Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Forty-One

Josie surfaced from a deep sleep, her bleary eyes taking in unfamiliar surroundings. Light-blue walls, a four-drawer dresser scuffed from top to bottom, masculine items scattered across its surface—an electric razor, cologne, a black wallet. Then there was the smell. Not unpleasant. Just different. It was Noah’s smell, she realized. As the fog of sleep cleared, she sat up in his bed, listening. She thought she heard noises from downstairs. She had slept peacefully, considering she was in a strange bed and was still reeling from the intrusion of her home. She looked around the room once more, noting how little light it got compared to her own bedroom. The furnishings were utilitarian, although in the six months since she had last been to his house, Noah had outfitted the downstairs with new, modern furniture and appliances. It still had the half-finished look of a bachelor pad, but it was far more welcoming and comfortable.

A knock sounded on the door. Before Josie could answer, Noah walked in, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. He froze when he saw her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I should have waited for you to say ‘Come in.’”

“It’s okay,” Josie said.

“You might have been changing,” he pointed out. “I—uh—I’m really sorry.”

He started to retreat, but Josie stood and reached for the coffee. “It’s fine,” she said. “Really. Thank you.”

She sipped the coffee standing there, suddenly aware of how she must look wearing Ray’s faded old Denton PD T-shirt and a pair of threadbare sweatpants. She put the mug on his nightstand and patted her hair down. Beneath her fingers, she felt a thick lump of knotted hair in the back of her head.

“Guess I should, uh, use your bathroom,” Josie said.

She went to move past him as he tried to get out of the doorway, but they both moved in the same direction. The awkward dance continued as they tried to get out of each other’s way, only succeeding in bumping chests. The heady scent of Noah’s aftershave invaded her nostrils. She wished she’d had time to brush her teeth before their first conversation of the day.

“I’m sorry,” Noah said, finally backing out of the room. He pointed to his left. “Bathroom’s that way.”

Josie smiled tightly. “Got it. Thanks.”

She showered, brushed her teeth, and dressed quickly. In the kitchen, Noah whipped up a breakfast of bacon and eggs, which they ate in silence. Only once they left to meet Gretchen for the interview of the former courthouse employee did the awkwardness between them dissipate. As they drove to the Bellewood home of Alona Ortiz, the retired district court clerk who had once worked with Belinda Rose, Josie tried hard not to dwell on what had happened in her home the night before.

Ortiz lived in a two-story brick home near the courthouse in the center of Bellewood. Her front porch was cluttered with potted plants and children’s toys. When Ortiz emerged, a knit shawl wrapped around her hunched shoulders, she smiled and waved at the mess. “Grandkids,” she explained. “They’re like little tornadoes. Come in, come in. Sit.”

Her living room was equally full of plants and toddler toys—brightly colored blocks, worn stuffed animals, a plastic tool set, and a dress-up trunk filled with glittery pink and purple dresses and several sparkly tiaras. Gretchen made small talk with her while Josie and Noah found their places on her threadbare burgundy sofa. Ortiz sat in a recliner across from them, tucking strands of her shoulder-length silver hair behind her ears. Josie knew she was in her sixties, but she had a youthful look about her, her olive skin still relatively smooth except for the deep laugh lines bracketing her mouth.

“Three of you,” she observed. “This must be important. What did young Belinda get up to? Is she in trouble?”

Gretchen perched on the arm of the sofa. “I’m sorry to tell you, Mrs. Ortiz, but we believe Belinda was killed in 1984, possibly the same day she went missing. We found her remains in Denton last week.”

Mrs. Ortiz’s mouth turned downward. Her brown eyes found the floor. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said gravely.

“We were wondering what you could tell us about Belinda and her job at the courthouse,” Josie said.

Mrs. Ortiz leaned back in her chair and folded her hands over her stomach. “That was some time ago, but I wouldn’t have told you to come over if I didn’t remember her. Hard to forget those blond curls, but mostly I remember her because she was quite a flirt. Caused a little bit of conflict around the office while she was there.”

“What did she do at the courthouse?” Noah asked.

“Oh, you know, mostly filing, getting the mail ready, making sure the coffee pot was full. It was a part-time job. Myself and one other woman worked there as clerks. We had gone to the high school to see if we could get one or two students to come in and help out. There were a handful of candidates, but Belinda got the job. She was very sunny. Never had any problems with her work. I mean, she was a bit unreliable. I didn’t think we should let her come back after the few months she missed, but we needed help and she did her job well. Like I said, I never had a problem with her work.”

Josie leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “But you had other problems with her?”

