The Fallen Angels Book Club (20 page)

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Authors: R. Franklin James

Tags: #crime, #california, #paralegal, #bay area, #white collar crime, #white collar

BOOK: The Fallen Angels Book Club
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I opened the front door. He walked down the front path to the walkway. Then he paused and turned. “Oh, and you can throw out those old pictures you told me about. The statute of limitations was up on my crime four months ago.”

I slammed the door as hard as I could and stood at the front window as he drove away. My neighbor had a visitor who sat in his car and must have heard the door. Beneath bushy eyebrows and an equally thick mustache, he gave me a small smile. I pulled the curtain closed.

Tears poured from my eyes as I leaned against the window. Tears I swore I'd never shed again, hot angry tears. He could still set me off.

I grabbed a dish of leftover lasagna from the freezer and slammed it into the microwave. Minutes later, my hand shook as I brought a fork to my mouth. The pasta was flavored by the salt of my tears.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

P
robate court was thankfully predictable. The court clerk stamped in the client documents and, when our file number came up, I stood next to the clerk and took receipt of approved copies. It was the routine that kept my sanity.

At about ten-thirty I returned to the firm and dropped several sets of filing papers to go out in FedEx. I went back to my office to clear my desk of pending case matters.

Without thinking, I caught myself picking up the phone to call Abby to share a salad. As I slowly put the phone back in its cradle, I missed her more than I thought I could. I wondered what the police were doing with Rena's information. In this case, no news wasn't necessarily good news.

I couldn't stop my thoughts from drifting to Lily as I sat at my desk and tried to come up with a strategy to prove or disprove Marla's fears.

Lisa, one of the two other paralegals in the firm, stood in my doorway with a pleading look on her face.

“Since Cathy's gone, I need a place where I can assemble the discovery on a complicated environmental case. My office is too small and people keep coming in and out.”

I knew where this was going.

“You have more seniority than I do,” she went on. “You have first shot at a new office. Would you mind if I used it for the next few weeks?”

A light came on in my head. Lisa's words hit me like a rock. I told her the office was hers for as long as she needed it.

That was it. Joseph was using Marjorie's old office. No one would think to look in there until they hired a new nurse.

I debated whether to make my next visit to the center when I knew Joseph would be there. Very likely he thought I knew about his nefarious dealings and would pick a day when he was away. If I visited when he was there, he might think I hadn't caught on yet and could continue with his sideline.

Going to the center after work was becoming a welcome habit. For a few moments it took my mind off the murders. This time I stopped and picked up sugar-free oatmeal cookies. I didn't want to trigger an outbreak of diabetes in the senior population with an overload of doughnuts. I passed through the lobby.

One of the new male residents whose name I couldn't remember approached me with his walker. “Hollis, I'm so glad you're here. Can you go to the library? Marla could use some help with Lily.”

If Marla was already helping, I doubted I'd do any better. “Here, er …” I thrust out the bakery's box of cookies.

“Phil.”

“Of course, Phil. Can you put these in the community room for me?”

He took the box and trudged slowly back toward his fellow residents.

I dashed down the hallway.

Lily was weeping.

Marla held her close and rocked her slowly back and forth. She had her hand over Lily's brow and murmured words of comfort. Marla saw me first and shook her head slightly in concern.

She murmured, “Lily, I want you to take some breaths and blink your eyes a few times.” She kept her voice slow and steady. “I want you to remember we have to go through the garden catalog to order bulbs for the gardener. We told him we would.”

Lily said nothing, but her crying lessened. I motioned to Marla that I would go get a nurse, but her eyes gave me a strong no.

“Now, that's better. You just had a spell. Breathe deeply.” Marla patted her head and slowly straightened Lily in the chair. “Look who's here? It's Hollis. You need to pull yourself together if you want to ask her about your house.”

Lily looked up. Her eyes and cheeks were red; her lips trembled. She righted herself and took a handkerchief out of her housecoat pocket to blow her nose.

“I used to be a museum curator. I know the value of my things.”

Her statement caught me by surprise. “I didn't know that. I thought you told me you used to own a business.”

“That's because you don't listen.”

Marla smiled at me. Lily was back to normal.

She motioned for me to stay put while she walked Lily to her room. In less than ten minutes, she was back.

“Marla, I think Lily may need to see the nurse. She's getting worse. It may not be wrong medication. She may have an … an illness.”

She sat down next to me. “Nonsense.” She lowered her voice. “Hollis, if we get the staff involved, they'll take Lily away. They'll put her in a ward and probe her and stick her and scare her to … death.”

“I know she's your friend, and I know you're worried about her, but I think you have to consider all the possibilities. She might need true medical help.”

Marla grabbed my arm. “Just help me make sure it's not her medication. If I knew she wasn't being harmed, I'd be at peace with things. By the way, why are you here this evening? Did you come to search?”

I pulled away gently until her arm dropped to her lap. “I told you I wasn't going to speak about what I'm doing. I came to see if I left a folder in the community room. Tell you what. We'll make a deal. If I can't prove it's Lily medication that has changed her by the start of the week, we'll both go to see the director and tell her about Lily's behavior.”

“Make it two weeks. I know you're trying to get ready for your hearing.”

“No. One week. Next Monday. I'll either figure this out by then or there's nothing to figure out.”

I don't think she realized how much I counted on having nothing to figure out. I needed a win. I was also burning out on trying to figure out who the guilty Fallen Angel was.

