Knot in My Backyard (A Quilting Mystery) (20 page)

It took all my self-control not to slug her. “What you did here today—destroying this place and driving those poor people away—was criminal. I’m going to make it my business to see you pay for this.”

Price was surprisingly unruffled. She pointed to my pink rubber shoes, her voice eerily calm. “I remember you from the park the other day. I know who you are, Martha Rose.”

“So you know my name. So what?”

She stood straight and smiled slightly. “I also know where you live.” Something in her eyes blew a chill through my body.

Price turned her malicious gaze toward Hilda. Then, without another word, she climbed in her jeep and drove off. Hilda grabbed my upper arm and swung me around; her eyes were wide with fear. “Did you hear that? She threatened you!”

I still shook a little. “It didn’t escape my notice.”

Hilda wrung her hands. “Neither one of us is safe. I know how to disappear, but you have to hide, Martha. She’s coming after you.”

Four months before, I’d been in a similar situation and hid out at my friend Lucy’s house for a few days. I didn’t want to make a habit of pissing people off and then running away to Lucy’s for protection. I’d have to figure out a way to handle this situation differently.

“Hilda, I’m worried about you. Come back to my house.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Are you nuts? She knows where you live. Your house is the last place I want to stay.”

“Well, at least come back with me until we can figure out a safer place for you. Your community is scattered. You’re too vulnerable to be outside on your own.”

“Everyone’s vulnerable. Now they need my help more than ever. Don’t worry about me, Wonder Woman. I have a superpower of my own. I know how to become invisible.”

I suddenly felt bereft at the thought of losing touch with Hilda. “How will I find you again?”

“I’ve still got your phone number. I’ll keep in touch.” Then she teased, “And I know where you live.” Neither one of us laughed.

I dropped Hilda back at Rafi’s place and drove home. Something hung from the handle of my front door. A scrap of the green-and-white Windmill quilt was tied to the doorknob. A message. Lawanda Price wasn’t kidding. She really did know where I lived.

Okay, now I was officially scared.

CHAPTER 30

The fragment of quilt had been cut with a knife. As soon as I got inside the house, I set the alarm and threw the dead bolt.

I instinctively wanted to call the police, but if I asked for police protection, I’d have to tell Beavers the rest of what I knew. I wasn’t ready to do that just yet. First, I needed to find out how close Aiken was to getting political asylum for Javier and Graciela. Once our witnesses were secure, they could emerge from hiding and clear Ed. Then I could tell Beavers every rotten detail I suspected about Beaumont and the Army Corps of Engineers.

The clock read one in the afternoon, and I was starving. Fear made me hungry. Anxiety made me hungry. So did sadness, anger, boredom, excitement, and happiness. I pulled two sweet corn and cheese tamales from the freezer and stuck them in the microwave for five minutes.

The light blinked on my phone, alerting me to new voice mail. My daughter, Quincy, left the first message. “Hi, Mom. I may be getting a new job as the West Coast reporter for NPR. I might even be based in Los Angeles. How cool would that be? Call me back.”

Quincy lived and worked in Boston. I missed my only daughter and worried about her being so far away. This message was the first really happy news since the day I discovered Dax Martin’s body. I tried returning her call, but only got her voice mail. “Hey, honey. Sorry I missed you. This is great news. You know I’m thrilled at the thought of your living in LA again. Call me when you can talk. Love you.”

Pastor Sandoval left the second message. “Hello, Mrs. Rose. I don’t know if you heard what happened in the Sepulveda Basin this morning, but I’ve got a big crisis on my hands. My church is filled with homeless refugees who’re destitute and scared. The couple we talked about is convinced what happened was a warning to them. They plan to drive north tonight. I won’t stop them, but I did persuade them to talk to you before they leave. Please call me at this number.”

No! If Javier and Graciela leave town, there’ll be no one to give Ed an alibi. No one to identify the real killer. The DA will arrest Ed and charge him with murder.

Sandoval answered on the second ring. A din of upset voices filled the background. He must be in the storefront with many of the displaced people. I pictured Christ in the mural stretching his arms out over the crowd. “Pastor Sandoval, I’m sick about what happened this morning. I just came back from surveying the damage.”

