A/N: I understand no one wants to read sad chapters, but they serve a purpose and we're almost through this period. I love the varied and differing perspectives and responses to the last chapter. Thank you for sharing your views, critical and complimentary. Once again, Olitz is endgame. Bujuman, this Olitz is special, but for a different reason. Clio1792, loved your analysis and the adage, never heard of it and will add it to my wall. KJassicaMartin1, I like that you remember the Mr. Freeze reference. That was one of the many bread crumbs I've been leaving. Crabapplect, triniflava47 you'll get your answers in this chapter. CeresHelena, Eu entendo que vocêe estouimpressionadovocê usa o GoogleTranslatepara lerfanfic. Obrigado.A tristezanão vai durarmuito mais tempo. Hope I got that right. Here we go.
Chapter 9. James
Back at Fitz' Apartment
The memories come surging back like an out-of-control and doomed locomotive and there is no time to slam on the brakes, to stop the derailment. There is no time to prepare for the emotional upheaval, the surge of painful feelings that have begun to overwhelm him. There is no time to hide. So for three days he lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor in the fetal position as the painful emotions consume him, torture him as he relives the memories of that fateful day, as he relives the memories of Sabrina.
On the first day the sun rose and set as the memories transported him to an emotional hell where he wrestled with the demons named guilt, anger, and shame. On the second day the sun rose and set as he screamed out to the heavens for relief, to take away the mental and physical pain. On the third day the sun rose and set and he broke through the torture. And at the end of the third day he got up from the cold, tiled floor and the emotional healing begins.
He looks into the mirror as he shaves and is repulsed by the image reflected so he avoids it as he brushes his teeth. He showers, dresses in fresh clothes, and tosses his three-day-old soiled clothes into the trash. Having not eaten for three days, he's weak and light-headed, so he makes his way to the kitchen and prepares a light dinner of scrambled eggs, dry toast, coffee, and Gatorade; not for enjoyment but for nourishment.
For the next two days he sits in his apartment contemplating the resurfaced memories and all of the events that surround them. He thinks about how naïve he was not to know about his parents' true beliefs on race. He thinks about how his naïveté resulted in Sabrina's death and tears well in his eyes. He thinks about how burying those memories deep into his mind almost cost Olivia her life. The parallels are uncanny and the guilt and shame deepen. After a few moments, he reaches for his phone.
XXX
"Psst", the old woman beckons him over with her bony fingers.
Fitz walks slowly over to the woman, not in the mood for one of their playful conversations with his new friend."
"Where have you been? Haven't seen you around here since last month", looking at him curiously.
"Olivia and I are taking a break – giving each other some space", he says solemnly. He doesn't know why he always feels the need to tell the woman everything going on in his relationship with Olivia.
"A break!" The old woman shrieks, adjusting the shawl around her thin shoulders. "A break from what? Is this her idea?"
He nods.
"This won't do. No, this won't do at all. Too much work has been done."
Fitz looks at the woman quizzically, unsure of what she's talking about and quite frankly not in the mood to care.
"Don't pay her any mind", waving her hand dismissively in the air. "She's just scared."
"I'm afraid it's more than that. Terrible things have happened. There are things she doesn't know about me."
Helen Teller looks at the man's dejected face for a long moment before speaking. She knows she cannot overstep.
"You go in there and tell her – tell her everything. She'll understand."
Fitz gives the woman a strange look, nods, then walks across the hall to Olivia's apartment.
XXX
Olivia holds the door open allowing Fitz to enter the apartment. He no longer uses his key. As she closes the door she sees Mrs. Teller closing her door. Fitz looks around the space thinking how much has happened since the last time he was here.
"Hi", he says, giving her a weak smile.
"Hi", she says softly, walking across the room and looking down at the floor.
"Thank you for allowing me to come over."
He looks at her sadly and her heart breaks again. He doesn't look well. He doesn't look like he's been sleeping.
"I just needed to tell you again how sorry I am for putting you in danger. I now realize it was all my fault - I was reckless. I promised you I would always protect you - never let anything happen to you and I let you down. My brother …"
He shakes his head and his eyes brim with tears. Olivia wraps her arms around her body at the memory.
"I know you hate me, and I can't blame you. I understand."
Shocked by his words she looks up at him because she could never hate him. She just needed time to think, time to try to make sense of everything.
"Liv, all of my life people have called me naive and I guess I am, and I'm not proud to admit it", he says sadly. "My naïveté almost cost you your life and I will never forgive myself for that. But I'm not here seeking your forgiveness. I don't deserve it."
