by Karen Woods
“It’s okay, ‘Licia.”
“No, it’s not okay, Geoff. It is most definitely not okay.”
“You can cry if you want to.”
“Thanks for permission,” ‘Licia retorted. “Just who do you think that you are that I would have to apply to you for permission to cry?”
“Take it easy, ‘Licia. I didn’t mean it that way.”
She drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. This all is just getting to me. That house was small, but it was mine. It was the first real home that I had in years. And I was attached to it.”
“I know, baby...Don’t worry about it. If you didn’t blow up, I’d worry about you.”
“Did you have to use that phrase? I think that I’ve had quite enough of things blowing up, thank you.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let’s grab a bite of breakfast somewhere.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ve got to eat, ‘Licia. How about strawberry waffles at Granny’s?”
“Sounds decadent.”
“You wouldn’t know decadent if it crawled up and bit you on the toe. Decadent would be if we had strawberry waffles at home, minus the waffles, in bed,” I replied with a laugh. “Strawberries and cream a la ‘Licia and Geoff.”
‘Licia blushed.
“I’m game.”
“That’s not what you said this morning when I threw myself at you,” she said.
I sighed. “Darling, this morning was the wrong time. You weren’t ready. One day, you will be. When that day arrives, I’ll be only too glad to oblige you.”
“I wish that I could believe that.”
I patted her hand. “There are more important things in life than sex.”
She sighed.
Looking in the rearview mirror, I said, “Don’t look now, but the television crew is on our tail.”
“Terrific.”
Instead of a sit down breakfast, we took away a sack of breakfast sandwiches from a drive through. Then, we went to the Jencomp laboratory building to eat.
The building was ideal. Within walking distance of both my office and the college, this was where ‘Licia did most of her research. The one story brick building had once been a fairly large mom-and-pop grocery store. Then the building had housed a restaurant. ‘Licia had bought it after the restauranteurs had retired.
‘Licia had increased the security on the building. It now required either two keys, or being buzzed in, in order to enter. The original display windows were now bulletproof glass and the front wall had been reinforced with steel and masonry.
A small entryway had been created when she had built a thick wall of steel re-enforced concrete blocks. A thick steel door sat firmly cemented into place in the wall separated the old display windows from the business part of the building. A variety of posters and other displays for community events and organizations could always be found in the windows.
People sometimes joked that you could always tell what was going on in the area by the posters in the Jencomp window. State of the art video cameras hung in the foyer, so that whoever was inside could identify anyone seeking entrance.
Toward the back of the building, there was a truck bay. But, the security provisions at the back entrance were roughly the same as those in the front.
There were some people who said that ‘Licia was paranoid about security. But, I knew that several of the pieces of software, and hardware, which ‘Licia had developed were worth literally millions on the open market. She would have had to be less than bright not to take precautions with her intellectual property. There were too many people who would have been only too happy to acquire the newest Jencomp innovation, sight unseen, based simply upon the strength of her proven track record.
The rest of the building was divided into five basic areas. There was a clean room for the manufacture of hardware under a strictly controlled environment and the dressing room for the clean room. Then there was the software development area sporting an array of the computers in various sizes and configurations. The third area was a place for ‘Licia to ‘play with’ robotics. The building was completed by a small kitchenette with a bathroom, and ‘Licia’s small but plush office. This was ‘Licia’s private domain. She could easily, and frequently did, disappear inside for days on end.
She was quite careful about whom she allowed inside the building. I didn’t even have a key. In fact, this was only the second time that I had been invited inside.
‘Licia and I sat the small round walnut table in one corner of her well-appointed office. On the walls of the office, there were several original paintings worth a substantial sum of money.
‘Licia, for her protests of not being hungry, dug into the biscuits and sausage.
“I’m not looking forward to today,” ‘Licia said before she sipped from the plastic container of orange juice.
“Who handles your insurance?”
“Cait Richardson.”
“Call Caitland first thing after office hours begin. The police are going to want to take your statement. Then there will be an investigator for the fire marshals office who will want to talk with you. If you want, I’ll cancel my appointments for today, and stay with you as legal counsel.”
“I think that I can manage, Geoff. I have nothing to hide. And I will tape record all the conversations for later transcription. I’ve learned that much about dealing with the police.”
I took her hand. “Are you sure that you are going to be fine?”
“Nope. Not at all.”
“I can believe that.”
She looked at her wristwatch. “There’s about an hour until Mass. I think that I will walk down to the Church and go to the eight-thirty Mass.”
“We’ll go together.”
“I have to get another wedding dress. Mine went up with the house.”
“There are at least two wedding dresses in the attic of my house. My mother’s and my grandmother’s. There may be three. You are about their size, or the size that they were when they married. It may be a matter of simply cleaning them and doing minor repairs.”
‘Licia smiled. “An heirloom dress . . .” she said, her voice holding almost a tone of wonder. “That’s something that I never thought that I would have.”