Maybe Gene was right about Miller being just another club member and not a killer. On the other hand, Miller brought the books. He knew the plots before any of us. Abby's murder was described in the book we'd just discussed. Miller would have had plenty of time to read the book and set up the crime scene. He could have left the note on Rena's windshield. Miller could easily be the one. I had to discover his secret. And I had to discover it before he figured out I was on to him.

When three thirty rolled around, I stopped shuffling papers. I just couldn't focus on work. I walked over to Mark's office and told him I was going to get the last signature from the Riddick heir.

“You want me to come with you?”

“I'll be all right.” I preferred going alone but appreciated the offer.

“Have you had a chance to look over the Riddick will?” he asked.

“Yes. It's pretty basic. Why?”

“It looks like Imelda's nieces and nephews were fairly middle-class. It was the Riddicks that had the money.” He leaned over his desk. “I just wondered why a twenty-something Imelda would even have a will. Her family didn't own any property. Why would she name Triple D as her executor?”

I was with him on this.

“We have a team meeting with Avery coming up,” I said. “Let's ask him. We'll have all the signatures by then. I still have to complete the case research, even though it looks like we're going to get all our signatures. I've got plenty of citations.”

I pulled out a large volume of court cases.

Mark seemed distracted. “Hollis, er … your friend, Rena. Is she married?”

“What?”

He appeared fascinated with a button on his shirt. “If she's available, I'd like to get to know her.”

“Rena, married? I don't think so.” I smiled. “She must have made a big impression. You only just met her.”

I smiled to see Mark blush as he said, “Maybe you could ask her if you could give me her number.” He faked ducking as if I'd hit him.

“Very funny. You'd better duck. Do I look like a matchmaker?”

“No. You look like anything but that.” Mark laughed. “Hollis, I really would like to get to know her.”

The disappearance of his smile told me he was serious.

“I'm not making promises. I don't expect to see her very soon. We'll see.”

I guess I'm still a sucker for romance. By the time I left work, I knew I'd call Rena. I was only mildly surprised at how willing Rena was for me to give her phone number to Mark. She also seemed to realize I drew the line at girl chatter and wouldn't engage in any speculative conversation about his eligibility as a bachelor.

My next call wasn't as easy.

“Homicide, Faber.”

“Detective Faber, this is Hollis Morgan. I was wondering if I could talk to you about Bill Lynley. He contacted me.”

He didn't answer right away. “Sure, do you want me to come there?”

I shook my head, thankful he couldn't see the look of distaste on my face. “No. Remember, I don't work too far from the station. I can come to you. What time is best?”

“How about after you leave work today? I'll stay until you get here.”

I went through the security checkpoint. Minutes later I faced an obviously tense Detective Faber in what I knew to be an interview room.

“I'm going to tape this. Hopefully you won't mind?”

My throat went dry. I knew it wouldn't make a difference if I did. “Bill Lynley came to see me.”

Faber's head shot up. “At your home? When?”

“Last night.”

Faber's lips formed a thin line.

“I know. I guess I should have called you this morning.”

“You guessed right. What did he want?”

“He told me I was in danger. That he and Rory worked on some kind of scheme with a third person.”

“Who's the third person?”

“I don't know. He didn't say. He did say Rory started blackmailing some guy he and Bill did this scheme with. Only Rory dealt with him. He never let Bill see the guy.” I realized how stupid I sounded. “Anyway, he thinks that's the guy who killed Rory.”

“Did he actually say ‘guy'? Or is that your word?”

I replayed the conversation with Bill in my mind. “I'm not sure.”

“Did he say what the scheme was?”

“No.”

“So why did he think you were in danger if you don't know the scheme?”

That was a question I had as well. “I don't know. I didn't give him a chance to tell me. I … I really wasn't interested in talking to him. I told him to go away. He lies.”

Detective Faber tilted his head back. “You don't think he's lying now?”

“I don't know.”

“Did he tell you where he's staying?”

“No, but I had called Rory's mother earlier to … to give my condolences, and Bill answered.”

Detective Faber reached for his phone, punched in a few numbers and asked to speak to Lincoln. From the frown on his face, he must not have been around.

“Okay, Mrs. Lyn— … Ms. Morgan, we appreciate you giving us this information. We're still working out the details of the relationship between your husband and Rollins, er … Norris.

“Ex-husband and yeah, I … I just want all this to end as soon as possible.” I stood to leave. “Am I still on your suspect list?”

I thought I saw a hint of a smile, but if it was there, it was too faint and vanished too quickly for me to be sure.

“Everyone—”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone's a suspect, but … but am I high on your suspect list?”

“It's undisputed that two murders were committed which involve your book club. We have eliminated no one from our suspect list.” He came around the table and stood next to me. “Ms. Morgan, you were right to come in. However, I caution you that withholding information in a criminal investigation is a crime. We want to see this wrapped up quickly as well.”

“I don't know anything else.” It was the truth. I was tired of lying.

He walked over to the door. “Then I want to thank you for taking the time to come in. Next time, err on the side of being conservative and get in contact with us as soon as you think you have any information affecting this case. Not days later. Not hours later. Let us decide if it's meaningful. Thank you again.”

I was dismissed.

Opal Murray stood in the lobby of the senior center. I got the distinct impression she was waiting for me to arrive.

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