The Secret Life of Ceecee Wilkes (31 page)

BOOK: The Secret Life of Ceecee Wilkes
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“If I don’t come forward, I’m going to get sicker anyway,” she said. “
This
is why I’ve been flaring, Jack. I can’t carry the guilt around with me any longer. I’m sorry to put you and the girls in such a terrible position, but please, try to imagine yourself in my place.”

“Very, very difficult,” Jack said.

“You don’t know what you might have done if you’d been in my shoes when you were sixteen,” she said.

“I never would have gotten myself mixed up with a scheme like that, and that I
do
know.”

“I made stupid choices,” she said. “I admit it. But imagine you did do what I did and now you’re watching someone take the fall for you. Does it matter what sort of person he is? Does that
matter,
Jack?”

He said nothing, and she knew she’d hit a nerve in him. Jack was a good man, and she’d struck him in the heart of that goodness with her question.

He looked away from her, running his hand over his chin. “I need time to digest this,” he said.

“That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t have time. I’ve taken too much time being afraid to say anything. And today he’s going to be sentenced. I need to do it
today.

“No,” he said firmly. “This is not just your life you’re talking about, Eve. Or whoever the hell you are. This is
my
life, too. And your daughters’. You may think you need to come to the aid of that scumbag in prison, but I think you’ve forgotten who really matters. You’re putting him ahead of your family.”

Was she? Oh, God. Should she swallow her integrity for the sake of her family? It would be so much easier, but she was certain it wouldn’t be right.

“None of us is going to die if I tell what I know,” she said. “But Tim is almost certainly going to die if I don’t.”

“Ask me if I care,” Jack said.

“I just…I have to do it, Jack. I’m sorry.”

“This is unreal.” He looked at her and she was afraid she saw hatred in his eyes. “
You’re
unreal.” He looked toward the house. “I’ve got to get out of here,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. I’m going to get dressed and go to my office, and I hope by the time I get home tonight, this whole…this mess will turn out to be a bad dream.”

She stood up, grabbing his arm. “Don’t go,” she said. “Please. I have to figure out what to do
now,
and I need you to help me think through how to do it.”

“That’s asking a lot, Eve.” He shrugged his arm out of her grasp. “You seem bent on doing something that’s going to hurt everybody you supposedly care about. Where do you get off asking for my blessing?” He turned away from her and walked toward the house.

Knees shaking, Eve lowered herself to the bench as Jack slammed the back door shut behind him. She could lose him. She could truly lose him. He loved her—loved
Eve
—unconditionally and with all his heart; she knew that. But it must seem as though Eve had suddenly died, as surely as if she’d been run over by a bus. What had she expected? She’d had decades to adjust to the bizarre truth about her life; he’d had only minutes. Was it his blessing she wanted? His forgiveness? She couldn’t say. All she knew was that he was right: she’d already decided what to do.

Chapter Fifty-Two

I
nside the house, she left a message on Cory’s cell phone.

“It’s Mom, Cory, and it’s urgent,” she said. “Please call me as soon as you get this message.” She worried that Cory would think something had happened to Jack or Dru. “Everyone’s safe,” she added, “but I need to talk with you right away. Please call me on your break.”

She stared at the phone after hanging up. Should she try Jack’s cell number? Ask him to come home? He’d never walked out in the middle of an argument before. But then, arguments had been rare in their marriage. Certainly there’d been no arguments of this magnitude. He needed space and time from her, she thought, as she walked away from the phone. She would have to give it to him.

So, now what? She could call the police and tell them what she knew. Would they instantly arrest her? Would they let her talk to Tim’s lawyer? Or would they extradite her to North Carolina without letting her say her piece? Maybe she should try to reach Tim’s lawyer directly. She bit her lip, uncertain what to do. She didn’t trust herself to make the right decision.

She dialed Cory’s number again and left another message, then turned on the TV in the living room, wishing Jack were with her as she pressed the buttons on the remote. CNN showed video of the exterior of the Wake County courthouse, where a few reporters interviewed people who had sat through every day of the trial, getting their opinions of Tim and the depth of his guilt.

