Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 02 - Portrait on Wicker (10 page)

After he left she turned to me.
“I understand why you didn’t come forward all those years ago. But once you got to be an adult, you could have saved other girls some of the trauma you must have gone through.”

I felt ashamed.
She was right. I got busy with my life, and didn’t take the time or effort to pursue this thing. It was selfish of me, very selfish.

I didn’t realize I was crying until she said, “Well don’t cry about it.
I don’t have time to make you feel better.”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I wiped my eyes.
“I can’t go back in time, but now I will do everything I can.”

Without comment
ing on that, she turned to Trudy. “I want you to tell me, off the record, your entire story and don’t leave anything out. Everything has to be off the record for now.”

Without hesitating, Trudy began her story, “There wasn’t enough to eat at my house and too many kids to feed. I thought if I ran away, I could lighten the burden for my mom and I could take care of myself…”

CHAPTER 25

The judge drove us home. She kept looking in the rearview mirror as if she was trying to see if we were being followed.

I had been surprised by her car when she pointed it out in the parking garage.
It was a bright red Mazda Miata convertible. She was now driving it like a race car driver. I looked in the back and Trudy appeared to be enjoying the ride.

Judge Meadows
called Bill’s cell phone just before we got home and told him we were almost there.

“Is there
a garage I could park in?” she asked “because I’m coming inside the house.”

She turned the car
, on what felt like two wheels, and drove directly into the garage. Bill was standing inside. He hit a switch by the door as soon as her car was inside.

Bill led the judge into the living room where everyone was waiting.
John had ordered pizza and had opened a bottle of wine. Trudy went into the kitchen and fixed herself a coke. Judge Meadows asked if the pizza had anchovies.

“Just that half over there, judge,” John said.

She helped herself to a slice from that half. She ate like she was starving to death.

“I didn’t have time for lunch,” she explained when she saw us watching her.
“Aren’t you all going to have any?”

It was like a party and for awhile we forgot why we were there.
After eating almost all of the anchovy side of the pizza, the judge wiped her mouth on her napkin, but wiped her hands on her t-shirt leaving a smear of pizza sauce.

She looked down when she saw me
looking and laughed. “It comes from being a country girl.”

I laughed with her
. “I grew up in Bishop Georgia. Do you know where that is?”

“I don’t.
Is it near Addison where I grew up?”

“I don’t know where that is.”

We kidded around for awhile about who grew up in the smallest town. After everyone was finished eating, John opened another bottle of wine and the judge told us to listen up. She kicked off her shoes and propped her feet up on the coffee table.

“Sandy, you and Bill
will get your search warrant. Oh, Trudy will you go out to my car and bring my briefcase from the trunk? Here are the keys.”

She continued, “I’m going to write this search warrant to include everything in and around the Lessiter’s house.
If there are any outhouses, they get searched. Any vehicle on the premises will be searched. If there is a way to crawl under the house, then do so and search under there.

“I probably don’t have to tell you
, you will talk to no one about this, but me. Bill, you know about computers. If you find a computer, download it or whatever it is you do to get at the information.”

She had changed from a funny cute little woman to a tough six foot tall judge.
If I had been on trial in her courtroom, I would have been worried.

“What can I do to help, not in an FBI capacity but jus
t as a person who wants to help?” asked John.

“Actually, John, we could use some of your resources if you can get to some of the information without you
r boss or fellow co-workers knowing about it. I want all the information I can get on this Mackey character.”

I couldn’t remain still any longer, “I’ll be happy to act as a decoy.”

“How would you go about being a decoy, Judith?”

“I want to wear the
artsy type clothes like Julia wears and be her. I will go to work in the art gallery. If we can find a makeup artist to make me look like I have fading bruises that would help.”

“Actually, before I decided on going to law school, I was working at Disney World
, in Orlando, as a makeup artist. I’m you man, or woman. But I hesitate to let you do this though. It could be dangerous.”

Mark spoke up, “
I’ll be there to watch over her.”

“Me too,” said Trudy.

“Whoa, no you won’t. When I start using teenagers as decoys, lock me up.”

“I need you to help me with Rosa and the baby,
Trudy,” John said. “Remember, we bring them both home tomorrow.”

“Oh all righ
t, I’m just worried about Judith. I can’t wait to hold the baby.”

“By the way, I had a talk with Rosa while you both were gone.
We decided to name the baby Jennifer.”