“The people we talked about, they’re leaving after dark. If you show up here at nine tonight, I’ll arrange for them to speak to you just before they go. You must come alone. I’ll be here to translate and ensure their safety.”

“What if we can get them political asylum and put them in protective custody? I have an attorney working on safe haven right now.”

“Mrs. Rose, the United States government destroyed their homes this morning. Do you think the same government will protect them?”

How could I argue? Powerful people were connected to the Beaumont School, and the school was in bed with the army. They might even be in bed with the US Attorney’s Office. Maybe Sandoval was right. Maybe the witnesses wouldn’t be safe in protective custody in Los Angeles. Maybe they would be better off escaping north.

“You may be right, Mr. Sandoval. I appreciate your help. I’ll meet you at your church at nine.”

Next I called Ed Pappas. Five minutes later, Ed showed up at my door, with a brown leather computer bag slung over his shoulder. Light brown hair hung in his eyes and deep concern creased his features. He placed the bag on my coffee table, reached in, and pulled out his laptop and a gun.

“I’ve called Crusher. He’s arranging for one of us to be with you twenty-four/seven. I’ll be here until he closes the shop. Then he’s coming over. This gun goes wherever you go. What happened?”

I told him about visiting the Sepulveda Basin in the morning with Hilda after Valley Allstar Construction destroyed the area and drove out all the people living there. I filled him in on the conversation I overheard between Lawanda Price and her boss, Barbara Hardisty, a few days ago. Then I told him about the confrontation with Price and her threat of “I know where you live.” I showed him the piece of mutilated quilt I found tied to my front door.

He clenched his fists. “I wish I’d never let you get involved in this.”

I removed the tamales from the microwave and put them on a plate. They’d gone from frozen to hot and back to cold again. Ed refused the offer of food. “I’ve eaten. You go ahead.”

I handed Ed my cell phone, picked up a fork, and tucked into the first tamale. “Ed, can you show me how to take photos and use this as a tape recorder?”

He laughed. “I assume you’re not heavy into communication devices.”

“Ummff,” I answered, nodding with a mouthful of food.

He walked me through the remarkably easy steps and I took his photo. “Now I can look at your handsome face whenever I want,” I teased.

We sat in the living room for the next couple of hours; Ed worked on his laptop while I picked up the Dresden Plate quilt and resumed quilting.

Tires squealed outside and I looked up. Two squad cars stopped in front of Ed’s house; an unmarked car blocked the street. Detective Kaplan, Beavers’s younger partner, got out with his gun drawn.

“Crap! Ed, go hide in my bedroom. The cops are at your house.”

He got up and walked toward the window to look. “What the—”

“Stop! They’ll see you through the window. Go quickly.” I pointed down the hall. “My bedroom’s in the back of the house. They won’t be able to see you back there. Close the drapes.”

I sat in the chair and watched. When the police determined Ed wasn’t home, they got back in their cars. Kaplan looked around, spotted my house, and swaggered toward my door. He knew where I lived, all right. Four months ago, he’d arrested me right on this very spot. I had no choice but to open the door when he knocked, but I didn’t let him come in.

“What do you want now?” I demanded.

“Pappas. He’s not at home. Do you know where he is?”

“Yes. He’s in a cheap motel making love to your mother.”

Kaplan’s dark eyes snapped. He looked past me into my living room and caught sight of Ed’s gun on my coffee table.

He pointed his finger accusingly. “Whose gun is that?”

“Mine. For protection.”

“I think you’re hiding Pappas. I’m coming in.” He took a step forward.

I held out my arm. “Not without probable cause, you’re not. Get a warrant, Kaplan. Better yet, get a clue.” I slammed the door in his face.

I quickly called Beavers. “Arlo, your smarmy little partner, Kaplan, was just at my front door, and he wanted to search my house without a warrant. He had some crazy idea Ed Pappas is here.” I looked up. Ed stepped out of my bedroom into the hallway. I put my finger to my lips.

“Why would he think that?”

I cleared my throat. “He may have seen a gun on my coffee table.”

Silence.
Beavers was probably remembering the time four months ago when I borrowed a gun from Lucy to protect myself against a killer. Finally he said, “
Again?
You think someone’s after you again?”

“Did you hear about what happened in the wildlife reserve this morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember what I said about someone in the engineer corps not wanting the police to find the witnesses to Dax Martin’s murder?”