She’d be able to get out on bail after her arrest, wouldn’t she? What if they saw her as too great a flight risk, though? She’d run before, she might run again. She swallowed the fear building inside her.

She picked up the phone again and dialed Information to get the number of the courthouse, letting the phone company connect her. A mechanical voice came on the line, offering her a maze of choices and she couldn’t seem to grasp what any of them meant. Court costs? Wills and estates? Civil division? Criminal division? That was it, wasn’t it—the criminal division? She pressed the appropriate number and was offered another set of choices. Frustrated, she pressed zero, and was relieved when a live human being, a woman with an accent thick as honey, answered.

“Um,” Eve began, “I’m not sure what number to call to reach Len Edison. Timothy Gleason’s attorney,” she added, as if anyone on the planet did not know the name of Tim’s lawyer by now.

“I can’t put you through to him, ma’am,” the woman said. “I suspect he’s here, but you have to call his office to reach him.”

“Do you have the number?” Eve asked.

“No, ma’am,” she said. “Sorry.”

She called Cory again after hanging up. She was leaving too many messages for her; Cory would only be annoyed, but maybe she would realize how urgent it was that she call. Then she dialed information for Len Edison’s office number.

“He’s at the courthouse,” the receptionist said after Eve had asked if he was in.

“It’s urgent that I speak to him,” Eve said. “I have information that can exonerate Timothy Gleason of Genevieve Russell’s murder.”

The receptionist didn’t respond right away. Then she sighed. “A little late with that, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Please tell me how to reach him.”

“Give me your name and number and I’ll let him know you called.”

Eve hesitated. She had the feeling Edison would never get the information. “I need to talk to him this morning,” she said.

“Do you have any idea how many calls we get from people wanting to talk to him about this case?” The receptionist was definitely burned-out.

“This is important!” Eve said.

“Give me your name and—”

“All right.” She told the woman her name and number and made her promise to contact Edison right away. Hanging up, she pictured the receptionist tossing the information into a trash can beneath her desk.

She tried Cory’s home number. Maybe she hadn’t gone in to work today. Maybe she had morning sickness. She even tried calling Ken at the WIGH office, but was told he was “in the field.” At the courthouse in Raleigh, no doubt, waiting to hear the jury’s decision on Tim Gleason’s future.

“Could I have his cell phone number, please?” she asked the receptionist. “This is his…his future mother-in-law, and it’s urgent.”

“We can’t give that out,” the woman said.

Eve thought of arguing with her, but hung up instead. She stared at the phone, wishing Jack would call, fighting the urge to call him. Instead, she dialed the number for Dru’s cell phone. She knew her schedule; she could catch her between classes.

“I need to talk to you,” she said when Dru answered.

“What’s wrong?”

Eve imagined she’d been walking across the grounds and now stopped short at the urgency in her voice.

“It really should be in person, honey,” Eve said, “but there’s no time, so please forgive me for telling you this over the phone.”

“What is it?” Dru sounded frightened.

For the second time that day, Eve upended the world of someone she loved.

“I can’t believe this,” Dru said, over and over again as Eve told her the story she’d kept inside for so many years. “It’s just… Cory’s not…she’s President Russell’s daughter?”

Eve thought she’d explained it all thoroughly and carefully, but there was still confusion in Dru’s voice.

“Yes,” she said.

Dru started to cry. Even when she was a little girl, Dru’s tears had been so rare that Eve had always been surprised by them.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” she said. She heard one of Dru’s friends ask if everything was all right, but she couldn’t hear her daughter’s response.

“Did Dad know any of this?” Dru asked.

“No,” Eve said. “Not until this morning.”

“Is he there?” Dru asked, as though needing to verify Eve’s story with Jack.

Eve hesitated. “He’s upset,” she said. “He’s at work.”

“He went to
work?
” Dru asked. “He left you alone? How could he go to work?”

