Dan appeared in the archway of the dining room and headed to his mother. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, Mom. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. He looked at his sister. “Any word from David?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll wait with you till you hear. What did you cook? Smells great.”
“Just roast and mashed potatoes—let me get you a plate, there’s plenty.”
Dan came to my side of the table and kissed me on the cheek as well. “Glad you stopped by, Julia. We need all the friends we can get right now.” He sat in the empty chair next to me as Geneva placed a heaping plate in front of him. Dan devoured his meal while Geneva and her mother picked at their food and fell silent, as if afraid to speak of the obvious while Dan was in the room. His anger was palpable. I was sure they didn’t want to set him off and were doing their best to keep the meal calm.
I managed to make a serious dent in my serving. “Mary, this is delicious. I can’t thank you enough. Let me help you clean up.”
“That’s okay, Julia, don’t worry,” Geneva replied.
I ignored her and started to clear the plates.
“Thanks,” she said.
“For what?” I asked.
“For just being there. For being a friend.”
“Like I said … You were always there for me.” A clear memory flashed before my eyes. Geneva standing in the kitchen of our old apartment in the Sunset District, asking me when I’d last eaten. I couldn’t answer her because I couldn’t remember. I’d unplugged the phone and unscrewed a fuse so the doorbell wouldn’t ring. Geneva had forced the manager to let her in, and she stayed for two weeks. She fed me and forced me to go on daily walks with her and refused to go home, no matter how much I insisted she leave.
Dan and Mary moved into the living room, where Dan placed some kindling and a log in the fireplace to warm the room. Geneva and I washed the dishes and cleaned up the already neat kitchen. The phone rang. Geneva grabbed it on the first ring. I dried the dishes while trying not to eavesdrop. I heard her making affirmative noises and she finally said, “Okay, thanks.”
She hung up and turned to me. “That was Marjorie, Rob’s attorney. Rob asked her to help David out, and she’s with him right now. She’s giving him a lift home. They’ll be here any minute. I’ll know more when I have a chance to talk to him.”
Dan stuck his head into the kitchen. “Was that David? He’s on his way home?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll head out then. Just wanted to make sure you and Mom were okay.” He shrugged into his jacket and walked down the hall to the front door. “’Night,” he called as he left. “See you tomorrow.”
Geneva followed Dan to the front door and then returned to the kitchen. “Listen, Julia, there is actually something you could help us with.”
“Sure, anything.” I wiped my hands on the dish towel.
“This is so awful. I told you how Dan and I have to go over to Moira’s apartment. Her rent’s paid for another week, but I doubt it’ll be any easier if we wait. We’d love your help cleaning it up. After what happened to you there, do you think can you handle going back?”
The idea sounded excruciating, but I didn’t want to turn her down. “Of course. I’m happy to help you with anything. And I’m sure you can use the moral support, if nothing else.”
“You have the address. Can you meet us there around ten-ish? Dan’ll have his truck and some empty boxes. I don’t think Moira had much in the way of furniture, but we’ll have to empty the apartment somehow.”
“I’ll be there.”
We heard the front door open and then slam shut. Geneva rushed out to the hallway. I peeked around the corner and saw her hugging David tightly. His hair was sticking up in places where he’d run a hand through it. He followed Geneva into the kitchen and slumped into a chair. Geneva placed a plate of food she’d kept warm in the oven in front of him.
“Honey, I don’t think I can eat.”
“What did they want you there for?”
“I feel like such an idiot. They found out.” David looked over at me. “I guess Geneva’s already told you. Brooke’s neighbor is an insomniac and awake most nights. I drove Geneva’s car over and the neighbor saw me in the access alley. He watched me go into the garage.”
“Oh no!” Geneva cried.
“It’s just as well. I told them about my missing gun too.” David removed his glasses and wiped them on a handkerchief. “It was pretty stupid. I should have talked to them and told them about going to Brooke’s right away. But in all honesty, I didn’t even remember about the gun or look for it until late yesterday. When I got the car, I remembered I’d hidden it in the trunk.
I was thankful for Geneva’s sake the police weren’t making any moves to arrest David. “Did this neighbor happen to see anyone else entering or leaving the garage?” I asked.
“That I don’t know. They don’t exactly share information,” he replied caustically.
It was obvious Geneva wanted to be alone with her new husband. I made my excuses. “It’s getting late. I should get going.”
Geneva nodded and followed me to the front door. I peeked into the living room. Mary had dozed off in her chair in front of the fire.
