FACES BEHIND THE STONES

Six feet under and nowhere to go. The air is musty and the accommodations crowded. There is no one to hear my screams or to feel my pain. If you are reading this you know it’s too late for me. Hear my voice. Listen to my story and you decide: Natural causes or murder?

My name is Maria. I’m alone in this coffin with nowhere to go and no one to hear my voice. Listen as I relate what happens when you are blindsided by love, and think the man you married and thought you knew for over twenty-five years really cares about you.

Prelude to Death:

Marriage was supposed to be a partnership, where two people worked for the common goal of making each other happy. Well, that was a crock of you know what!

Tony and I met at Starbucks. He had a mocha latte and I had hot chocolate with whipped cream. Romantic, wasn’t it? Tony made the first move and asked if we could spend our fifteen minutes of coffee time, or in this case hot chocolate/latte time, together. Thinking it would be nice to talk with someone rather than sitting all alone, I readily accepted his invitation, never figuring that it would turn out this way twenty-five years later. Tony told me about his ex-wife Sarah and his two children, Annabelle and Eva. I told him about my two children as well.

I should have realized by the way he spoke about his girls that Annabelle was his favorite and could do no wrong, where Eva seemed to be average and in his eyes a total failure. His ex-wife Sarah I had met before. She spent most of her days listening to her own voice, giving what she thought was sage advice to her girls, and annoying Tony as much as possible, hoping to get a huge divorce settlement, claiming she was entitled to it just for being married to him for so long.

Tony suggested that we go out to dinner that Saturday, and we spent a great evening getting to know each other. I told him about being managing partner of the law firm, and he said he owned a small but profitable pharmacy. We seemed to get along, but when he suggested I meet his two daughters several weeks later, the red flags should have been waving in my face. They were cold, calculating, and nasty, asking him for money on the spot, like it was planned to see my reaction, talking about their mother, and trying to make me feel uncomfortable. They succeeded. One thing led to another, and before too long Tony and I tied the knot.

We had been married for over twenty-five years, and you would think that he would have understood to keep it in his pants and stay loyal. But, that was not Tony. His temper had been rising and he had been coming home late. The SOB had the nerve to want dinner on the table as soon as he sauntered in, without calling to say he was going to be late. When he did get home, he always smelled of all sorts of perfumes and was covered in red lipstick, claiming he had several meetings and everyone liked to give warm greetings. When I asked once what else they liked to give, he shrugged it off as if it were no big deal.

Going to bed angry, I decided to sleep on the couch in the living room so I did not have to deal with him all night. If he got any more insufferable I might have to buy or rent another bed just to have a place to escape from him.

The next morning, I had a weird feeling from the minute I got up, but could not put my finger on it. I thought maybe I was being paranoid, because I’d heard Tony whispering on his cell phone to someone, but he quickly closed down the conversation when I entered the room.

I had always thought that I was happily married. I guess I was wrong. I never cheated on Tony, but I often felt that some of his late night meetings and out of town trips with several females were not to find out the latest breakthroughs in medical science or to learn what the latest medications were for different illnesses. Being a pharmacist, he did have an assistant. Her name was Rosalina, and she looked more like a hoochie coochie mama than an assistant. I didn’t think she was into learning anything about being a pharmacy assistant; I thought she was into something else, if you get my drift.

But every woman likes to think that other men are interested them. So, what was the harm of smiling, flirting with another man, and going for coffee after work? I guess a lot. After being married twenty-five years, I should have been used to his ways. But, his abusive attitude, words, and hateful stare could make anyone feel off kilter. Tony was tall and handsome, with dark hair and bedroom eyes, and women were constantly coming on to him even if I was with him. I was thin and fairly attractive, with blonde hair that I had straightened. As for clothes, I wore nothing but designer fashions. He wore whatever was on sale at Kmart or Target, or any outlet store.

I was a fit and spry woman of sixty five, and could still pass for under forty. I loved life, and had every reason to live and enjoy it. I was not only a grandmother, but a great grandmother, and I thought I had an adoring husband that worked so many hours, sometimes I would start to feel lonely. He indulged my every whim, but then threw it back in my face that he had the Platinum Card and I created the debt, just to humiliate me. I guess giving me his credit card was his way of eliminating his guilt.

