This part of the story begins on June 20, 2011. I arrived back in CT at Tiffany's apartment from Charlotte where I had gone for Hunter's first birthday. I had been with her for 10 days and left from JFK to fly to Charlotte. I remember arriving in Stamford, calling to let her know I was there so she could let me in. Off she came from the elevator in her sweats, Riley at her side on his leash and her hair twisted up on top of her head. She seemed happy to see me and we spent the night watching TV and talking. I asked her if she wanted me to stay with her but then I realized that I had to be at the office on Friday to do exit interviews and mail out checks. So we decided that she would come home for the weekend so that she could co-sign the lease for the new car as the old lease was up. I got up that Tuesday morning to see her off to work. She was beautiful in her navy polka dot silk skirt, beige top and beige ballet flats. We hugged good-bye and that was the last time I saw her in this life.
We had finished dinner and were enjoying wine and conversation when at 10:30 pm my phone rang. It was Tiffany and she was sobbing so hard I couldn't understand what she was saying. Apparently she had had a text exchange with a family member that had really upset her. She told me the gist of it and then she hung up the phone. I tried to call her back but she wouldn't answer. I finally texted her to answer her phone but got no reply. My last text to her, which she never read, was "I love you more than life itself". I sat there stunned and petrified. I started to cry and told my friend I was afraid something would happen to Tiffany and that if she were to die, I don't know how I would go on. I can't tell you why these thoughts went through my head or what it was that triggered it.
My immediate response was to get in my car and drive to Stamford. My friend tried to convince me not to do that but it was the call from Ryan that made me decide not to. He had spoken with Tiffany and was about 75% certain he had calmed her down. We decided not to call the police so as not to embarrass Tiffany since she had been through this situation a few times before. She promised him she would not do anything and they made arrangements to touch base on the phone around midnight. When Ryan couldn't reach her at the agreed-upon time on either of her phones, he called me. By this time I was home and I was torn about what to do. It seemed to us that it would be best to wait because now her work phone was on but she wasn't answering it. Throughout the rest of the night and through the morning I kept calling but her personal cell was off and she didn't answer her work cell.
On Saturday, June 25, I was in constant touch with Ryan and our best explanation was that she was out therapy shopping; although why her personal cell wouldn't be on was a puzzle. I got the phone number for her friend, Elyse, to ask her if she had been in touch with Tiffany. She said she hadn't talked to Tiffany in a while so I called the apartment complex. I convinced the woman at the complex to go to Tiffany's room to check on her. She called me back about 11 am to say that everything looked fine. The TV was on and that Duke was in the living room. The TV being on seemed strange to me but what I could do from 2 hrs away? The crux of the matter here was that the woman did not go any further into the apartment than the kitchen and Tiffany's bedroom was around the corner.
By 3:00 pm, I was completely frantic. I made arrangements to rent a car since my lease was up and by 6:00 pm I was in the car with Riley on the way to Stamford. Riley sat in the passenger seat curled up as I drove the more than 2 hrs to Stamford. I can remember Katy Perry's "Firework" playing on the radio and Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years". To this day, the songs that played on the radio during that horrible drive resonate with me whenever I hear them.
I arrived in Stamford around 8:30 pm and when I got to the apartment complex, I was able to get in as someone was coming out. I had given Tiffany her apartment key back so I had no other option. I went to her apartment on the 6th floor and knocked endlessly on the door, calling her name. I could hear that the TV was still on and I could only assume she wasn't there or she was sleeping. I went back outside to see if I could see into her apartment. There was light on in the living room, the blinds were half-way down as she normally kept them and I knew the TV was on. However, the bedroom was dark and the blinds were pulled all the way down which was not normal. Then I went looking for her Jeep and I found it parked in front of the building. Then I knew that she had to be in her apartment and I was scared to death.
I was torn as to what to do so I called her father but he really wasn't very helpful. I was so afraid and said to him, "for all I know she could be dead in her bed". Little did I know how true that was that was going to prove to be. The concierge wasn't there but there was a number to call. I called and explained the situation and desperate I was. The woman from the complex came to meet me and we (including Riley) went up to Tiffany's apartment. We walked in and she said to me, see everything's exactly how it was earlier today. I could see that there was a glass of what looked like orange juice on the kitchen counter. I walked further into the apartment, calling Tiffany's name. I turned to the right towards her bedroom. To this day I can't remember if the light on her nightstand was on but I can remember seeing her laying on her bed, covered by her comforter and her hair sticking out from under the comforter.
I walked into her bedroom and went up to the bed. I pulled the comforter away from her head and there she lay on her right side as she were peacefully sleeping. She was in her sweatpants, a tank top and her fuzzy robe. I knew from one look at her that she had left this mortal coil. Her face was colorless with small bruises around her eyes. I touched her cold and stiff shoulder, shook it and called her name in the deepest of despair. I started to scream, "Oh my God, she's dead!! SHE'S DEAD!". I ran into the bathroom, back to the bedroom, pacing around the room, went back up to her to touch her to see if it were a dream. But it was all too real. The poor woman grabbed me and said, "No, she isn't. We'll call 911".
During all this, Riley obviously sensed that something was wrong and sat on her couch and I sat on one of her bar stools, completely numb and in utter anguish and shock. The EMTs and police came. They found 2 large empty bottles of wine in the garbage that had been purchased at 7:00 pm Friday night, as well as empty prescription bottles in the bathroom. An EMT came out of the closed bedroom and approached me. I looked at him and said, "Please, please tell me that she isn't dead". "I'm sorry", he said and I knew it was true. The police asked me questions but what they were, I can no longer recall. I do know they looked at her cell phone and asked about the text exchange. But when I got the phone back, that text exchange was gone from the phone.
I was filled with such agony that I couldn't turn my brain off. Around 7:30 am on Sunday, I went to the hospital ER because I thought I was losing my mind. They put me in a bed, gave me something for my anxiety and had a pastor and psychiatrist come and talk to me. After I don't know how long, I went back to the hotel to wait for Troy's arrival and my brother, Ian, from Boston. They kept me somewhat sane that day. My brother went back to Boston that night and on Monday, Troy and I left for NY with Riley and Duke.
The next several days were a whirlwind of funeral arrangements, going through pictures for her video and collages, and closing up her apartment. On July 4, 2011, all her belongings were unpacked and put in my house. This nightmare chapter was ended but the devastation had just begun.
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