Ada Unraveled (16 page)

I needed the date of this funeral, for my
pocket calendar. But this wasn’t the time.

Hannah said, “No, he wasn’t, Gloria. It
seems we’ve all been duped. Eddie is alive, although not healthy.
My mom finally told me this morning. I could just choke her for not
telling me sooner, but she thinks she’s protecting me, us, like you
are. Well you aren’t. You aren’t protecting anyone by keeping these
fool secrets. Anyway, his aunts are helping care for him, but her
husband Luke is at large, and if he has killed Ada there is a real
chance he’s a danger to Eddie as well.”

Gloria’s eyes seemed to have doubled in
size. I felt my own expand. This was the first time I’d been given
truly concrete information about Ada’s husband and son. I promised
myself to stay on task and grill Hannah and Gerry later.

Gloria managed, “I did not know.” She looked
from one to the other of us, her eyes pleading. “I vant you to
know, dat I did my part to try to stop the beatings Ada suffered.
But she vasn’t going to leave Luke. She never vanted to leave Luke.
She couldn’t leave him. So…each time…I did vat I could to patch her
up. And, if Eddie is not healthy vy is not he coming in to see
us…?” Her voice trailed off at the last, an irrelevant
afterthought.

“He’s being cared for. His aunts are looking
in on him.” Hannah said.

Seconds ticked by. Realizing she wasn’t
going to get more from Geraldine Patrone or any of the rest of us,
and that we wouldn’t be deterred, Gloria slowly unfolded her arms
and turned to the filing case directly behind her. Loudly sighing,
she opened a drawer and began pulling folders out, first one, then
another, and finally a third, all full to overflowing. My heart
thumped louder.

There were photographs tucked in among the
sheets of paper.

I fought a rising fear. For the next hour we
flipped through vivid pictures of torture damage, and written
reports done in a simple language. The simplicity of the reports,
the frankness, the sometimes offhanded listing of the damage done
to the woman’s body was like reading from a repairman’s journal of
needed home repairs, which made it seem even more awful. But in the
end, the folders full of destruction and agony read like the books
and chapters of the Antichrist’s Bible. Passages of which I knew
would stick in my brain like thorns forever.

It took an hour to go through them all and
Gloria never left our side, answering our questions and pointing
out important information along the way. Clearly Ada Stowall’s
husband was evil. Though the reports never named him, they alluded
repeatedly to “suspicious” falls and “blunt object trauma of
unknown source”. All three of us used our phone cameras to copy
some of the pages we thought might be useful in an
investigation.

One thing became apparent as the visit
progressed: nurse Gloria had seen to it that detailed written
descriptions were frequently accompanied by photographic evidence—a
necessity for any criminal action that might evolve from the
nightmarish life of Ada Stowall. Indeed she had tried to protect
the woman, but the woman had been unable to protect herself.

Hannah suggested the three of us meet at the
Japanese Tea House in Pinto Springs Park to talk over what we’d
learned. The Tea House was a fine idea, because for the first time
in many days the famous California sunshine was showing its face.
After a short drive in our separate cars we regrouped and found a
small table off to the side of the outside patio seating. The sun
felt wonderful after our dark exploratory in the hospital
archives.

I began the conversation in my usual
fashion, breaking through the gray funk the recent hours had
produced.

“Do either of you get why no criminal
charges were ever filed in Ada’s case?”

“The Stowalls, they’re ubiquitous,” Hannah
said mysteriously. “Have you ever searched for them on the net?”
She was looking at Gerry, not questioning my research skills.

“Yes, Tom says they’re all through the CCSD
and PSPD,” Gerry said.

Hannah said, “They’re all through the state
of California government, too. My mother told me she thinks Senator
Barbara Miller is related to us through the Inyo County Stowalls. I
was thinking of giving her a call to see if I can’t get our
neighborhood zoning laws changed so we can keep more than two large
domesticated animals per half acre.”

Surprised, Gerry said, “How many do you have
now?”

“We have eight chickens and two goats for
fresh eggs and milk. But Peter thinks we should start raising
Llamas too. For their wool.”