Tony and I had our usual Monday morning discussion about finances, his self-worth and my lack of it, and much more. His condescending attitude and moral indignities were his way of starting my week off to a real big fat sour note. Only concerned about the almighty dollar and the fact that I might be spending some of his, he gave me his usual lecture about why I was so far behind in paying my charge cards, my other bills, and more.

After listening to his tirade for over twenty minutes, I put on my coat and decided to exit before the heart palpitations that I was feeling increased. I knew that my pressure was rising and I was feeling lightheaded, but would never tell this to the beast I had been married to for too many years. Never outwardly complaining to anyone, I decided to leave while I could still drive and go to work, where the next level of stress and difficulties awaited me.

Pulling out of the lot of my complex I began to feel more relaxed, and watching Tony drive in the opposite direction helped lower my pressure. I shut off my cell phone so I did not have to listen to him if he decided to call and continue his diatribe of financial advice while I was driving. I turned the volume up on my car radio and entered the line of traffic on the Palisades Parkway on my way to my exercise class.

I had gotten up that fateful morning feeling great physically, so I went to my exercise class with my friend and had a great workout. I felt invigorated and at least five pounds thinner by the end of the session. What could have gone wrong to cause what would happen before the day was out? Beats me, but it was not my idea of fun.

I called my sister early in the morning before my class and all was fine. When I started to ask her something, I saw that my class was starting and said I would talk to her later. Of course, later never happened, because…well, let’s continue.

After class, before going to work that morning I wanted to firm up my plans for the weekend by calling for tickets to a new Broadway show, and then doing some quick food shopping. Plus, I stopped at my favorite boutique to buy some clothes. Still, I had no idea that this was my last workout and shopping spree.

I was a managing partner in the Louis Fata law firm. I enjoyed working with Mark, Joseph, and Michelle, the paralegal that did much of the research and worked late hours along with the rest of us. Mark and Joseph were lawyers with the firm, but were not partners. I loved what I did, but lately there had been so many changes that I dreaded going into work to find out whose hours I had to cut, who would be laid off, and what other changes would befall me before I even took off my jacket and had my morning coffee.

Coming into work that day I began feeling a heaviness in my chest, and thought it might be indigestion from the waffles and eggs I had for breakfast after going to my exercise class before work. After entering the office, I met with my legal team and remembered to send someone to the bank to make the weekly deposits to meet the payroll, since this was a Friday. I decided to work on some briefs, type up some depositions, and get some work done for the next day, but I had an eerie feeling that something was going to happen.

When I went out for lunch, I had the feeling that I was being followed. I went into the lot of a McDonalds to get a hot chocolate, and a red car pulled up right next to my white van. Pulling out, the red car followed me, not even hiding the fact that it was tailing me. I turned around to try and see the driver, but the person was wearing a hat that covered his/her entire face, and all I could see were the eyes staring at me. A cold chill went through my entire body, and I was concerned that something or someone was out to get me, but had no idea why.

I had hidden secrets that should not be revealed, but so what. Who was going to stop me? Walking into the office, I checked to see if that car had parked in the lot. There was no sign of it, but I still had an uneasy feeling.

I never said anything to anyone at work, but Aggie noticed my facial expression as soon as I walked through the door.

“Maria, what’s bothering you? You look like you just saw a ghost. Did something happen?”

“No, everything is a fine, thanks for asking.” I never liked to mix work with my personal life, but maybe if I had told her the outcome would have been different.

Going through the motions of dealing with my clients and reading the briefs for the upcoming trial, I never noticed one tall, dark gentlemen lurking in the corner until Agnes asked if she could help him. Staring straight at her, he just glared and left. Chills ran down my spine. I never saw the face of the driver of the car, but something told me that this man had something to do with it. But, why? Who was this creepy man? Agnes followed her instincts and followed him out to see where he went, but to no avail. He had vanished, and she saw not a single sign of him.

The rest of the day I felt a little off balance and tense. I was sure others could see it in my face as my eyes started to twitch and my hands shook. I began thinking of anyone that might want to hurt me, and then a horrific thought crept into my head. Could it be her? How would she have found me? I had not seen her for over twenty-five years; could she still be out for revenge? Talented people like myself made enemies, and there was only one person who would want to hurt me. Would anyone carry a grudge for so many years? But who was the man? Did she hire someone to off me?

