Grievous Sin (27 page)

“Wait a minute, Cindy.” Marge pulled out her notebook and began to scribble furiously. “She got pregnant again?”

“Yeah. This time when she was eighteen. She was still living in New York.” Cindy’s eyes lit up. “You didn’t know that one, did you?”

“No.”

“See. I found something—”

“Just cool the pats on the back for the time being, okay? Did she lose that baby, too?”

“Yes, but earlier than the first one. In the fourth month, I think.”

“Did it send her into a depression or anything?”

“Well, it made an impact on her. And on her professional life. Because the second time around, she refused to starve herself. She felt the starvation was the reason she lost the first baby. She said people told her over and over it was her fault she lost the first baby.”

“Which people?”

Cindy shrugged. “She just said people. Probably her mom. So the second time she got pregnant, she ate. And ate and ate and ate and ate. It was the first time in years that she could eat normally. When she lost the second baby, she had put on fifty pounds. But she didn’t care. By that time, she was so disgusted with the business and her mother for pushing her, she left New York and came out here.”

“She’s originally from New York?”

“No, from Berkeley. Her parents were divorced when she was a kid. Her mother took her to Manhattan to model shortly after her parents split. She used to live with her father during the summers, but when she got real busy with her career, she stopped visiting him. She said she was glad. She
hates
both her parents, I can tell you that much.”

“Sounds like a lovely girl.”

“She’s had it rough, I guess. A bitch stage mom—real pushy—and a philandering father. We talked about divorce for a while. How hard it can be on the kids.”

Cindy started biting her nails.

“It’s hard under the best of circumstances. My parents really tried to shield me, but their hostility toward one another was palpable whenever my dad picked me up for weekends. It got easier after my mom remarried; they became a little more civil. But I don’t think there’s ever going to be any love lost between them. It hurts….” She shrugged. “But you move on. You get past it. You realize that your parents can make mistakes and still be good people. I don’t think Tandy ever got past that. She still talks about her parents’ divorce as if it happened last year instead of years ago.”

“Did she talk about her parents’ faults specifically?”

“Yes. She kept repeating that her mother was a stage-mom bitch and her father was a pathetic Lothario who couldn’t keep his pants zipped. She was happy to stop seeing him in the summers because he was getting real desperate as he aged—the students getting younger and him getting older.”

“He was a college professor?”

“Yep. English literature, I think. Geoffrey Roberts. Geoffrey with a
G.
Tandy said even the spelling of his name was affected. He didn’t have a drop of English blood in him. He was Hispanic. His parents were refugees from Cuba. That’s why Tandy’s so dark. Her mom’s the prototypical WASP, and her dad was a WASP wannabe. So he changed his surname to Roberts and got educated. Must have been a smart fellow. From what Tandy said, he just really got carried away with this professor/student thing.”

Cindy noticed she was biting her nails and folded them in her lap.

“There are a couple of those at Columbia. We snicker at them behind their backs. I know it isn’t nice, but it’s such a cliché, Marge. It must be really
embarrassing
to see your father making a fool out of himself. At least my dad was always a
dad.
Even after he got divorced, he didn’t go through
that juvenile stage. You know, picking up younger women and flirting with your friends. At least if he did, I never saw it. Dad’s always been a good guy. And my mom is a good woman, too.”

Cindy laughed.

“But God, they were just
terrible
together.”

Marge patted Cindy’s hand. “You’re a good kid. I’m sorry if I came down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry if I screwed up your investigation.”

“You didn’t screw anything up, Cindy. You almost did, but you didn’t.”

“I won’t butt in again, I promise. To tell you the truth, Tandy gives me the willies. There’s something off about her. Between her parents’ divorce and the babies she lost, I think it affected her brain. She kept talking about how bad she was and how good she is now that she works out. I think it’s the only thing that keeps her sane. She said it brought meaning back into her life, gave her control over her eating and over all the bad thoughts.”

“Bad thoughts?” Marge repeated.

“Her words verbatim.” Cindy stopped talking for a moment. “You know, as strange as this may be, I can kind of understand the way she feels just from today. In some perverse way, challenging your body like that really makes you feel superhuman. Right now, I’m sore as hell, but while I was doing it, Tandy and Eric rooting me on, I felt really special. Like I was Amazon Woman. It does give you a sense of control, although it’s all illusion.”

