All Signs Point to Murder

by Connie Di Marco

  “You!” I heard Zora’s raspy voice.

  My heart was thudding wildly. I took a deep breath. “I thought everyone was gone.”

  The psychic’s powerful grip on my shoulders tightened. “Babe,” she rasped at me in the half-dark, “you don’t know this yet, but you’re in danger.”

  I froze. “What?”

  Pressing her finger into my chest, she barked, “Don’t be a do-

  gooder. Keep your nose out of other people’s business, okay?”

  She flung the back door open and stepped out into the alleyway. I watched her bulky form cross the tiny parking lot, her shawls flying in the breeze.

  Cheryl appeared in the doorway behind me. “Was that Zora? What did she say?”

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I took a deep breath. “She scares the hell out of me.”

  nine

  North Beach is San Francisco’s Italian neighborhood, full of shops, restaurants, and coffeehouses catering to locals and tourists. Chinatown begins right across the intersection of Broadway and Columbus. Both neighborhoods are crowded all the time, but truly come to life when the sun goes down. We exited from the back door of the Mystic Eye and walked out onto a bustling sidewalk. Turning into the doorway of the Twin Dragons, we climbed a set of creaking wooden stairs to the second-floor restaurant.

  Red-and-gold-painted dragons prance around the walls of the restaurant’s one large room. Generous booths dominate one side, with windows overlooking the street. There were few patrons at this hour so we had our pick of seating. Cheryl headed for a booth by the front window. I dumped my purse, books, and jacket on the padded seat next to me and settled in. The lighting was dim, but the neon signs on nearby buildings glowed and reflected off the polished table­top. A smiling waiter arrived wheeling a four-tiered carriage of trays loaded with small concoctions wrapped in soft dough. He placed two plates in front of us and Cheryl and I picked one from each of the trays to start. Soon a pot of hot tea and bowls of steaming white rice arrived.

  “So tell me, what’s going on? Why did you look so down when you came to the door?” Cheryl asked.

  Our waiter returned with a new carriage loaded with different goodies. We pointed at the ones we wanted. I waited until he’d moved away to tell her about Moira’s death early that morning. It was a shock to think that not even a full day had elapsed.

  Cheryl listened carefully. “How well do you know these people?”

  “Geneva is an old friend, a good friend. We went to school together and she was my roommate in the Sunset District for a few years. I know her mother and her brother Dan. Her older sister Brooke I know slightly, although I’ve heard of her accomplishments over the years, and I first met Brooke’s husband at the wedding rehearsal. That’s it.”

  “So this sister … ?”

  “Moira was the youngest of all of them—the ne’er-do-well little sister—always in some kind of trouble, always angry and rebellious. Drinking too much, playing around with drugs. Supposedly she was getting it together and staying straight, although her behavior at the wedding yesterday didn’t indicate that.”

  “Julia, I’m so sorry. What a horrifying experience.”

  “I know … Geneva … can you imagine? She has a lovely wedding, she’s thinking about her honeymoon, and now her sister’s dead and her other sister’s husband caused it. Can you imagine how crushing this is to that family? They’re such nice people, Cheryl. They’re just very decent. They grew up in their mother’s house, near me out on 35th Avenue. In their wildest nightmares, they could never have anticipated anything like this.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me when you came to the shop? I wouldn’t have twisted your arm to stay.”

  “It’s all right. I slept a few hours at Gloria’s house, so I do feel better. I only planned to stop in and see you, maybe Gale too, and pick up my books. Working the fair took my mind off this thing for a while, but I know it’ll haunt me for a long time to come.

  We finished our dim sum and when the waiter brought the bill, Cheryl and I split it, leaving a tip. We strolled back to the Mystic Eye. Cheryl checked the locks on the front door one last time, and we cut down the alleyway to the parking lot behind the shop. I waited while she made sure the back door was secure.

  “What’s happening with your divorce?” I asked. “Is the trial still on?”

  “Yes. I’m so nervous, Julia. It’s this Wednesday morning, 8:30 a.m., Courtroom 414, San Francisco Superior Court, 400 McAllister. I have it all memorized and written down.”

  Cheryl rummaged in her purse and extracted a pink slip of paper covered with careful notes. Gale had found a relentless divorce attorney for her, who’d been busy ensuring that Cheryl didn’t get completely taken in the divorce. He’d moved quickly through the discovery process and all seemed to be going painlessly. Thinking ahead, Gale was also checking out condos for Cheryl to buy when the finances were settled. We weren’t exactly sure where Cheryl stood emotionally, but we knew she needed our support.

  “I get so angry sometimes … I scare myself,” Cheryl went on. “Sometimes I start shaking so badly I can barely keep it together.” I wasn’t sure she was as free of Frank’s influence as she wanted to think she was, but I was hoping for the best. “In fact, tomorrow morning after he leaves for the office, we’re going over to the house to get the rest of my stuff.”

