Sticks & Stones (A Hollis Morgan Mystery) (11 page)

“Yeah, uh, there’s one thing I have to tell you
,” Hollis said sheepishly. “My condo was broken into and searched.”

“What? When?” He looked around the room as if the burglary was taking place right then.

Hollis explained about the break-in and the police response.

“The thing is
, I didn’t have anything of real value in the condo. I had all Cathy’s papers with me.”

Mark shook his head. “This is getting out of hand. Cathy was murdered and whoever did it might not hesitate
to kill again. Maybe we should let the police take over, or just let the whole thing drop.”

“No way
,” she said. “Cathy died for her story. She touched a nerve, obviously a big one. We can’t let Fields scare us away.”

“He may not stop at trying to scare us. Hollis, you did tell the police about a possible connection between your burglary and Cathy, didn’t you?”

Hollis couldn’t look him in the eye. “Yes and no. No, I haven’t yet and yes, I’m going to.” She held up her hand to forestall his objections. “Honestly, Mark, I just thought of it myself. Besides, John Faber showed up. He’s aware of both cases. I’m sure he’s zeroed in on the possible connection.”

“This whole matter is taking on a new angle,” he said. “Let me know what the police say.”

“Wait, I just thought of something.” She stood and started to pace back and forth. “Fields is not going to really come after us, I mean
directly
, because he’d be an obvious suspect. He won’t want anyone else peering into his affairs. If anything, we’re going to be protected.”

Mark gave a small laugh. “Who said every cloud doesn’t have a silver lining
?”

Hollis pulled out her cellphone to check for messages. She was pleased to see Gail Baylor had not called to cancel. Their meeting was still a go. She found the phone number for a Gail Baylor written in the corner of one of Cathy’s pages of notes. It didn’t take her long to track her down. It had been Triple D’s receptionist, Tiffany, who gave her the idea that Cathy had to have someone at
Transformation
who helped her with the administrative side of her research. She had to have an assistant if only to handle logistics. Finally, after some minor poking around, she discovered that Baylor had been Cathy’s assistant. Hollis frowned; it bothered her that Devi neglected to offer that piece of information, but it probably didn’t occur to him to consider the clerical support.

On the phone Gail Baylor seemed nervous but affable and more than willing to talk about her last assignment. They agreed to meet in the lobby of the Oakland Library that afternoon; it was public and private at the same time.

Two minutes after their agreed time, Hollis looked around the lobby and spotted an older woman who was clearly waiting for someone. She was stocky, with graying blond hair styled in a chin length pageboy and black rimmed glasses perched on an overlarge nose. Her gray eyes finally landed on Hollis and she walked tentatively toward her. Hollis met her halfway.

“Gail Baylor? Hollis Morgan.” She said, holding out her hand.

The woman shook her hand and flashed a smile that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. She nodded. Hollis pointed to two overstuffed upholstered chairs in an alcove away from the door.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I’m always losing track of time. Sometimes it gets me in a world of trouble. I hope I’m not making you late for your next meeting.”

“No, no, not at all, please … Gail, you don’t have to apologize. I just appreciate your meeting with me.” Hollis smiled. “Had you known Cathy long?”

She sat primly with her hands in her lap. “From her very first day at
Transformation
, Mr. Devi assigned me to her. I get all the new ones.” Gail leaned forward. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. You’re going to think I’m being negative about the magazine. My supervisor wrote me up about that on my last evaluation. I should keep my mouth shut.”

Hollis touched her lightly on the hand
. “No, no, I don’t think anything of the sort. I need your help. Please, tell me about your work with Cathy.”

“Cathy was easy to work with. She treated me like an equal.” Gail tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “She would let me edit her pages and even do some background research. Don’t think I’m talking bad about the others, I’m not. Cathy just had a lot of work
, and she felt I could help her.”

“Did she explain what she was looking for? When was the last time she discussed her work with you?”

Gail’s eyes grew large. “I didn’t mean to mislead you. I assure you that the work was all hers. I was responsible for transcription. That’s all. Talking too much is what gets me in trouble.”

Her hands started to shake.

