bedrooms, a cramped kitchen, living room and a bathroom where the shower always dripped, no matter how many times her mother had tried to fix it. As she stood on Betty Tucker’s doorstep, the old claustrophobic feelings came back, smothering. The hours she spent home with the door locked, too young to be left alone but there because there was no money for daycare. The times she’d wanted to get out but her mother had needed to work.
Occasionally, her mother had brought home boyfriends. Most of them had been nice men. A few had ignored Ella and considered her in the way. For the most part though, during those times, life had been good. They’d done more things, like swimming in the river in the summer or the odd trip to the movies, and her mother had laughed more. Until the relationship died a slow death and Ella was left to her own devices again.
Then there was the night she’d waited, and waited. The night her mother never came home after falling asleep at the wheel following a double shift at the truck stop out on the highway.
The door opened, and Betty pushed the screen door outward while Ella stepped back, shaken out of the harsh memories. “Ella Turner. Well, this is a surprise.”
Ella tried to smile up at Betty, her lips quivering slightly as she worked to dispel the memories. That was the past. It wasn’t who she was anymore. She was here to do a job, that’s all.
“Good morning, Betty. I’m surprised you remember me.”
“Of course I do. Devin used to talk about you all the time.”
Ella felt her body flush as she remembered his hands on her skin less than twelve hours before. “Devin and I go way back. I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Come on in. Heard you were at the bar last night. Figured you’d want to talk.”
Ella stepped inside but let the screen door slap behind her as surprise temporarily made her forget to close it properly. “You did?”
“Everyone in the Gulch knows you work for that paper in Denver now.”
They do?
Betty gestured towards a chair and went to the sofa, sitting down heavily. “Lordy, I seem to tire so easily these days. Sit down, please.”
She perched on the edge of the chair, noticing the living room needed updating but that it was devoid of even a speck of dust. “I don’t mean to intrude…”
Betty flapped a hand. “What gets me is I don’t understand why some paper in Denver is interested in little old me.”
Ella let out a breath and smiled. “That’s easy. It’s because you’re being treated unfairly.”
“So’s a lot of folks.”
“Yes, but you’re…” She almost said one of us , and paused. One of us? But Ella wasn’t part of the us anymore. Hadn’t been for a long, long time. “You’re somewhat local. And the community support you’ve received has gotten attention. It’s my job to take that and use it to get the attention of lots of people—including law makers and even the insurance company. But only if you’re comfortable talking.”
“I don’t have anything to hide.”
“May I tape this conversation then? Just to make it easier to remember? Then I won’t have to pause to take notes.” Ella reached inside her bag and withdrew a tiny recorder.
“I don’t know…” Betty paused, her gray eyes suddenly unsure. The relaxed, comfortable woman that had answered the door had disappeared, and now Ella saw what she’d expected. A woman who was afraid. Not necessarily of the tape recorder, though it seemed to be the item that caused the shift. But afraid of the changes life was dealing her. Ella felt a shaft of sympathy. Betty was going through this all alone and with the added worry of money.
“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t use what you say against you in any way. You’re the victim here. I want to help. This just helps me keep things clear.”
“I don’t want to give the insurance people any more ammunition, that’s all.”
Ella tried to smile reassuringly. “They can’t use the truth against you, and
Occasionally, her mother had brought home boyfriends. Most of them had been nice men. A few had ignored Ella and considered her in the way. For the most part though, during those times, life had been good. They’d done more things, like swimming in the river in the summer or the odd trip to the movies, and her mother had laughed more. Until the relationship died a slow death and Ella was left to her own devices again.
Then there was the night she’d waited, and waited. The night her mother never came home after falling asleep at the wheel following a double shift at the truck stop out on the highway.
The door opened, and Betty pushed the screen door outward while Ella stepped back, shaken out of the harsh memories. “Ella Turner. Well, this is a surprise.”
Ella tried to smile up at Betty, her lips quivering slightly as she worked to dispel the memories. That was the past. It wasn’t who she was anymore. She was here to do a job, that’s all.
“Good morning, Betty. I’m surprised you remember me.”
“Of course I do. Devin used to talk about you all the time.”
Ella felt her body flush as she remembered his hands on her skin less than twelve hours before. “Devin and I go way back. I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Come on in. Heard you were at the bar last night. Figured you’d want to talk.”
Ella stepped inside but let the screen door slap behind her as surprise temporarily made her forget to close it properly. “You did?”
“Everyone in the Gulch knows you work for that paper in Denver now.”
They do?
Betty gestured towards a chair and went to the sofa, sitting down heavily. “Lordy, I seem to tire so easily these days. Sit down, please.”
She perched on the edge of the chair, noticing the living room needed updating but that it was devoid of even a speck of dust. “I don’t mean to intrude…”
Betty flapped a hand. “What gets me is I don’t understand why some paper in Denver is interested in little old me.”
Ella let out a breath and smiled. “That’s easy. It’s because you’re being treated unfairly.”
“So’s a lot of folks.”
“Yes, but you’re…” She almost said one of us , and paused. One of us? But Ella wasn’t part of the us anymore. Hadn’t been for a long, long time. “You’re somewhat local. And the community support you’ve received has gotten attention. It’s my job to take that and use it to get the attention of lots of people—including law makers and even the insurance company. But only if you’re comfortable talking.”
“I don’t have anything to hide.”
“May I tape this conversation then? Just to make it easier to remember? Then I won’t have to pause to take notes.” Ella reached inside her bag and withdrew a tiny recorder.
“I don’t know…” Betty paused, her gray eyes suddenly unsure. The relaxed, comfortable woman that had answered the door had disappeared, and now Ella saw what she’d expected. A woman who was afraid. Not necessarily of the tape recorder, though it seemed to be the item that caused the shift. But afraid of the changes life was dealing her. Ella felt a shaft of sympathy. Betty was going through this all alone and with the added worry of money.
“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t use what you say against you in any way. You’re the victim here. I want to help. This just helps me keep things clear.”
“I don’t want to give the insurance people any more ammunition, that’s all.”
Ella tried to smile reassuringly. “They can’t use the truth against you, and
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