Baltimore [3.5] Broken Silence (5 page)

‘Did you buy a pony?’ he asked.

‘No. We rescued one a year ago. She was all bone, but she’s up to weight now and really gentle. I loaned her to a neighbor whose grandchildren were visiting. Ford went to bring her home. It’s good for him to stay busy. Helps keep his mind off everything that happened.’ She kissed Joseph’s jaw. ‘Thank you for bringing me in on Angel’s case. I need to stay busy, too.’

‘I know.’ He hesitated, then figured it was as good a time as any. ‘Sophie Johannsen called me this afternoon. She said you’d left her a message asking her to hold your dad’s guitar, that you weren’t ready to return to the cabin. Turns out she never intended for you to come to back there to get it. She’s bringing it to you. I hope that’s okay.’

She lifted her head again to stare at him, wide-eyed. ‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. She said she has to be back in Philly by late afternoon for a checkup with her obstetrician and will swing by on the way. I told her to come to the farm, since you’d be there.’

‘But . . . I mean, that’s nice of her. But she doesn’t have to do that. It’s out of her way.’

‘Daphne, stop saying “but.” Hush and let other people take care of you for a change.’

‘Yes, sir.’ She settled against him. ‘I like this part, too. Talking about our day. It’s nice.’

‘We should do it every night,’ he said. ‘Forever.’ The word had slipped from his mouth before he knew he was going to say it, but he wasn’t sorry.

‘Okay,’ she murmured sleepily. ‘You gonna marry me, Carter, or what?’

He laughed. ‘Yeah. I’m going to marry you.’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Just wanted to make sure. I love you, you know.’

‘I know. And it’s lucky you do, because I love you, too. Now go to sleep.’

Tuesday, December 24, 9:55
A.M.

Daphne stood outside the barn, trying get focused for Angel’s visit, but she was bubbling inside. She stole a glance at her finger, still half stunned. She’d almost thought she’d dreamed the conversation with Joseph. Until she’d woken to find a cup of coffee on her nightstand and the ring on her finger. Joseph had gone to work, but he’d left a note that explained all.

‘I see you looking at that rock.’ Maggie came to stand beside her. ‘Don’t look too closely. You’ll poke your eye out.’

‘It was his grandmother’s. He left early to get it from the family safe.’

‘I’d ask if you were sure, but I can see that you are,’ Maggie said, sliding her arm around Daphne’s shoulders. ‘I don’t need to ask if you’re happy. You’re beaming brighter than a star.’

‘I am happy, but I have to stop beaming. I don’t want to be so bouncy that I frighten Angel.’

‘Don’t worry. When she gets here, you’ll calm down.’

Maggie was right. Daphne’s mind stilled when the car arrived carrying two federal agents, Heidi Breckenridge, and little Angel. Joseph drove up behind them in his big black Escalade.

Angel sat in the backseat with her head down. When Daphne helped her from the car, she shuffled, her eyes on her feet.

Daphne lifted Angel’s chin. ‘Do you want to see my pony?’

Daphne offered her hand and after staring at it for a long minute, Angel slipped her little hand into it. And looked at her feet again. ‘This is Miss Maggie. She takes care of the ponies. She’s coming with us, if that’s okay.’ Angel didn’t reply. Daphne gave Maggie a helpless shrug.

‘It’s okay,’ Maggie said. ‘You were the same way. She’ll talk when she’s ready.’

‘I know.’ Daphne caught Joseph watching her and gave him a finger wave, making the diamond flash. ‘Thank you,’ she said, making him grin. ‘We’ll be back when Angel’s done.’

She led Angel into the barn, followed by Maggie and Heidi. Joseph and the two FBI agents remained outside, guarding them.

‘Oh, it’s nice and warm,’ Heidi said when Maggie shut the door behind them.

‘I always say I’d like to come back as one of Daphne’s horses in my next life,’ Maggie said with a chuckle. ‘They live well.’ She led the pony from the stall to where Angel stood.

Daphne scratched the pony behind the ears. ‘Her name is Sissy.’

Angel’s chin jerked up, her eyes wide. Terrified. Again she wore that look of desperation, as if she wanted so badly to speak.

‘I wonder if Angel’s name is really Sissy,’ Daphne murmured, then crouched down to see the little girl’s face. ‘I name all my horses after movie stars who won the golden statue for being the best. I’ve got a Gracie, an Ingrid, and a Claudette. They’re all horses. Sissy is our only pony.’

Maggie got two brushes, gave one to Angel, and began brushing the pony with the other.

