Chapter 46 Ada #2
A little smile of approval, then Mother kisses her cheek. “What a lovely idea.”
Returning the kiss is perhaps more difficult than spinning her story. Only once Mother is gone does Ada realize how tightly
she’s digging her fingernails into her palms.
She convinced Mother to agree. Next she will convince Ingrid the moment she visits, which will be soon, of course; she’s probably as eager to talk as Ada is. She’s going to hate what Ada has in mind.
When the guard gestures for Ada to exit, she obliges. “Sir, might I make a call?”
“No calls permitted.”
“Then will you do me a favor? My sister should be scheduling a visit soon, and I’d like to know the moment she does so I’ll
know when to expect her. Please, it’s quite important. Her name is—”
“Do you think this is a movie set where you expect everyone to do your bidding?” His mouth twists with apparent disdain. “You’re
not a celebrity here. You’re no one.” Then he shoves her down the hall, so she swallows a retort and walks dutifully back
to her cell. She’ll just have to wait to hear from Ingrid.
Yet over the next three months, she hears from no one. Not Mother, not Gordon, not Vince, not Ingrid. Ada is alone with herself,
her fellow inmates, and the plan she needs to implement the moment she’s released. One she can’t fulfill without her sister.
The person who has not contacted her at all.
Maybe Ingrid’s visit and their reconciliation was an act. Ingrid has deceived her before.
Had Ada kept her mouth shut at the hearing, Ingrid might not have been exposed as her relation. For that, perhaps Ada had
not been as forgiven as she thought. Perhaps Ingrid was only trying to get more information about the war crimes case to pursue
Dietrich herself, win acclaim once he’s caught, and secure another job in government.
It wouldn’t be the first time Ingrid used Ada to advance her own career.
No, it can’t be true. She knows Ingrid, trusts her. Even though she has not come.
On a crisp January morning when Ada is released from the California Institution for Women, it is not Gordon or Ingrid who picks her up, but Mother.
“Come along, darling,” Mother says without preamble, gesturing for Ada to get into the car. “You’ve got a party to attend.”
The drive from the prison to Hollywood Hills is spent in overwhelming silence.
A party awaits—one Gordon planned, apparently, despite never visiting. Mother will not let Ada out of her sight until she
hands over the negatives, which means she’s likely prepared to fulfill Ada’s request to speak to Ingrid. Except Ada only made
that request because she thought she and Ingrid would have time to discuss what Ada has in mind. Instead Ingrid never contacted
her. Now Ada can either forgo her plan or trust that her sister still intends to help her and hope to God they manage.
Which is the only choice she has, really. Otherwise, Mother and Dietrich will take her negatives and disappear.
When they reach Gordon’s house, Ada hurries ahead—both to crush him in an embrace and to send him on an errand, tell him she’d
rather spend some time alone with Mother, anything to get him away before Dietrich gets here. If he’s not here already.
“Gordon? Sowerby, come here, my darling boy!”
Neither the sound of footsteps nor the scrabble of tiny paws on the parquet floors. Quiet. Then, at last, footsteps on the
living room carpet. With a relieved breath, Ada rushes in their direction.
“Darling, I missed you so—”
She stops. The man in the living room is not Gordon, and there is not a terrier anywhere in sight.
His condescending stare leaves her skin prickling; the scar across his neck leaves her own scar aching. She can’t endure seeing him again, but she has no choice. She developed this plan and dragged her sister into it. God willing, together, they can get out.
Ada doesn’t flinch as Dietrich approaches her, or when he takes her hand.
“Always a pleasure, Fr?ulein.”
Before he can bring her hand to his lips, she snatches it away. “What have you done with him? And my dog?”
“Manners,” Mother chides, joining them. “Gordon probably took the little beast on a walk.”
He would not be taking the time for a leisurely stroll, not even for Sowerby. A quick jaunt down the street and back, maybe,
but no more when party preparations take precedence.
Ada sucks in a sharp breath, already considering all the terrible possibilities, when a car pulls onto the motor court. A
man with a handlebar mustache steps out, followed by a Yorkshire terrier.
Gordon hasn’t made it halfway to the door before Ada is outside and throwing her arms around him, then crushing Sowerby to
her chest, blinking past tears as she kisses both.
“Your mother insisted on picking you up, so Sowerby and I went to pick up the dress I ordered for you.” He indicates the garment
bag in his hand, then nods to the dog. Questions about Mother and the man she brought with her will certainly follow, but
they have no time for those.
Without loosening her embrace, Ada keeps her voice low. “When Ingrid gets here—” Then she stops, feeling Mother’s hand on
her forearm—then Sowerby’s little body vibrating with a growl.
“Run along, darling. Make yourself presentable.”
Continuing her explanation is not worth the risk of Mother overhearing, so Ada swallows back everything she wanted to say and scratches beneath Sowerby’s chin while Gordon leads the way.
Yet tension coils in her stomach. Resolving this will be even more difficult to do discreetly once guests arrive.
After getting ready under Mother’s supervision—Dietrich’s orders to watch her, probably—Ada closes Sowerby into her bedroom,
keeping him safe despite his dissatisfaction with being left behind. Downstairs, music fills the house while the usual chatter
and revelry take place around the pool. Gordon selected a gown of ivory satin for her, which she adorns with pearls. Perhaps
she can slip away from Mother long enough to tell him how to help. She doesn’t want him involved, but she might not have a
choice.
Gordon waits at the bottom of the stairs, then he offers Ada his arm. “Shall we?”
“Mother and I would like to wait for Ingrid. Tell everyone I’ll be along shortly.” She kisses his cheek and squeezes his arm
to reassure him.
Gordon says nothing, then nods. His eyes stay on Mother as she gestures for Ada to lead the way.
Already, Ada’s heart is thudding. Mother won’t leave her side. She will have no time to communicate a plan to Ingrid, to do
anything but forfeit the evidence she can’t allow Dietrich to have. She manages a few steps before she pauses and whirls to
face Gordon.
“Oh, I forgot to thank you. A few months ago, before my trial, I noticed you fixed my little robin in the library, the one
Sowerby broke.” She shakes her head, chuckling. “The one time I took it off the shelf, and after I told him to stay away from
it . . . Perhaps someday that little rascal will listen to me.”
She guides Mother away before Gordon’s furrowed brow can betray the lie.
He will understand the message; he must. The bird is from Ingrid, and Ada mentioned listening for a reason.
If she can’t intercept Ingrid, perhaps Gordon can.
Then Ingrid can tell him how to tap into the device and catch Mother and Dietrich in the confession Ada hopes to extract—a plan she has had no time to prepare given the lack of communication with her sister.
Without Gordon’s understanding, the device that could be of so much use to them will be of none at all.
In the library, they take their seats while the sounds of the party fade. To Ada’s right, the little robin sits on its shelf—eyes
bright, head cocked to one side. Listening.
Now to wait for Ingrid.
Ada focuses on her breathing and the heartbeat thrumming in her ears, absorbs the addictive rush that precedes stepping onto
the stage or in front of the camera, focuses on her role. She has always been a performer. Tonight, convincing her audience
will require all her skill. And even that might not be enough.