She doesn't want to cry but a lone tear trickles down her cheek and she swipes it away quickly with the back of her hand.
"Liv, this past month, since we've been apart, has been extremely difficult for me. I've missed you so much." He looks at her with remorse and regret. "But being alone has allowed me to reflect on my life and what happened to you - what he did to you, and my parents. It's been a painful process but I now have answers. I now remember everything."
She looks at him and wonders what he is talking about.
"When you asked me how I couldn't know about my family's racist beliefs I really didn't have an answer because I didn't understand it myself. Now I do."
He begins to pace around the room and she furrows her brows, following his movements with her eyes.
"Liv, there is something you don't know about me - something you deserve to know."
He stops pacing and looks at her nervously with guilt and shame etched into his handsome face, and he begins to tell her everything.
"When I was 17 years old I was hospitalized, sent to a mental institution for almost a year - for nine months actually. The doctors said I experienced some kind of traumatic event that I repressed, causing me to shut down – become catatonic. I didn't remember anything about what happened for all of these years – until last week when all the memories came flooding back."
She looks at him in astonishment.
"It was the year before I was to graduate high school. It was the year I met Sabrina."
God, he hasn't said her name out loud since that day.
"I fell in love with her - we fell in love actually. She was 15, kind and funny, and had the most beautiful voice. And I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen."
He smiles weakly at the memory and rubs his forehead because that's what he does when he nervous and uncomfortable.
"I wanted my family to meet Bri – to meet the girl I was in love with, so one day I brought her to our home. We were just talking and listening to music in my bedroom, then we started making out. It was all innocent - just kissing. We were just kids really, but my mother caught us and she called in my father."
He walks to the window and stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. It's raining in Phoenix today.
"They yelled such horrible things at Bri, using words I'd never heard them use before. They blamed her for seducing me when, in fact, I was the one who pursued her. I think Bri always knew we shouldn't be together but I convinced her ..."
"Bri – she was so scared and she just wanted to go home but they kept shouting at her, berating her – saying those awful things." He shakes his head at the memory.
"She looked at me with the saddest eyes, pleading for me to help her. She just wanted to go home - wanted to get away from them - to escape their shouting."
He shakes his head again and silently stares out the window for a few minutes. Olivia looks at him curiously. She has never seen him this distraught and it frightens her.
"Bri ran from my bedroom and down the staircase. She must've lost her footing – tripped or something - because she fell down the stairs. When I heard her scream I ran to the hall and saw her laying at the bottom of the staircase, with blood coming from her ear and mouth. She was so twisted and mangled, Liv."
His body begins to tremble and Olivia gasps and clutches her chest from across the room.
"I guess I had an emotional breakdown or something because I'm told I didn't speak for weeks after …. That's when my parents sent me away."
Finally he turns and looks at her, tears now cascading down both their faces. Olivia is stunned and is finding it difficult to breathe.
"When I was discharged I still didn't know why I was hospitalized, but I knew I wasn't the same person - I just didn't feel the same. I was numb and didn't feel anything emotionally for a very long time. And that's how I lived my life, not feeling, focused on work and not interested in emotional attachments of any kind. That worked well for a long while until I met you that day on the plane, in the taxi actually." He smiles at her weakly. "I hadn't felt anything in years, Liv, but you made me feel something on that plane. That's how I knew you were the one."
Her heart is breaking for him. She can't believe his family did this to him, kept something like this from him for all these years. They're worse than she imagined.
"Liv …" He opens his mouth to speak but the words won't come."
She looks at him curiously, wondering what he is finding so difficult to say. She nods at him, encouraging him to speak.
"What is it, Fitz. Say it", taking a few steps toward him.
Filled with shame, he looks down at the floor, then raises his head slowly and looks into her eyes.
"Liv - Sabrina was black."
She freezes and her eyes almost pop from her head. Now everything about his family makes sense.
"My parents, the so-called liberal Christians, didn't want me and Sabrina together because of something as superficial as the color of her skin although they espoused racial equality. And I didn't know."
He shakes his head and looks down at the floor again, studying the familiar pattern in the rug under the coffee table.
"Liv, I brought you into a house of hate – a house filled with racists and you almost died - like Sabrina - because of me. And I'll never forgive myself for that."
A long silence fills the air until Olivia finally finds her voice and speaks as she takes a few more steps toward him.