‘You can pet her,’ Daphne said. ‘Sissy won’t bite. Or you can brush her.’ She took Angel’s hand in hers and showed her how to hold the brush so that it didn’t hurt her bandaged hands. ‘You can tell Sissy anything you want and she won’t say a word.’

Daphne took her hand away and held her breath. Angel’s hand stilled, then slowly she began to brush. Moments later, tears began to roll down the little girl’s cheeks. Daphne started to reach for her, but Maggie cleared her throat.

‘Daphne, Heidi, why don’t you go into the office,’ Maggie said quietly. ‘You can’t rush this. Give the child space. Let her cry.’

Daphne and Heidi complied, but stood in the doorway to watch. Daphne sighed. ‘It took me months before I spoke and I never did tell the whole truth. I was too terrified. Maggie was so patient. Sometimes we’d come out and brush horses for hours in complete silence.’

‘I’ve been reading about equine therapy lately,’ Heidi said. ‘It seems so simple.’

‘It is. And it doesn’t help everyone, for sure. But it helped me.’

‘I’ve got a file drawer full of kids who could use something like this.’

Something within Daphne stirred. ‘I’m sure there are certified programs in the city.’

Heidi grimaced. ‘Sure, but most of them have waiting lists. That’s why I haven’t utilized it. By the time the slots open up, my kids are either placed in foster care or returned to the home.’

‘Excuse me. Hello?’ A tall, very pregnant woman with a long blond braid had opened the barn door.

Daphne felt a flutter of dread. Dr. Sophie Johannsen was here.
Bringing my father’s guitar
. The flutter intensified, her heart beginning to race. Maybe it had nothing to do with the cabin. Maybe she just wasn’t ready to deal with her father’s things.

Heidi had stiffened. ‘You were expecting someone?’

‘Yes,’ Daphne said. ‘She’s come to talk to me. She’s no danger to Angel. Joseph and his agents wouldn’t have let her through if she posed any threat. I’ll be right back.’ She met Sophie halfway, extending her hand. ‘Dr. Johanssen. Welcome.’

Sophie shook her hand. ‘Please, call me Sophie. I hope you don’t mind that I dropped by. I wanted to meet you before I went home.’ She spread her palm on her pregnant belly and laughed. ‘I don’t think my husband’s going to let me leave town again for a long, long time.’

‘We’re so very grateful for your help in mapping the gravesites,’ Daphne said.

‘I was happy to be able to help. I’ve heard so much about you from the police and federal agents up at the crime scene. Everyone speaks so highly of you and a number of townspeople send their good wishes. “If you meet little Daphne, tell her that we’re glad she’s doing so well,”’ she said with a very authentic-sounding twang.

‘I’m impressed,’ Daphne said with a smile. ‘You sound like a native.’

Sophie shrugged. ‘I’m pretty good with accents and languages. I promised the townspeople that I’d give you the message, so there you are. I’m not sure you understand what it’s meant to the residents to have this resolved. You were a symbol of stolen innocence. The retirees remember searching for you. The thirty-somethings remember it as a defining point in their lives – their first brush with evil. That you’ve found your own happy ending has given folks hope.’

Emotion welled within her. ‘Thank you. I’ve been so overwhelmed with what happened to me. I didn’t think of them. I should have.’

‘Why would you? That’s why I came. To tell you. And to bring your guitar. It – ’

She stopped when Maggie approached, walking in a way that let her keep an eye on Angel. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt. Daphne, Angel’s talking.’

Daphne sucked in a breath. ‘What is she saying?’

‘I have no idea, except that she’s not speaking English. She keeps saying the same thing, something about “pony perspective.”’ Maggie pulled out her phone. ‘I recorded it.’

She played it and Daphne frowned. ‘It sounds Slavic or Russian.’

Sophie had gone still. ‘It is Russian.’

‘You speak Russian?’ Maggie asked, surprised.

‘I’m fluent in ten languages,’ Sophie said in a matter-of-fact way, devoid of boasting. ‘It’s part of my job. Who is the little girl?’

‘A possible witness to a double homicide,’ Daphne said. ‘Do you understand her?’

Sophie listened again. ‘“She only wanted to see the ponies run.” Does that make sense?’

Daphne shook her head. ‘Not yet. Heidi, can you ask Joseph to come in here?’

Tuesday, December 24, 10:30
A.M.

Joseph hurried into the barn, joined by Sophie’s husband, Philadelphia homicide detective Vito Ciccotelli, who baldly stated that his uber-pregnant wife wasn’t doing anything dangerous.

Sophie pointed to Angel, who clumsily brushed the pony, tears streaming down her face. ‘Vito, she’s just a baby.’ She turned to Joseph. ‘Tell me what you know.’

