She Wanted It All - Kathryn Casey [104]
Many afternoons, Celeste and Tracey met at a picnic table in a small creekside park just north of downtown. Since her arrest, Tracey’s friends at work stared at her. People treated her differently; many, including Pat and Jane, kept a distance. She felt alone. In mid-October she overdosed on prescription drugs and booze and spent another night in St. David’s, barely pulling through. But when they were together, Celeste appeared unconcerned about Tracey. She was worried about her own future.
“I think the kids are suspicious of me,” she said. “Not Kristina, but the others.”
“Do they know anything?”
“I don’t think so. They’re just guessing,” she said. Rambling on, she talked about Steve, saying that she’d never expected him to hold on for so long. She had to be at the hospital every minute, she told Tracey, watching to see who he was talking to. She didn’t even want him talking alone to her attorney, Burton, afraid of what he might tell him. “And the will’s not what I thought it was,” she lamented. Celeste complained that she’d thought she’d have access to Steve’s money, not be at the mercy of the bank. “I’m going to get him to change it,” she said.
Perhaps Steve truly believed Celeste was innocent; still, there must have been a nagging doubt, a little voice that asked, “Why would Tracey do this?”
“Do you believe that crazy nut? She had the hots for Celeste and was jealous of a fat old guy like me,” he said to one friend when he came to visit. The friend, who doubted Tracey had acted alone, only nodded. Around Steve, they all watched every word.
“His condition was up and down,” says Jennifer. “We didn’t want to upset him. We were afraid for him. And if we said anything, we were afraid he’d tell our mom.”
Only Kristina, who had no doubts about her mother’s innocence, asked Steve one day what he remembered from the night of the shooting. “Just waking up hurting like hell,” he said. “Now don’t you worry your pretty head about it.”
Still, that doubt must have been there, perhaps fueled by a visit from Kuperman in early November, when he laid out Celeste’s expenditures. In the month since the shooting, she’d spent nearly $300,000. Upset, Steve just shook his head. “I can’t think about this now,” he said. “When I get out of here, then I’ll take care of it.”
A month after the shooting, however, Steve was suddenly forced to confront his doubts. That afternoon, Celeste answered her cell phone in his hospital room. The girls listened as she talked, and they realized it was Tracey.
“Girls, wait outside. I want to talk to your mother,” Steve ordered.
They did as they were told. Minutes later Celeste left Steve’s room fuming. “Change all the phone numbers on the cell phones,” Celeste told Kristina.
Later the twins would find out what went on in that room. Steve had looked at Celeste and asked her, “Did you put Tracey up to this?”
The following day, Celeste told Kristina to go to the hospital. She’d written a letter for Steve and wanted her to read it to him. Kristina didn’t want to, but Celeste insisted.
In his room, Steve listened as Kristina read the rambling letter, in which Celeste maintained her innocence and pledged her love and devotion. “I love you and I didn’t do this,” Celeste had written. “Please believe me.”
When Kristina finished, she looked up and realized Steve was crying. Angry, he took a glass full of ice and threw it at her.
“Get out,” he shouted.
Kristina ran crying from the room.
Later that day Celeste walked into Steve’s hospital room and massaged away his doubts. Just like so many men before him, he couldn