“But how do you take vacations? It’s not
like you can take your chickens and goats to the kennel.”

Hannah said, “We don’t. Pete and I don’t
need vacations. Our life is great and except for Peter’s part time
position at the newspaper, completely stress-free. Once the
children are grown and on their own we’ll think about travel.”

“Oh,” Gerry sighed. “I live for my
vacations.”

“Stress-free,” I grumbled, thinking urban
farm-talk was getting me nowhere. They looked at me. I’d sat back,
intending to eavesdrop, functioning in the receive mode. But the
talk had wandered off course. I wanted to hear more about this
Stowall clan.

I said, “What I need are dates. Times and
places. For instance, when was Jake and Ada’s funeral? The one
where Eddie delivered his mother’s quilt?”

Gerry said, “I wondered about this myself,
after the bee. I asked my mom. She’s blurry now, you know. My
mom’s…kind of slipping. But she was positive they were buried on
September 26th, because, that was her parent’s anniversary.”

I hauled out my calendar book. That was a
Friday. I’d found Jake’s body on Applepine Ridge on the 22nd, the
Monday before. I made a note.

I said, “So, where was Jake’s body held, for
the extra days? Did the morgue have him from the 22nd to the
26th?”

Gerry said, “Probably. Tom said he was
pretty certain the county did an autopsy. A first autopsy. Trying
to determine the cause of death.”

“Yes. But they missed the snakebite damage
on his leg,” I muttered.

Hannah said, “So, the sheriffs were in
charge of this case.” I wondered why this was important to her.

Gerry said, “Sure. Ada’s home is in Iguana,
but Iguana is an unincorporated township with no police force of
its own. So Cleveland County Sheriff’s Department serves it.”

I said, “What was the time of death?”

Gerry shook her head. “Tom won’t talk to me
about this. I’ve tried. I guess…the truth is there are a lot of
secrets being kept in Cleveland County. My brother is concerned
about bumping into any of them. You know, stirring up a hornets’
nest.” She glanced away to the side. Uncomfortable.

Hannah said, “But we need to know the truth.
Where there are secrets, there are truths that need exposing.”

I noted the friction between them and
changed directions.

I said, “Perhaps the next move is to talk to
your mom, Ruth.”

She agreed. “How about lunch? Maybe
tomorrow?”

I told her that would be perfect.

I turned to Gerry and said, “Do you think
your mom might tell us more with a little coaxing?”

“Well…my mom fought a battle with brain
cancer a couple of years back. She’s doing fine as far as we can
tell, but now my parents live with us. The battle weakened both of
them. And, as I said, my mom’s memory is…not so crisp.”

I could also hear a note of unhappiness. I
said, “Maybe as time passes they’ll find the strength to return to
their former independence.”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “Sometimes it is a
strain, but other times I’m thrilled to have two live-in
babysitters. Like vacation time,” she said, eyeing Hannah who
assumed the saint’s pose, eyes raised to the heavens.

“Anyway, our boys love them, as well they
should. My parents raised seven children. I was literally the
middle baby. They’re good Catholics, but both my folks behave as if
they aren’t even related to the Stowalls. My dad’s Peter Beardsley
and my mom was Sylvia Tanner.”

So were they both Stowalls?
I needed
to spend more time with the genealogy.

A chill ran up my spine and I shivered
slightly, thinking of Matt’s comment about inbreeding. I was also
reacting to the wind. It had turned again, now coming from the
north, no doubt bringing more rain to our drenched land. And clouds
to cover the sun again.

She continued. “Anyway, the Beardsley name
is the one that connects with the Stowalls, somewhere back a couple
of generations. But you know how it is. As far as keeping up with
the rels, it’s a woman’s job, not a man’s. So I usually ask my mom
about the family.”

“Do either of you have any other ideas on
where I can begin my search?”

Hannah said, “Well, maybe the sisters. The
Stowall daughters. But they keep to themselves rather aggressively.
I’ve picked up pies at their apple pie restaurant in Julian and
they seemed downright rude to me. The only even slightly friendly
one is Sarah, and she’s brain damaged.”