Cindy smiled sadly.

“Then again, I suppose we all have our little illusions to help us get through life. Can I go now?”

Marge patted the teenager’s back. “You can go now.”

By the time
Decker finished lunch, Rina was happily cuddling Hannah. Her spirits were high, and together they had decided to cut short the baby nurse’s stay, agreeing that Nora should work over the weekend and help get the kids off to school the following Monday. By then, Rina insisted she’d be able to handle Hannah but would allow her mother to drop by daily to make sure she wasn’t overworked. Curtailing Nora’s stay made Rina much more willing to rest now—while she still had a chance.

It was half past the noon hour when Decker called the station house. Mike Hollander brought him up-to-date. Sondra Roberts owned a Visa and a MasterCard, her latest debits including a twenty-five-dollar accessory purchase at a discount dress store and ten bucks’ worth of gasoline at a station in North Hollywood. The gas was bought at 2:52
P.M.
yesterday. Her last gas purchase before that one was a week ago—again a ten-dollar charge at a place in Tujunga.

“Ten bucks’ worth of gas is enough to douse a car,” Decker said to Hollander.

“I guess. I’m just thinking if she was smart enough to torch a car, she probably paid cash for the gas—wouldn’t leave a paper trail.”

“True, but call around anyway. See if anyone remembers filling her tank. According to Marge, Tandy’s a stunning-
looking girl.” Decker gave Mike a description. “Talk to the young guys. See if you can’t jog someone’s memory.”

“I’ll give it a whirl. You know, Rabbi, it could be she siphoned off gas from her
own
car’s tank, and that’s why she had to have a refill yesterday.”

Decker pondered his words. “Man, that would require a pretty cool head.”

“We’ve got a murder and a kidnapping with no leads,” Hollander said. “We’re working with a cool-headed person. I got a spare afternoon. Nothing pressing other than forms to fill out. Want me to watch her?”

“Marge is tailing her now, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a break.”

“I’ll give her a call—”

“Wait a minute, she’s not using one of our cars.” Decker gave him the cellular phone number “She traded cars with her latest social interest.”

“What’s she driving?”

“A Beemer. Don’t say anything important over the phone. Cellular transmission isn’t limited access like our tactical lines. Did Lily Booker’s dental X rays come in yet?”

“Nope. Want me to call her parents again?”

“No, they’ll cooperate, sooner or later. It’s the denial. Let’s give them another day.”

“Ain’t it the shits being a parent?” Hollander paused. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Decker said. “It’s tough.”

“Where are you off to, Rabbi?”

“To visit Lita Bellson. I’m not even sure what I expect to accomplish. At the present time, Marie’s our only link to the missing baby. For all I know, they both might be dead.”

“And this Roberts lady?”

“She’s a link to Marie,” Decker said. “Speaking of links to Marie, did you get hold of Paula Delfern?”

“Yep. She hasn’t heard from Marie, either. She gave me her work number and told me to call her as soon as I had any information. I checked out the number, and it was her work
number—some doctor’s office. The night of the kidnapping, she was moonlighting at St. Joe’s just like she said. Her nursing license seems kosher, her yellow sheet’s clean. But if she’s a link, I can keep on her.”

“You mean a tail? No, I don’t have any reason to justify that yet. Just check in on her from time to time. Tandy’s the one with some hanky-panky in her life. I’ve got to find out about this license thing. And what—if
anything
—it has to do with Marie.”

“You’re investigating Tandy just because she was a friend of Marie’s?”

“Initially, yes. But she’s turned out to be a nutcase. I don’t have anything specific on her, but she’s worth watching at this point.” Decker ran his hand through his hair. “How’s the search going? How much manpower’s still out there?”

“About fifty percent of what we had. But that’s still a lot of feet.”

“But for how long?”

“You know the situation, Rabbi.”

And Decker did. He swore to himself. The case was taking on a chill. “I’ve got another call on the line, Mike. I’ll check in later.”

“Maybe I’ll have better news,” Hollander said.

“At this point, I’ll just take news.” Decker depressed the line to liberate his second call. Marge’s voice came over the wire.

“Got a callback from the Board of Nurses’ Examiners, Pete. About Tandy’s license: It’s not Tandy’s. The number she’s using actually belongs to one Lawrence McKay—aka
Leek
, the scamster of Golden Valley Home.”

