The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake (31 page)

I stood back and tried to look at the makeup’s effect. Not as good as Lisa Leann’s job, but passable.

I looked at my watch then grabbed my jacket and hurried to the Bronco.

As I drove toward my attorney’s office I decided it felt pretty good to know that Vonnie and her family were praying for me. Not that I deserved it. I still wasn’t on speaking terms with God, though I sat in church when I wasn’t sleeping off a night shift. I’d been surprised to see Wade there lately too, sitting right next to me as David sat between Vonnie and me.

“We all need a higher power, meaning God,” Wade had told me one night as he’d gone on another ride-along with me. “At least, that’s what I’ve been learning in AA.”

“How’s that going for you?” I’d asked.

“Been sober for several weeks now, though I don’t think I could have made it if Pastor Moore hadn’t helped me.”

“He’s not your sponsor, is he?”

Wade shook his head. “Nice try. But you know I can’t talk about that stuff, Donna. I can tell you that Moore has been counseling me, first down at the café and now at his office. Moore’s shown me
that the power of God is a very real thing.”

“So you’re putting it on God and not just a higher power, huh?” I asked, thinking on the language of what was probably the most famous twelve-step program out there.

“You should try it sometime,” Wade answered.

I gave him a look, and he smiled at me.

“Yeah, well...”

Wade gave me a sideways glance and grinned. “They say alcoholism is a disease, but as Pastor Kevin says, with God’s help, people can change.”

I only nodded. I hadn’t known a lot of recovered alcoholics, but maybe Wade could recover. At least I hoped so. There were so many things I could forgive him for, but I wasn’t sure I could forgive him for being a drunk. And even though he’d spent these last few weeks sober, his wasted years still stood between us.

I found a parking space near the card shop. I still had a few minutes before I had to go in, so I sat in the cab of my truck, trying to build up my nerve. I watched a dark green SUV pull into a spot near mine. A small dark-haired woman climbed out of the passenger’s side. It was the Long woman, Tina, and her tall but thin husband, Errol. They were early.

She saw my sheriff ’s Bronco and shot me a cross look as Errol scowled. Their faces told me their motivation for the lawsuit. Apparently it had been easier for them to deal with their grief by blaming me. Now, three years later, they were ready to make me pay.

I shook my head. How could I follow that angry couple up the stairs? How could I face their wrath, their loss, a loss I understood
more than anyone realized?

I closed my eyes.
God, I can’t go in there. I can’t.
I took a deep breath.
If you’re really there, please help me.

It was ironic, me praying to God. We hadn’t been on speaking terms in years. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in him; it was just I didn’t think he believed in me.

Do you care about me?
I asked.
Because if you do, I need to know.
If I believed you loved me, I think it would make a difference; it would
give me a reason to trust in you.

I sighed. What a dumb prayer. I checked my makeup in my rearview mirror then got out of my truck, feeling heavy with dread.

It was time to face the past.

As I stood at the top of the stairs, I hesitated, knowing that when I pushed open the office door, my life would never be the same.

When I reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and there was Goldie. She silently greeted me with a hug then ushered me inside, past the angry eyes in the waiting room, and into the conference room where a court reporter, as well as Chris and his friend, Van Lauer, shuffled through papers and conferred in low voices.

Goldie, who looked most professional—and different somehow— in her smart red business suit, settled me into a gray leather chair at a large mahogany table before disappearing to return with a steaming cup of coffee. “Black. Just the way you like it,” she said with a smile.

Van, who I’d learned in recent days was the attorney who’d been hired as a legal consultant to represent the interests of the Boulder County Sheriff ’s department, turned to me. He was handsome with his gray hair combed back from his tanned face. “Now, Donna, as you know, in a few moments the other legal team, as well as the Longs, will be invited in. Their attorney will have a chance to ask you a lot of questions about the details of the accident and rescue. A lot of the questions will be routine, but some of them will be rather pointed and meant to trip you up. But even so, don’t forget this is a fact-finding mission. Though the other side hopes they can trip up your testimony so they either settle out of court or contradict your testimony at trial. But try not to worry. We have truth on our side. Just don’t allow your sorrow over the death of the baby to lead you into any kind of false confessions of guilt. Okay?”

