Authors: Stacy Dittrich
I spent the next several days reinterviewing all the witnesses. I like to do that because even if they remember something after the first interview, chances are they won’t call me and tell me about it. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case now. Everything they had told me was exactly as it had been before.
One afternoon I started looking into Maryanne Hendrickson. I knew she died quietly in 1985, but I had a lot of questions that needed to be answered. There was never a mention of occupations with either Maryanne or Madeline, and I wondered how they survived financially. I knew Mary Jane cleaned houses, but that certainly didn’t leave anything for her survivors. Maryanne’s body was discovered a week after her death only when the mailman noticed she hadn’t been getting her mail and called the police to check on her.
Walt spoke of a child that Maryanne had. I still hadn’t heard from any of the counties about birth or marriage certificates. At the present, there was no proof that Maryanne had a child, who would now be in his or her fifties or sixties. Coop had tracked down the letter giving notice of Mary Jane’s death through the county historical society. The letter, written by Madeline, tells of her mother’s passing, stating that cancer was common at her age, which she quoted as being seventy- three. Again, I didn’t know how anyone could’ve missed this. It told me that Mary Jane was not a frequent visitor to town, nor did she have many friends. No one questioned it. Madeline went on to write that Mary Jane was now joined with her beloved infant son who, she claims, died at birth. There was no record of the baby’s death anywhere. All of this continued to confuse me, especially when I remembered that Walt told me Ceely Rose was the key.
It was when I was scanning through the websites on Ceely Rose that I saw the notice for the play based on her life was being put on to night. A great excuse to stay away from home. I called Coop and Naomi and in no uncertain terms I demanded they go with me to watch the play. They didn’t argue. They thought it was great that I wasn’t going to go home and sulk all night. We made arrangements to meet at Malabar Farm fifteen minutes before the play, since the play was being held in the barn there.
Coop and Naomi were already there when I arrived. I was surprised at the amount of people there. Nearly every seat was full. Earlier, when I had been looking at the websites on Ceely Rose, I had come across an old picture of her. She was quite hideous, to say the least. I relayed this to Coop and Naomi.
“Maybe she had some disfiguring disease that made her crazy,” Naomi proposed.
“I don’t think so. From what I could tell, the rest of her family weren’t exactly supermodels either. Shhh, the show’s getting ready to start,” I whispered.
Surprisingly, I enjoyed the play. Coop and Naomi did, too. After it was over, I went to the stage to speak to the play’s writer and producer. Everyone else had left. The writer, Matt Simon, was more than happy to talk to me. At first.
He told me that when he first started putting the play together there were unusual occurrences. The barn where they staged the play was built from pieces of the mill where Ceely’s father had been the operator. He didn’t give that too much thought until he had several incidents of the lights pulsing and turning on by themselves.
Three days before opening night, during their last rehearsal, the entire barn went black. No lights, no sounds, no nothing. Matt told me they tried everything, but nothing worked. Matt said he stood in the middle of the barn and said quietly, “Please, Ceely, we can’t tell your story without your help.” After that, he walked over to the switch, flipped it on and everything worked. He also talked about going to her grave at the Lima Mental Institution.
“It was weird. It was a very cloudy day. As soon as I walked over to her grave, there was just a slight bit of sunshine coming down on her tombstone, but nowhere else.”
Matt believed the place Ceely haunted the most was the women’s restroom in the little building next to the barn. He talked of people claiming there was an extreme sense of dread when they walked in. They’d also heard Ceely giggling and her footsteps walk around the barn a lot. Matt said they’d all figured out how to deal with her. They usually say, “Knock it off, Ceely,” and she stops.
“Ceely has made us all believe that there are good ghosts out there, and that she’s one of them. She only wants to play and get attention,” he said cheerily.
“This is about a woman who brutally murdered her family, and you talk about her like she’s a saint you’re paying homage to. Play and get attention?” I tried not to sound too condescending. “No offense, Mr. Simon, but I just don’t get it. Outside of all the ghost story nonsense, I find it very disconcerting that you and your staff are praising this woman.”
His smile faded. “I’m sorry, Sergeant, but yours is only one opinion. We like Ceely. I’m sorry if you don’t understand that.”
“I
don’t
understand it. When Charles Manson drops dead, I highly doubt a hundred years from now people will be putting on a play and saying Charlie’s a good and playful ghost!” I couldn’t hide the sarcasm in my voice.
He nodded. “Well, Sergeant, if that’s all the questions you have, I really need to start putting everything away. Thank you for coming.”
He walked away, leaving me standing there with Naomi. Coop was near the entrance to the barn, talking to one of the actresses. Naomi startled me a little by agreeing with me. I assumed she would chastise me later for being rude to Matt Simon.