“Tandy’s using
Leek
’s license number?”

“Appears that way.”

“How can she do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t these agencies cross-check for things like that?”

“I’m sure they’re supposed to, but you know bureaucracy.”

“Does Leek know she’s using his number?”

“Beats me.”

“What’s Leek using for his license?”

“Someone should ask him these very questions, Pete. Since I’m stuck here at the parking lot at Silver’s, keeping watch over a black Audi, I suggest you take a trip to Golden Valley Home real soon.”

“I’m leaving right now. I spoke to Hollander. One of his cases was postponed. He said he could relieve you for a couple of hours. How about we meet at my house at about”—he looked at his watch—“how does two, two-thirty sound?”

“What’s wrong with the station house?”

“I’d like to check in on Rina…and the baby.”

“Proud papa, huh?”

“More like neurotic papa.”

Marge had described Golden Valley as a step up from the usual retirement home, and Decker agreed with her assessment. It was bright and clean, and the staff seemed professional. But all that could be facade. Lawrence McKay worked there, and McKay was a man with something to hide. His yellow sheet had come up empty, but that didn’t mean the man was clean. All criminals have blank records until they get caught.

McKay was still out on lunch break when Decker arrived. He was due back in fifteen minutes, so Decker decided to make use of the time and have a talk with Lita Bellson. He didn’t expect a breakthrough, but anything was worth a try.

Lita was in the solarium, sun shaded by tinted windows. The back of her wheelchair was tilted downward, and her foot rest was raised. Her head was to the side, and she appeared to be asleep. As Decker moved closer, he saw her eyes were closed and her mouth was emitting soft snores. He pulled up a chair beside her, and a moment later a young black nurse named Tonya came by to offer him coffee. He accepted, and when she returned with a steaming cup, the aroma aroused Sleeping Beauty.

“Coffee?” Lita muttered. “Did somebody make coffee?”
Her eyes snapped open to reveal startling green eyes flecked with brown. She stared at Decker. “Who are you? More important, where’d you get the coffee?”

“I’m Detective Sergeant Decker, and a nurse brought me the coffee.”

“Can I have it?”

Nurse Tonya clucked her tongue. “Lita, you know you can’t have coffee.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because, Lita, the caffeine’s bad for your heart, and the acid upsets your stomach.”

“Girlie, my stomach is just fine, no thanks to you.”

“Lita, now don’t you start getting nasty—”

Decker said, “Why don’t you just take this away? It seems to be creating a problem.”

“What doesn’t cause a problem with this one?” Tonya took the coffee cup and left.

“Bitch,” Lita muttered, watching the young nurse go. “I don’t suppose you’d sneak me a cup.”

“I follow orders, Lita.”

“So I order you to get me a cup.” She wheezed a spasm of laughter. “Who did you say you were?”

“Sergeant Decker of the Los Angeles Police. My partner, Detective Dunn, came out yesterday to talk to you. She asked you questions about Marie.”

Lita looked blank.

“Detective Dunn’s a tall blond woman with brown eyes. She asked you all about Marie, her history, her friends….”

Lita waited a moment, then said, “I haven’t seen Marie for a while. Where is she?”

Decker paused. He was sure Marge had informed Lita of her daughter’s disappearance. “I don’t know. She seems to have…gone somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Lita, do you remember talking to Detective Dunn at all?”

“Sorta.”

“What do you remember?”

She didn’t answer, and Decker didn’t push it. Start from scratch—taking into consideration that the woman might have Alzheimers. It made all her answers suspect. “Any idea where Marie might have gone, Lita?”

“Nope.”

“Did Marie have a favorite place to go to think when she needed some time alone?”

“Marie lived alone. Check her condo.”

“We did. She isn’t there.”

Lita frowned. “Doesn’t make sense that she’d just up and disappear. Marie turned out to be the stable, dependable one. Just like my first husband, Henry, except Marie wasn’t his. Funny how things like that work out. Marie became a nurse. Said Jesus told her to become a nurse.”

“Did Marie often talk to Jesus?”

“You mean was she crazy? The answer is no. But she was always a little fanatical in her beliefs.”

The old woman was silent for a moment.

“First it was drugs was God. Then it was gurus was God. She wound up with Jesus. Better him than a cow. So you can’t find Marie, huh?”

The old lady didn’t seem concerned. Decker asked, “Has she ever done this before. Just disappeared?”

