Chapter 9: The Weight of What Was Recovered
The grand jury convened six weeks later.
I know because Vasquez called me the morning it began.
She didn't give me details — she never gave details — but she said, "It's moving," and I understood what that meant.
Lily had her formal interview with the child advocacy team on a Wednesday.
The room had soft chairs and a fish tank and a woman named Dr.
Okafor who had the kind of voice that made you feel like the ceiling was lower and the walls were closer and you were safe inside that smallness.
I sat in a waiting room for two hours.
When Lily came out, she looked tired in the way that children look tired when they've been asked to carry something heavy for adults.
Dr.
Okafor came out behind her and caught my eye and gave me a small nod.
In the car on the way home, Lily looked out the window for a long time.
"She asked me to tell it like a story," Lily said finally.
"Dr.
Okafor.
She said to just tell it like I was telling a story to a friend."
"Was that easier?"
"Kind of." A pause.
"I told her about the names.
And the red light on the camera.
And the door." She turned from the window to look at me.
"I told her that when Chloe said her real name, Mrs.
Cole grabbed her arm the same way she grabbed mine in the morning.
The same hand.
The same fingers."
I kept my eyes on the road.
"Did it help to tell it?" I asked.
Lily thought about that seriously, the way she thought about most things.
"It felt like putting something down," she said.
"Like when your backpack is really heavy and you finally get to take it off."
I nodded.
"But it's still heavy," she said.
"It's just not on me right now."
I reached over and put my hand over hers for a moment.
Three weeks after that, Vasquez called again.
"Dennis Alan Pruitt has been formally charged," she said.
"Eleven counts.
The DA is pursuing the maximum on each."
"Eleven," I said.
"The footage covered multiple dates.
Multiple children.
Not all of them have been identified yet.
The investigation is still active."
"And Brenda Cole?"
"Seven counts as of this morning.
Conspiracy, facilitation, production — I can't be more specific than that.
Her attorney is in active negotiation with the DA's office."
"Negotiation," I said.
"She's trying to make a deal."
"That's the process."
"Will it work?"
A pause.
"The footage is comprehensive.
Her attorney knows what a jury would see.
I expect the negotiation will not result in a favorable outcome for her."
That was the most direct thing Vasquez had ever said to me.
"One more thing," she said.
"Gerald Fitch's notebook.
The partial plate, combined with the traffic footage — it placed Pruitt's vehicle at the Cole residence on nine separate occasions over fourteen months.
The DA is using that to establish pattern and premeditation."
"Gerald's notebook," I said.
"Six spiral notebooks," Vasquez said, and I could hear something in her voice that wasn't quite a smile but was close to one.
"Thirty-eight months of license plates.
The defense is going to have a hard time with Gerald Fitch."
After I hung up, I drove to Gerald's house.
I knocked on his door.
He answered with the notebook in his hand, like he'd been expecting someone.
"They're using it," I said.
He looked at the notebook.
Then he set it on the hall table.
"Good," he said.
We stood there for a moment.
"Do you want to come in?" he asked.
"I just made coffee."
May you like
"Yes," I said.
"I do."