  “You mean you still have things at the house? Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Gale and me. There are some things … I just didn’t have any place to store anything till now. When Gale found out my things were still there, she insisted I use the storage space in the back of the shop until I get settled again. I don’t want any of the furniture or anything. Just my mother’s china, my favorite books. You know, personal things and the rest of my clothes. When I left, I packed two suitcases and that’s what I’ve been living on for the past year. As hard as this is, you and Gale were right. I never realized how really miserable I was. Never thought I’d say that when this first blew up, but, well … you predicted it … here I am.” She turned and slipped her key into the car door. “I’m bushed. I’m heading home to my tiny cell and putting my feet up with a glass of wine. Want to join me?”

  “Thanks, no. I need to get back to Gloria’s and pick up Wizard and get home.”

  “Wish me luck in court this week. Can you be there?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check my calendar. But if I can, I will. In any case, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” We hugged and Cheryl clambered into her car. I watched from the sidewalk as she pulled away and headed toward Montgomery. Retracing my steps, I returned up the hill to Castle Alley, where I’d once again have to relive the events of the last forty-eight hours.

  When I arrived, my grandmother was ensconced in the kitchen with a cup of tea, waiting to hear all about the wedding. I took a deep breath and summed up the events of the prior night as gently as I could. When I finished, she sat still, her face pale. “How could that have happened?”

  “Happens more often than you think,” I said.

  She shook her head. “Thank God you’re all right. Staying in that house. You could have been shot. What was Moira doing in the garage? And why did she shoot at her brother-in-law?”

  “They don’t know for sure that she did. Rob believes there was someone else there with her. The police aren’t talking. We were up all night while they asked questions and searched the house and the garage.”

  “Well, dear, I’m so sorry for that poor family. And Geneva, how awful. How terrible for her. No nice wedding memories for that family. Here I was, hoping you might have met someone. And now I’m just so grateful you’re safe and sound.”

  I ignored her comment about meeting someone. So far, I’d forestalled all her efforts to pair me up.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here another night? We could watch a movie?”

&nbs
p; “That sounds really nice. But maybe another time. I really feel the need to be home.”

  “Well, I’ll miss you. It’s been so nice having you around a little. Wizard can stay with me. He’s a sweetie.”

  “No way. He’s getting too fat.”

  By the time I had Wizard’s litter box cleaned up and packed, with his bowls and cans of cat food in the car, it was almost nine o’clock. I returned up the stairs, grabbed him as he tried to escape, and put him, protesting, into his cat carrier. He howled all the way home, quieting only when we stopped at red lights.

  “Shut up, Wiz. You’re driving me crazy.” I turned on the car radio and hit the button until I found a station playing soothing classical music, hoping this would calm him down. I drove through the Broadway Tunnel to Van Ness and picked up California Street. Crossing Park Presidio, I drove straight into the fog. Droplets of moisture obscured my view all the way to 30th Avenue. Wizard resumed his howling every time I accelerated.

  I pulled up in front of the garage door at my duplex and hit the brakes. A dark figure was huddled on the stairway of my building. A frisson of fear ran up my spine. Then a pale face turned toward me. It was Geneva, bundled up in a dark coat.

  I climbed out of the car, leaving the engine idling. “How long have you been here?”

  She stood up. “Not long. I decided to wait a bit. Thought you might be home soon.”

  “Come on up. I’ll unlock the front door. Just have to pull the car in and grab my stuff. You go on up.”

  I let Geneva in through the front door and pulled the car into the garage. Wizard was silent. He knew he was home. I unzipped the carrier and released him. He bounded away through the door leading to the backyard and left me to haul his necessities and my stuff up the side stairs to my kitchen. I called out to Geneva and put a kettle on for tea. She’d turned on a lamp in the living room and was sitting in the big club chair, still huddled in her coat. From the windows I could see the fog that had moved in from the Pacific. It hung over the tops of the pine trees in Lincoln Park, lending an eerie glow to the night. I shivered and closed the drapes, then turned on the gas jets in the fireplace. The room started to warm up immediately.

  “Tea will be ready soon.”

  “Thanks.” Her face was pallid under the lamplight.

  It struck me that our positions were now reversed. Two and a half years ago, it was Geneva who was strong and I who’d sat lifeless in that very chair.

  When I heard the kettle shriek, I ran back to the kitchen and prepared a tray with two large mugs of tea. I carried it to the living room and placed it on the table next to Geneva. Something was on her mind, something important, or she wouldn’t be here.

  She cupped her hands around the hot mug. “It seems like a lifetime ago we were living in the Sunset above that crazy antique store, wondering how our lives would turn out. Making our plans.”

  “Antiques?” I laughed. “That’s really stretching it. Junk shop is more like it.”

  Geneva smiled for the first time and took a sip of her tea. “I really needed to talk to you tonight and I didn’t want to phone. Mom’s finally asleep. David’s with her right now, so I had a chance to get away for a few minutes. I need your help.”

  “Anything. You’ve got it.”