“Gail, it’s okay. I’ve worked with Cathy, too. She loved to share ideas about a case.” Hollis kept her voice low and calming. “She would talk out loud about what approach she planned on taking.”

Baylor
heaved an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, I see. Yes, yes, she would talk with me. That’s how she made me feel special. We were a team. Management thought I could only do clerical work, but Cathy let me do research. I can be really obsessive; you know, making copies of copies. I would offer suggestions. But I don’t want you to think she didn’t write ev—”

“Gail, trust me
, I understand.” Hollis couldn’t stop herself from interrupting. “What kind of research?”

Gail’s head bobbed in a fast nod. “Okay, yes
, of course. I’m sorry I get so distracted and I then I lose my train of thought. Once ….” she stopped when she saw Hollis’ expression. “Sorry. I collected all the annual reports and then she had me pull what tax records I could locate. There weren’t many, but she seemed pleased.”

“How did she verify her facts? Where did she keep her fact finding?”

“I scanned everything and put it on a computer memory stick.”

“Where is it now? There was nothing with her things.” Hollis felt guilty hearing the impatience in her
own voice and the increasing contriteness in Gail’s.

“I guess the police have it. It had to have been with Cathy’s things.” Gail bit her bottom lip. “I want to say that Cathy was one of the most ethical people I knew. If she thought that Fields was crooked then she knew what she was talking about.”

Hollis struggled to phrase her next question. “I can see why Cathy wanted to work with you.” Hollis spoke slowly. “Do you know if Cathy got any threats, anyone who hassled her?”

This time Gail didn’t have a quick response. She looked pensive and turned to
gaze out the library’s glass doors.

“We were finalizing the Fields story. Cathy was happy it was completed and into legal for review. She was out of the office and I was clearing her desk when a call was put through.” She squinted with remembrance. “I wasn’t being nosy. It was just an accident I was even th
—sorry—it was a man who wouldn’t leave his name but did want me to take a message for her.”

Hollis tilted her head. “What did he say?”

“Back off.”

H
ollis lifted the Post-it off her computer screen. She had worked a full day yesterday, so the message must have been left late last night.

Let’s meet at 3:30, after you’ve finished reading the letters.

—
George.

Hollis crushed the note and threw it into the trash can.

Grabbing her mug and a tea bag, she went into the lunch room for boiling water. On her way back she stopped to refill the water cooler
, and when she could think of no further reason to delay, she returned to her desk.

She took out the box. Only three letters were left and two were stamped “Return to Sender.”

Hollis opened the earliest “return to sender” letter. It was written in 1955.

Lisbeth,

I’m glad you’ve befriended Eric
. From what I’ve heard, he needs a friend. I dislike putting this in a letter, but you refuse to take my calls. Even though we are cousins, I could also use a friend.

Lisbeth, I did not kill Charles.

Despite what Eric may have told you, he killed Charles. There, it’s out. I saw him that night standing on the ridge after he had left Charles’ body in the ravine. I think he knew I saw him but we silently agreed never to talk about it. Even when the police came and took him away, and he professed his innocence, I never said a word.

I may not have kept in touch with you over the months, but you didn’t reach out to me
, either. I could have used a family member’s shoulder, or a friend’s hug to carry me through those dark days. I couldn’t face Eric after he went to prison; I knew my disappointment and regret would show in my face. I didn’t want to see him. Your judgment of me reached across the miles. Yes, I turned to Michael Koch; he gave me kindness when no one else would. He accepted me for all my faults and pettiness. He saw the good in me, dear cousin, even when I couldn’t find it in myself.

We are moving to California in a few weeks. Michael wants to join his brother in a new business venture. It would be so good to see you before I left. I could come to Rowan, or even Chicago, and we could have lunch or dinner. I am not sure when we will have the chance again. I don’t think I will be back.

We used to be close. I would like us to be close again. You were always like a sister to me. We are the only family we have left. I look forward to hearing from you.

From the heart,

Margaret

Lisbeth never opened the letter so she never knew Margaret’s side of the story. Hollis frowned. Lisbeth had passed judgment on her cousin, as had she. Hollis felt chagrined; she didn’t like finding that out about herself. After all, she had been falsely accused only a few years ago.