I got all teary. “That was my mother’s name,” I said. “But I don’t remember her.
”

“I might have to come back tomorrow to see her,” the judge said.

She turned to Mark. “How do you plan on protecting Judith while she’s working in the gallery?”

Mark flexed his muscles, “I think I could take that old man down if I had to.
I plan to hide out in the stock room and come out only if and when I’m needed.”

“What are you going to do if he comes with someone else and they have guns?”

“Then I can at least call 911 on my cell phone.”

“Well, I don’t feel too comfortable with this
, but since we’re trying to keep this among ourselves, I’ll agree. Be careful, Mark. Oh, and I want to ask, can you trust the other worker in the gallery?”

“I trust Jean,” I said.
“He helped me find Julia, when I was sixteen. I’ve known him for over ten years now. He loves Julia in a brotherly sort of way. He’s been worried about her.”

CHAPTER 26

The next morning, John and Trudy left for the hospital to pick up Rosa and the baby. Sandy and Bill headed over to the Lessiter’s house to begin their search. Mark and I left for the art gallery.

Because I was dressed like Julia, Jean mistook me for her just like he had the first time I had seen him.

“Oh my God, my poor baby, who did this to you?”

“It’s makeup, Jean.
It’s me, Judith. I’m sorry I didn’t call and let you know. Julia is all right. She is in Houston in a psychiatric hospital. I’ll tell you all about it, later. Oh, by the way, this is Mark. I don’t believe you two have ever met.”

Jean
eyed Mark like a potential lover. Mark frowned at him. They shook hands. I found out that working in an art gallery was harder than it looked. Jean had to help me a lot. I didn’t know one artist from another. Julia had several of her paintings in there and I enjoyed looking at them, over and over.

She had
been experimenting with ink that looked like very thin oil. Her landscapes were misty. I liked them better than anything she had ever done. She had branched out and grown as an artist, that is, before she met Calvin Lessiter.

I enjoyed working in Julia’s art gallery
so much that I forgot, for awhile, why I was there. I checked with Mark in the stock room several times during the day. He looked very comfortable.

He had rigged u
p a chair using several boxes and was reading a cheap paperback book. When I read the title I laughed.

“Julia mu
st have left this here,” I said. “She likes romance novels.”

At the end of the day we closed up and went home.
We were discouraged but Mark said that, after all, we had only been at it for one day.

As we turned into the driveway at John and Rosa’s, we saw Trudy waiting for us on the front porch.
She looked excited as she ran out to meet us.

“W
ait til you see Jennifer, Judith. She’s so cute! She likes me. She sucked my finger and held my finger so tight like she didn’t want to let me go. I really love her.”

We had a joyful reunion with Rosa and the baby
. Trudy was right, Jennifer was adorable. Trudy and I fixed dinner. She asked if we could have spaghetti. We fixed garlic bread and salad, to go with the pasta, and dinner was ready. Setting the table, we included place settings for Sandy and Bill, but they didn’t make it until we were finishing up.

They came in carrying boxes.
When they started out to get another load, Mark and John jumped up to help them. There were twenty seven boxes in all. While they were stacking the boxes in the living room, Trudy, Sandy, and I cleaned up the kitchen and Rosa joined us to go through the boxes. She had put the baby to bed and said she wanted to do some adult stuff.

We
sat on the floor, Rosa in John’s lap. Bill opened the first box and I recognized the music box I had hit Mr. Lessiter over the head with, when he tried to rape me.

I had been a frightened sixteen
year old who thought she had found a kindly grandfather. I was naïve and far too trusting back then.

This box seemed to contain all I had left at the Lessiters.
There were school books, notebooks, a sweater, a pair of panties and some hair ribbons I used to tie around my ponytail.

As we opened up box after box, each one appeared to
be devoted to a different girl. I wondered if that meant there had been twenty seven girls.

Trudy understood immediately and began op
ening up boxes to see if one contained her stuff. She found her belongings in one of the boxes.

“I left everything there.
Where is the rest of my stuff?” She pulled everything out. “He must have thrown the rest out, like he wanted one box for each girl.”

“What about chain-of-custody
on this stuff, Bill?” John asked.

“Well, the judge told us to bring it here.
She said we would worry about the consequences later. She wants us to see if we can find any clues about where Lessiter may be hiding out.”

Sandy spoke up, “She‘s
going to come by tonight. Bill, don’t forget you’ll need to open the garage door when she gets close.”

Judge Meadows looked totally different when she arrived at 11:20 p.m.
She was wearing a wine colored suit with black leather pumps and a pale pink blouse.