Mrs. Ortiz gave a tight smile. “Well, not just me. We had several judges, some assistant district attorneys, and some public defenders who worked out of the courthouse. They had their own staff who didn’t appreciate the way Belinda flirted with their bosses.”

Noah asked, “Was the staff primarily female?”

Mrs. Ortiz smiled at him knowingly. “We’re talking the early eighties, son. The judges and lawyers were male, and the staff was female. So yes, all female. I think many of them were just jealous. She was a very vivacious young woman, and she did turn the heads of a lot of men.”

Josie said, “Did Belinda have relationships with any of the men?”

Mrs. Ortiz frowned. “She was a teenager,” she said, as if that precluded the possibility of an affair.

“Well, was there anyone she flirted with more than the others?” Gretchen asked.

“I suppose she had quite an interest in Judge Bowen.”

The name was vaguely familiar to Josie, but she couldn’t place it.

Gretchen scribbled something on her notepad. “How did Judge Bowen react to her interest?”

Mrs. Ortiz waved her hand. “Oh, he loved it. Of course, he had to be careful because he had a young wife, and she worked there too, as a secretary. The flirting caused some arguments between them at first, but then Mrs. Bowen became friendly with Belinda. They were close in age.”

“How close?” Josie asked.

“Oh, well, Mrs. Bowen was only twenty. It was quite the scandal when she and the judge got married because he was fifteen years older than her, but she was of age and they seemed in love.”

“How old was Mrs. Bowen when they got married?” Noah asked.

“Eighteen,” Mrs. Ortiz answered.

Noah looked at Josie with a raised brow. She knew what he was thinking. If the girl was eighteen when the judge married her, they had likely been seeing one another before she became of age. Which meant he may have had a predilection for young girls. Belinda had gotten pregnant shortly after starting her job at the courthouse. It was too big a coincidence to ignore.

“What was Mrs. Bowen’s first name?” Gretchen asked.

“Sophia.”

“Did the Bowens stay married?” Noah asked.

Mrs. Ortiz nodded. “Oh yes. They were married right up until Judge Bowen passed. Cancer. That was about ten years ago. Their children were already grown, thank goodness. They had two boys.”

“Do you remember Belinda being pregnant?” Gretchen asked, steering the conversation back to their reason for being there.

Three horizontal lines appeared on Mrs. Ortiz’s forehead. “Pregnant? Belinda was never pregnant. She was just a child.”

Josie wondered if Belinda had really been that skilled at hiding the pregnancy, or if all the adults in her life had simply been that oblivious. Mrs. Ortiz seemed a bit naïve in Josie’s estimation, although what Josie saw in her job day in and day out had made her jaded. Josie said, “You said that Belinda was friends with Sophia Bowen. Was there anyone else she was close to? Someone she may have confided in?”

Two of Mrs. Ortiz’s fingers tapped her chin as she thought about it. “There was that one young lady from the cleaning service. Oh, what was her name?” She pursed her lips. Several seconds slipped past. She sighed. “I can’t remember her name. She worked for the housekeeping company that came in in the afternoons and evenings to clean. Actually, the three of them were thick as thieves now that I think about it. I used to catch them out back smoking cigarettes and giggling about this or that. No one would have noticed if it was just Belinda and the cleaning girl, but Sophia—well, people expected a judge’s wife to act a certain way. I talked with her a few times about not acting like a teenager cutting school.”

“Do you remember the name of the cleaning service?” Josie asked.

“No, no I don’t.”

“What about the girl from the service that Belinda and Sophia used to hang out with?” Noah asked. “What did she look like?”

“Oh, she was very pretty,” said Mrs. Ortiz. “She had long, black hair. Almost down to her rear end. Blue eyes. She was very thin—not like Belinda or Sophia. No, the cleaning girl was thin as a rail.”

“How old was she?”

“I’m not sure, dear, but she was young. Maybe in her twenties.”

Josie felt Noah’s eyes on her but didn’t look at him. Her mother had to have been young enough to pass for eighteen when she stole Belinda’s identity. She had blue eyes and had always worn her black hair down to her backside. By fourteen, Josie had outweighed her mother. It was the drugs, Josie knew now. Her mother had survived almost entirely on drugs, and not much else. Food had never been a priority in their trailer. Josie shot Noah a quick glance, communicating with her eyes. It could be her. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Do you remember who owned the cleaning service?” Noah asked. “Or the names of anyone else who worked there?”

Mrs. Ortiz shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t. They went out of business decades ago. Maybe someone on your staff would remember? They had municipal contracts with all the police departments in the county as well. They had different cleaning crews that went to different buildings, but if you’re just looking for the name of the company, any one of the police departments would have had a contract with them in the early ’80s.”