Still
, Margaret had held on to Lisbeth’s returned letter of rebuff. Curious ….

She picked up Pierson’s report and turned to the biographical page, which indicated that Margaret had died of natural causes at eighty-eight.

The next letter
, dated 1954, had been opened and stamped in the upper left corner with a government seal.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Koch,

I want to thank you for your generous donation to Congressman Guber’s re-election campaign. The Congressman is always glad to serve constituents who are as enthusiastic as he is about this wonderful country. Also, thank you for offering to sponsor a fundraiser in your lovely home.

Congressman Guber received your note of gratitude. He wanted to let you know that if he was somehow helpful in obtaining the release of Eric Ferris, then he was glad to assist. He knew once the governor was aware of Mr. Ferris’ circumstances, he would agree that a commutation was appropriate.

We look forward to seeing you in October. If we may be of further assistance, please do not hesitate to contact us.

Sincerely,

Kevin Werthy

Congressional Aide, 10
th
District

Hollis read the letter three times. Margaret had used her resources to get Eric out of prison. She wondered how her husband felt about that. Or maybe it was the price he paid to have the beautiful Margaret on his arm.

Picking up the last letter
, dated 1957, a feeling of finality came over her. It had been stamped RETURNED. She opened it with resignation.

Dear Eric,

I don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am because there are no words. I wasn’t the woman for you. I wasn’t the woman for anyone. I couldn’t bear seeing you in prison. I wanted to remember you the way you were before Charles died. I did you a favor getting the divorce.

I understand you were able to get a release. Hopefully, you went back to living a good life. Hopefully you didn’t let our relationship keep you from finding true happiness. Now it’s water under the bridge. The events that pushed us apart carried us away in a current of consequences that we never sought or deserved.

I know you’re wondering why after all this time I’ve gotten in touch with you. I’ve lived a full life,
and although I never had any children, I have found peace. But I can’t find complete peace until I express my guilt and sorrow at the way things turned out between us. I’m not sure if this letter will ever find you, but I had to write the words.

I am so sorry Eric, for causing you any pain.

I understand you went back to Rowan and then moved to California. I hope you found peace as well.

Respectfully
,

Margaret

Hollis took a sip of tea. She gently put the page back into its envelope. Well, George would be glad to hear that their client didn’t have any children. Margaret had written to Eric, but his heavy “return to sender” scrawl
—and she had no doubt it was his—across the front of the envelope indicated he had had no interest in reading what she had to say. Margaret knew that Eric Ferris had returned to Rowan but chose to settle in California.

Near Margaret?

She had come to the end of Margaret’s story. There were no more letters. She wrapped the bundle together with the silver ribbon and headed down the hall.

In his office, George was deep in a volume of appellate cases.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said, putting the book down. “Why the glum look? You look like you lost your first case.”

Hollis shrugged and sat. “I’m finished with the letters.”

“Well?”

“It looks like there are no heirs. Margaret only had one cousin and she passed away many years before Margaret. She was her only family.”

George slapped his hand on the desk. “Great. Let’s finish filing the paperwork and get a court hearing date.”

“Don’t forget
, I’m meeting with Kelly Schaefer next Tuesday. She says she has another letter.”

George shook his head. “Considering the timing of these letters
, it’s unlikely that Margaret could have squeezed a child in.” He noticed the muted response from Hollis. “What?”

Hollis avoided his eyes.

“I’ve read the letters, and I guess I had a picture in my mind about who Margaret was. She was self-centered, vain, insensitive, and shallow. I didn’t think I liked her very much.”

“Hollis, you don’t have to like—”

“I know that.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Anyway, I fell into making assumptions. But the letters got to me. It’s different once you know a person’s background. Life is so … fragile.”

“I don’t know what surprises me more, the fact that your caring has caught you off guard, or that you let someone get
under your skin, even though that person is dead.”

“George.” She took a large swallow. “You make me sound
 … sound cold and indifferent.”

He shook his head. “Not at all
. I think you just keep things tightly wrapped inside. Look, you’re probably just tired. I know I am. Go home and have a good weekend. We’ll aim for Wednesday to file the court documents.”