Trudy offered to let her wear a pair of her jeans
, a t-shirt, and sneakers. To my surprise, she accepted. The clothes were size two, the shoes size five and they fit perfectly. I was glad Trudy liked the judge. She would be a good role model for Trudy.

We spent nearly the rest of the night sitting on the floor going through boxes.
Rosa was the first to go to bed at one a.m. She needed the rest after giving birth.

Most of th
e boxes contained school books and we were able to get the name of the girl for each box. As we identified each one, we taped the box up and taped the list of what was inside to the top along with the girl’s name.

When we were done it was 3:47 a.m.
John looked at his watch.

“You may as well spend the rest of the night here, judge.
We have plenty of room.”

“As tempting as that is, I have to decline.
I have to go home and feed my cat. I’ll get these clothes to you as soon as I can, Trudy. I appreciate the loan.”

“You can keep them,” Trudy said and we all laughed.
It was true hero worship.

The judge stood up and stretched and slung her purse over her shoulder.
“John, may I count on you to use your resources, in secret of course, to look up these names?”

“Absolutely, as soon as I’ve had a little sleep, I can interface with the main computer at the FBI.
I won’t be going in for a few days. I took maternity leave.”

We all laughed.

CHAPTER 27

The next day, or I should say later on that same day, Mark and I went back to the art gallery. Sandy and Bill went back to the Lessiter’s house. Rosa was teaching Trudy how to change a diaper when we left.

I was worried about Mark.
He didn’t say much these days but I knew he was hurting inside about the loss of Tracy, as we all were. He looked so angry that I was afraid of what he would do when he was face to face with Mr. Lessiter.

I was beginning t
o learn something about art. I was enjoying working in the gallery. Jean was a good teacher and was very patient with me.

At lunch time we still hadn’t se
en anything of Mr. Lessiter. Mark said he was going to pick up some lunch and asked us what we wanted. We said it didn’t matter.

He came back with a couple of muf
fuletta sandwiches. I never understood why you couldn’t get muffulettas anywhere else. It’s made with Sicilian sesame bread and originated in New Orleans. These sandwiches are so big there’s hardly anyone who can eat a whole one.

Jean made tea and we ate in the stock room
, between customers. As we were unwrapping our sandwiches, Mark took off his coat and hung it over the back of his chair. We had brought the small table and chairs from the showroom where Jean sometimes served customers tea.

When Mark swung his coat over the chair to hang it there, something in the pocket hit the back of the chair and made a loud noise.
I didn’t think anything about it at the time.

We decided to close at around 4:00 p.m.
Mark and I had had a long night and knew it would be another long night tonight.

Mark and I walked with Jean to his apa
rtment in the French Quarter. After saying goodbye, we continued down to the parking garage where Mark had parked the rental car. Just before we turned to go into the garage, I heard a car screaming down Royal Street seconds before Mark pulled me inside the garage.

We ran out to get the license plate number.
It was a steel gray Mercedes with license number POR40W. I wrote the number down and Mark called Bill on his cell phone.

We ended up in a bar
, next door to the parking garage, drinking Irish coffees. I felt guilty for not calling Mimi more often. I called her now to catch her up.

“Julia is doing remarkably well, Judith.
I was invited to go to one of the group family therapy sessions today. I expected to see a lot of crazy families but instead I met some really nice ordinary people. It’s changed my whole outlook about mental illness.”

“That’s the way I felt when I attended the group therapy sessions with Julia down in Florida when we were sixteen.”

Mimi sounded good and it never ceased to amaze me how young and healthy she seemed. She didn’t look sixty eight at all.

She talked to M
ark awhile and then we went John and Rosa’s. He had the grill going out back and was in the kitchen making a salad. He had wrapped corn on the cob in tinfoil, had potatoes baking in the oven and steak marinating in a shallow pan.

He was wearing an apron
that said, “The way to a pregnant woman’s heart is through her stomach.” He was grinning, but when he saw us he sobered up.

“What in the world happened?” He said, “You both look really shook up.
Judith, you’re as white as a sheet.”

“Someone tr
ied to run her over,” Mark said. “When I catch that son-of-a-bitch he’s going to wish he had never been born.”

“We’ll get him, Mark.
The judge is coming over for dinner. I made some progress today but I’ll save it until we finish eating. I suggest you save your news until then too. Sandy and Bill have found something else in that house and said they had some other news to share too.”