by Anna Burke
“Anyway, that rage Sally directed at her parents all collapsed into a pool of despair once Conroy dumped her. She didn’t say she was contemplating suicide, but that overdose was an accident waiting to happen. Still, Sally did the right thing and called in that tip to the feds about Pinnacle. One of the last entries in that diary was about making amends for what she had done to her own family by saving other families from that disastrous IPO. It also sounds like she had, or planned to have, a confrontation with Eric Conroy. Sally wanted him to turn himself in to the authorities or she was going to do it. If that confrontation took place the night she died, she might have had a little help with that overdose.”
“What happened the night Sally died is another mystery we won’t be able to clear up completely, Jessica. Thanks to you, Jerry, we know both Carr and Conroy were with her that night. Hotel surveillance footage puts them on the premises at different times, with Carr the last to leave. That was after he called 911. Too little, too late; but was it an error in judgment or intentional? Who knows?” Frank shook his head, taking a sip from the beer he held.
“That fits with what Shannon Donnelly told Detective Hernandez and other authorities. It's a miracle she survived. Maybe Carr had some kind of feelings for her. More likely, she was just lucky Carr died up there on that mountain before he cashed in big on his share of the take from the IPO. The money Shannon Donnelly would get, if her parents turned over control of her trust fund to her, would have been chump change compared to the payday Carr hoped to get from the Pinnacle IPO. Shannon Donnelly was as diabolical as Libby in her quest to get the money from her parents,” Jessica said.
“Yeah, but no better equipped than Sally Winchester or Libby Van Der Woert when she came up against Dr. Dick and the red devil,” Kim added. “I’m with you, Jessica. Carr would have done away with Shannon too, if he’d survived his effort to get rid of you and Libby.”
“It’s clear that Libby and Shannon were both creating trouble for Carr. The last round started at their condo in Manhattan Beach when Shannon brought that broken rosary to Libby. Shaken, she told Libby she overheard Eric Conroy and Dick Carr quarrelling. Conroy didn't know that Carr had hidden Shannon in another room when Conroy barged in to chew Dr. Dick out about getting involved with daffy skirts like Libby Van Der Woert. That pissed off the shrink, who reminded Conroy he’d had a daffy skirt problem of his own. They fought about what happened with Sally. Carr claimed he had cleaned up after Conroy that night, picking up that broken rosary, straightening up so it didn’t look like Sally had fought with anyone, and calling 911. He even accused Conroy of giving Sally too many pills or the wrong pills. Conroy countered, blaming the psychiatrist for giving Sally too many pills. After Conroy cooled off and left, Shannon caught Carr with that broken rosary. He had picked it up all right, but kept it. Maybe to use against Conroy if he needed a little leverage of his own. Anyway, Shannon took it, but she wasn’t sure what to do with it, and can’t remember how it ended up in Libby's car. The blood on the crucifix is Sally’s, and the partial print’s a match to Conroy.”
“Why did Shannon take it?” Kim asked. “I know what I would have intended to do with dope like that on a weasel like Conroy, who must have ripped that rosary out of Sally’s hand. These Beverly Hills chicks are hard to figure out.”
“You’re right, Kim. I bet she was trying to protect her head-shrinker boyfriend, thinking he was in trouble about Sally,” Bernadette commented from the chaise in which she sat. Bernadette was drinking something stronger than beer—a frosty Margarita that Tommy had whipped up for them.
“It could be, Bernadette, but Shannon says she felt confused. Shannon heard the two men blame each other for killing Sally by feeding her too many drugs. Carr also told Conroy that if he had called 911 that night, before he left the hotel, Sally would still be alive. So she could have been trying to nail Conroy. What a frigging waste to lose Sally like that no matter how it happened,” Jessica groused, taking a swig of her own Margarita.