The others brought her up to speed, then held their breath as Sophie and Daphne approached Angel. Sophie began speaking Russian in a low, soothing tone.

Angel froze. Then she backed away, shaking her head, crying harder. She covered her mouth with her little bandaged hands. Daphne put her arms around the child as she had in the interview room and rocked her while Sophie spoke in that same soothing tone.

Finally, Angel whispered something back, and Daphne’s eyes shot to Sophie’s.

‘She says she can’t tell,’ Sophie translated. ‘That they’ll kill her sister if she tells.’

‘
Sestra
means sister?’ Daphne asked. ‘No wonder she looked so scared when I told her the pony’s name was Sissy. Can you ask for her name?’

Sophie translated and Angel closed her eyes, pursed her lips. Sophie added something earnest, and Angel opened her mouth. Again the others held their breath.

‘Lana. Svetlana Smirnova,’ she whispered.

‘Her family name would be Smirnov,’ Sophie said. She continued, urging on the child in Russian. ‘I’m telling her that you will find her sister and punish the bad people.’

Daphne lifted Svetlana’s chin and nodded. ‘It’s true.’

Sophie translated, then the child began to cry again. But she spoke through the tears, the words coming in a torrent, so fast that Sophie had trouble keeping up.

‘She says that her mother got sick. They came to the United States to go to the hospital. They went to see the ponies run . . . And to see the sea? Yeah. The sea. The nurse pretended to be nice, but she turned bad. She crashed the car and then . . . then the man came. He . . .’

Svetlana turned her face into Daphne’s shoulder. She’d gone still again.

Sophie touched Svetlana’s arm and asked a question. Another torrent of words rushed out, muffled by Daphne’s shoulder. ‘She’s saying that they shot her father with a gun. The man had the gun. Svetlana ran to her father and tried to get him up. She got blood on her hands. Her father told her to hide, so she did. But she could smell fire. She tried to find her way back, to find her father. She had to crawl and it was dark. She was afraid. She found the car but it . . .’

Svetlana choked, burying her face, and Daphne rocked her a little faster. ‘Oh, Joseph, she’s shaking like a leaf.’

‘The car was set on fire,’ Joseph explained in a hushed tone to Sophie and her husband. ‘She was found sitting near it in the snow. It was dark and the firefighters nearly missed her. In her white coat, she blended with the snow bank. Ask why didn’t she talk to us?’

Sophie asked. ‘She says the bad nurse came to her room. Told her that she had to keep her mouth closed. That she’d kill the baby if she told.’

‘I’ll get the surveillance tapes from the hospital,’ Joseph said. ‘Hopefully the cameras got the woman’s face. Does Lana know her parents’ names?’

Sophie asked, then smiled ruefully at the answer. ‘She says they’re “Mama” and “Papa.”’

‘Ask her why her mother wanted to see the ponies,’ Heidi said. ‘And where they were.’

Svetlana’s shoulders slumped and she shook her head dejectedly when Sophie asked.

‘She says the nurse told her mother about the ponies that run on the island, in the sand. The nurse lived there when she was little. They sometimes catch the ponies and sell them, but mostly the ponies run and play in the ocean. And . . . her mama wanted to see the ocean before she went to heaven. She’d never seen the ocean. And she wanted to see the ponies.’

‘Did they see the ponies?’ Heidi asked.

‘Yes,’ Sophie translated. ‘Then Svetlana looked for shells while her mama sat in the sun and the nurse watched the baby. Her papa watched her mama. She was so sick. Skinny. It was too cold. He was afraid she would get sicker. She said she would go to heaven soon and to please let her sit and look at the ocean. So he did.’

They were quiet for a moment, Joseph able to imagine the husband’s pain at watching his wife waste away. ‘It takes a real monster to kill a dying woman and her husband,’ he said, keeping his voice level for the sake of the child. ‘We need to find that nurse.’

‘The sand on her boots,’ Daphne said suddenly. ‘I know the place she’s talking about – Chincoteague Island, off the coast of Virginia. The ponies run wild on the next island, Assateague. The locals do a roundup every summer, swim the ponies across the channel to Chincoteague and auction them to raise money for the fire department.’

‘There’s a story about it,’ Heidi said. ‘I read it when I was a little girl.’

Daphne nodded. ‘I read it to Ford when he was small.
Misty of Chincoteague
. It made me want to see the ponies run too, so one day I packed a lunch and took Ford. It’s lovely there.’

‘You lucked out when you picked the
My Little Pony
coloring book, Daphne,’ Heidi said. ‘Russian for pony sounds the same as English. “Pony,” “mama,” and “Sissy,” may have been the only things we said that Lana understood.’