"Fitz, we are not responsible for the behaviors of others, especially our parents." She gives him a knowing look and he nods. "You and Sabrina were two young and innocent kids who fell in love, who didn't consider color or race. You two were idealistic in a world where some believed your love was wrong - inappropriate. But the two of you knew otherwise, even at 15 and 17."
"I feel so guilty, Liv – so ashamed."
"Fitz, you have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed. You did nothing wrong. What your parents did to you and Sabrina was just wrong. You lost someone you loved deeply and you never got the chance to mourn her – to say good-bye."
He looks at her curiously as she takes his hand in hers and looks into his sad eyes.
"A very smart person once told me that grieving is a process, and you were denied the right to grieve Sabrina. But it's not too late, Fitz, you can still mourn her. You can still mourn the beautiful young girl who captured the heart of a young boy. Mourn Sabrina and mourn 17-year-old Fitzgerald. Maybe mourning can be the first step to forgiving yourself – to healing."
Her words give him permission to let go and his legs buckle, and she is on the floor with him, holding him, rocking him, and loving him.
"Don't swallow the pain, babe. Just let your heart break. Let it out."
"I loved her, Liv. I loved her with all of my heart."
"I know. I know." She holds his head against her breasts and rubs her hand up and down his arm.
"It's my fault she's dead. I promised to protect her." The memories are still overwhelming and he's finding it difficult to breathe.
"No, no. It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You just wanted to share the most beautiful and natural feeling in the world. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong."
"They made us feel like our love was dirty. They wanted me to feel foolish for loving Bri. I didn't want to live knowing she was dead. I took the coward's way out." His voice is broken as he tries to speak through the tears.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of – nothing", she says emphatically. "The pain was too much. Sabrina's death was too much and you had no one to help you – no one who understood what you were feeling. You needed to find a safe place – a way to protect yourself - so you tucked away the memories until you were ready to deal with them. But you don't have to hide any longer. You're safe now. You're safe, Fitz." She strokes his head trying to comfort him while silently cursing his parents.
"But, Liv, I hurt so bad inside. I feel the pain in every cell of my body."
His body shudders and he curls into the fetal position on the floor. Olivia grabs pillows from the sofa and places them under his head. She wraps the throw and her body around his body, trying to warm him, but the coldness is from within. He's reliving Sabrina's death but this time he's not alone. She is with him and will stay with him and hold him until the pain is no more.
The Next Morning
He had a restless night, tossing and turning in his sleep. Frankly, he has not had a good night's sleep since the memories have resurfaced, and the snoring has returned. His restlessness has caused her to be restless so she gets out of bed before dawn and goes to the living room to email Tim, the project manager for the new building she designing on the outskirts of town. She needs to reschedule their meeting this morning to review the latest revisions to the architectural plans. Today she needs to be home for Fitz.
"Good morning", he says, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the living room.
"Hi", she says, looking up from her phone and giving him an understanding smile.
"Did I keep you up all night?" He asks sadly.
"I needed to check email any way", she says, looking at his tousled hair. She has missed him.
"You need your sleep, Liv. I'll go back to my place later today."
"No", she says quickly. "I mean you shouldn't be alone, Fitz. I don't want you to be alone."
"I don't want to intrude."
"You can never intrude. Besides, we have to figure out some things."
He looks at her strangely, unclear of what she's talking about.
"Fitz …" She wants to tread carefully as she reveals her theory to him. "Fitz, Tristan said something to me that made no sense to me at the time …."
Fitz looks at her curiously.
"When he was choking me that night he said something about giving me what he gave Sabrina."
"What?" His eyes are wide.
"I had no idea what he was talking about, of course. Babe, I wonder if Sabrina really did lose her balance."
Fitz furrows his brows.
"Are you saying ...?" Anger beginning to cloud his face.
"I don't know. I just think it's something to be considered. Do you know where Tristan was when Sabrina fell down the stairs?"
"It was so long ago, Liv and I wasn't in the best shape."
"Think, Fitz. Try to remember."
He walks over to the window and shakes his head as he watches the sun begin to rise.
"The memories of that day have been buried for so long …" He runs his hand through his hair.
Olivia walks behind him, wraps her arms around his waist, and lays her head on his back.
"Try, Fitz. Try", she urges him.
Silence fills the air for a few moments as he tries to recall the details of that day 25 years ago. He lifts her hand and kisses her ring, then he begins.
"When I heard Sabrina scream", he shakes his head again and a lump forms in his throat. Olivia runs a soothing hand up and down his chest and places a soft kiss on his back.
