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“Are you going to be all right?” Dot asked with her characteristic way of getting to the point. “Did Frank leave you something to live on?”

Tracy sighed. “Not much. He didn’t have any life insurance except the policy the bank made him take out the last time we remortgaged the house. That means the mortgage gets paid off and I can live in the house for a while until I have to sell it because there’s nothing else coming in. People are coming out of the woodwork claiming Frank owed them money, too. I’m beginning to think he never paid any bill he could put off.”

Dot gave me a quick look that said
See? I told you so,
and went back to talking to Tracy. “Did he keep his own books for the business, or did you help out with that?”

“He wouldn’t let me touch any of his business stuff. Said he was handling all of it just fine. Maybe he was, but it looks more like he just didn’t want me to see what he was up to.” Tracy looked like she was ready to burst into tears.

“How about your family or his? Is anyone helping you out?” Dot just kept on with the questions, as gently as possible but persistent.

“Not with money. But my brother Mike and his wife are watching the kids for me tonight. Mike’s going to bring Frankie up here in a while, but we all decided that the girls are too young.”

She looked so overwhelmed that I felt like hugging her and telling her it would all be okay, but that wasn’t exactly the truth. I had no idea whether or not Tracy Collins would be okay any time soon. If she was, it would definitely be by the grace of God, because Frank certainly didn’t leave her anything to count on.

“You’re right. We have to tell her about Christian Friends,” I told Dot after we’d moved away from the front of the room so that others could talk to the young widow.

“I will, just not tonight,” Dot said. “I don’t think she’s in any condition to hear and take in what I have to say. She and Frank have never been regular churchgoers anywhere, and the idea of praying for people, or having them pray for you, would be a different one for Tracy. I don’t know anybody who would benefit more from joining a Christian Friends group, but I suspect Tracy will be a hard sell.”

“That’s probably true,” I told her. Then I started looking around the room for some of the other people I wanted to talk to. Darnell was still in conversation with a young man who looked so much like Ed Leopold that he had to be his son. Near the front of the room in a cluster sat several older women, of an age to be Frank’s mother and aunts. Looking at them I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and bumped into a very solid male shoulder.

I started to apologize and the words died in my throat. “Well, well, Gracie Lee,” Fernandez said. “Why am I not surprised that you’re literally the first person I bumped into here?”

“D
ot asked me to come with her,” I told Fernandez, already feeling on the defensive. He seemed to do that to me. No matter what the situation, when I stood facing Ray Fernandez I felt like a teenager caught skipping study hall. He was dressed sharply as usual in dark pants and a black-and-gray herringbone jacket. Tonight he wore a tie to complement his crisp white shirt.

Clearly he’d gone home and changed between work and the funeral home, because this outfit hadn’t seen a full day’s wear. Not even Fernandez could look this fresh after a day’s work.

“You’ll notice I didn’t bother to ask what you were doing here, Gracie Lee,” he said, with much less scowl than I’d expected. “After all, Mr. Collins was working on your apartment when he died, and you found the body. I expected this.”

I opened my mouth to thank him, but before I could get any words out, he continued. “What I don’t expect is for you to insert yourself into my investigation by asking a lot of questions and giving me your opinions.”

Okay, that made me a little huffy but I tried to ignore it. “Any questions I’ve asked so far have been totally appropriate. And right now I have only one opinion I’d share with anybody. I think Tracy Collins could definitely use a Christian Friends group like Dot and I go to. She’s young, widowed and has three kids to support and precious little to do it with.” I teared up a little just thinking about it.

“Okay, I can appreciate that. But maybe it ought to wait until she gets through the next few days.” He looked down at me and his meaning was perfectly clear even though he hadn’t said anything threatening. If he saw me talking to Tracy again, there would be trouble.

Dot would have to talk to her cousins—Frank’s mother and aunts—alone. That wasn’t the way I’d planned things, but it was the way they were going to be tonight. “Is there anyone here that it would be all right for me to talk to?”

I really wanted to talk to the Leopolds, and I got a flash of inspiration on how I could do that without making Fernandez aggravated. “I hope I can talk to the plumbing contractor or his son without upsetting you. We really need to have somebody finish up the bathroom in the apartment and he’d be the most likely candidate since he was Frank’s subcontractor on the job.”

The furrow in Fernandez’s brow cut a little deeper, and then his face cleared. “I expect that would be all right. But please, stick to the subject of plumbing, will you?”

“I’ll try my best. If Mr. Leopold brings up any other issues, I’ll stay away from them as best I can without being rude.”

“That’s all I can ask,” he said, the hint of a smile playing around his handsome face. He really was a good-looking man when he smiled. Too bad I rarely saw him doing that. We really seemed to bring out the worst in each other.

