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However, she couldn’t entirely escape the specter of Dawn Whitley. She’d had several meetings with Compton and Perkins, giving her account of the erratic events leading up to her confrontation with Dawn and recounting for them everything Dawn had told her. Her recollection skill was of tremendous help to them in filling in the blanks.
The detectives told her that the death threat voice mail had already raised the eyebrows of their audio specialists. “They said it was ‘hinky.’ They were in the process of analyzing it when we got the frantic call from Calder that Dawn was our culprit.”
Elle was also told that Dawn had initially remained silent and defiant during their interrogations. But after they played for her the recording that Calder had surreptitiously made on his phone while hiding in the dining room, her staunch avowals of innocence had begun to weaken.
In that dialogue with Elle, she had practically reconstructed her crimes and boasted of her cleverness. After hearing the recording, her court-appointed attorney impressed upon her that if she was tried and convicted of even one of the capital crimes for which she was accused—for instance, the murder of Charlie Portman—she would be eligible for the death penalty.
At her arraignment, she entered a guilty plea for every charge.
“Dawn’s sentencing hearing is pending,” Compton had told Elle at their last meeting. “Because of her homicidal tendencies, she’ll probably be sentenced to spend the rest of her life in the psych section of a penal institution, where she’ll be kept in solitary confinement. Prior to sentencing, you can address her and the court if you choose to.”
“No, thank you,” Elle had said.
Compton also had told her that the judge had denied Shauna Calloway’s request to interview Dawn from her jail cell, even via video. “He put it in the form of a chastisement for her even proposing it, telling her that a mass murderer shouldn’t be elevated to celebrity status. To quote, he said, ‘The perpetrators of such wanton criminal acts as mass shootings should instead be ground into obscurity. Request denied.’”
At the conclusion of their meeting, Perkins had passed Elle a business card. “From the president of an advocacy group for victims of violent crimes and their survivors. He asked that you call him. He’d like to invite you to speak at a conference this summer. I know you shun publicity, but think about it, Ms. Portman. You could do some good.”
For Perkins, it was a long speech. Elle became emotional as she took the card and thanked him for passing it along. “I’ll think about it.”
This evening, she related that exchange to Glenda, who’d brought carry-out Thai for their dinner. They were lingering over a glass of wine in her living room.
“As I said my goodbyes,” she told Glenda, “I realized that, in an odd way, I’m going to miss them.”
“They’re like the counselors at summer camp,” Glenda said. “Over a short period of time, you form a bond and then never see them again, but you also never forget them.”
Elle smiled over the analogy.
“And if you do make an appearance at that conference,” Glenda continued, “I’ll get Daddy to contribute lots of money to the organization. You’d be terrific.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“What happened to the other two?”
“The other two what?”
“Key witnesses. You told me there were five of you.”
“Oh. The older lady got a new pacemaker. She’s out of the hospital and doing fine. The young widower had been taken to relatives in Arkansas, where he’s decided to stay.” She looked wistfully into her wine. “I hope he recovers, finds happiness. Peace.”
“I hopeyoudo.” Glenda hesitated, then said, “Elle, Calder has been conspicuously absent for the past three weeks. As you know, I was leery of him and of the two of you together. But I’ve come around. As men go, he’s okay.”
Elle laughed. “High praise indeed.”
“So, where’s he been keeping himself, and what’s your status? I hope that for some reason I’m unaware of, you’re not about to burst into tears because I asked.”
“No, it’s all right. Mutually, we decided to stay apart until things settled down. There were spotlights on us, and things were complicated enough. We didn’t need another issue to explain or try to conceal.”
“Hmm, that sounds dense, and I don’t have time for density tonight.” She drained her wine and shouldered her purse.
“What’s your rush?”
“I’ve got a date.”
“Oh, someone serious?”
“Yes. He’s seriously rich.”
They laughed as they hugged goodbye. “Thank you for bringing dinner.”
