we should be taking off. I need to get this fellow in bed, and that’s not always an easy task. It was good to meet you, Jude. Maybe we’ll see you again.”

Once he left, Jude took off her costume, perching on the edge of her bed. “Cute kid, huh?”

“Adorable,” Carolyn told her, smiling. “He’s your son, Jude.”

Her mouth fell open. “No way. Are you serious?”

“We tracked him down through Beth Levy.”

“Where’s his mother?” Jude stopped, cupping her hand over her mouth. “I mean, the lady who adopted him. God, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“She died last year of cancer. Julian is a high school history teacher. He lives in Santa Barbara. His mother lives with him and helps take care of Zachary. This is just a preliminary step, Jude, so don’t get your hopes up too high. But if everything goes well with your treatment, Zachary’s father might let you visit him on a limited basis. You won’t have any custody rights, and he doesn’t want the boy to know you’re his biological mother. He might change his mind later, though. A lot of that will depend on you. How do you feel?”

“This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jude told her, on fire with excitement. She danced around the room. Her arm slipped out of the sling, but she didn’t notice. “He’s so cute. I bet he’s smart. His father’s a schoolteacher, so he’ll make sure he gets a good education. I’m so happy, I think I wet my pants. Oh, my God, isn’t he the most precious kid in the whole wide world?”

“He will be to you,” Carolyn said, basking in the joy of the moment.

I would like to thank my dear friend and editor, Michaela Hamilton, for her always sound advice and her unique ability to help me improve on my original vision.
Revenge of Innocents
is the ninth novel Michaela has edited. Needless to say, we’ve been through many life experiences together—divorces, deaths, births, sicknesses, best sellers, mergers, disappointments, success. Michaela and I are both strong women, although you couldn’t tell by looking at us. I’m a little redhead; she’s a little blonde. Which of us is the devil and which is the angel seems to change from day to day. No matter what the future has in store for us, I’m confident we’ll both survive.

I want to thank my loving and supportive family: my husband, Dan, my sons, Gerald Hoyt and Forrest Blake; my daughters, Chessly, Amy, Nancy, and Chrissy, as well as my adorable grandchildren, Rachel, Jimmy, Remy, Christian, Taylor, Elle, and Justin. For the women who stand beside my sons, Barbara and Jeannie, and my sons-in-law, Jim and Mike.

Above all, I thank God for listening to my prayers and restoring my health. When I take off on my daily run, my soul sings with gratitude. I remember when hardly a day went by without pain, and the awful days when I had to struggle just to sit upright. That was before I found out I had a heart condition. Even in this, a small miracle occurred. One of my arteries was completely blocked, yet my heart formed its own natural bypass.

My beloved father-in-law, Hyman Rosenberg, used to say, “Your health is your wealth.” I now realize the simple but profound truth in his statement. Although he passed away many years ago, I feel Hyman’s presence beside me, whispering words of encouragement.

Last, but not least, I must mention my two precious dogs, Chico and Gracie, who sit so quietly while I’m working and keep me company when I’m thinking.