"When I heard Bri scream I ran from my room and down the stairs …" He shakes his head again because he can see clearly Sabrina's twisted body laying at the bottom of the staircase. Tears run down his face and Olivia tightens her arms around him.
"My parents ran from my bedroom - down the stairs." He rubs his forehead.
"I held Bri in my arms. Liv, she was bleeding. She looked so frightened and I felt so helpless. My dear parents were only concerned with getting Bri out of there. My father pulled me from Bri and up the stairs to my room."
More memories begin to resurface.
"I saw my mother pick up the pink scarf I gave Bri and stuff it into her pocket as my father was dragging me up the stairs."
She rubs his chest encouraging him to continue.
"When we got to the top of the stairs, that's when I saw Tristan standing in the hall, outside of my bedroom. He seemed to be smirking at me."
He shakes his head.
"Liv, that doesn't mean …"
"We don't know what it means, but we do know a crime was committed. Whether Sabrina's death was an accident or murder, her body was moved, and that's a crime."
Fitz turns and looks at her wide eyed, knowing what she means.
"We have to call James", she says, looking at him intently.
Three Days Later
Olivia left the apartment early this morning, slipping out quietly so she did not disturb Fitz. She did not want to wake him because last night was the first good night's sleep he has had since coming to her apartment.
Now she sits in the Novaks' kitchen, at the huge island, drinking coffee with James and Michael. It's been 15 months since their precious Ella departed this world and the grieving and mourning process has been long and difficult for the little girl's parents. And the grieving has not been any less painful for Olivia. Since the funeral Olivia has talked with her best friend James every day, despite her own emotional state she sucked it up. Regardless of her professional and personal demands she called James every day to check on him and Michael. When they were ready, once a month Olivia would have lunch with the fathers so they could support each other and reminisce about little girl they all loved dearly. After a long while it was no longer painful to talk about their baby girl. After a while their lunch dates became a celebration of Ella's life rather than a mourning of her death. They all could now laugh about the little girl's antics. Olivia regaled the fathers with stories about her and Ella's sleepovers and the fathers told Olivia stories of some of Ella's daily activities.
As the months passed and Olivia began to reconcile her feelings for Fitz, she finally summoned the courage to tell James and Michael about her growing relationship with Dr. Grant. She told them how their paths crossed in the taxi, and they laughed. She told them about the incident on the plane, and they laughed even harder. And she told them how they met again, unexpectedly, in Ella's hospital room. And she told them how they became more attracted to each other and started dating. She was unsure how James and Michael would respond to her dating the doctor who was unable to save their little princess. Actually, she was downright nervous because she did not want to have to choose.
"It sounds like the heavens were conspiring in favor of you two", Michael says, smiling as he squeezes Olivia's hand.
"He's a good man, Liv", James jumps in. "Before you came back to Ella's room that day, Dr. Grant spent a lot of time with us discussing her condition. He explained, in an easy-to-understand way, about subdural hematomas. He showed us pictures of a healthy brain and pictures of Ella's damaged brain. He explained that while the final decision was Michael's and mine, he gave us his professional opinion. He said he would do whatever we wanted but he didn't think it be in Ella's best interest to subject her to a long and messy procedure that in the end wouldn't change anything."
"Liv, he made it easier for us to let Ella go", Michael says.
"But Liv …" James is getting emotional and Olivia looks at him with concern. Michael wraps his arm around his husband's shoulder. "The most astonishing thing Dr. Grant did …" James wipes the tears from his eyes. "Liv, he prayed with us. Dr. Grant prayed with us. He held our hands and prayed for our little girl and he prayed for Michael and me. He prayed that God would help us through this difficult time."
Tears are streaming down Olivia's face. She had no idea about any of this. Fitz never said a word and she begins to feel badly for the way she treated him, for questioning if he cared about Ella as a person.
"And, Liv …" James reaches across the counter and rests his hand atop hers. "Dr. Grant still calls once a month to check on us. He's a good man, Liv. He's been instrumental in helping Michael and me to heal. If I weren't already married …" He smiles mischievously at Olivia then looks up at his husband.
Olivia can't stop the tears from flowing because she is so proud of Fitz' big heart. He is a good man and she is angry about what has happened to him. She's angry that this brilliant, big-hearted man is broken. She's angry because his family kept this secret from him. It all breaks her heart.
"Liv, what's wrong? What's the matter?" James looks at her with concern, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"It's Fitz … He needs you, James. He needs your help."
