“That sounds serious. Like what?”
“Let’s don’t go into it now. I think it’s better in person.”
“When?”
“Now, if possible. It shouldn’t take long. I have an appointment at nine, but I could swing by in the next half hour.”
“That sounds okay. Kathy’s coming over in a bit, but I suppose that would work. Can you give me a hint?”
“I will when I get there. It’s really no big deal. See you shortly.”
I signed off before she had a chance to change her mind.
I leaned against the counter in Liza’s kitchen, watching her decorate a cake. She wore an oversize white apron over her jeans and white T-shirt. A scarf was tied around her head to keep her hair out of her eyes and off the cake. I could see one curve of the silver locket visible under the apron bib.
“How’s your granddaughter?”
“She’s great. I know everybody says this, but she really is gorgeous. Big eyes, little pink bow mouth, and this fine brown hair. I can’t wait to get my hands on her. Marcy let me hold her for a half a minute, but she was hovering the whole time so it was no fun at all.”
She’d smoothed on the first two coats of frosting before I arrived and she was now piping an elaborate design on the top. “This is for a kid’s birthday party. Actually, a thirteen-year-old who’s into Dungeons and Dragons, in case you’re wondering.”
She’d set up a series of parchment-paper cones, each filled with a different vividly tinted icing, each capped with a metal tip cut to produce a specific effect-leaves, shells, scrolls, flower petals, and rope bordering. With a practiced hand and steady pressure, she created a dragon with a strange dog-shaped face. Switching cones, she defined its arched body in vibrant lime green and orange frostings, and then added strong red frosting to detail the flames that twisted from the dragon’s mouth.
“I’ve seen that dragon. It was on a kimono hanging on the back of Daisy’s bathroom door.”
“That was her mother’s. I’ve got the image burned indelibly on my brain.”
I felt myself tripping backward to the notion of Violet buried alive, as though i were in the car instead. Given the size of the Bel Air, there would have been sufficient oxygen to last for a while. The suffocation would have been slow, shutting her down by degrees. Anyone with asthma or emphysema would identify with her panic and suffering. I could only guess. Still, I found myself breathing deeply for the pure pleasure and relief.
When Liza finished decorating the cake, she opened the refrigerator door and tucked it on a shelf. She untied her apron and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair. “What’s this about?”
I’d hoped to be subtle, working my way around to the subject by some delicate route, but I’d been sidetracked by the image of the dragon and came right out with it. “I think you lied about Foley.”
“I did?” She seemed taken aback, her tone tinged with surprise, as though falsely accused. Thousands might have lied about Foley, but surely not her. “About what?”
“The time he came in.”
She picked up and then put down the tube of bright blue icing she’d used to form the ground on which the dragon writhed. Apparently my approach wasn’t that persuasive because she didn’t ‘fess right up.
I tried again. “Look, Liza. His story’s been consistent for the past thirty-four years. He may have omitted an item or two, but most claims he’s made have been verified.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I did the work myself and I’m here to testify.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Liza, please don’t play games. It’s too late for that. My guess is he got home when he said he did and your account was just bullshit.”
“What do you want me to say, that I’m sorry?”
“No point apologizing to me. He’s the one you wronged.”
“I didn’t wrong him. Everything that’s happened to him he brought on himself.”
“With a little help from you.”
“Excuse me. Did you come over here to lay shit on me? Because that, I can do without. I’ve got a lot going on.”
I raised my hands. “You’re right. I take it back. Life is tough enough as it is.”
“Thank you.”
“Just tell me what happened. Look, I’m sorry about Violet, but I don’t understand what went on that night. Were you in the house or not?”
“Kind of.”
“Meaning what? Somewhere in the neighborhood?”
“Don’t be a shit or I won’t say another word.”
“Sorry. I forgot myself. Please go on.”
There was a pause and then, reluctantly, she said, “Ty came to the house. He parked his truck in the alley and we necked. I was less than twenty feet away so if anything had happened, I’d have been right there. Violet knew he was coming over because we talked about it and she said it was fine.”
“Good. That helps. How long was he there?”
“A while. When I finally came in, the bedrooms were dark. I looked in Daisy’s room and knew she was okay. I never thought to check their bedroom. He was probably there if he said he was. Afterwards, I couldn’t admit I was irresponsible so I made up a story about the time. Next thing I knew, this deputy was pressing me for answers so what was I supposed to do? By then, I’d painted myself into a corner and I had to stick to my guns.”
“Got it.”
“Good. So now you know.”
There was a moment wherein she was thinking that the subject was closed and I was thinking we were finally going to get some place. I had a theory and I was gingerly feeling my way. “You went to live with your dad in Colorado, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I hear that arrangement didn’t work out so hot.”
“It was short-lived. A failed experiment, but such is life.” She crossed to the kitchen faucet where she dampened a sponge so she could wipe down the counter. Preoccupied, she scooped a few crumbs into her palm and tossed them into the sink.
“Is this painful to talk about?”
She smiled briefly. “I don’t know. I’ve never had occasion to talk about it.”
“The first time we met, do you remember what you said?”
“About what?” She moved her decorating tips aside, wiping under them as well.
“Losing Violet and Ty. You said, ‘You play the hand you’re dealt. There’s no point in dwelling on it afterwards.’”
“I must have been waxing philosophical. It doesn’t sound like me.”
“Did you get pregnant?”
Her eyes sought mine. “Yes.”
“From that night?”
“First and last time with the guy and boom.”
“What happened to the baby?”
“I put her up for adoption. Would you like to see a picture?”
“Please.”
She set the sponge aside and reached for the heart-shaped locket, pulling it out from under the bib of her apron. She opened it and leaned forward, holding it so I could see. There was a black-and-white photograph of Violet. She flipped the inner rim, revealing a second frame hidden behind the first. In it there was a photo of a newborn. The baby looked frail and wizened, not one of the worst I’d ever seen but certainly not the best. Liza looked down, her expression wistful and proud. “She was so tiny. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her, how delicate she was. Know what Violet said when she gave me this? She said, ‘That’s for your true love. I predict within a year you’ll know exactly who it is.’ And so I did.”
“Did you get to hold her?”
“For a while. The nurse advised against it, but I knew it was the only time I’d ever get to spend with her. I was fourteen years old and my father wouldn’t consider my doing anything else. I should have stayed with my mom. Despite her problems, she was a good egg and would have found a way to make it work.”
“You have no idea where the baby is?”
“Probably in Colorado. A few years ago, I wrote her a letter and left it with the agency so if she ever wants to reach me, she’ll have my name and address.”