  “I need you to do something for me.” Geneva hesitated for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “I need you to search Moira’s apartment, if not tonight, then first thing tomorrow. I’ve brought a key.” She reached down and rummaged in her purse, pulling out

  a single key on a ring attached to a large silver M. “I’d do it myself, but I’m afraid I’d fall part. And tomorrow will be hard, with my mom and all the arrangements we have to make. Dan and I plan to empty out Moira’s apartment in the next day or so—the end of the month is coming soon—but I need you to have a look around right away. You’re the only one I trust to do it. I’ve written the address down.” She slipped a Post-it note under the key.

  I felt uncomfortable about her request but wasn’t sure why. “I’m not sure I like the idea of this, Geneva. And I’m not sure exactly why.”

  “Nothing can hurt Moira now.”

  “Why not ask David? Surely you trust him?”

  “I could ask him, and I’m sure he would do it, but I’m not certain he wouldn’t miss something important that you would spot in a second.”

  “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “Anything that would cause the police to jump to any wrong conclusions.”

  I shook my head. “That’s a little vague. Can you be more specific?”

  Geneva sighed. “Look, Moira had her problems. She’s abused drugs and she’s caused a lot of trouble for Brooke in the past. She needed to stay straight and keep up with her AA meetings, but she started drinking again. Her behavior had become more and more unpredictable. You saw that during the wedding. But that’s not what worries me. What worries me is that even though she was working only occasionally, she had an awful lot of money to spend. Andy was angry with her, and, I think, maybe even jealous. They were fighting a lot. There were things going on that worried me.”

  “Was he violent with her?”

  Geneva shook her head. “I don’t know. I hope not, but I wouldn’t rule it out. I just need to know what she was up to, because whatever she was up to got her killed. She must have been meeting someone last night. Down in the garage. Maybe Rob was right when he said there was someone else there.”

  Geneva took a sip of her tea. “Julia, they searched our house today.”

  “What? Your and David’s house? Whatever for?”

  “I don’t really know. We were at my mom’s. They served the warrant on us there.” She laughed mirthlessly. “David headed over to keep an eye on things.”

  “What were they looking for?”

  “They’re certainly not going to tell us. That’s why I need you to do this as soon as possible. Rob fired his gun because he was shot at and terrified. I don’t want to believe that Moira fired at him. And if it was Rob’s bullet that killed my sister, then whoever shot at Rob is responsible for her death too.”

  “I’m sure the police have a warrant to search Moira’s apartment. I’d be accused of interfering with an investigation if I remove anything.”

  “I’m not asking you to take anything, unless … I’ll leave that to your discretion. But just tell me whatever you find. I have to know what she was doing, and I don’t trust the police not to write her off as some drug-addled crazy who deserved what she got.” Geneva dropped the key on the tea tray. “It just chilled me to the bone when they handed me that search warrant, Julia. David and I don’t have anything to hide. We would have given them permission to search our house.”

  I wanted to reassure her. “You don’t have anything to worry about. You and David are in the clear. You weren’t even at Brooke’s house last night.”

  “That’s just it,” Geneva cried. “David was there.”

  ten

  I stared at her in surprise. Geneva struggled to pull herself together. “When the limo took us home, I crashed. I was completely exhausted. But David couldn’t sleep—he was still wired from the wedding—and he didn’t want to wake me. In all the commotion of the day, he’d left our tickets and cruise information in an envelope in his car. It’s parked in Brooke’s garage, you know, ’cause we only have space for one at home. So he had to go back to get the package for our trip.” Geneva sighed. “What irony. We actually thought we were leaving for our honeymoon.”

  “How did he get in?”

  “Brooke gave us a key a while ago, since we were spending so much time there getting ready for the wedding.”

  “What time was David there?”

  “About … maybe one o’clock or so.”

  “Why didn’t he let anybody know he was there?”

  “He figured everyone would be asleep. He did
n’t want to ring the bell. He parked in the access alley behind the house and let himself in.”

  “At the front door?”

  “No. Through the gate and the garage door in the back. I told you he didn’t want to wake anybody up. I’m afraid, Julia,” she whispered. “What should we do? Should we tell the police? I mean, it looks funny now because David hasn’t told anyone he was in the garage. Of course he didn’t have anything to do with this, but I’m afraid the police will suspect him if we tell the truth.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and swiped at her eyes.

  I had to agree with her there. “You gotta admit, it looks pretty bad. A man on his wedding night leaves his wife asleep and goes back to a house where someone is murdered. And he hasn’t told anyone but you about this until now?”

  “What are you saying?” Geneva stopped wiping her nose and looked up at me.

  “Well, it’s kind of strange. It was your wedding night, after all.”

  Geneva stiffened. “We’ve been living together for more than a year. It’s not like either of us was driven by an insane passion. I told you we were exhausted.”

  “I’m not saying I think he’s guilty. I’m just saying it’s funny he never mentioned it when we were at breakfast.”

  Geneva’s face flushed. “I don’t know why he didn’t! But how can you talk like that about David? I thought you were our friend?”

  “I am your friend! I’m just laying it out the same way the police will.”

  Two bright red spots appeared on Geneva’s cheeks. “Thanks for the tea.” She stood up and belted her coat around her.