“You know, CeeCee, I was thinking the same thing when he was talking. He was acting like she was this wrongfully convicted woman who was put to death and now they’re all trying to make it right. I totally agree with you.” She chuckled. “Instead of walking around this barn and the restroom, she ought to be burning in hell.”
“Be careful, Naomi. She’s listening, and you don’t want to piss her off!” I snorted.
We caught up with Coop by our cars. He told us a few of the stories that the actress had told him.
“She’s as nutty as the writer, but she said they used to take the audience on a wagon ride past the old Rose house before the play began. There was a new girl who’d started and on her first wagon ride, she came up to my girl and was like, ‘That was a cool effect having someone in costume standing in the window at the Ceely Rose house!’ Of course my girl says there was never anyone in costume up there.”
I remembered something. “There was never any mention of the surviving brother, Randall Rose, and I forgot to ask Matt Simon about it.”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Naomi said. “I don’t think he’s very fond of you at the moment. He probably won’t answer any more questions.”
I nodded and said good- bye to both of them before sitting in my car for a while. Reflecting back on the play, I still couldn’t find a connection between Mary Jane Hendrickson and Ceely Rose. I thought about going in and asking Matt Simon, but he wouldn’t know. I knew more about both Mary Jane and Ceely than most people at that point.
I drove around a bit before going home. When I pulled away from the farm, I felt a deep sense of dread, and it wasn’t from Ceely Rose. I was trying to find Anything to keep from going home. I thought about going to a movie, but realized it was probably too late.
I thought about what I had said to Matt Simon, and I was right. Here, people were praising Ceely Rose, glorifying her crimes and keeping her name alive. On the other hand, there was this other woman, Mary Jane Hendrickson, who did nothing wrong. Now she’d been branded a witch and people were urinating on her so-called grave. If the stories were true and Mary Jane was haunting the cemetery, it was no wonder. I’d be pissed, too.
Ultimately, I decided to bite the bullet and start toward home. It was late enough that I was hoping I would be able to fall asleep soon. When I turned onto my street, I was deep in thought, which is why it was only when I got to my driveway that I felt my heart stop. Michael’s car was there.
Initially, I didn’t know what to do. My first thought was to back out and drive away, but I had to see him. I couldn’t help it. I knew he was there getting the rest of his things, and I also knew I was the last person in the world he wanted to see, but even knowing I shouldn’t, I pulled into the garage.
The familiar thud in my chest from my heart beating so fast was back, trailed by shortness of breath and shaking. Seeing him was the worst thing I could do right now. It would only send me back into the tailspin I’d been trying to get out of so desperately. It had been almost two weeks since he had left. Opening the door and walking into the kitchen, I subconsciously held my breath.
He was leaning back against the counter facing the door, waiting for me with his arms crossed. He looked as though he had lost some weight, and he had about three days’ growth of beard on his face. He seemed as exhausted as I felt, but he still looked wonderful. Trying to keep from running over and taking him in my arms was a feat in itself. I crumbled inside at the sight of him, and it was too much to take. He was staring at me with an intense look on his face, but he said nothing. I realized, as hard as it was, I needed to keep up my charade for his sake. I could barely mouth the words this time. My voice came out in a squeak.
“Michael.” I sounded hoarse. “You shouldn’t be here. Eric will be here any—”
He put his hand up. “Stop, CeeCee.”
I did stop. I was too tired to try to convince him anymore. I stood and looked at him. He uncrossed his arms and put them back on the counter, sighing deeply, while looking at the floor and then back at me. I stayed silent, because I knew any minute I would burst into tears. He spoke first, and it was so quiet I barely heard him.
“You know, I’ve never had anyone close to me die before.” I became alarmed thinking something had happened to someone we knew, but he continued, “That said, I don’t know any other way to explain how incredibly horrible these last two weeks have been for me.” His voice was as scratchy and hoarse as mine was.
I felt the rush coming, and I tried to fend it off. That didn’t stop my eyes from filling with tears, though. I continued to maintain my silence and let him talk.
“Never in my life have I felt pain like that. It physically hurt, and quite frankly, I didn’t think I would get through it. I think about what I said to you the night I left, and it makes me sick…especially now that I know the truth.”
“Michael, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I barely whispered.
“I know, CeeCee.” He stood straight, his eyes piercing right through me. “I know about Vanessa.”
I didn’t answer. I could only stare back at him. If he was bluffing, I didn’t want to give it away. There was no other way for him to find out unless Naomi called him. If she did, she would certainly hear about it from me. It didn’t matter, though. At that moment, Michael started nervously pacing back and forth across the kitchen.