I cleared my throat. She wasn’t at all going to like what I was going to tell her. And frankly, I didn’t want to raise the issue, even though I knew that I had to. “I’m going to hire bodyguards for you, ‘Licia. I want to make certain that you stay safe.”
‘Licia reached under her suit jacket and produced a small pistol I didn’t know that she owned. “So do I.”
I nodded, absorbing the fact that ‘Licia was armed. “Okay. If you’re sure that you don’t want bodyguards?”
‘Licia replaced the Walther. “I’m sure. I don’t know what I would do with bodyguards, Geoff.”
“Use them to run interference with the press?”
“Now, that’s a thought . . .”
The telephone rang. ‘Licia nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You want me to get that?”
“Yes. But, don’t identify yourself or the number.”
“Morning. Phil? Yeah, we’re here. Okay. I’ll ask.”
I looked at ‘Licia. “Phil wants to know if you would like to come down to Municipal Services now to make a statement.”
‘Licia sighed. “I suppose. But I want to leave in time to go to Church. I really need to go to Mass this morning.”
“Be right there, Phil.”
The investigator from the fire marshal’s office was a nondescript middle aged man who sat quietly while Phil took ‘Licia’s statement.
‘Licia looked at her watch. “Anything else?”
Phil nodded negatively.
The investigator cleared his throat. “The last time that you were at your house was when?”
“Seven thirty or so last evening, I suppose.”
“And everything was normal there?”
“I didn’t notice
anything out of the ordinary. Anything else?”
The investigator shook his head. “Not just now. I’ll probably have more questions later.”
“I’ll be at the college during most of the morning. I’ve got some papers to grade. From eleven until about three, I’ll be at Holy Rosary’s track. The team has a meet at home this afternoon. Although if the track doesn’t dry out, we’ll have to call the meet. Then I’ll be at my lab until about seven. After that, I’ll be at Geoff’s.”
Phil smiled at her. “Organized Al,” he said.
‘Licia’s face took on a pained expression. “At this point, my schedule is the only thing that I feel in control of. Now, if you will excuse me, there is just enough time for me to get to Church before Mass begins.”
“You try not to worry, Al,” Phil advised.
“How can I not worry? It was bad enough when I got the telephone calls. Then the harassment became dead flowers and a threatening note. Then Sarah vanished. That was followed by the theft of my car. And now, my house has been destroyed. What’s next, Philip? Who’s next? I shudder to think about that. Who is he going to go after next? What part of my life is the next avenue of attack?”
Phil patted ‘Licia’s hand. “You wouldn’t consider going into protective custody?”
“A jail cell? No thank you, Philip.”
“It might be a way of keeping you alive,” Phil offered.
‘Licia nodded negatively. “No way. Hernandez probably isn’t on a timetable. He’s waited for a dozen years and chased me half way across the country. He’ll just wait for me. The only way to beat him is to wait for him to make an open move.”
“You should consider bodyguards,” Phil said.
“And scare him off? No. I won’t do that. Frightening him off now would only mean that he’d be back later. I’ve got less to lose now than I may have in the future,” ‘Licia said.
I took her hand. She smiled at me.
She rose from her chair. “You know where you can find me today, if you need me.”
The news crew followed us to the Church. But they didn’t have the audacity to come inside.
Chapter 14
PHIL
I sat back at my desk on the morning of May 8th and reread the report about Hernandez. Where did that information leave Al?
The phone calls had stopped. The crime lab voice print of the police recorded tape and of the tapes which she had given to me of the calls which she had received in Los Angeles had shown that the voice was the same in both cases.
In fact, the calls were, as Al has suspected, identical to the tapes of the LA calls. Or, at least, although not a simple copy, were taken from the tapes, according to the report which came back from the lab.
Just as quickly as the calls had begun, they had ended. Yet, the absence of calls had not lessened Al’s nervousness. If anything, she was shakier now than she had been as she simply waited for something else to happen. Of course, given the circumstances, that was not an unreasonable reaction. I thought that it was as though she was waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.
Al was convinced that this Hernandez fellow wanted her dead. But, according to the information in this report, Raoul Hernandez was dead. Involved in an auto crash in Central America two years previously, Hernandez’ body had been burned beyond all recognition. The crash had broken the man’s jaw and knocked out enough teeth to make the body unidentifiable by dental records. Still, several eyewitnesses had verified that the man in the car had been Hernandez.
This made me uneasy. Could Hernandez have faked his death, including hiring witnesses? Or was someone else behind all of this? If so, who?
It would have to be someone who knew how Al was likely to react to the situations, who knew in detail about her past, and who had the technical competence—or the resources to hire someone—to falsify those tapes.
The first person to be suspected, under any usual listing of suspects, would be Geoff. But, I couldn’t, didn’t want to, believe that could be true.
Still, Geoff was having financial problems with his Apple Acres development. I had no doubt that the suit a group of rabid environmentalists had filed against the development would be eventually dismissed. But, the costs Geoff was incurring were significant. He made no secret of that.
