All Signs Point to Murder

by Connie Di Marco

  “Now, Adele, I’d like to make a prediction. You’re about to meet someone new.”

  “What?” Adele said. “That would be wonderful. I’m so tired of this whole situation.”

  “Actually, I think it will be someone who shares the same work as you—or once shared the same work—because the ruler of your sixth house, the house of daily duties, is moving by solar arc progression to conjunct your Venus in the ninth house, the house of long-distance travel. You might even meet someone on this cruise. He could possibly be a foreigner.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, Julia. I have to admit I was so scared to come see you today. I’ve been so nervous about taking this trip.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t be.” I squeezed her hand. “I think you’ll have a wonderful time. Now this is what you need to think about.” Common sense advice was always the best. To myself, I prayed that when I reached the ripe old age of seventy-two I wouldn’t be quite so foolish, or I’d ask a friend to shoot me in the foot. Then, of course, I felt immediately guilty for judging my client. “You’re in your seventies. You’re healthy, and you’ll more than likely live another ten or fifteen or possibly twenty years, given the average life span of women. You need to think about what it is you want for the rest of your life.” I pitched my voice deliberately to a more soothing tone. “You’re looking for someone who will be a companion, who you can play golf with, go to the theater and concerts and plan vacations with. Someone who’s really there for you.”

  “I know, Julia.”

  I watched Adele’s face carefully. “I don’t mean to lecture, but you want someone dependable, not someone who isn’t providing you with much time or comfort or emotional support.”

  Her eyes grew very large. “Oh, I know you’re right. That’s exactly what my daughter says.” Thank heavens the daughter was more sensible than the mother. I couldn’t help but think of my grandmother—what if she were to get involved with someone unsuitable? No, I thought. She’s way too sensible. But what if she did? After all, what did I really know about her daily life? I should pay more attention and ask questions, even if Gloria didn’t want me to. She was the only family I had, and Kuan and I were the only people who could really look out for her.

  “There’s just something so exciting about Melvin. I’ve never found anyone quite like him.”

  “Well … that’s not quite true. I have to point something out to you.” Adele looked at me expectantly. “There are very similar things in Melvin’s chart to the man you were married to.”

  “Oh, him!” Adele grimaced.

  “You realized he was a jerk because you spent so many years with him and you were required to carry the entire ball—support and raise a family. You have to remember that Melvin, like your ex-husband, has a Sun-Neptune conjunction. In that sense, they are very similar people.”

  My client was quiet a moment, staring at me, and then said, “I never looked at it that way.”

  “They’re both men who depend on women for their strength and support. After all, isn’t it Melvin’s wife who supports him?” I’d said these very things to Adele several times before, but nothing had really penetrated. She seemed much more open to what I was saying today than she had been previously. Maybe she’d finally turned a corner with this romance.

  Ten minutes before the hour was up, I said, “Well, I think that’s it. Do you have any questions?”

  Pulling out a check, Adele said, “Julia, do you really think I might meet someone new? I’d be so happy.”

  “Yes, I really do.” I smiled. “There’s a very good possibility. Just keep an open mind.” I slipped her check under the big amethyst crystal on the top of my desk. Amethyst, in the world of gems, stands for humility, and I was very aware of the dangers of wanting to be right about my predictions. I always remind myself to remain nonjudgmental. Sometimes I have to mentally bang my head against the wall, but I honestly try my best to clear away my own preconceived notions. Sometimes I’m successful, sometimes not. “I look forward to seeing you again, because I’m sure there’ll be someone new in your life!”

  Adele slipped her jacket on and I walked her down the stairs to the front door. I gave her a gentle hug and a brush on the cheek. “You’ll have a wonderful time. Don’t worry about that.” The door closed behind her.

  As soon as my client was safely on her way, I dialed the Leary house yet again. The phone rang several times. And once again, no one answered and no machine picked up. They really must have unplugged the phone. An hour had gone by while I was with Adele. I was worried about Geneva and her mother, but hesitant to return in case the police were still there.

  What were the cops searching for at Mary’s? They had Rob’s gun. A Glock. Would it be too much to hope for that Moira truly hadn’t been shot by Rob’s gun? Could they tell from the wound? Did they have the fatal bullet even though they hadn’t completed the autopsy? I assumed they’d dug the bullets that had been fired at Rob out of the garage wall. If it was obvious the bullets weren’t from a Glock, then they must be looking for another gun. If no gun was discovered in Brooke’s and Rob’s house, then someone else—someone other than the family and the wedding party—had been in the garage with Moira that night and escaped, undoubtedly with that gun. None of us had left the premises except for Dan, who hadn’t been there at the time of the shooting anyway. Well, as far as anyone knew. And of course, Brooke who left in the ambulance and returned later. And who in that group would have wished to harm Moira? Andy was angry with her, of course. But while her family had been driven to distraction, no one would have wished her death. Did the police think that one of us could have managed to spirit a gun away under those circumstances? I couldn’t think of any other reason they would be searching Geneva’s and Mary’s homes.