“When I left here, Cee, I didn’t think I’d even be able to drive. You killed me. I was up the entire night wondering how this happened. I kept thinking this wasn’t like you, when it dawned on me: I’d just answered my own question. It wasn’t like you because it wasn’t true. I figured that out on the first night.” He stopped pacing and leaned back against the counter again. “The only problem was, I had to figure out why, and that would take some time.”
I should’ve known better. Michael was an experienced, top- notch investigator. The fact that I thought he would just walk away from us with no questions asked made me feel quite idiotic.
He continued, “I had that trial, so I couldn’t do Anything for a few days, which made things worse. But when I drove down here three days later, my suspicions were confirmed a little more, although not completely yet. I was in the parking lot one night you worked late in your office. I saw you walk out while Eric was kissing Jordan. It didn’t seem to me like you two were back together. I also saw you walk to your car and start crying. Of course, it was all I could do not to run over to you. It killed me to see you like that.”
I knew someone had been watching me that night. It was Michael.
“If you knew then, Michael, why didn’t you say something? Why wait almost another two weeks?” My eyes were flooded with tears.
“Because I needed to figure out why you did this in the first place.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, I thought there was a slight chance that you were telling me the truth, that Eric hadn’t told Jordan yet and that you guys were just putting up a front. When I called and found out that your divorce had been finalized after I’d left, there was no more room for doubt. I knew it had something to do with this custody thing, but I couldn’t quite figure out how. I called Naomi.”
Now he knew the truth. I still didn’t know what to say because it didn’t solve anything as far as Sean was concerned.
“CeeCee, when she told me everything about what Vanessa had done, I was completely bowled over. My heart absolutely broke for you and what you’ve been through, and God forgive me, the words I said to you when I left.” He wiped his watering eyes. “So, needless to say, I knew I had to take care of this before I talked to you, knowing how stubborn you are. To make a long story short, the custody case is over, CeeCee. Vanessa dropped the motion, and I guarantee she will never file one again.”
My jaw dropped. It was over? How? I looked at him to make sure I had heard right. His nod told me that I had. All I knew was that I had Michael back. The trauma from the last two weeks caught up with me in an instant. I fell apart completely. I fell to my knees, put my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably. I realized now that Naomi had known all along when she’d told me that things have a way of working out.
Only when I felt Michael’s arms embrace me did I truly comprehend that my nightmare was over. Feeling him hold me and touch me was all I could take. I grabbed him and held him for dear life, sobbing into his shoulder while we both sat on the kitchen floor. He held me just as tight, gently stroking my hair. We sat like that for what seemed like an hour before I began to relax. Sensing it, Michael took my face in his hands and pulled me close.
“Listen to me, CeeCee. Promise me you will
never
do something like this again, do you hear me?” His voice cracked. “We do things together, no matter what. If there’s a problem, you come to me and we’ll work it out. Promise me.”
I could only nod. Being this close, I couldn’t help pulling his face to mine and kissing him, something I thought would never happen again. It didn’t stop there, for me or him. I was tearing at his shirt just as he was at mine and within seconds we were making love on the floor in a passionate frenzy. I almost felt like I was dreaming and had to keep telling myself this was real and he was home.
We moved our lovemaking from the kitchen to the bedroom, where it continued for most of the night and into the early morning hours. I didn’t want to let him go, even when he got up to get a drink of water. I’m pretty confident he felt the same way, since he followed me downstairs when I remembered I hadn’t locked the house.
At one point, lying in each other’s arms, I asked him how he managed to get the custody case dropped.
“You really want to hear this right now? All right, but first tell me how your face got all scratched up. Was it from your stakeout at the grave the other night?”
I sat upright. “How’d you know about that?”
Even before I finished my question, I saw the small smile creep across his face and I knew. Naomi had been giving Michael a daily report of my schedule.
“Never mind.” I lay back down. “Tell me about Vanessa.”
“When Naomi told me what Vanessa had done…By the way, don’t get mad at Naomi. I didn’t give her much choice but to tell me. At any rate, I was beyond furious, to say the least. I was up for forty-eight hours trying to figure out a way to get us out of this mess, and there was only one thing I could do. When I called her and told her I had moved out and you and I were done, she was ecstatic. She kept insisting that I come over for dinner and talk about her and me, so I agreed.”
I sat up again. “What? Why?”
He laughed. “Relax and I’ll tell you. I had it all figured out and hoped she would play into it, which of course she did. When I got there, I was thrilled to see Sean, of course, and he kept asking about you. She was pissed about that.”
“I can only imagine.” I smirked.