James looks at his emotionally distressed friend wondering what's going on. And Olivia spends the next hour telling James and Michael everything about Fitz and Sabrina.
XXX
For the past week Fitz has been staying at Olivia's apartment trying to reconcile what he has remembered and to deal with the emotional fall-out. Olivia insisted he stay with her so she can support him through this dark period. Now that she knows the truth, the full story, she wants to be his side, help him through the healing process. While she is angry about what his parents did to him, she is relieved to know that he is not like them, that he is the kind, loving, and generous man she fell in love with.
When he awakens to the sun streaming through the sheer curtains, he wonders where Olivia is. He slept longer than usual this morning and did not hear when she got out of bed. He showers then walks back to the bedroom and digs through his dresser drawers for something to wear. He slides on his boxers, jeans, and a tee shirt and looks into the mirror. His reflection is almost unrecognizable. He does not know who he is any longer. Everything he thought to be true about his life, about his family is a lie. And sometimes he finds it difficult to look into Olivia's eyes because he's afraid of what he might see. Does she find him disgusting? Pitiful? Can she still love this version of him?
He walks bare feet to the kitchen and pours himself coffee Olivia made before she left and thinks about his next steps. He can no longer work, not like this. He has too much emotional business to reconcile. But at some point he needs to decide if he can return to Children's. Cyrus crossed the line. He has so many decisions to make and for the first time he is clueless about what to do, he doesn't have a plan. But how does one plan for what has happened to him? He sits at the kitchen table sipping his coffee, deep in thought, when he hears Olivia's key in the lock.
"I've always loved this place, Liv."
"I guess you do since you selected it."
"Well, when you told me you were moving out here I got onto the job right away. It's so you."
"It is, James. I just love it, but I've been spending most of my time at Fitz' place. It's much bigger."
"But this is such a gem, Liv."
"Good morning", Fitz says, leaning against the door frame leading to the living room with arms and legs crossed.
Olivia and James stop their chattering and look over to the handsome but weary-looking man. Olivia looks into his eyes and assesses him quickly before walking over and kissing him on the lips. He needed that.
"Dr. Grant", James says, smiling from across the room, watching his best friend show affection to her man.
"James, what did I tell you about that Dr. Grant business?" He walks over to shake James' hand, giving him a weak smile.
"All right. All right. Fitz it is." James puts his hands up in surrender, then walks over to the sofa and sets his brief case on the coffee table he selected for Olivia. James sits on the sofa.
"I have breakfast for you, babe", she says, smiling and holding up the bag for him.
"Thank you", pecking her on the lips again.
"Come on", she pulls him by the hand. Sit. I'll get your coffee.
Olivia walks into the kitchen as Fitz sits in one of the mid-century chairs situated in front of the coffee table. He places his breakfast bag onto the table.
"I see Liv still hasn't learned how to cook", James says, looking up from his phone at Fitz.
Fitz smiles as Olivia enters the room with the coffee service and a plate. She sets the service onto the table and begins to plate Fitz' breakfast.
"Eat", she says in a playful but commanding voice.
"Yes ma'am", he says, digging into his food.
"Yes, eat Fitzgerald. You're going to need your strength. We have 25 years worth of work to do."
XXX
"Fitz, you should know that long-repressed memories that return after decades often return while a person is in therapy. These kinds of cases have become highly publicized over the years. In 1991 actress Roseanne Barr Arnold's story was on the cover of People Magazine. Memories of her mother abusing her from the time she was an infant until she was six or seven years old had returned in therapy. Also in 1991 there is the case of former Miss America Marilyn Van Derbur, who had repressed any knowledge of sexual violation by her father until she was 24 years old. She didn't tell the world about her abuse until after her father died."
Fitz is astonished. Although he learned about repressed memories when he studied Psychology as an undergraduate, he was unfamiliar with the two cases. He also knows that there are differing opinions in the psychological community about whether repressed memories is a true condition.
"But these were cases of sexual and physical abuse. Your case is different, however. We are not talking about sexual or physical abuse. We're talking about parents who hid a tragic secret from their teenage son, and that is not a crime. It doesn't make for good parents, but it is not a crime", James says. "However, there is precedence for a civil lawsuit." James is in full attorney mode now.
"Lawsuit?" Fitz asks in astonishment, looking up at Olivia.
"Yes, Fitz. Plaintiffs bring lawsuits for a myriad of reasons."
"Lawsuit, plaintiffs, you're using a lot of legal language here, James. Are you suggesting that I file a lawsuit against my own parents?" For Fitz, this is unthinkable.