Al had money. Just how much, no one besides Al knew for certain. But, Jencomp was privately held. She was the sole stockholder. And the corporation had carved out a sizable position for itself in the computer hardware and software markets.
That pre-nuptial agreement which she had mentioned during the conversation in her office on the day that she had received the flowers could be important. What if the only way that Geoff could get her money was if she were either dead or declared mentally incompetent, with him being named as executor or conservator of her estate?
That was a truly nasty thought. But, I knew that it was one that I had to explore. Still, how do you investigate your best friend?
I picked up my phone and placed calls to Geoff and Al. It was time, past time, for a meeting.
Chapter 15
ALICIA
I read the report. I handed it to Geoff, without saying a word. I knew that my face had to have been as white as if I had seen a ghost. In all practicality, that was close enough to the truth, if the report were true. But, it couldn’t be, could it? How could Raoul Hernandez be dead? For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I had totally lost my grasp on reality. I had heard his voice over the telephone. Dead men don’t make phone calls.
Or at least, they don’t without the intervention of the living. The calls could have been taken from the tapes in the closet. I knew that was a possibility, maybe even a probability. Still, if it wasn’t Hernandez, who was it who was doing this to me?
Who could hate me that much?
Ever since the day that the flowers had arrived, and Phil had raised the issue, I had wondered about that. Somehow, it was much easier to simply believe that it was Hernandez. I knew that he hated me. It was far easier to attribute this to him.
Was I simply acting like electricity and taking the path of least resistance?
If Hernandez was dead, and that wasn’t a possibility of which I was totally convinced, then someone else out there wanted to hurt me. That possibility frightened me. Doubly so, because I had no idea about who it could have been. I had to wonder if I was insensitive enough to have made a major enemy without having realized it.
“So, where does this leave me?” I asked.
“The calls were clearly being made, Al. But, we have to disregard the possibility that it is Hernandez making them.”
“Who else could it be? No one else wants to hurt ‘Licia.”
Phil shook his head. “I don’t know anyone completely without enemies. Who would have known about the tapes of Hernandez’s calls?”
I frowned. “Not many people. Me, Geoff, Sarah, a couple of police officers in L.A., and you.”
“Sarah?” Phil asked.
“Sarah Quinn.”
“I see,” Phil replied. “Who would have access to the tapes?”
“Myself, the cleaning woman—Ada McAllister—Geoff . . . I suppose that anyone who had been in my house could have had access to the tapes. I kept them on the top shelf in a closet in a small box behind everything else.”
“Was Sarah ever in your house?”
“I haven’t seen Sarah in twelve years. I haven’t talked with her, or had any direct contact with her in that time.”
Geoff cleared his throat. “Are we certain that the Hernandez fellow is actually dead?”
At the disbelieving look which Phil directed at him, Geoff added, “Yes, Phil. I read the report. But, I also know that it is very easy to falsify a death record in many parts of Central and South America. The insurance companies face that sort of thing all the time. I have a friend from law school who now works for a major insurance company as one of their legal counsels. He tells me that the next legitimate claim that they have from anywhere in Sou
th America will be the first legitimate claim that he sees. That’s why the question is in the standard application now about whether the applicant for a policy intends to travel overseas in the foreseeable future. The report did say that the body was burned beyond recognition. Dental records were inconclusive. It is possible that Hernandez faked his own death, planning something like this. It would be relatively easy to bribe witnesses to swear to what they ‘saw’. Stranger things have happened.”
“I don’t know that we can rule anything out at this point,” Phil replied. “No matter how ridiculous the theory may appear.”
“Well,” Geoff told him, “‘Licia has had far too much of this strain. She ought to get away for a while. I’m taking her to Chicago for the weekend to meet my brother. As strange as it may seem, the two of them have never actually met. It’s well past time that my brother meets the woman who is going to be the mother of his nieces and nephews.”
I felt my face grow warm.
Phil smiled, but there was something not quite right in his eyes. “That may be a good idea. Give my regards to Monsignor William.”
Geoff smiled. “We’ll do that.”
The cab pulled up in front of an old brick church. Geoff paid the cabbie. While picking up my suitcase and purse, I heard the driver say, “I’d get wherever you are going quick. This ain’t a good neighborhood, ‘specially this time of night.”
Geoff took my arm and walked toward the white two-story house that stood next to the Church. Climbing the steps to the house, I saw the door open. That has to be Will, I thought as I looked at the man in the doorway. I couldn’t believe how much the two brothers resembled each other. The only difference readily discernible was that Will was obviously older than Geoff. Will’s blond hair had turned that rich shade of platinum that many blondes have in lieu of gray.
Geoff walked up to the man who stood in the doorway. Hugging him, Geoff said, “Willie, it’s good to see you.”
“Yeah, kiddo. How’s my brother baby?” Will asked. “Come in. Come in. No need to stand there all night. Have you had dinner?” I walked into the house just in front of Geoff. Will closed and locked the door behind us. I looked at Geoff, waiting for an introduction.
