If half of what Grant Sturgis told me next was true, Caroline had lived through a succession of nightmarish events equaled only by Jean Valjean; right out of Les Misérables.
Caroline started dating Eddie Donnelley when she was a senior at Newtonville High School and he was a sophomore at Nixon County Community College. She was flattered by his attentions. He was an older man, relatively speaking, and the town was so small that, as pretty as she was, she’d already been through all the interesting boys her own age. Not in a slutty, town pump kind of way-she just had an idea of what she wanted and was quick to realize when she hadn’t found it, so she kept looking.
Kate Gustafson was Eddie’s ex-girlfriend, who was surprisingly cordial to her replacement. At least it was surprising to me. Where I grew up, you didn’t want to be in the same time zone with your boyfriend’s ex, much less hang out with her, but Newtonville, Michigan, was a far cry from Brooklyn, New York.
Attractive and popular, Caroline was a capable student but more interested in creative pursuits than academics-painting and dancing were two of her passions. Beyond the Twinkletoes ballet classes which she’d outgrown by the age of twelve, there was no dance studio in town, so Caroline turned to cheerleading. And she pursued it with a vengeance. They said she was fearless and would cheerfully and accurately fling her body into whatever formation the coach asked, landing with her trademark happy face without even breaking a sweat.
As the school’s head cheerleader she went to all the varsity events on the road and was invited to every postgame party. Eddie and Kate went everywhere with her, Eddie following the school bus that carried the team and the cheerleaders, driving to the games and meets that were out of the city, with Kate tagging along, as a pal and chaperone. At least that was what they told Caroline’s dad, who by that time was consoling himself for the loss of his wife every day with a quart of scotch and a six-pack of beer and every night with a hairdresser named Rita.
At first, the invitations were just for Caroline. After all, who wouldn’t want the prettiest girl in school at their party? But later all three were invited because Caroline’s friends could pretty much get you anything you wanted. According to Grant, unbeknownst to Caroline, they’d used her to open a whole new line of distribution for the drugs they were selling-mostly speed, some pot, and eventually heroin, at schools all over the county. Place your orders now for next week’s postgame party. It didn’t take long for interested parties to get involved in betting on the games. That’s when the stakes were really jacked up.
When the three of them were busted, witnesses and former clients testified to the damning truth, that Caroline had been present at virtually every drug sale or buy; if she hadn’t actually taken the cash and handed over the drugs, she had, in fact, introduced Eddie and Kate to most of the buyers, thereby helping them make the transaction. On paper it was hard to dispute.
Caroline’s court-appointed attorney was a recent grad, two years out of law school and clearly out of his league. With all the evidence stacked against her, and Eddie and Kate pleading guilty, the lawyer convinced Caroline’s dad that she should plead guilty, too. At her age and with no previous convictions, he was sure she’d be put on probation or sentenced to community service; she should throw herself on the mercy of the court.
But there was no mercy. With the help of Eddie’s and Kate’s well-paid attorneys, the prosecutors successfully argued that Caroline had masterminded the entire business. After all, she was the charismatic one with all the connections. And who were the others? Eddie was a troubled underachiever in his fourth year at a two-year college, and Kate, five years older than she’d originally claimed, identified herself as an actress and model, which in those days was code for prostitute. Caroline was the only one smart enough to have planned it all. Caroline, Eddie, and Kate were each sentenced to ten to twenty years at the Henderson Dade Correctional Facility. At the sentencing Caroline passed out.
Grant was still processing all this new information about his wife of twenty years. It was hard enough for me to believe. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through.
If Caroline really was innocent, Grant needed a good attorney to reopen the case, otherwise it could be a very long time before any of us ever saw her again. At least this time she could afford the best. And an attorney could hire a professional to look for Donnelley, not a gifted amateur like me.
Grant thanked me for sticking with the job even after he’d treated me so shabbily. He insisted on paying me for my time and the yearbooks, and I made a show of protesting but not too hard. The offer was more than enough to cover my expenses and keep me in soup and big breakfasts until gardening season rolled around again in March, and I was grateful for it. Before he hung up, we talked about meeting at Babe’s when he returned to show the folks in town that I was once again one of the good guys.
I decided to call Lucy or Babe to share my news, even though it wasn’t really good news, simply one piece of the puzzle leading to a different, bigger puzzle. Just as I was about to dial, the phone rang. I assumed it was Grant, who’d forgotten to tell me something.
“Grant?” I said.
There was silence, but not a robodialer’s silence: someone was there. I could hear breathing.
“No.”
I looked at the phone to see if I recognized the caller’s number. I didn’t, but it was a familiar area code. One I’d recently dialed. Michigan.
“I hear you’ve been looking for me. My name’s Jeff Warren.”