I nodded as Chris stood up. He wore a dark blue suit and maroon tie and reeked of hometown charm tinged with sophistication. He walked over to where I sat then bent down to give me a hug of encouragement. “It’s going to be okay, Donna.”

I nodded.

“Did I tell you we’ll have a special assistant in the room today?” He motioned to Goldie, who said, “I’m in charge of filling the water pitcher, refilling the coffee cups, and praying for you,” she said.

I smiled weakly.

Too soon the Longs and their legal counsel faced us at the conference table. After a lot of preliminary questions about who I was, how long I’d been a sheriff’s deputy, and the details of my career and marital status, as well as the date, time, and circumstances of the accident, Mr. Lauer said to me, “Donna, in your own words”—he gave a stern look at the balding Long attorney, a Mr. Anderson—“tell us what happened on the night of March the 15th, three years ago.”

I’d admired the effect his glare had on Mr. Anderson, who suddenly seemed subdued.
So, that’s why they pay Lauer the big bucks—his
commanding presence.

Time passed as I relived the horror of being flagged down by Leonard Davidson during a torrential rainstorm. That’s when I discovered a sedan beneath the flooded canyon river, a river yawning past its banks.

I described how Leonard had helped me tie myself to a nearby pine tree with a long piece of rope I kept in the back of my Bronco. I explained how I’d braved the frigid waters, alone; how I’d pulled Tina Long from the hood of the car; how she’d grabbed me, pulling the both of us beneath the debris-filled current and how I’d fought to turn her around so I could safely pull through the wild current, using the rescuer’s hold. I told how I’d managed to pull her to the bank only to have her tell me that her baby was still in the car.

The faces in the room were replaced by the drama as it swam before me. I quietly told of going back into the floodwaters; of becoming trapped beneath the water when the roof of the car had lodged against my foot; of finally breaking free to the surface for a breath. I told how I pulled myself down to the window of the car by the door handle, then entered the car, freeing the baby from her car seat.

The tears came as I told how I’d been struck by the log as I neared the safety of the bank and described the moment when I’d realized little Bailey Ann had been ripped from my grasp.

I could hear the soft sounds of weeping, and I realized the sounds came from both Tina Long and from me.

I took a sip of water and tried to recover my composure.

After a few more clarifying questions about my testimony from Chris, it was Mr. Anderson’s turn to cross-examine me. “You didn’t have a proper grip on the baby, did you?”

“Proper grip?”

“You let go of Bailey Ann Long, and that is in fact why she drowned. Correct?”

“Let go? Well, I...”

“You’ve already admitted to letting go in your earlier testimony. Now for the sake of clarification, tell us again. You let go of the baby, correct?”

“I did, but—”

“So in other words, the baby was not secured? You had not secured the baby with a rope or tie or other means of restraint. Correct?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So, because of your actions, you failed to bring the baby to safety. Is that correct? Please answer yes or no.”

I felt my face burn. “Failed? Yes, I...”

“Then, Deputy, let me get this straight. Are you agreeing that it was your actions or failure to act that led to baby Bailey Ann Long’s death?”

I looked up, and my eyes met Tina’s brown ones. She looked absolutely stricken. I answered steadily, “I’ve replayed the scene, in my mind, time and time again...”

The Long attorney spoke as if rebuking me. “I’m sure you have. Deputy, you’ve already admitted to letting go of the baby, you’ve admitted to failing to secure the baby to yourself. So, you’re saying it was your negligence that cause baby Bailey Ann’s death? Is that correct?”

“No. I did everything possible to save her.”

“Did you? But you let go, you failed to secure the child. Let’s stop playing games. You and your actions caused the drowning death of Bailey Ann Long. Correct?”

My eyes held Tina’s. “I would have done anything to save your baby.”

Anderson interrupted. “But you didn’t save her, did you? I need a yes or a no.”

“Well, no. But Tina, I would have traded my life for the life of your daughter, if it had been possible.”