“After dinner, I played nice, very nice. I acted like I was interested in getting back with her and even went so far as to bad- mouth you.” He saw me wince. “Don’t worry, as much as I hated to do it, it was the only way she would believe I was being truthful. Plus, she was drinking. It was only a matter of time before she confessed everything. She was so goddamn smug and proud of herself I wanted to smash her right in the face, and I’ve never even thought about hitting a woman in my entire life. The upside to all of this was I had my tape recorder on and recorded the whole shebang.”
“Did you sleep with her first?” I said weakly. I couldn’t help asking.
“Of course not!” He looked shocked. “As soon as she told me, I made an excuse to leave. Needless to say, she came unglued. She had this unrealistic vision of us renewing our wedding vows that night, I think. The next morning, first thing, I called my attorney and played the tape for him and told him what needed to be done. By the end of the day, he had been on the phone with Vanessa’s attorney. After playing him the tape, he told him a complaint would be filed with the bar association to start with. Next, the FBI was going to open an investigation into the domestic relations judge for corruption, along with an ethics investigation into her brother by the Cleveland Police Department. It took less than an hour and several phone calls to Vanessa by her brother and her attorney for her to drop the complaint.”
“That was when I got my notice that the depositions were canceled,” I reflected. “I assumed you and Vanessa had gotten back together.”
Now it was Michael who sat up. “God, CeeCee! I wish you would give me a little more credit. I still can’t believe you would think, after everything we’ve been through, that I would walk away from us so easily. Yes, I was thrown when you told me you had slept with Eric, and I let my emotions cloud my judgment, but I knew something was wrong with the whole picture that night.” He lay back down and sighed, caressing my face, which was nestled on his chest. “I’m just glad this nightmare is over.”
“You and me both,” I whispered.
I still felt traumatized, as if I had been in shock for several weeks and was just coming out of it. My mind and body were tired, and being here now with Michael didn’t seem real.
I looked at the window and saw the sun coming up. I let out a low groan.
“I can’t believe I have to start getting ready for work soon. I predict this is going to be a very long day.”
“You don’t have to work today,” Michael said matter-of-factly.
I sat up, confused. “Of course I have to work today.”
“No, you don’t. You have the day off, courtesy of your captain.” He was smiling. “I talked to her before you guys went to the play last night. She knew what was coming. She knows you have more important things to tend to today.”
“Let me guess, the important thing being you!” I nudged him playfully.
“That’s part of it.” He reached over and grabbed his pants off the floor and took something out of a front pocket. I couldn’t see what it was. “The other part is as soon as the courthouse opens, you and I are going to be there to get our marriage license.” He took my hand and slipped my engagement ring back on my finger. “And then we’re going to celebrate.” His face turned serious. “I can’t ever lose you again, Cee.”
I felt the tears returning, except these were different tears; they were from unreserved happiness. Michael pulled my face to his, brushing his lips gently over the wetness on my cheeks. Soon after, we were making love again.
If not for the marriage license, we probably wouldn’t have gotten out of bed all day, but we were both anxious. I took the last two weeks as a sign that anything is possible, no matter how secure one feels in their life.
As Michael promised, we were at the courthouse when it opened and had our marriage license in hand within fifteen minutes. Michael said he was taking me out to dinner that night to celebrate, but made the wonderful suggestion of going home and getting some sleep beforehand. We were both emotionally and physically exhausted.
We slept longer than anticipated, but neither of us complained. When we were getting ready to go out to dinner, I took a brief moment to call Naomi. I assumed she was dying to hear from me. She answered her phone immediately.
“Naomi, it’s CeeCee.”
“CeeCee! How are you?” She seemed nervous.
She wanted me to bring up the topic first, and I realized she thought I might be angry with her.
“I’m fine. Most importantly…thank you.”
She gasped into the phone. “He’s there! CeeCee, I’m sorry I told him, but it was just
so wrong!
I’m assuming everything’s okay now?”
“It will be if you agree to be my maid of honor.”
She let out a light whoop into the phone. “Oh my God! Of course! CeeCee, I’m so happy for you. Take this time and enjoy it, please. Don’t worry about work. It’s not going anywhere.” I could hear Coop in the background wanting a play-by-play. “Listen, CeeCee, enjoy to night. I want details later!”
I was lightly laughing to myself when I hung up. Never in a million years would I have ever thought that Naomi Kincaid- Cooper would be my maid of honor. Now I realized she was probably the best friend I’ve ever had.
Michael and I enjoyed our night together immensely. We ate, drank and even danced a little. I think both of us kept silently wondering if fate was going to try to screw with us again, both of us still recovering from the shock of it all. Nonetheless, we savored every moment.