  The rest of the day stretched in front of me. I wandered around the apartment, unsure what to do next. I gave Wizard a bit more food and poured a cup of coffee. Was there anything I could do to help Geneva? If I had the family’s birth information, perhaps it would tell me something and I could use the one skill I did have.

  Work had been piling up on my desk for the past week or so. Wedding rehearsals and dress fittings and such had cut into my schedule. If I didn’t get to it soon, I’d fall behind on my astrology column for the newspaper, something I’d been hired to do about seven months before and still really enjoyed. Some weeks were slow in my private practice and I’d come to rely on the money from the column more and more. When I was first writing it, of course, the column turned into the bane of my existence—a well-meaning response on my part had led to being targeted by a fanatical religious group. Thankfully, that was behind me, and I was enjoying my AskZodia job more and more.

  Plus, I was feeling guilty and anxious that I wasn’t accomplishing more on my next research project. My book on love triangles was quite thrilling, but I wanted to research parent-child astrological connections, both between biological parents and their children and adoptive parents and their children. The universe works in strange ways, and my working hypothesis was that perhaps adoptive parents have closer ties to their children than biological parents do. It was just a thought, but an area that had begun to interest me. Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten past collecting data. I needed even more, and I barely had the time to do it.

  I opened the first AskZodia email forwarded to me by Samantha, my contact at the Chronicle:

  Dear Zodia:

  I’m a single woman in my 40s. After a very early disastrous marriage, I’ve been looking for Mr. Right for almost ten years, and still no luck. I’m a fairly bright, attractive woman but just don’t understand why nothing seems to work out for me. My birthday is March 13th, 1973, at 5:30 a.m. in Syracuse, New York.

  —Lost and Lonely

  I groaned inwardly. Not a letter I could ignore and so many of the letters to Zodia were along the same lines. So many lonely people. I was tempted to write back and tell Lost and
Lonely that if she found an answer, to please let me know. I fed her information into my program and generated a natal chart.

  Dear Lost and Lonely:

  You’re feeling particularly vulnerable now because of your current transits. These will pass. May I suggest that because of your natal Saturn conjunction at the fourth house cusp, you are very self-protective and fearful of connecting with others. This may be due to an unresponsive father or parent figure in early childhood. The men you are attracted to represent some aspect of this, and in turn these disappointments generate even more self-protection and fear. Please think about these things and, perhaps with professional help, delve into these childhood issues. I truly believe this is the way out of your dilemma. There is a time coming in approximately four months that indicates a major emotional epiphany. I believe if you work on these issues now, a bright future is ahead of you.

  —Zodia

  I’m always nervous about sending these messages into the void. I have no doubt that astrology works and will point the way if we’re just smart enough. What worries me is my concern that the messages do no harm and can help someone find their way.

  I worked my way through nine more letters, five from males and four more from females with diverse ages and problems, before I felt I’d accomplished enough for the afternoon. I returned ten other letters to Samantha that I thought wouldn’t be the best for the column, asking her to provide a list of local astrologers to the readers whose letters I couldn’t answer.

  It was almost six o’clock. Surely the police would be done with their search of Mary Leary’s house. I picked up the phone. No answer, again. I decided to return uninvited for the second time that day.

  fifteen

  Geneva was out of breath when she opened the door. “Julia!” Her shoulders slumped and her face fell. She was obviously disappointed to see that it was me.

  “I tried to call. I hope it’s okay I came back?”

  “It’s fine. Come on in.”

  I could smell something meaty and delicious cooking. “I was worried about you. Sorry I had to run off earlier.” I followed her into the living room, where she flopped down on the sofa.

  “That horrible detective …”

  “Ianello?”

  “Yes, the thin creepy one. They searched the house for hours, and then when David came in, they took him downtown.”

  “Did they say why?”

  Geneva shook her head. “They said they wanted to question him further. Julia, I can’t take anymore. When the doorbell rang, I thought it might be David coming back.” She glanced furtively down the hallway and whispered, “Do you think they know?”

  “About David being at Brooke’s house? No. Not unless you told someone else, or somebody saw him.”

  “I don’t want the police to know. They’ll think the worst.”

  “By the way, where’s Rob?”

  “He was released from custody late yesterday. Brooke called to let me know.” Geneva peeked down the hallway and lowered her voice. “There’s something else …” She hesitated, making sure her mother wasn’t within earshot. “David owns a gun, a .22. He’s had it for years. I didn’t know this, actually—I wasn’t thinking about anything like this—but he was nervous about leaving it in the house while we were away and the workmen were there. A few days ago, before the wedding, he made sure it wasn’t loaded and hid it with the box of bullets in the spare tire well in the trunk of his car, under the carpeting. We knew we were going to leave his car in Brooke’s garage, and he thought it would be safer there.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “It’s gone. We have the car now, here at Mom’s. The gun’s gone and there are bullets missing from the box. David’s really in a panic.”

  “Ianello specifically asked me if I’d seen any guns at Brooke’s house. Obviously they know something they’re not telling you. Why else would they search your house and your mother’s house? They’re looking for another gun, and this could mean that it wasn’t Rob’s shot that killed Moira.”