“I don’t think Shannon or Libby could clear their heads enough to go to the police—at least not until Libby called me up to Mt. San Jacinto. Running off to the desert was Shannon’s idea. The dispute between Carr and Conroy had created a crisis. The two women got themselves so worked up about the red devil, they ran for it. Once they got to the La Quinta Resort, they bickered. Shannon says the thing that bothered Libby most about the whole mess was that Shannon had found that rosary in Carr’s house. Libby was upset to find out Carr was sleeping with both of them. That night in Cathedral City, they fought over him. When they got back to Shannon's car after dinner and wine, their fighting got physical. Shannon got a nose bleed. They both called Carr, as we already know. They didn’t ask him anything about Sally, but demanded that he choose between them. Instead, he played them both—told Libby to get a cab and go back to the La Quinta Resort. He picked up Shannon and ran the ‘you’re the love of my life’ routine on her. After that, he stashed Shannon in a condo out here in the desert and knocked her out with drugs, and she didn’t see him until the next day. I figure that’s when Carr paid Libby a visit in his Mercedes and she cleaned it out for him—putting more lovely items in her little blue suitcase a few days later when she went back to Manhattan Beach. I’m not sure how Libby got the idea Shannon was dead, but maybe it was the stuff she found in his car, or just wishful thinking.”
“Whoa, that dude was busy, Jessica,” Brien said. “Somebody was following Libby, who was that?”
“That’s a great question, Brien. Carr had his hands full juggling Conroy and those two women—and who knows what else? He must have hired someone to keep tabs on her,” Jessica replied.
“We know Carr checked into a hotel the weekend he died. He got that call on his cell phone around twelve-thirty, later traced to a burner phone, so the hired hand idea makes sense. That must be how he learned that Libby and Jessica were up there, together. Shannon Donnelly seemed like she was doing what Carr had told her to do—staying out of sight—until Carr broke his neck. That is what killed him, not the gunshot. At some point, Shannon took matters into her own hands. That's when she made it her business to stalk you, Jessica,” Frank said.
“Shannon was about as far off the deep end over Carr as Sally had been about Conroy. Yes, Shannon was trailing me, and took those shots at us on Rodeo Drive.”
“She’s got skills if she could keep up with you, Jessica,” Peter said. “Even Brien here didn’t spot her.”
“I wasn’t looking for Shannon Donnelly, Man. Why didn’t you see her, Uber-Thor?”
“You guys were on the lookout for a skilled sniper, not a nondescript 30-something woman in baggy sweats and a hoodie or a baseball cap. Besides, we all thought she was dead.”
“Well, she won’t get to use her skills—for a while anyway,” Kim said.
“Yeah, she’s likely to do some prison time for the list of misdeeds to her credit. Although a good lawyer might make a diminished capacity claim stick,” Jessica said.
“In her case, that could be right,” Betsy said.
“A lot of what she has done makes no sense, like shooting at you, Jessica, when she had the red devil in her sights at the marina,” Laura added.
“I guess Shannon believed I was a bigger devil than Conroy. Shannon says she thought I ruined everything. She got it into her head that I called Carr that day and lured him up there to kill him. Maybe she was with him when he got that call and he was fuming about my being up there with Libby. You’re right, Laura, that it makes no sense—she makes no sense.”
“None of these women do, starting with Sally Winchester,” Kim said.
“Sally Winchester’s diary reads like a gothic romance novel, that's for sure. Suspenseful, too, knowing what was going on as she agreed to go against her own family to help the first man who ever showed her so much attention. There’s a heartbreaking apology to her mother for using her father as fodder in Conroy’s plotting at Pinnacle. After Sally started treatment with Carr, and he loaded her u
p on drugs, she goes downhill fast. Still, she was lucid enough to put a lot of the pieces together about the fraud going on at Pinnacle. She gave that diary to Father Caverly for safe-keeping because it contained information about a safe deposit box. That’s where she placed the evidence gathered about Pinnacle before she called the feds. I hope some of what she wrote brings Dottie consolation if she can bring herself to read it.”
“Yes, let’s hope so. This has been terrible for Dottie, even now that both those bastardos are dead. Lucky for her, she is so tough. She has to find a new assistant now, too.”