Gerry made a disapproving face and said,
“Oh, Anne is nice. And, well, Mary is…in her own way. Martha’s a
bit…standoffish. But, I think they just value their privacy more
than most of us do. And maybe that’s because, well, we’re not sure
just why. That’s why we’ve asked you to look into this,
Rachel.”

I said, “What happened to Sarah? How did she
get damaged?”

Gerry said, “Don’t know. As I’ve explained,
my parents are no help. I even tried to ask Victoria once and she
grew intensely angry, so I stopped asking her personal questions.
She is a fiercely protective mother. You saw a little of that this
weekend, although she’s so sick now…”

“ALS. Yes, I know. A terrible way to die.”
Surprised at first, they stared at me.

“Then you looked up her meds?” Hannah
asked.

So she had seen me in Victoria’s room.

“Right.”

“What? Her meds?” Gerry looked back and
forth between us.

I shrugged and said, “I’m a snoop. It’s my
job description.”

Gerry smiled. “Huh. Sounds like fun.”

I said, “Okay, the sisters are noted.
Anything more?”

They glanced at each other. Hannah nodded.
Gerry said, “We can tell you that Victoria’s family is hiding some
ancient grievance which has affected them all very badly. It’s that
grievance we need to find.”

I tried another tack. “How high up does the
Stowall influence reach within the community? I’m having difficulty
believing that the cover up of Ada’s misery was the result of a few
conspiring local cops?”

Gerry sighed, and scanned the patio again. I
began to wonder if she thought there were spies out in the sparsely
occupied restaurant.

She said, “This isn’t for publication,
Rachel. But, Tom tells me the Stowall influence goes up to and
including the Chief of Pinto Springs PD, Chief Frank Broward.
Broward is a Stowall, but I think he’s okay. At least, I haven’t
heard anything bad about him. And Tom’s own bunch has a couple of
midlevel guys who are Stowalls as well.

“But, frankly I’m not convinced that’s the
reason for the cover up of the violence against Ada. I think it has
more to do with, well, history. I think it’s because her suffering
began so long ago—back in the good old days when what happened
between a man and his wife was thought to be a private business,
that it became an embarrassment for the department, a grievous
error in judgment they couldn’t admit to because it would harm
their image.

“And I think a lot of them told themselves
another old lie; that she was always falling down due to her
drinking. And unforgivably, a third, that hateful lie that maybe
she deserved it all on some level. You get enough lies lined up
together—even bad ones--and you can convince yourself to commit the
most atrocious acts of denial and omission.

“After a few years Luke and Ada became the
butt of jokes in the department as a kind of defense mechanism.
They dubbed him the Staircase Man because his wife fell down so
many of them. They hated him, of course, and at first they pitied
her. But finally they came to loath her as well, for her
weakness.”

She shook her head in disgust then
continued.

“And frankly I think they came to hate her
even more than Luke…because it was her fault that the whole
situation didn’t end. She could have brought an end to it, to their
macho thinking, by bringing charges.”

She stopped and took a sip of tea, her blond
curls blowing about her head in the increasing wind—mimicking her
rising emotions maybe.

Gerry continued. “I believe they know full
well Luke killed her. They’re just sitting on this thing, like
they’ve sat on it for years.”

I nodded, thinking that would be the easiest
answer. Police always look to the spouse first.

Hannah said, “You surprise me sometimes
Gerry. You’re very insightful.”

Gerry frowned slightly. “Thanks, I think.”
Her frown quickly lifted and she pulled her thin coat about her
shoulders. The temperature had lowered and a chill wind did what it
promised, brought in new dark clouds.

Hannah said, “What I mean is, even after a
couple of years of sewing with you I feel I really don’t know
you.”

“Well, it’s a group environment. It’s hard
to get close to any one person when there are so many competing
voices.”

“And mostly, we sew,” Hannah said, nodding
her agreement.

This exchange made me wonder how long it
would take me to become real friends with these quilters. I checked
my notes. Tried to move the conversation forward once more.

“Okay, can either of you tell me anything
more to explain why Ada’s body wasn’t autopsied.”

What I heard for the next few minutes blew
my mind almost as much as Ada’s gruesome medical records had.