My secret past could not come out. Finding me had to be the work of someone else, because she was too stupid to find her way across the street. She had to have some help, and I wouldn’t rest until I found out who helped her and what she knew. But first I had to make one phone call to someone I had not spoken to in many years, and make sure the call could not be traced. Could she be working with him? I never thought she would double cross me.

I kept trying to think back to how this might have started. My best friend Audrey Ross was the only one that knew the truth and who I really was. I had changed my name, my appearance, and even got a new Social Security number so that no one would ever find me. The man in charge of the protection program that I entered swore that all traces of my past would be erased. So, who was following me and why? Who was trying to make sure that I remained silent? Would Audrey give away my identity, or was it someone in the law office that might be working two sides of the fence? My two kids from my first marriage need to be protected, and with the help of the man in charge of the protection program they were located somewhere else. I don’t even know where. He said it would be better if we had no contact for a while.

There was only one person, and that was Eve. She was a malicious bitch at times, and no one wanted to mess with her, including the clients. She even packed a gun on her ankle at work, being that she was a cop and worked in the office only part time.

I picked up my cell and dialed Audrey’s number, hoping that she answered the phone and not her husband Noel.

“What’s up, Maria? What’s going on?”

“Audrey, are you alone? Can you talk? I am in deep trouble. I think that my past is about to become my present. I am at work and my chest feels heavy, and I think I am about to keel over. On top of that, my doctor upped by blood pressure medicine dosage. My pressure is well over 160, and my heart rate must be even worse. I am having palpitations as we speak. I am totally terrified; my hands are sweating and the rest of me is ice cold. “

“Calm down, Maria. Don’t be so paranoid. How could she know where you are? Who could have told her?”

As I was talking to Audrey I sensed that someone else is in the room with her and I heard a low whisper. She had me on speakerphone, and someone was listening to our conversation. Instead of answering her I hung up and hoped she was not taping the call. I couldn’t believe she would double cross her best friend. Why? I guess it must have something to do with Noel.

Audrey and I had gone to school together to study law and hopefully work together in the same firm. She knew everything about me and I couldn’t imagine that she would tell anyone the truth or betray me. We had fun going to classes, doing our assignments, and going shopping in the city after our classes. Audrey and I had been best friends forever. So, what was up with this betrayal, and why would she rat me out to the enemy? I knew I should never have confided in her and told her what really brought me here and who I really was. Someone knew about my past, and someone was trying to frighten me into running again.

For whatever reason, I knew that I could no longer trust Audrey, and now I had to figure out what my next move would be, and where I could go until I found out who was following me and why. I couldn’t go to the police, and I couldn’t go home because my husband might be there and all hell might break loose if he found out what was really going on. But, fate took care of that for me…I never made it home and never would again.

We had a lot of briefs to go over and chose to meet right after lunch. Once everyone had all the information needed to proceed with this case, and we hoped that we would get an acquittal for the defendant, but in all honesty I was not perfectly sure of his innocence. While I made phone calls to the necessary parties to help with the defense, dealing with other clients first to make sure my calendar was clear to handle this murder trial, Michelle brought me coffee and a muffin and several other papers the group needed to assess before going into court.

Back at work, I was sitting at my desk and going over the transcripts with my legal team. As we started to read some of the transcripts from the depositions taken by my team from the witnesses for the prosecution, and others taken by their team of our major witnesses, I began feeling strange, first hot then cold, and decided to go to the ladies’ room and put some cold water on my face.

When I got up to go to the ladies’ room, no one expected the loud thud that followed. No one—including Tony, who showed up pretending to bring me some coffee, which I already had—did anything to help me. Pretending to care, Tony waited quite a while before he attempted to do CPR and chest compressions, but he had no idea what he was doing.

I felt like I was watching myself while floating over the body that he was attempting to revive. My past came flooding back to me while I watched and prayed I would remain part of the present. I’d always wanted to be a dancer and become one of the Rockettes. But, fate had something else in store for me. I saw myself taking dancing lessons on Hunts Point in the Bronx as Nettie and Jeannie Arcaro conducted the lessons. I saw my poor sister, waddling across the floor without any form and not very graceful. I could see myself learning new steps and tapping, while my poor sister was ready for a career as a klutz, and the dear thing could not even stand on toe shoes or walk properly with her ballet slippers. Class began and we all had fun. When it was over my mom took us out for a special treat.