  Geneva groaned in response. “What if someone used David’s gun?”

  “You’ve got to tell the police. What if David was seen, anyway? Those houses are right on top of each other. And now there’s another gun on the premises and it’s missing? They need to know.”

  “Julia, I just feel paralyzed. I don’t know what to do.”

  I could see how drawn Geneva’s fine features were. Her hair is a beautiful pale honey color, and she has perfect skin and a clear complexion, but now there were dark circles under her eyes and red blotches on her cheeks.

  “I’m doing my best to keep my mother calm. The doctor has her on sedatives. And I have to make the arrangements for Moira whenever they release her body. Brooke’s a mess too. Rob blames himself for not realizing it was Moira in the garage, but he still says he thought there was an intruder.”

  “If the bullet that missed Rob was the same bullet that killed Moira, then someone else was there. They had to have taken off with that gun or disposed of it somehow. And unless they find David’s gun, they can’t prove those bullets came from his gun. Has anyone come up with any idea what Moira was doing in the garage that night? Why she wasn’t upstairs in the guest room with Andy?”

  “Andy says he had a lot to drink, and he was so tired, he just passed out. Didn’t hear Moira leave the room at all.” Geneva’s lower lip started to quiver and she took a deep breath to regain control. She pulled a tissue from her pocket to cover her nose. “But Andy could have known the gun was in David’s car. We were all in and out of the house before and after the rehearsal. Julia, if anyone had a motive to kill Moira, it was him.”

  “Andy? Well, obviously, they weren’t getting along, maybe he was feeling jealous. I picked up on that, but that doesn’t mean he’d want her dead.” I watched Geneva carefully. “Look, if they don’t release David right away, maybe Rob could help him? Brooke mentioned he does criminal defense work now.”

  “He does. Since he left the district attorney’s office.”

  “Why did he leave? Money?”

  “I’m sure that was part of it, but I think it had more to do with the death of his first wife.”

  “He was married before? I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes. Sondra was his first wife. She died in an accident, a fall. I’ve only heard about it recently, but I guess it was awful, and he said he just couldn’t continue. He didn’t want to do the same kind of work. He needed a change. Brooke and he met about a year after Sondra’s death.”

  “I’ve heard about the problems between Rob and Moira.”

  Geneva shrugged. “She was always doing crazy things, but she was absolutely nuts about Ashley. She loved to spend time at their house, and it helped Brooke out a lot because of her work hours. Ashley had a nanny, but she also had her Auntie Moy. That’s what she used to call her.”

  “That sounds like a plus.”

  “Rob didn’t like it. He didn’t think too much of Moira because of her track record, and because she dropped out of school. He just didn’t trust her. He can be kind of a control freak, and he thought she might be a bad influence on Ashley. But Brooke’s attitude was always ‘That’s my sister. She’s welcome in my home any time.’ Brooke was very protective of Moira.”

  “Was Moira working?”

  “She was. A dive bar called the Alibi over on Waller. Waitressing.”

  “If you like, maybe I can talk to the people she worked with. Maybe they know something your family doesn’t. And maybe they’ll tell me things they wouldn’t tell you.”

  “Would you? Thank you, Julia. It’s a lot to ask …”

  “I owe you. Big time. I’ll talk to the people she worked with at the Alibi, and I’ll try to find out what I can about that bracelet. I’ll do whatever I can do to help you through this.”

  “You don’t owe me. Don’t be silly. We�
�re friends.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll never forget. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d be in one piece today.”

  Geneva held a finger to her lips. We both heard Mary’s footsteps in the hallway. “Here comes Mom. Why don’t you stay for dinner? My mother’s been in the kitchen all day. She just doesn’t know what else to do with herself.”

  I had to admit my stomach was growling. “Can’t say no. Can I help you with anything?”

  “Nope. Just grab a seat. She’s got everything’s ready. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “I wasn’t till I walked in.”

  The dining room table was set with two place settings. Geneva added a third with silverware and a napkin. Mary had cooked a roast, with mashed potatoes and green beans. A real home-cooked meal. I probably hadn’t had one since the last time I ate at my grandmother’s. Geneva and her mother carried dishes from the kitchen and set them down in the center of the table. Mary’s face was pale and devoid of makeup. I wondered where she found the strength to stay on her feet.

  She sat heavily in her chair and turned to me. “I guess Geneva’s told you. They’re questioning David. I can’t imagine why. I just wish there was something we could do about all this, but I feel so powerless. If we knew what Moira was doing that night …” She put down her fork and looked across the table at Geneva. “I’m not sure I can eat anything.”

  “Try, Mom.”

  Mary turned to me. “If I could understand what was going on, it would help.” Tears sprang into her eyes. She put her face in her hands and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just so hard.”

  Geneva jumped up and grabbed a tissue, passing it to her mother. As she returned to her seat, we heard the front door open and close. Geneva glanced at her mother, and Mary fell silent. We heard Dan call out.

  “We’re in here,” Geneva responded.