“Andrea Jessop and Carla Fergusson are singing at the top of their lungs,” Frank added. “The feds arrested Carla Fergusson’s boss, Pinnacle’s Chief Financial Officer. He colluded with Conroy to raid the coffers at Pinnacle, cook the books, and stash money in offshore accounts. Carla Fergusson helped them implement their plans. That’s how she knew enough to go rogue on Conroy. Plan A was to steal hundreds of millions from that IPO. Plan B was to make do with the tens of millions the culprits had already squirreled away. The yacht was part of the getaway strategy in either case. Conroy must have had no clue the two women he had enlisted to help him had come up with a plan of their own. Andrea Jessop kept him in the loop about developments in the Winchester household—even before Sally moved out. Conroy had Andrea over a barrel, blackmailing her about an arrest years before. The police never charged her, and she had the arrest expunged from her record. Expunged doesn’t mean gone, however. He threatened to tell Dottie Winchester unless Andrea cooperated.”
“So Frank, the feds must have figured out Andrea Jessop was in cahoots with Conroy, right?” Jessica asked.
“Yes, the feds launched that raid on half a dozen locations all at once on that morning when you and Bernadette went to meet with Carla Fergusson—without telling me. That included the Winchester estate where they were after Andrea Jessop and the records Sally Winchester used to expose the fraud at Pinnacle. They didn’t know about the safe deposit box until you all recovered that diary from Father Caverly. They would have picked Andrea Jessop up too, but she wasn't in the house. Conroy had ordered her to find Sally’s missing diary by morning, or else. It turns out, Kirk was the ‘or else.’ He was at the Winchester Estate looking for Andrea. If she didn't give him that diary, Conroy ordered Kirk to get rid of her. Kirk found out enough about the operation that morning to call Conroy with that heads up, while you were sitting in his office. Anyway, Andrea Jessop was out in a storage area searching for the diary, when the feds arrived. She slipped out before the authorities located her, got a text message from Carla Fergusson about Plan B, and headed to the marina in a cab.”
“Andrea had some secrets of her own, besides the ones she was keeping from Dottie,” Bernadette said.
“That’s for sure. Jessica was right about Carla Fergusson’s anger and defiance toward Eric Conroy. She and Andrea Jessop had hooked up months ago and planned that mutiny. If Shannon Donnelly hadn’t shown up and started shooting, there's a good chance Andrea and Carla would have killed Conroy and fled by the time the feds got to the marina. Carla claims they would have let you and Bernadette go, Jessica. Maybe, but they would have been improvising. You two weren’t part of the plan any more than Shannon Donnelly was. Nor could they have known you'd get a message to Peter with the inside track on their escape route.”
“Well, I imagine the feds must have had the yacht on their list of locations to hit that day, too, at some point. I’m grateful Peter got help there quick, though. I’m not sure what Shannon would have done if she’d had more time on her hands before authorities arrived. They put her on a suicide watch soon after they took her into custody. Carla Fergusson must have information the feds can use to recover the money stashed in offshore accounts, right?”
“Yes, she’s using that to negotiate with the feds for leniency for herself and her gal pal.”
“Okay, so my head is spinning. I must have missed something. How did Shannon Donnelly end up at that marina?” Laura asked.
“Kismet! As much as that grates on Detective Hernandez, it’s as good an explanation as any. Shannon took a wrong turn that turned out right. She followed us from the desert to Beverly Hills and was loitering around the hotel at the Beverly Wilshire. That’s how she knew she could find us at Tiffany’s. She overheard us talking about going back to Dottie Winchester’s estate for another conversation with Andrea Jessop. Her plan was to get there ahead of us and wait for me to show up so she could shoot me,” Jessica said, shuddering.
“That was stupid,” Brien said. “Why didn’t she just shoot you in the lobby?”
“I don't know, but I imagine it had something to do with wanting to get away with murder. If I get a chance, I’ll ask her,” Jessica said.
