Tanis quietly petted Cisco and then sat on the makeshift couch with the dog nearby. She pulled her bare feet under her to get comfortable. “What did you want to know, Detective?”
Katie had all sorts of questions she wanted to ask, but as she watched the frail young woman petting Cisco, she hesitated. “Well…” she began. “You lived at Elm Hill Mansion?”
“Yes.”
“How long did you live there?”
“Since I was thirteen,” she said.
Katie assumed that to mean about five years. “What was it like there?”
Never looking up from Cisco, she said, matter of fact, “It was like living in a jail waiting for the she-beast to attack.”
Katie carefully worded her questions, realizing that not only was Tanis physically frail, she was emotionally frail too. “The she-beast—are you referring to Shelly McDonald?”
She nodded.
“Did everyone call her that?”
“Yes. Because she was,” she replied, looking directly at Katie. Diverting her attention to Cisco, she continued, “She was horrible. She was moody, taking things out on us and making us do things that were wrong, especially when the police officer visited. But her anger was mostly fixated on me.”
“Why was that?”
“Because I complained the least and I was quiet. It made her mad that I kept quiet, unlike the others who resisted, threw fits, and called her names.” She paused. “The others were different. Heather was the cheerleader, she kept it positive and smiled through it all. And you never knew what Terry would come up with, such a drama queen.” Tanis smiled, as if remembering better times.
“And Karen?”
Tanis’s expression turned sour. “Karen was a dark person, but it was an inward kind of dark.”
A slight breeze blew through the tiny apartment and one of the wind chimes jangled. The sunlight seemed to sparkle through some of the trinkets and ornaments.
“What was it like with Candace? The discipline?” Katie looked to McGaven who had been listening intently and seemed to have a melancholy expression on his face—a look of sadness as if recalling a memory.
Cisco sat close to Tanis, reveling in all the attention he received, but it was also as if his sixth sense knew that Tanis needed some comfort and love. Dogs were like that—and Cisco was no different. He quietly panted, ears straight ahead as the pets kept coming.
Tanis looked up. “Oh, no. It wasn’t like that for Candace. She was special.”
“Special. How?” Katie gently pushed.
“Well, she was beautiful. Everyone loved her and wanted to be her friend. She was one of those people that you noticed, know what I mean?”
Katie nodded.
“She stood up for people. She didn’t take crap from anyone. Life was too short.”
“You two were close?”
“Yes.”
“She watched over you?”
“Oh yes. Things changed for me when she came to stay at Elm.”
Katie smiled. “I had a friend like that. Who looked out for me. We were inseparable.”
Tanis looked up. “Really? What happened to her?”
“She… passed away.”