“Have a nice evening, Gracie Lee. Stay out of trouble.” With that suggestion, or order, or whatever it was, he turned and went up to the front of the room to talk to Tracy. I wondered why he hadn’t just parked himself in the back of the room somewhere to see who was here tonight. I was beginning to think that all the television cop shows I’d watched must have gotten it all wrong. Fernandez didn’t behave like the TV cops at all.

I scanned the room for Ed Leopold or his son. I didn’t see the father, but the young man Darnell had said was Bobby still stood near the back, hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable. He looked like he needed someone to talk to. Maybe I was just the person. I walked over to where he was standing.

“Hi. Are you Bob Leopold?” Might as well take the direct approach.

The young man looked puzzled. “Yeah, I am. How did you know that?”

“You look a lot like your dad, and when I was talking to Darnell earlier, he mentioned your name. I’m Gracie Lee Harris, Dot Morgan’s tenant. Has she talked to you or your dad yet about possibly finishing up the job Mr. Collins left?”

“Not yet, but I know what my dad will say. He’d probably be happy to do it, as long as somebody pays him for what Frank already owed him for labor and supplies.”

“Goodness. Hasn’t that already been done?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Frank always tries…uh, I guess that should be tried…to weasel out of paying until the last possible minute. Dad swore last year he was never going to work with him again, but I think Mrs. Morgan talked him into it this time.”

“Ah.” It was just what Dot said before. “So how much did Frank owe you?”

“At least a couple grand. It would be more, but Dad wouldn’t pick up any of the fixtures until he was sure Frank had already paid for them. The plumbing supply place could have gotten a rubber check for all I know, but at least it wasn’t us getting stiffed for a change.” Bob Leopold looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

“If you felt that way about Frank, why are you here tonight?”

He lifted one broad shoulder. “We were working on a job together. And Dad wanted to pay his respects to Mrs. Collins. She’s not a part of what happened with her husband.”

I felt like I’d already pressed my luck, but I decided to go a little further. “That explains why your dad is here. How about you?”

Bob shrugged and I could see his muscles ripple under his shirt. Plumbing must beat going to the gym any day. “It seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, I hang out with Darnell some. He’s okay. Frank probably owed him as much money as he owed anybody else.”

Now that surprised me more than most of the other things I’d learned tonight. Darnell didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I wondered why he’d work for somebody who wasn’t paying him on time, and I said so to Bob. His face colored up, and he looked at the floor for a minute, seeming to compose himself. “I don’t know. Maybe the job had other benefits,” he mumbled. Still looking uncomfortable, he said goodbye.

What kind of side benefits was he talking about? I had to think they were something that Bob Leopold didn’t want to mention in front of a woman like me who was probably near the age of his mother. Given Frank Collins’s reputation, I could think of several things that would cover.

Once we were driving home, Dot and I talked about our various conversations. I told her about what Bob Leopold had said, both about Frank owing them money and what he’d intimated about Darnell. Dot seemed agitated by that.

“Everything I hear about Frank stirs me up more. And it tells me that I should have talked to Candace before now about Frank’s death. She’s going to be upset because of it. She may even want to go to the funeral.”

I wasn’t totally sure what Candace had to do with what I’d just told Dot. She’d hinted before that one of Candace’s former roommates might have had problems with Frank. But that had been years ago. Was there still something going on that would involve Candace with Frank besides the fact that her roommate might be dating someone on the plumbing crew? It wasn’t really my business to ask.

Dot looked at the dashboard clock. “It’s only eight-thirty. Do you mind if we make a detour to Camarillo and talk to Candace?”

It would only take an extra forty-five minutes or so, and Dot wanted to do it. “That’s fine with me.” I could always study a little later. And now I was interested to hear what Candace had to say, assuming I went with Dot into the group home. I should probably offer to stay outside while they had a private conversation.

“Great. Then do me a favor. Reach down in between our seats and get my cell phone out of my purse. On one of the speed dial numbers I’ve got the phone at Candace’s house. Kirsten will probably answer. She’s the ‘house mother’ in charge. Explain who you are and ask if it’s okay if we stop by tonight. I don’t want to go out there to find out that Candace is at the movies or something.”

I found her phone and did what she asked. As predicted, a perky female voice answered, saying “Rose House, this is Kirsten. How can I help you?”

“Kirsten, my name is Gracie Lee Harris and I’m a friend of Dot Morgan’s.”

“I knew I should recognize that phone number. Dot’s okay, I hope.”

“She’s fine, but she was wondering if it would be all right for her to stop by in a short time and talk to Candace.”

“Sure. We’re not into anybody’s bedtime routine yet here, just sitting around playing board games and listening to music in the living room. Tell her to come on over.”

Now I was interested to see Kirsten, too. She sounded very pleasant and full of energy. But then I imagined she’d have to be in her position or she wouldn’t last long. I thanked her, said goodbye and turned off the phone. “Kirsten says that Candace is there, playing board games and listening to music. In fact, she said for you to come on over.”

“Good. I’m not sure she’ll be happy to see me once she sees why I’m there. I don’t want to stir up the girls, but the news probably will.”