"I'm suggesting you need to determine what you want. Some plaintiffs hope for emotional justice, while others want personal satisfaction. What. Do. You. Want, Fitz?"
"I want justice for Sabrina. I want her family to know the truth", he says without hesitation.
Olivia sits on the arm of his chair and rubs her hand up and down his back.
"And I want justice for you too, babe", Olivia says. "You were deceived by your own parents for all of these years. You lived your entire life not knowing the truth. Keeping what happened to Sabrina a secret changed who you were intended to be. It changed you", she says adamantly.
"As I said, that's enough for a criminal case, Liv", James interjects. "No disrespect, Fitz, but if there is a criminal case here it will be around Sabrina's death."
Deep in thought, Fitz nods his head slowly.
"She may have been murdered. And surely that's a crime", Olivia interjects.
"We have no proof of murder, Liv. We don't know if Sabrina tripped down those stairs –"
"Or maybe she was pushed." Olivia chimes in again.
James looks at Olivia then to Fitz, who has remained silent. He feels there is more to this story.
"Who else was there? Who else was in the house when the incident happened?" James asks, looking at Fitz.
"Everyone. My parents and I were in my bedroom when Sabrina fell down the stairs."
"Was there anyone else in the house?"
"My younger brother, Tristan."
"And where was he?"
Fitz looks at Olivia and she nods, encouraging him to continue.
"He was standing in the hall, at the top of the stairs, when my father took me to my bedroom." Fitz is massaging his forehead. The tension is building again.
James senses there is still more to this story that he has not heard.
"Is there any reason to believe that your brother could have pushed Sabrina down the stairs?
Olivia looks at Fitz for a moment and he nods. And she tells James everything that happened when they visited Fitz' family in Wisconsin for the holidays. She tells him how Tristan attacked her and what he said about Sabrina. James is shocked. Shame and guilt are overwhelming Fitz again as he listens to Olivia recount the story of her attack. He walks to the window and looks out at the sunny day.
"Unfortunately, we have no proof that Tristan pushed Sabrina." James looks over at Fitz before continuing. "We don't even have a body", he says softly.
Fitz gasps and clenches his fists. The thought of Bri being dumped somewhere for all of these years without a proper burial enrages him.
"Do what you need to do, James." He says, not turning away from the window. "Find Sabrina."
"I'll do my best. It's been 25 years and I'm not sure how much evidence, if any, still exists. I'll have my investigator see what he can dig up."
With clenched teeth, Fitz nods and continues to stare out the window.
"Olivia nods to James and he takes his cue to leave.
"Well, I'll let the two of you think about this further. Fitz, Liv, I will get back to you as soon as the investigator finds anything."
Fitz continues looking out the window without turning around as Olivia walks James to the door.
"Thank you, James", Olivia says softly.
"That's what friends are for", he smiles and gives her a peck on the cheek.
XXX
Hollister Brooks is a gruff, no-nonsense private investigator who has been operating in the greater Phoenix area for the past 15 years. As a PI who specializes in investigating suspected or confirmed criminal activity, he thinks he's seen and heard it all. So when his friend James Novak called him personally to discuss a 25-year-old case, he was somewhat intrigued. However, at the end of the meeting at James' law firm, Hollister is reluctant to take the case.
"James, these old cases are difficult to solve. Evidence is usually nonexistent and oftentimes witnesses have died or moved on. These kinds of investigations can go on for months, if not years. It can become quite expensive."
James leans back in his plush, upholstered chair, rubs his index finger and thumb together and eyes Hollister carefully. He rarely plays his last card when negotiating with Hollister or anyone else, but Olivia and Fitz are his friends and he wants to try to help them.
"Hollister, I would consider it as a personal favor if you took this case. And, if you don't uncover anything after what you determine is a reasonable amount of time, then we'll shut it down."
James leans forward on his desk and eyes Hollister intently and Hollister doesn't blink. He knows James is one of the top criminal attorneys in the state and he doesn't ask for favors lightly. This case must be important to him. It must be personal on some level. Hollister nods.
"I'll get right on it. I'll fly out to America's Dairyland tomorrow."
"Thank you, Hollister", James says, standing from his seat and extending a handshake. "I won't forget this."
XXX
Hollister is on the 6:45 am flight bound for Milwaukee. Once he has settled his six-foot, four-inch frame into the first-class seat he pulls out his tablet. It's a three-and-a-half-hour flight so he reviews his notes on the case. He shakes his head at the silliness of it all. Two teenage kids in love and one ends up dead and the other ends up in a mental institution for almost a year.
