Lisa Gardner - The Survivors Club

“I would like to ask him that question.”

“Sergeant Griffin, my husband doesn't love me that much. Try the girlfriend. Maybe she also likes expensive old homes.”

Griffin brought up his hand. Too late. Carol Rosen had already closed the door. He tried knocking, but she wouldn't respond. After another minute, he returned to his car, where he sat behind the steering wheel and frowned.

He didn't like leaving Carol Rosen alone in her current state of mind. Last night she'd shot her husband, and that was before she'd learned about Sylvia Blaire.

He picked up his cell phone and gave Meg Pesaturo a try. No answer. Next call, Jillian's beach house. Also a dead end. Then he dialed her East Greenwich residence, where he finally got a person.

“Hello,” Toppi Niauru said.

Jillian wasn't in, so Griffin told Toppi about Carol Rosen. She said that she and Libby would be right over.

Carol's historic house didn't have wheelchair access, so Griffin hung out in the driveway. Forty-five minutes later, Toppi pulled up in a dark blue van. She opened the side door and operated the wheelchair lift to lower Olivia Hayes to the ground.

Jillian's mother had put on makeup for the occasion. She had her dark hair piled high on her head, and greeted Griffin with a kiss.

At 5:00 P.M., he carried Libby up the front stairs while Toppi followed with her wheelchair. At 5:01, they all knocked on the door.

At 5:10, they stopped knocking, and Griffin took down the door with his shoulder. At 5:11, they found Carol sprawled on the rug in front of the blaring TV, her hand still clutching the empty bottle of sleeping pills.

Griffin started CPR, Toppi called for an ambulance and Dan Rosen, with his usual sense of timing, finally came home.

JILLIAN ARRIVED FIRST. SHE FORCEFULLY SHOVED HER WAY through the pack of reporters clogging the hospital parking lot, then bustled through the emergency room doors.

“Goddamn vultures!” she cried as the electronic doors finally slid shut, but not before some earnest reporter shouted out, “Ms. Hayes, have you ever thought of committing suicide?”

Meg and her family were shortly behind Jillian. A uniformed officer had located their vehicle outside Vinnie Pesaturo's home and passed along the news. Arriving in the hospital parking lot, Vinnie shouted, “Outta my way, you rat bastards,” and the reporters, recognizing an armed man when they saw one, let the family through.

The moment they were inside the ER, Meg homed in on Jillian. “Where is she? Is she okay? What have you heard?”

“I don't know. We need a doctor. There. You in the white coat. What can you tell us about Carol Rosen?”

“Jillian! Over here. Jillian!”

Jillian and Meg turned in time to see Toppi waving at them from the other side of the waiting room. Next to her sat Jillian's mother. Next to Olivia, sat Sergeant Griffin.

“Why is your mother here?” Meg asked.

“Is that really the Olivia Hayes?” her father breathed.

“I'm going to kill Sergeant Griffin,” Jillian said.

They rushed across the emergency room, where Toppi rose to meet them. “How is she? Is she going to be all right?” Jillian's hands were shaking. She didn't even realize it until Toppi reached out and clasped them in her own.

“We don't know yet.”

“Oh God-”

“Her husband is talking to one of the doctors now. Maybe he'll know something soon.”

“What happened ?”

“It looks like she overdosed on sleeping pills. Maybe some alcohol as well.”

“Oh no.” Meg now. She had started to cry. “I didn't realize… I mean, I knew she was upset, but I didn't think…”

“No one could know,” Jillian said, but the words were automatic, lacking genuine conviction. They were Carol's friends; they'd seen her just this morning. Maybe they should have known. Meg's mother put an arm around her daughter's shoulders.

“And where was the husband during all this?” Uncle Vinnie boomed.

Toppi shrugged and looked at Griffin. He said simply, “Out.”

“Figures,” Uncle Vinnie snorted.

“I can't take this,” Jillian said. “I'm going to find a doctor.”

She headed for the receptionist's desk, and wasn't surprised when Griffin followed.

“How could you?” she railed at him the moment they were out of earshot of the others. Her hands were still shaking. She felt sick to the bottom of her stomach with worry for Carol.

“How could I what?”

“Get my mom involved in all of this!”

“Oh don't you start!” Toppi had just caught up with them, and she barreled into the conversation fiercely. “Look at her! Glance over your shoulder and just look at her!”

Jillian thinned her lips mutinously, but did as she was told. Her mom now had Meg's father and uncle literally at her feet. The two men were talking animatedly. Her mother was smiling.

“She looks pretty good to me,” Griffin said.

Jillian stabbed his overpumped chest with her finger. “ You are not allowed to speak.” Then she turned back on Toppi. “She's fragile-”

“She's fine.”

“EMTs put her on oxygen just last night!”

“She had a shock.”

“And finding Carol on the floor of her home wasn't shocking?”

“Probably, but I imagine it was still worse for Carol.”

“Oh!” Jillian was so mad she yanked on her gathered hair. “I don't want her involved!”

“Too late. She's your mother. She's involved.”

“She'll just worry more.”

Toppi snorted. “She was already worried. This finally gave her something to do.”

“Toppi!”

“Jillian!” Toppi mocked. “Look, I'm being serious now. When Sergeant Griffin called, I asked your mom what she wanted to do. She didn't hesitate for a second. Carol is your friend. Libby was delighted to help her in any way we could. And it's a damn good thing, too.” Toppi's voice finally quieted. “I know she wasn't around much when you were a child, Jillian. But you're not a child anymore. You grew up. Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe she did, too?”

Toppi walked back to the group, where Meg was now leaning her head against her mother's shoulder and Libby was flipping rapidly through her picture book to the apparent delight of Tom and Uncle Vinnie. Jillian turned back to Griffin. “Don't say it,” she warned.

“Haven't muttered a word.”

“She's wrong, you know. Toppi's the one who doesn't get it. I know my mom has changed. But I've never had a father, and I no longer have a sister. Libby… She's all I have left.”

At the receptionist's desk, no one would help her. She wasn't family, and in the eyes of medical protocol being a fellow rape victim didn't count. They knew who Jillian was, of course. The nurse in charge was even kind. And then for the first time, Jillian realized the full implication of where they were. Women amp; Infants. One of Providence's best hospitals and where each one of them had been at least once before… On those nights, that night, the night.

She turned away, no longer so steady on her feet. Of all the strange bonds… And then she suddenly realized that she couldn't lose Carol. She just couldn't. Carol had to survive and then it would be Jillian, Carol and Meg again, sitting in the back room of some restaurant, and arguing or laughing, or being petty or being genuine, but certainly helping one another cope.

She had started the Survivors Club with so much purpose, but maybe at the end of the day, the group had worked even better than Jillian had thought. Because standing here now, she couldn't imagine not seeing Carol. She couldn't imagine even a week going by without it being her, Carol and Meg.