Dot stayed on the freeway from Simi Valley past the exits for Rancho Conejo, switched freeways and headed on toward Camarillo on the 101. We took one of the first exits for that city and were soon in a residential area of pleasant but not palatial homes. She pulled up to a ranch-style house on a corner. There was light in almost all of the front windows.

She looked over at me. “Of course you’re coming in with me. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out here alone. Besides, I might want reinforcements, depending on how the conversation with Candace goes.”

“Okay.” If Dot wanted me inside, I would be more than happy to go. We went up the front walk and Dot rang the bell. I could hear music playing inside, and the sounds of laughter. Then the door opened and a young woman with pale blond hair motioned us to come in. Southern California was certainly full of Scandinavian-looking women. And they all seemed to be a size two.

“Hi, Dot. Is this your friend who made the phone call for you? Thanks for not calling yourself while you were driving. I worry about people who do that.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t use that thing if I’m driving unless it’s a true emergency. Kirsten, this is my friend Gracie Lee Harris. She just went to a visitation at Dodd and Sons with me and when we talked afterward I came to the conclusion that I needed to tell Candace about her cousin’s death. They weren’t very close, but she might want to go to the funeral tomorrow.”

Kirsten tilted her head in thought. On her it looked charming. “Okay. She and Lucy and Tina are over at the table playing dominoes and listening to Barry Manilow.”

Dot laughed softly. “Let me guess. It was Tina’s turn to pick the music.”

Kirsten smiled, revealing even white teeth and making her blue eyes sparkle. “You got it.” She looked at me. “Tina only has one favorite artist. Barry Manilow. I think I now know all the words to ‘Copacabana’ by heart.”

I groaned internally, knowing now that there was no way I could do Kirsten’s job as cheerfully and calmly as she did it. Still smiling, the young woman pointed me toward the table where Dot had claimed the fourth seat. I recognized Candace from seeing her at church. She was a bit shorter and wider than Dot, with brown hair and glasses. Her features didn’t have the most obvious cast of some people I’d known with Down syndrome. A casual look at Candace might show a stranger just a slightly heavy, plainly dressed young woman. Only close observation, and hearing her somewhat slow speech, would tell someone of her disability.

She had gotten up to hug Dot. “This is a surprise, Mom. It’s Tuesday night. You never come over on Tuesday night.
What
is going on?”

Dot flashed a brief smile and Candace went back to her seat. “I have some bad news that I want to tell you in person, Candace.”

Her daughter looked worried. “Did something happen to Daddy? Or my Dixie dog?”

“No, they’re both fine, Candace. Do you remember my cousin Frank?”

Candace’s expression went from worried to troubled. Standing behind Dot, I also noticed that one of her domino-playing companions had stopped playing and was intent on the conversation. This young woman was younger than Candace and strikingly beautiful. She was a little heavyset, and tried to conceal that with loose sweats, but her face was lovely. She had huge brown eyes with long dark lashes, and glossy black hair. And right now her lower lip was trembling a little.

“I remember Frank,” Candace said, a little louder than necessary. “Did something happen to him, Mom? I hope it did. He’s not a nice man.”

Dot looked a little surprised by her daughter’s vehemence. “Yes, something happened to him. He had an accident and he died, Candace. There will be funeral services for him at church tomorrow morning. Do you want to go?”

Candace shook her head. “No. I have to work tomorrow and I don’t want to ask for a day off. And you said that we go to funerals because we’re sad when somebody dies. I don’t think I’m sad about Frank.”

Candace was usually pretty blunt, but I’d never heard her express a hurtful thought about anybody before. She was the kind of person who bent down and took earthworms off the sidewalk so they wouldn’t dry up before they got to a strip of grass. The more I heard people talk about Frank Collins, the more I wondered about all the parts of his life I hadn’t been privy to. He certainly engendered a lot of hard feelings in the people he dealt with. This was, as the kids would say, one bad dude.

“I want to go to the funeral, Candace’s mom. Will you take me?” Dot looked almost as surprised by the other woman’s request as she had at Candace’s outburst.

“Sure, Lucy. I’d be happy to take you. Can you get off work tomorrow? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Wednesday is my day off. I don’t have to go in,” Lucy said. As I looked at Lucy more closely I could see one thing that might explain why she was living in a group home when at first she looked perfectly normal. The right side of her head didn’t appear to be shaped the same way as the left, making a shallow curved indentation under her black hair. Perhaps she’d suffered brain damage at some point. When we were alone I would ask Dot about it.

“All right, then there’s no problem with you going,” Dot said and paused a moment. “Did you know about Frank before I came tonight?” Dot’s question struck me as a little strange until I remembered that she had told me before that Lucy was dating a young man apprenticed to the plumber. I had probably seen Matt without really knowing it when the kitchen in the apartment was being reworked. I tried to think back to Leopold’s crew, but couldn’t remember what he or his helpers looked like.