“If she had made a move on you in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire hotel, I like to think I could have stopped her. Where was I when she was close enough to hear our conversation?”
“I don’t know that, either. I’ll put it on the list of questions for my next interview with Shannon Donnelly, which I hope happens—never! By the time Shannon got to Dottie’s, the raid was underway. She was trying to get out of there when she spotted Andrea Jessop making her escape. You won’t believe this, but Shannon’s the one who gave Andrea Jessop a lift to a cab stand in downtown San Marino. While she was in the car with Shannon Donnelly, Andrea called Carla and left a message. Something like, ‘Carla, I’m on my way to the marina. I’ll be ready when you and Conroy get there with Jessica Huntington.’ All Shannon had to do was follow that cab.”
“Okay, well that answers my first question,” Laura said. “Last question, I promise. What’s with the sniper?”
“I can answer that one, Laura,” Frank replied. “The helicopter tracked him down and the police cornered him. They had him surrounded, so he surrendered. He’s playing let’s make a deal, too, so who knows what will happen to him? They may give him life in prison, in exchange for information about members of ‘la crème de la crud’ who have hired him. Not just Eric Conroy, but other people with money to pay Kirk, as he prefers to be called, to do their dirty work. He sure made it obvious when he shot Conroy that he did not like being called Kierkegaard! Conroy was trying to stiff him, too, refusing to pay for that botched attempt on Libby's life so it was about money, too. He also claims he couldn't just stand there and watch Conroy shoot an unarmed woman. Shannon Donnelly was out of bullets and Conroy had a gun pointed right at her.”
“That’s why I took a shot at Conroy. It sounds like I missed him, though,” Jessica said.
“It’s okay, Jessica, that sniper got him. Kirk won't be shooting at you or anyone else since the cops got him now, too.” Bernadette was trying to look on the bright side, as usual. Jessica still wasn’t feeling great about the fact that she had fired a gun at a human being—even one as loathsome as Eric Conroy.
“Thank God this is over. I will be so glad when this year comes to an end. We’re having a New Year’s Eve party, and at 12:01 I will burn the 2013 calendar. What gives? Are all of these people mentally ill, or just miserable, evil people?”
“Some of the trouble is due to mental illness, Jessica. But as I’ve said to you before most people with mental health problems are more likely to be victims of crime and violence than perpetrators. It’s human nature; good and evil playing out around us.”
“You sound like Father Martin, Betsy,” Jessica said.
“Could be, but have you heard the Cherokee story of the Two Wolves? My Cahuilla great-grandmother told me the story when I was very young.”
“I could use a good story after this bad one. Tell us, okay?” Brien asked.
“According to legend, an old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life,” Betsy began.
‘A fight is going on inside me,’ he said to the boy. ‘It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and
ego.’
He continued, ‘The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.’
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, ‘Which wolf will win?’
The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’
The troubled daughters of Beverly Hills seem to have been feeding the wrong wolf,” Betsy said.
“That was a good story, Betsy. You're right about those 90210 girls,” Bernadette said. “That Dr. Dick and the red devil, too. I need to check on our dinner, but I'll be right back.” Bernadette scurried into the house, calling out to the caterers as she entered.
“That was an insightful story, Betsy. I don’t know as much about Shannon, but it says a lot about the track Libby was on.” Jessica was about to say more when her cell phone rang. She recognized the phone number belonging to her ex and took the call anyway. “Speaking of wolves,” she said. “Hello, Jim.”
“Jessica, it’s Jim.”
“Yes, I know, that’s why I said hello Jim,” she rolled her eyes.
“Oh yeah, I’m sorry, Jessica. I, I think... I’ve made a horrible mistake and I’m in trouble,” Jim said, in the weirdest tone of voice she had ever heard him use. She wasn’t sure if he was crying or on the verge of tears. Or maybe he’d had a few too many Margaritas; his speech sounded slurred. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out if this was a personal call or a professional one.