He reviews the list of people he wants to interview: first the Grants since the girl was dating their older son and allegedly died in their home. Then he wants to find Daniel and understand his role in all of this. He wants to meet with Pastor Drake since the teenagers spent a lot of time at his church. Finally, he wants to meet with the dead girl's parents. Hollister closes his tablet and reclines in his seat for the rest of the flight.
XXX
The Grants' home in Waukesha County is a little over an hour's drive from the airport. Hollister turns up the heat in his rental car full blast as he drives over the interstate. Coming from Arizona he doesn't understand how people can live in this ungodly environment. He glances over at Lake Pine and thinks it's probably a beautiful lake when it is not frozen. After a little more than an hour Hollister drives up to the Grants' home. It is beginning to snow again as he walks up the steps to the wraparound porch. He looks around the community thinking this is why the teenage boy's parents didn't want him dating the girl who lived on the other side of town. He shakes his head then rings the doorbell. Anneke Grant opens the door and Hollister is struck by her cold, piercing blue eyes.
"Mrs. Grant, I'm Hollister Brooks. I called you earlier. I'm here on behalf of your son, Fitzgerald."
The woman smiles and her eyes light up at the mention of her son's name.
"Yes, yes. Come in from out of the cold, Mr. Brooks."
Anneke guides Hollister to the parlor where Gerry is sitting by the fireplace. The house is now too big and too lonely for the two of them. Gerry and Hollister shake hands as Anneke goes to get coffee.
"As I told your wife, Mr. Grant. I have been retained by your son to –"
"Here is some hot coffee to take off the Wisconsin chill", Anneke says as she walks into the parlor with the coffee service.
"Thank you, Mrs. Grant." Hollister sips his coffee and moans in delight. "You make a good cup of coffee ma'am."
"So why did our son need to hire a private investigator to talk to his own parents?" Gerry asks gruffly.
"Well actually …" Hollister begins, setting his coffee cup onto the porcelain saucer. "Actually, his attorney hired me to find out what happened in this house 25 years ago."
Anneke gasps and Hollister looks at her suspiciously. Gerry remains stoic.
"A young girl died in this house 25 years –"
"No such thing happened!" Gerry shouts.
"Sir, your son remembers everything that happened here that night and now he wants answers."
"My god", Anneke mutters, raising her hand to her mouth.
"So do either of you want to tell me what happened to that young girl?"
The couple go silent. Gerry stares into the fireplace and Anneke stares into her black coffee.
"Well let me tell you what I think happened that night. You, Mrs. Grant, got angry when you caught Fitzgerald fooling around in his bedroom with the black girl from the other side of town and you called your husband to his bedroom. You two were shouting and screaming at them and the girl got scared and ran from the room. Is this all sounding familiar?" Hollister continues, not giving them a chance to answer. "And the girl ended up dead at the bottom of the staircase. Your son believes she was pushed."
The Grants remain silent so Hollister continues.
"There were only five people in this house that night when that poor girl died. You, your wife, and Fitzgerald were all in his bedroom. That leaves two other people and one of them is dead. Where's your other son, Tristan?" The investigator asks looking at the couple closely.
"We don't have to answer any of your damn questions", Gerry snarls.
"You'll answer my questions now or you'll answer them in court. You two are an accessory to murder. You might not have killed that girl but you know who did and you helped to dispose of her body. You don't lie for 25 years and never tell your son the truth if it was just an accident. Tristan killed that girl, didn't he?"
"He was just trying to stop her from leaving the house, but she struggled with him. Then she fell down the stairs", Anneke chimes in.
"Then why not call the police if it was an accident?"
"We couldn't let people know – our church, our friends - know that our son was fooling around with that kind of girl." Anneke says.
"You mean you would rather your son sit in a mental institution for almost a year because you were afraid of what your congregation would think about your white son dating a black girl? Is that what you're telling me?" Hollister is angry. He hadn't heard everything after all.
"Fitzgerald had no business bringing that kind of gal into our home", Gerry snarls.
"And you dumped that girl's body somewhere like she was yesterday's trash. What kind of Christians are you people?"
"We are good Christians. And don't you dare question our faith!" Anneke screams. "We made sure she got back to her people – back to where she belonged."
"Anneke!"
"No, Gerry! I can't keep this secret any longer. It's been 25 years and it has haunted me every day. It's time to put this to rest – time to come clean. What do we have for all of our actions? We've lost both of our boys. One who is – God knows where. And Fitzgerald, who never wants to see us again. Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it?"