“I think he needed some time to process what I’d told him,” Eve said. “I don’t blame him.”

Dru read between the lines. “Is he angry?”

“Yes,” Eve admitted. “It’s a lot to take in. And he doesn’t think I should tell Tim Gleason’s lawyer what I know.”

“You
have
to, though,” Dru said, and for the first time in days, Eve felt the weight on her heart lift, if only a little. Dru, not even out of her teens yet, felt like Eve’s lifeline to sanity, and she was touched by her support.

“You understand?” she asked.

“Oh, totally, Mom.” Dru’s voice was thick with tears. “I totally get it. I just…it’s still awful, though. But Cory…I’m scared how she’ll take it. She already has such a hard time with…” Dru started crying again, and Eve wished she had a magic wand to take away her daughter’s pain. “You have to talk to her before you do anything,” Dru managed to say.

“I’m trying, but she won’t return my calls.”

“She keeps her cell phone off during the school day,” Dru said.

“Maybe I could reach her through the school office?”

“Maybe.” Dru sounded doubtful. “Or I can try to reach her at school and tell her she has to call you, okay?” she offered. “She’ll take a call from me.”

“Thanks, honey,” she said. “And thanks for…being so accepting.”

She hung up the phone, then stared at it for a moment, willing Tim’s lawyer to call. She looked at her watch; time was passing too quickly. Had the lawyer even received her message? On the television, reporters jabbered, filling time with opinion and speculation as they waited for something concrete to report. When the cameras panned the area outside the courthouse, she was surprised to see a Channel 29 van parked on the street. That made sense, though. The Charlottesville station had been covering the story all along. As Lorraine had said, it was juicy news.

The phone rang and she grabbed it. “Hello?”

“It’s Dru. They told me Cory’s at a museum with her class and they can’t reach her.”

For the briefest of moments, Eve forgot her own plight. “Wow,” she said. “That’s good she could go on a trip with them, isn’t it?” Cory was taking one step forward; her news could sent her back a hundred.

“Yeah, I was surprised,” Dru said.

“Will you leave a message on her cell phone to call me the second she can?” she asked. “I’ve left half a dozen, but she’ll be more likely to answer one from you.”

“I plan to,” Dru said. “And I’m coming over there. You sound fried, Mom. Please don’t do anything crazy.”

“I already did the crazy thing, Dru. A long, long time ago.”

She hung up the phone and turned back to the TV, trying to find Ken in the crowd of people and reporters. She spotted the Channel 29 van again.

Lorraine.
Her mind suddenly raced with possibilities, and she picked up the phone and dialed Lorraine’s direct line at Channel 29.

“Lorraine Baker,” Lorraine said.

“It’s Eve, Lorraine.” She felt a huge sense of relief at reaching her friend. “You’re going to think I’m nuts,” she said, “but I have information that can clear Timothy Gleason of Genevieve Russell’s murder, and I need to go public with it before I lose my nerve.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

T
he news crew arrived in two vans, and within minutes, she felt as though her house was not her own. People swarmed her living room, trying to decide whether it would be better to televise her interview inside or outside. Lorraine arrived, and the sea of people parted for her as she rushed toward Eve, who stood uncertainly in the middle of the room.

“I’m sorry.” Lorraine rested her hands on Eve’s shoulders. She looked at the mass of people around them. “This must be overwhelming, having them take over your living room like this.” She suddenly clapped her hands together. “Outside!” she called. “Set up on the lawn. We’ll put Mrs. Elliott on the front porch.”

Lorraine put her hands on Eve’s shoulders again and looked hard into her eyes as the crew began funneling out of the living room. “You feel wobbly to me,” she said. “Sit down.”

Eve took a few steps toward the sofa and sank onto it.

“Where’s Jack?” Lorraine asked.

“At work.” She’d called Jack to tell him her plan, not wanting him to be broadsided by the news that was sure to spread like wildfire through the university.

He’d been as furious as she’d ever heard him.