“Yeah, but destroying the wildlife reserve seems like an extreme measure to make a couple of witnesses disappear. So, who’s after you this time?” There was a certain mocking tone in his voice.

“Lawanda Price threatened me this morning.”

“How did she threaten you?”

“She said, ‘I know where you live.’”

“That’s it?” He clearly wasn’t convinced I was in trouble.

“Then she tied a cloth to my front door.”

“A cloth? Sounds downright menacing.”

I ignored the sarcasm. “Listen, I know stuff about her and her boss, Barbara Hardisty—criminal stuff that may be connected to Dax Martin’s murder. I’ll be happy to tell you everything after I tie up a few loose ends this afternoon, but you have to get Kaplan off my back.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I’ve been right before. Just give me twenty-four hours.”

“Kaplan seems to have a special animosity toward you. Do you know what that’s all about?”

“No idea. I’ve always been nice to him.”

Beavers grunted. “If you really are in danger, go to your friend’s house. Don’t rely on a gun.”

“I’ve got bodyguards.”

His voice lowered a notch. “Levy.”

“Let’s not go there, Arlo. Let’s wait to have that conversation when we both have the time.”

“You mean when we both have the
bandwidth
?” He threw my expression back at me from our conversation yesterday.

“Arlo, Kaplan was going to arrest Ed.”

“Correct. The DA’s ready to prosecute Ed Pappas for the murder of Dax Martin.”

“Why? The evidence is circumstantial.”

“There’s pressure from the US Attorney’s Office to wrap up the investigation.”

“And you buy that?”

“Not necessarily. Mostly because of what you just told me, but if you know where Ed Pappas is, you should have him surrender with his attorney.” Beavers never asked me if Ed was actually at my house or if I knew where he was. He knew me too well. Beavers trusted me to do the right thing. It was a sign he might be thawing—too bad it was too late.

I hung up the phone.

“Is it safe to come out?”

“Let me close the drapes in the living room first.”

We sat at the kitchen table, drinking wine. I told Ed about my conversation with Beavers. “The good news is he no longer believes you’re a suspect, but he says you need to call your attorney and surrender yourself voluntarily. Arlo Beavers is a smart detective. He’ll get to the truth, especially if we give him all we know.”

Ed rubbed his forehead. “We should ask Simon, especially since I’m about to be arrested.”

Ed called Simon Aiken and told him about the cops coming to arrest him. Then he handed the phone to me. “Simon wants to talk to you.”

“Hey, Martha. You don’t want to be arrested for harboring a fugitive. I’ll be there at five-thirty to pick up Ed and surrender him to the police. Dana just called to alert the DA, so the cops shouldn’t be bothering you again, even though they have a warrant. If they do show up, just let Ed go quietly. Make sure they see you recording the arrest on your cell phone. That should keep things peaceful.” Aiken referred to the LAPD’s reputation for shooting suspects at the slightest provocation.

“Okay. Simon, did you hear what happened at the wildlife reserve this morning?”

“No.”

I filled him in on the devastation of the area by Valley Allstar Construction, the confrontation with Lawanda Price, and her threat. “Simon, I’m not sure working with the Feds to get refugee status for Javier and Graciela is the safest thing to do right now. The Army Corps of Engineers took extreme measures to get rid of and intimidate any possible witnesses today when they destroyed the homeless community. Detective Beavers confirmed the DA is being pressured by the US Attorney’s Office to prosecute Ed and wrap up the investigation.”

Aiken swore. “You’re right. Since the US Attorney’s Office is working to protect the engineer corps, we can’t let them get their hands on those witnesses.”

I told him about Pastor Sandoval’s call. “I’ve got a brief opportunity to speak to Javier and Graciela tonight before they leave Los Angeles. I’m going to show them Ed’s picture and then I’m going to record what they say. That’s probably as much as we’ll ever get from them.”

“It won’t be good enough in court.”

“Trust me. It’ll be good enough for Arlo Beavers.”

CHAPTER 31

Simon Aiken and Crusher converged on my house at the same time later in the afternoon. Aiken wore a navy blue suit; his engagement diamond sparkled in his ear. “Martha, you’re going to interview the witnesses tonight at nine?”