School was not hard for me…I was really smart. I skipped a grade in junior high when I made the SP class, and I learned the hard way that with anything less than a ninety average you were ostracized by the teachers of the class for not being at the right level. I spent two years in junior high and then I went to high school, where I really did not want to be. I wanted to go to beauty and modeling school and then become a secretary. Instead I decided to go to college and get my BA. Enjoying the experience, I decided to take a run at law school, never figuring that I would become the managing partner in a law firm and have need for my own skills someday. At the time I graduated high school I was more interested in boys than dealing with term papers and tests. But, my sister encouraged me and told me that I was smart and it would be a waste not to use my intelligence. Graduating law school and taking the bar exam, I then focused on getting married. But, I never told Tony about my past, the mistakes I made, or why I’d gotten divorced in the first place. How could he understand what I had to do in order to make money to take care of my kids and myself without getting caught?

As the chest compressions continued and someone finally called for help, I remembered the red car that had been tailing me on the way to my office, and still could not see the face hidden behind the hat and face mask. No matter how hard I tried to lose the driver of the car, this person had persisted in following me. When I turned into the parking lot of my office the car had disappeared. I never told anyone what had happened. In retrospect, I probably should have.

It was starting to come back to me. I feel like I was about to come back to the present when I felt a burning sting in my arm. I opened my eyes for a second and saw the face of the man hidden in the corner, and then Tony turning around and smiling at him. For some reason Audrey was in my office but I have no idea why she was there. She worked in Staten Island; so why was she there? The cold stare in Audrey’s eyes frightened me, but she just stood still. Putting on her coat to leave, she turned around and smiled at me. Her smile sent chills down my spine. Was she in it with Tony? Were they lovers or was I imagining things?

I heard the medics say that after five minutes there was no hope for me, and the brain cells that died would never come back. Anoxia brain injury occurred, and that was life threatening and could cause cognitive problems and disabilities. In my case it caused worse. Lack of O2 and no more brain power; what was the world going to do without me to help run so many lives?

The problem was that everyone had stood around, frozen, and no one called 911. No one moved. It was as if they were part of a silent movie and had no idea what the captions were on the screen nor how to handle what had happened. Tony had arrived with more coffee, and when he saw me on the floor stated that I had a tendency for the melodramatic, and he too just shook his head and stood there staring at me, doing nothing. When they finally realized that I was not moving, someone checked my neck and wrists for a pulse, which was slow and uneven and almost nonexistent.

At that point Michelle figured it was time to call 911. Tony tried to grab the phone out of her hand but she finally made the call; unfortunately, it was too late. Feigning that he cared, Tony pretended to do chest compressions until the paramedics came and took over.

27 minutes and my life was sucked out from under me because no one moved, no one believed that I was in danger of dying, and no one seemed to care. 27 minutes and my voice was silenced. Who would have believed that he would not call for help, but instead pretended to do chest compressions—or something that was supposed to be chest compressions—and waited 27 minutes before those three numbers would be called?

So, why the hell would I want to just keel over and die? I would not. What caused me to have what was ruled a massive heart attack? The jury was still out on that one. Could it have been something else? Maybe someone put a little something in my Snapple or orange juice. After all, I was quite hot and some of the women I worked with and met at my exercise classes were damn jealous of me. After all, what woman of my age still looked great in a bikini?

I had worked all my life and put my heart and soul into everything I ever did. I ran the office I worked in better than a well-oiled ship. People could come to me for advice in their personal lives and businesses, and I would make sure that everything was solved correctly.

Working was great, but I overworked myself and now look where I was. Stress and worry can kill you too. Take it from me, I know that for a fact. Could I have imagined seeing Audrey in my office? Could it have been someone else? Either way, it was not going to change my situation. How was anyone going to know what really happened to me and why I would not be there for my kids to protect them anymore?

It was too late and the events had now been written in stone. I hovered over my body and saw Tony standing there with a smirk on his face and glancing over his shoulder as his assistant, Rosalina, came barreling through the door. She pretended to comfort him, but not before he whispered in my ear, “Die, Maria! Die.… Do everyone a favor and just go!” I fought and fought, but nothing came out of my mouth.