“Not that I can remember.” Lita burped. “But I don’t remember so good anymore. Least that’s what they tell me.”

“Lita, could Marie have gone camping?”

“Camping?”

“You know…go out to the woods, pitch a tent…sleep in the wilds?”

“Are we talking about the same Marie?” Lita scratched her nose. “Nah, I’ve never known her to camp.” The old woman furrowed her brows. She looked like a wizened gnome. “It has been a while since she’s visited me. ’Course, all the days seem to run together when you’re stuck under one roof. What’s she up to?”

“Marie?”

“Yeah, Marie. What kind of trouble did she get herself into?”

“What makes you think she’s in trouble?”

“She used to come to me when she was in trouble. Used to do that all the time when she was a teenager. ‘Ma, I’m in trouble. Give me money.’ Long as she was okay, she didn’t want anything from me. ’Course, I was a shitty mother. I didn’t want much to do with her, either. Two stubborn bodies under one roof. It wasn’t good. Neither one of us would give in.”

Talking about the past, the old woman seemed on surer footing.

“I remember once Marie wanted a dog. I said no, but that didn’t stop her. Marie got herself a dog. Took care of her, too. I was surprised. But that was Marie. Fanatically loyal, and loyal to the point of fanatical.”

“To people?”

“People, ideas. She believed in free love to the point of fanatical. It was the times—late sixties and early seventies. The sexual revolution. Kids were wild, especially up north—land of the flower child. People living on the street in Haight-Ashbury, screwing everything in sight.” Lita shook her head. “Miserable time to be a mother.”

There was regret in Lita’s voice. Not at having to rear a child during turbulent times, but because she hadn’t been young herself back then. Decker asked, “Did Marie ever get pregnant?”

Lita burst into laughter. “More times than a rabbit.”

“What happened to the babies?”

“She didn’t have babies, she had abortions.”

“She never carried any of her pregnancies to term?”

“Not so far as I know. When she was away at the university, I don’t know what she did. My daughter just couldn’t keep her legs together.” Lita laughed. “Wonder where she learned that from.”

Decker didn’t touch that one.

Lita said, “She did it to spite me. You know, give me a
taste of my own medicine. She wasted her time. I don’t regret my life. Got some nice memories. In fact, that’s all I got right now.”

“She lived with you when she was in her early teens, didn’t she, Lita?”

“Yep.”

“And she didn’t have a child when she was around fifteen?”

Lita stared at him. “Of course not. I’d have known about it if she did.” She paused, her eyes far away. “Might have been nice to have a grandchild…someone else to visit me.”

“She didn’t have a baby and give it away for adoption?”

“Why’re you asking me these silly questions? As long as Marie lived with me, she didn’t have a baby. Just abortions. Must have had three before she left for Berkeley. I don’t know what was so hard that she couldn’t get the pill right. I suppose Jesus did what the pill couldn’t do. Gave her self-respect. Other gods couldn’t do that. She went through lots of gods—blue gods, hermaphrodite gods, gods with eight arms, fat gods. She finally settled on Jesus. Probably ’cause he was wiry and cute.”

Decker forced himself to remain impassive.

Lita shrugged. “I mean that. Look at all the cute boys in the sixties. All of them thin, wearing raggedy clothes and beards. All of them wanted to be Jesus—from Jim Morrison down to Charlie Manson. That’s kids for you.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head the other way. “You got some Milk Duds or anything like that?”

“Sorry, no.”

“I’m tired. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll talk some more.” A small bony hand touched Decker’s arm. “Do me a favor, handsome. When you come back, bring me a four-pack of butterscotch pudding?”

“You bet, Lita.”

“You’re a peach.” Lita turned her head and dozed off to another lifetime.

Decker waited a few moments before leaving. Though Lita’s memory wasn’t on the firmest ground, she sounded convincing when she talked about her daughter’s past. Decker believed that if Marie, while living with her mother, had had a baby, Lita would have known about it. Unless either she or Tandy were lying about their ages, Marie couldn’t be Tandy’s biological mother.

So just why was Marie so strongly attached to Tandy? So much so that Darlene Jamison said Marie treated Tandy like her own kid. Lita’s words ran in his ears.

Fanatically loyal.

Maybe Marie had made up her mind to mother Tandy. Then Tandy rejected her, and she cracked.