few minutes. He told me he saw everything. He’d already called the police so there was no point in me hanging around. So reluctantly, I left.
She had accidentally died. I’d done nothing wrong. I was devastated. Nothing else I could do for her, however I could save myself. I could imagine all the photographers following the police and snapping pictures of me kneeling beside her body.
Leaving was a big mistake. I didn’t realize just how big at the time. I admit my thoughts were entirely about myself. I should have sat by her side until the police came. If I hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have been desecrated. That happened because of me. It’s hard to live with because I had grown so fond of her.
Chapter Twenty-five
Congressman Kidde had walked a continuous circle around his desk while relating his two day adventure. “Have you ever seen anyone die, right before your eyes?” After an audible sigh, he sank into his chair, swiveled away from Sandy, and put his head down in his hands.
Sandy sat half-stunned. It was as though she had watched Freddy himself die slowly before her eyes. When she entered his house two hours ago, she was caught up in the mystery surrounding the poor woman found dead and penetrated on a Florida beach. What happened on the beach that night? Who was she? How did she come to be there? Sandy had wanted to know every detail. Now she knew more than she wanted to know. He had explained too much.
She was astonished that this uptight conservative man had poured out his innermost thoughts to her. She had no interest in his erotic fantasies. It was enough to know he had them in abundance. Obviously, he harbored guilt over his behavior and failure to save Betty Jo’s life. Had he been engrossed hopelessly in some sort of cathartic story telling? Had he a psychological need to bare his soul to Sandy in an act of contrition to gain absolution?
After a few moments, he swiveled around, straightened in his chair, and forced a smile. “Now you know everything. Freddy is the one who has stripped himself bare. I’m at your mercy. You know enough to destroy me. Nothing I can do about it now.”
“Geez Freddy, did you have to go into such detail?”
“I wanted someone to understand the entire episode. You told me not to leave out the embarrassing stuff.”
“I meant I could handle it, not that I wanted to hear your heavy breathing.”
“No doubt you’ve been judging me all the time I was divulging my innermost thoughts to you.”
She studied his face. How had this prominent politician managed to place his entire life on the edge of devastation with a routine drive to Florida? He gave a stranded woman a ride and was, at first, disinterested in her—she wasn’t even pretty. His imagination began to run wild when she explained she was a stripper from Baltimore. From that point on the trip became a fantasy adventure for him. She simply wanted the ride and was unemotional about him. His infatuation with her grew into a hopeless sexual obsession. At the end, she was gorgeous, he couldn’t live without her, and he was reduced to a blithering idiot willing to lick her zebra-striped shoes.
“Of course, I’ve been judging you. You’re a childish, selfish, and passionate man. I’ll excuse the passion. All of us are subject to losing control over a passion. Did I mention arrogant? You’re too used to privilege. You’re one of those people who never hesitates to walk through any door marked ‘private,’ and then you walk out if what you find on the other side displeases you.”
“It’s true I’ve grown quite accustomed to a certain privileged routine. I know I didn’t react properly in such an emergency.”
“Why didn’t you try CPR?”
“I didn’t think about it and don’t know how to do it anyway. I’ve never thought about things like CPR and Heimlich. I’m not really a people person. You know, touchy feely stuff. I’ve been insulated from such physicality. I don’t think about having emergencies. I have minions to take care of such matters. Of course, we don’t know if CPR would have helped. Even someone skilled might not have been able to save her.”
“That’s true. Some of your ineptitude is forgivable. Few of us are well prepared for a panic.” She wished she could stop judging him and get on with the missing details. “The man you left behind on the beach with her body was, of course, Toby.”
“Didn’t I say that? He must have followed us from Jacksonville to the beach, although I didn’t notice. Anyway, that’s why I paid the blackmail. I didn’t want anyone to know I was there. I’m too well known.”
She said, “I’m surprised Betty Jo walked down to the beach and left her shoulder bag in the car. She seemed to be protecting it so closely during the entire trip.”
“Once we crossed into Florida, I could see her really relax. Much happier. The trip was almost over. She’d see her mother in a few hours. She was in Florida where she could stretch out in the sun. She changed into the bikini and we locked her clothes and her handbag in the trunk. She was okay with that.
“What happened to her belongings?”
“After I got home, I started to burn them...her stuff...and then I hesitated. I couldn’t do it. Those things didn’t belong to me. They were hers. They were a confirmation of her. Evidence of her existence. Could be she didn’t own anything else. Her mother might like to have them.”
“Was there a gun in her shoulder bag?”
“No gun. She had a roll of money wrapped with a rubber band, eight thousand dollars mostly fifties. That’s what she was protecting all along.”
“You could’ve located the mother and given her the money.”
“I did. You think I’d steal it? The address was on a letter in the handbag. She’d told me her mother was hurting for money. I had the money delivered to her mother anonymously and I added some. Not the personal items that would be too risky.”
“So the mother still doesn’t know her daughter is dead. That’s terrible, Freddy. Again you took the easy way out.”
“I know and I’m so sorry. After all, I was hiding. Later I burned everything else. I couldn’t sleep with her stuff in my house. It was as if she was there.”
“You should have told the mother. She deserves to know. Right now, we are the only two people in the world who know the identity of that dead woman. I’m sorry, but I’m going to locate the mother and tell her. What’s her name?”
“Marlene Hodges. I have her address. Betty Jo still used Hodges as well. And when you see Mrs. Hodges, you’ll tell her about the necrophile? And how her daughter’s abused body laid on the beach like debris from an offshore wreck until the next day? And later on a slab at the morgue tagged Jane Doe? You see the problem?”
“Christ, I don’t know. Yes, I suppose I should tell her about the abuse. She fought back the urge to take him by the lapels and shake him, but she wanted him to turn himself in so Betty Jo would be identified officially. So she could rest in peace and the Privado Beach mystery be resolved.
“You’re angry with me.”
“And horrified you didn’t stay and protect her body regardless of the cost to you. Shame on you. That was really shitty, there’s no other word.”
“I wish I could do it over.”
“That’s not good enough.” She poured the last of the cold coffee into her cup.
“Isn’t it strange that we’ve become connected by all this? Though we’ll now go our separate ways, you’re the only person who can appreciate the entire affair.”
“We’re not connected and stop begging for my forgiveness.”
He turned to face her. “Maybe with time....”
“You’re never going to get it.”
He pointed to the empty silver coffee pitcher. “Would you like something stronger? Mrs. Wolfe makes a dynamite Bloody Mary.” He reached over and buzzed his secretary.
She nodded “Sounds good. After that story, some form of medication is exactly what I need.”
She got up slowly from her chair, walked over, and looked out at the peaceful panorama that was his backyard. Flourishing greenery surrounded everything in view. Green beyond green. Half way down the gentle slope