At the hospital, dear f……Tony wanted them to pull the plug immediately. He called my kids, but never called my sister. When he finally did, five hours later, she carried on, called in the head of neurology, demanded to speak with the staff that was on my case, and got me a stay of execution for about one month. My sister came every morning, monitoring my care, and called all throughout the night.

Tony was just biding his time. He even had his girlfriend come to the hospital pretending to be a caring friend. Rosalina was a real piece of work, and not a valuable one. Staring at me and willing me to die, she and Tony looked like they would break out in song and dance if and when I went.

My sister was more than upset. Family members came and went, but no one except my sister realized what Tony really wanted, and that he was just pretending to care. With him never missing a day of work and asking my sister if she could be there every morning, how could anyone not wonder just how much he cared? HE DIDN’T.

Tony had been cheating on me for a long time, and for whatever reason Rosalina seemed to be the one that had caught his eye. My sister Felicity Ella was the only one except my children who really cared about me. So, as I lay there with the tubes and machines keeping me alive I wondered why he waited so long to call for help. What did he have to gain besides his freedom? Each morning when my sister came to the hospital he made sure he was not there. He called her every morning to reassure himself that she would take care of my needs and he could supposedly attend all of his business meetings, then come to see me later in the day and pretend to care and be upset.

Every time he entered my room the heart monitors went off, and no one realized that it is a signal from me to keep him away. I was so glad that I was never left alone with this monster, but he unfortunately had the final say and moved me into Palliative Care, which was what Dr. Fredricks and others had wanted from day one.

Palliative Care was quiet, and they were about to remove the tubes and machines that were keeping me alive. Tony even convinced the doctor to give me more much more morphine, claiming that I was in pain. How would he know? Morphine, I heard the nurse say, speeds up death. Thanks so much for caring. My sister tried her best, calling every hospital that dealt with traumatic brain injury in many countries around the world and the two main centers in the U.S. Everyone said if I woke up and was off the machines they would help bring me back.

They removed them all, and I just lay there waiting for the inevitable to come. My sister was holding my hand and called my children to come in to say their final goodbyes. At 11:30 P.M. I took my final breath.

Now, here I am, six feet under, wearing the same outfit every day, with no one to talk to, nowhere to go, and my family all alone and in need of help. Think about it. My sister planned my funeral. He tried to refuse to pay for it. He just showed up with his girlfriend. The crocodile tears and the fake outpouring of grief would made me lose my lunch, if I were alive.

From inside my coffin I heard Tony talking to someone, whispering so no one around him attending my funeral would hear his words. The smile on his face was quite telling, and the cunning look of victory let me know that he was anything but sad that I was gone. Just how was I going to let everyone know that he was guilty of my death?

One week later when my funeral took place, my miserable, piece-of-dirt husband did not even think it was necessary to purchase a quality stone. Thank God my sister and my children took care of that, and my sister refused to allow him to participate in the ceremony.

Was it murder? Did he have an insurance policy that he collected on? Is he living high? My name is Maria. Please find it in your heart to grant me justice!

Detective Florio of the New Jersey Police force would not let this case go, and after reading the file he decided to do some investigating on his own. Reviewing the doctor’s notes, interviewing the ER doctors, and finally trying to get a handle on my physical condition, he was stumped when he learned that my test results came back negative and that no one understood why I’d had a massive heart attack. Could someone have changed my blood pressure medicine? Could someone have drugged my coffee? Could someone have wanted me dead?

Detective Florio was my friend for many years, and something about my death bothered him. Searching for answers would not be easy, but with his years as a detective on the force he just might have the right connections to find out the truth.

The funeral was set for a Friday morning. The day was bleak, the sky was cloudy, but the attendance was over three hundred people. Everyone had loved me, except Tony. Tony met with the funeral director, my sister, and my brother only to ask if my sister was going to pay for the funeral. Imagine not wanting to pay for your own wife’s funeral and getting angry when told it was his responsibility. While the details were being confirmed many people arrived. After the initial discussion and the program having been established, Tony went out to greet the mourners. One stuck out in Detective Florio’s mind. A well-dressed woman with dark hair, who we knew to be Rosalina, seemed to attach herself to Tony. My sister remembered her coming to the hospital many times and appearing forlorn and upset, but my sister knew it was an act.

Watching the mourners and revisiting his notes, Detective Florio stood in the back of the room watching each person as they walked up to say their final goodbyes before the funeral began.