“You’re going to destroy our family, and for what?” he shouted into the phone.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but the words sounded as empty to her as they must to him. She had to seem like a stranger to him, a stranger bent on harming him and their daughters for the sake of someone he cared nothing about.

“Do you want him here?” Lorraine looked confused. “Should we wait for him to get here?”

Eve shook her head. “I don’t know if he’d come, even if I begged him,” she said.

Lorraine tipped her head to the side. “What’s going on, Eve?” she asked.

“I don’t have time to explain it,” Eve said.

Dru sat down next to her on the sofa, putting an arm protectively around her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her nose stuffy from crying. Wordlessly she rested her head on Eve’s shoulder.

“All right,” Lorraine said. “I’m going outside to get things organized. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”

Eve nodded, lacing her hand with her daughter’s.

Once the room had cleared out, Eve sat alone with Dru.

“You’re really brave, Mom,” Dru said.

Eve tried to smile. “Brave or stupid, I’m not sure which,” she said. “The only thing I’m afraid of right now is that the police will come the second this airs. And I’m afraid they’re going to…to take me away.” She teared up, tightening her hand around Dru’s. The moment she’d been dreading for nearly thirty years was finally upon her and she was bringing it on herself. “I can’t let them do that until after I’ve spoken to Cory. So somehow, as soon as this is over, I need to drive to Raleigh.”

Dru nodded, her head still on Eve’s shoulder. “They’ll be looking for your car, though,” she said.

“I’ll have to take that chance.”

“Take my car,” Dru offered. “I can drive you.”

Eve’s throat tightened up. It was Jack she longed to have at her side when she spoke to Cory. Remembering his angry words stung her. “I should go alone,” she said. She wouldn’t put Dru through any more of this than she had to.

“Maybe they’ll still figure out where you’ve gone,” Dru said, “but in my car, it will at least take them a little while longer to find you.”

Eve looked through the window at the crowded street. Neighbors stood on the sidewalk now, wondering what was going on. There would be no way to get to Dru’s car in the driveway without being seen by dozens of people.

Dru read her mind. “I’m going to move my car right now,” she said quietly, as if used to such clandestine dealings. “I’ll put it on the other side of the block. You just have to go through the Samsons’ driveway.” It was the route Dru had taken as a child to get to her friend’s house on the street behind them. She lifted her head from Eve’s shoulder. “Can you walk that far okay?” she asked.

Right now, she wasn’t sure she could make it to the front porch, but she nodded.

Dru stood up. “I’ll go move it,” she said. She bent over to kiss Eve’s cheek. “Keep to the speed limit when you drive to Cory’s,” she warned.

Eve nodded. Dru left the house, and through the window, Eve watched the crowd turn in her daughter’s direction as she walked toward her car.

Lorraine pushed the front door open. “Let me pin this on you, Eve,” she said. She crossed the room, holding up a tiny microphone and receiver. Sitting down on the sofa, she clipped the receiver to the pocket of Eve’s jeans and the mike to the crew-neck collar of her sweater. “When you’re ready,” she said, “just come onto the porch. I’ll be the person asking you questions, all right?”

Eve nodded and got to her feet. She walked through the front door onto the porch, her mouth suddenly dry as paper. She saw neighbors she knew and passersby she didn’t, all crowding the sidewalk to see what was going on. Two huge cameras were on the lawn, along with blinding lights. She hadn’t expected that, and she blinked against their glare.

Her gaze was drawn to the street, where she spotted Jack’s car jerk to a stop in the middle of the road. She watched him leap from the car, run across the street and push through the throng, and she guessed he intended to prevent her from making her statement. She braced herself to stand firm, but it was unnecessary. He stopped short at the bottom of the porch stairs.

Looking up at her, breathing hard from his sprint across the lawn, he mouthed the words,
I’m here.

Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded at him. In front of her, Lorraine stood on the porch step, opening her mouth to ask a question, but Eve didn’t wait for it.

“Timothy Gleason is not guilty of murdering Genevieve Russell,” she said. “And I can prove it because I was there.”

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