Before Anderson could strike back, my spirit warmed and flooded with peace as a still small voice whispered to my soul,
“That, my
child, is what I did for you. My son exchanged his life for yours.”

I was so startled I sat speechless.

Anderson barked, “Deputy, by your answers we could summarize that it was in fact your negligence that led to baby Bailey Ann Long’s death. Am I correct? We’re still waiting for your answer.”

I blinked, in awe of the sweet presence I felt.

“Answer the question, Deputy.”

Before I could regain my composure, there was a commotion across the table from me as Tina shook her head then whispered to her husband. Errol signaled their attorney, who leaned into a hushed conversation between the three of them.

Their attorney looked up and said to Chris and Mr. Lauer, “My clients have requested a short break from these proceedings. Let’s say we reconvene in about twenty minutes.”

Mr. Lauer stood, looking as if he had received some sort of secret signal. “Take all the time you need,” he said.

Chris stood too. “We’ll step out of the conference room and let you confer together.”

Mr. Anderson nodded.

Once Chris, Mr. Lauer, and I were in the safety of Chris’s office, I asked, “What’s going on?”

Chris smiled then stretched. “I’m not making any promises, but Tina’s interference with the proceedings could be a good sign.”

Mr. Lauer nodded in agreement and flashed me a winning smile. “Let’s not get our hopes up, but this could be a promising development.”

Goldie, who’d stayed behind in the conference room to refill coffee cups, rushed through the office door, looking like she’d just discovered the legendary bandit gold, rumored to still be hidden in these parts.

“Did you overhear anything?” Chris asked her.

“I certainly did,” she said. “As I was walking out the door, Mrs. Long was pleading with her attorney to stop the proceedings. Donna’s emotional testimony about her valiant rescue attempt really shook her up.”

I felt my mouth drop open. “Then all this could be over?”

Van winked at me. “Depends on how greedy and persuasive their attorney is. But let’s remain hopeful.”

Goldie rushed at me with a box of tissues. “For heaven’s sake!” she cried. “Why didn’t Lisa Leann sell you a tube of
waterproof
mascara? You look like a panda!”

Chris laughed. “Better take this opportunity to freshen up,” he told me.

I scurried out of the office and into the bathroom. There on the sink was a copy of Clay’s “Local Hero” article perched in a prominent place on the counter, no doubt for Tina to see. It was a certainty that she had.
That Goldie.
I grinned at my mottled reflection in the mirror, suddenly feeling loved, not just by Goldie, but by...
by God himself.

For the first time since the early days of my childhood I felt God’s presence. It was as if he was wrapping me in a glow of love from the inside out. In the depths of my heart, I quietly whispered to him,
Lord, I do believe. I believe in you, in the work of your son dying for
my sins. I trust you with my life, regardless of what happens next.

When I walked back into the waiting room, the Longs’ attorney was saying his good-bye to Chris and Mr. Lauer. As Tina passed me, her eyes held mine for an instant, as if she was releasing some deep anguish from her inner being. Then she and Errol were gone.

My attorneys and I waited until we heard Goldie lead the group down the stairs. It was only when they were safely out of hearing distance that Chris let out a whoop. “You did it, Donna! It was the power of your testimony that sent them running.”

Mr. Lauer gave me a hug. “It’s over; go home and celebrate.”

When Goldie returned she encircled me in her arms. “Girl, you’re finally free of this nightmare. Oh, I can’t wait till you tell the potluckers! This is an answer to prayer!”

My eyes flooded, and I could feel what was left of my mascara melt down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but laugh. “It was Lisa Leann’s makeup that did it. How could they war against someone who looked as pitiful as me?”

Goldie pulled back from yet another hug and watched me wipe another streak across my face with the back of my hand. “Oh dear, you are a mess” was all she could say, laughing and crying at the same time.

It was only twenty or so minutes later when I slid into one of the corner tables at Apple’s with David. By now, most of my makeup had been wiped off.

“You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” David said.

“You can say that again,” I agreed. “But the news is good. The Longs have dropped their lawsuit against me.”