Hollis straightened in her chair and brushed imaginary lint off her sweater. “No, I’m okay. I can have the forms ready to go in an hour. If you look over my draft order, I can work over the weekend to finalize it.”

He bent down and gathered his briefcase and sunglasses. “No need to hurry. I’m going home. I have a life to get back to.”

Hollis flinched.

George steered her into the hallway. “Go home, Hollis, have some fun. I’ll see you on Monday.”

She gave him her fake peppy smile.

“I know, I’ll practice getting a life.”

At home, Hollis thought back to the conversation with George. She had to admit that her life was becoming a bit one-dimensional. But things were looking up. She had a date to get ready for on Saturday and a chance to break out of her protective shell. As she had for the past three days, she replayed the conversation with Brad in her mind—what she should have said, what she could have said, what she shouldn’t have said. By the time she replayed and replayed their conversation in her head, she was a mental wreck—a mental wreck with nothing to wear on her first date in six months. She’d have to improvise.

“Stephanie, do you think my black sheath is too formal for a
Yo-Yo Ma concert?” Hollis asked, holding the phone to her ear and riffling through her closet with the other hand.

Whatever Stephanie was chewing sounded delicious. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your black sheath.”

“You know, the one I wore to your Christmas party. You said I looked nice.”

“I was being polite
; it was Christmas.” Stephanie stopped chewing. “Besides, you wouldn’t wear a dress to the Pavilion. You’re going to be sitting on grass.”

Hollis smiled to herself. “No, we’re going to be having dinner there
, so we’ll have seats.”

“Hmm
, nice, but it doesn’t matter, you still need to wear pants and a sexy top.”

Hollis was silent.

Stephanie started chewing again. “I get it. Even if you knew what a sexy top looked like, you don’t own one.” She wiped her mouth. “Don’t worry. You were good enough to help me with my evidence report last week. I’ve got to drop something off at the post office this evening. I can bring by a couple of potential candidates.”

“That’s okay; I can be at your house in a short while.”

It was Stephanie’s turn to be silent.

Then, “Why am I not surprised?”

Hollis ignored her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew her aversion to having people come to her home bordered on neurosis. She had taken a few psychology classes and knew it related to her trust issues—as in lack of. At any rate, Stephanie might be right for the wrong reasons.

Brad arrived exactly on time. By then Hollis was very pleased with her appearance. She and Stephanie had settled on an electric blue peasant blouse with colorful embroidery along an open V-neck—sexy without being obvious. With her black slacks and matching espadrilles, she felt confident he wouldn’t be disappointed.

And judging by the appreciative look he gave her, he wasn’t.

“Why, Miss Morgan, you look fantastic tonight.” He opened the car door as she came down the walkway. “Are you ready for a great concert?”

“More than ready
. I’ve been studying for the bar and haven’t been out just for a good time in months.” She smiled. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He drove well
—not too fast and with confidence.

“Have you known George long?” Hollis asked, to fill in the silence that had fallen between them.

Brad kept his eyes on the road. “I worked an assignment with a mutual friend. When George needed help with the Koch case, he contacted me.” He turned and smiled at her. “It looks like it may have been my lucky day.”

Their seats were stage front
, about ten rows up a slight slope. Dinner was not the best she’d ever tasted, but an evening under the stars made it delicious.

Their conversation lagged until Yo
-Yo Ma’s breathtaking performance silenced them, and there was no need for conversation at all. During intermission Hollis was ready with her prepared topics.

“So, I’ve been reading up on Margaret Koch. It wasn’t in your file, but I discovered that Margaret was married three times.” She didn’t want to sound smug, but she still heard it in her voice.

Brad stiffened.

“Really? Did you discover any heirs?”

From his tone, Hollis knew she was on thin ice. “No, you had that covered. I was reading old letters that she left behind—”

“My report stands
. She didn’t have any heirs. My assignment wasn’t to chase out gossip—”

“Excuse me,
but I wasn’t reading for titillation.” Hollis caught herself and took a breath. “Let’s start over. Isn’t Yo-Yo Ma fantastic?”

She felt his body shift. He laughed.

“Yes, he is. Are you enjoying yourself?” He turned and picked up her hand. “I didn’t mean to fly off like that.”