Gerry shakes his head and looks down at the floor. He's old now and doesn't have much fight left in him.
"When I saw that girl laying at the foot of the staircase …"
He shakes his head at the memory. He'll never forget the sight of the girl's twisted and bloodied body laying on the floor.
"I didn't want my son with that girl but I never wanted that to happen", he says sadly.
"Who moved the body?" Hollister asks.
"Daniel, our handyman. He drove the girl to her church and placed her where the pastor or someone at that church would find her."
Hollister stands, looks at the couple, and shakes his. He's disgusted by what he has heard.
"I will submit my report to my client. You should expect a visit from the police."
Hollister turns to leave but is stopped by Mrs. Grant.
"Just a minute, Mr. Brooks. I want to give you something."
Hollister stands in the foyer as Anneke walks up the long staircase, which she is finding increasingly difficult to climb with each passing year. She returns a few minutes later with a box.
"Mr. Brooks, please give this to Fitzgerald. Give this to my son. Tell him I am so sorry – for everything", she says handing him the box as tears roll down her face.
Hollister takes the box and makes his way over to Selah Baptist Church. He wonders if Pastor Drake is still alive.
XXX
Hollister walks into the small church and looks around at all of the religious symbols and shakes his head. Christians he thinks.
"How can I help you?" The old man asks as he shuffles from the back of the church. He removes his eyeglasses and pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to polish the lens to better see the stranger.
"I'm looking for Pastor Drake. Are you Pastor Drake?"
"I am. And you are?"
"My name is Hollister Brooks. I'm a private investigator from Phoenix, Arizona."
"Private investigator?" The old pastor asks curiously. "What is a private investigator from Phoenix doing here in Wisconsin - at Selah Baptist?"
The pastor walks over slowly to the man and leans against the pew. The years have begun to catch up with him.
"I'm here to talk to you about Sabrina McDaniels."
The old pastor grabs his chest and his eyes bulge as he remembers the cold December afternoon like it was yesterday. He was taking his daily stroll thinking about his sermon for Christmas when he found Sabrina's lifeless body in the grove behind the church.
"What do you know about that poor child? Who sent you here?"
"I'm here to find her family."
"The McDaniels moved away shortly after their daughter's funeral. They couldn't bear coming back to Selah knowing their daughter's body was found just 100 yards from where they worship."
"Do you know where they moved to?"
"No, I'm afraid not. They said they wanted to forget everything and everyone here in Wisconsin. I can't say that I blame them", the pastor shakes his head remembering the faces of Sabrina's distraught parents.
"Damn. I'm sorry pastor. Excuse my language. I thought I would get my answer here. I guess I have to try to track down the McDaniels."
"What do you want with the McDaniels? What question do you need answered?"
"I was hoping to find out where the girl is buried."
"Well, I can tell you that", the pastor says, giving Hollister a why-didn't-you-just-ask look.
"She's buried out back, near the grove. Sabrina loved playing in the grove ever since she was a little girl. And when she got older she would walk back there with …"
The old man gasps and sits on the hard, wooden bench.
"Did he send you here? Did Fitz send you here? I always suspected something was going on between the two of them. We couldn't keep Fitz away from here if we tried. I saw them a few times from my office window walking through the grove. I always wondered whatever happened to Fitz. He was such a nice young man. He stopped coming around about the same time that Sabrina was found. Oh my god. Did he …? Is he the one …?"
"No, no. Not at all. Apparently he loved her very much."
"We never found out who killed that poor child and just left her out in the grove like a dead animal. Do you know who killed her?"
"I'm not sure, pastor. I'm not sure. Thank you for the information and God bless", he says as he turns to walk from the church.
On his flight back to Phoenix, Hollister finishes writing his report. The 25-year-old case was easier to solve than he expected. While they will probably never know if Sabrina tripped down the staircase or was pushed, he was thankful he was able to find the girl's burial place for his client. The client will determine if the details of the report should be turned over to the local authorities in Waukesha County for further investigation, even though they did a sorry job of investigating the girl's death 25 years ago. Hopefully things have changed since then Hollister thinks before nodding off.
XXX
James grabs the report from his desk and stuffs it into his brief case next to the box Mrs. Grant gave to Hollister and makes his way over to Olivia's apartment. As he rings the doorbell Mrs. Teller looks through her peephole and nods her head when she sees Fitz open the door.