“Julia, I want to apologize again about last night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings about astrology.” She reached into her pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper. “Here’s everyone’s birth information. I wrote it all out. I still need to ask David for his time and find Dan’s time … I think he was born in the morning. I know Rob’s a Libra, and maybe I can even find Andy’s information. My mother has some papers in a file cabinet in the garage, and I think Rob’s birth certificate is there. I’ll call you.”
I slipped the paper into my purse. “I’m really not trying to make a believer out of you. I just know it works.”
“Maybe you could have a good look at Moira’s chart? It might give us something.”
“I definitely will. Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy to do anything—but it might not provide any clarity.” I hesitated. “I guess part of me is a little afraid that you might not like what you hear.”
“I don’t care. I just want you to be straight with me. Tell me what you see. You know the Catholic Church forbids astrology, don’t you?”
I laughed. “I guess. But I don’t believe any religion has a monopoly on the unknown. Human beings are wondrous creatures, terribly complicated, and amazingly creative, and whatever’s beyond our physical reality can’t be neatly put into a form of dogma.”
We hugged and said our goodbyes and I descended the stairway to the sidewalk. Outside, the fog had thickened. I turned up the collar of my jacket and hurried to my car. The Avenues were socked in, and I could hear the foghorns in the straits. As I drove over the hill to my apartment, I remembered today’s date. Midsummer’s Eve, the longest day of the year. In my neighborhood it looked more like winter solstice.
Once inside, I locked my front door and called out to Wizard. His bell tinkled as he jumped off a chair in the living room and came to greet me on the stairway. I picked him up and carried him to the kitchen, where I closed the kitty hatch. I dumped my purse in the office and checked the answering machine. Nothing new. I stripped off my clothes and slipped into my thrift shop Chinese robe and flip-flops. I felt better immediately. My head had stopped throbbing and the lump on the back of my head was slightly smaller.
I was relieved Geneva had gotten over her snit of the night before, but I still thought David’s behavior the night of the wedding was a little strange. Maybe he’d had post-wedding jitters and really couldn’t wind down. Maybe it was absolutely true that he’d simply wanted to make sure their cruise tickets and info didn’t get misplaced. It was a moot point now anyway. He and Geneva weren’t going anywhere. I pictured him in my mind’s eye, with his fair hair and wire-rimm
ed glasses. He certainly seemed like a gentle soul. Geneva’s family loved him, and frankly I couldn’t imagine his ever hurting anyone. And what possible motive would he have had to kill Moira?
No matter what, we were all under suspicion. Other than Rob, who was already in the garage, anyone in the house could have left an upstairs bedroom, shot Moira, and returned by the back stairway. The real question was, what would the autopsy reveal? Did Moira die from a bullet fired by Rob’s gun? And how could anyone who hadn’t left the premises make another gun disappear?
sixteen
If possible, the building on Guerrero looked even more dilapidated in the morning light. The front door stood open, still listing on its hinges. Dan’s electrical truck, loaded with side tool boxes, was parked in front, blocking the driveway. Large red lettering proclaimed Dan Leary Electrical Contractor—39th and Cabrillo, San Francisco. The bed of the truck was empty in anticipation of hauling Moira’s possessions away.
I climbed the stairs once again and followed the corridor to the end. I knocked on the door. Geneva opened it immediately. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Clothes on hangers were stacked on the single bed, and the drawers of the small bureau stood open, almost devoid of their contents.
“Julia. Come on in. We’re close to done. There wasn’t as much stuff as I thought there’d be. I feel bad now that I dragged you over.”
“Don’t. Just tell me what you’d like me to do. The faster we get through this, the easier it’ll be. You can always go through the things later when it’s not so difficult.” I glanced around and shivered at the memory of waking up in this room.
Dan emerged from the tiny kitchen with a box in his arms. “Hey, Julia. Thanks for coming by.”
“No problem. Dan, seeing your truck reminded me—could I give you a call sometime? I’d like to get a timer put on the light outside my front door. I hate to bother my landlady about it.”
“Sure, I can stop by. In fact, I’ll be in your neighborhood today finishing up a rewiring job.”
“You’re sure it’s not inconvenient?”
“Not at all. Probably only take a few minutes.” He returned to the kitchen.
Geneva stood in the center of the room surveying the piles of clothing on the bed. I dumped my jacket and purse on a chair by the door.
“Where should I start?” I asked.
“Why don’t you start on the desk. Go through it and pack everything in this box—if it looks like garbage, just dump it.”
The same layer of dust I’d noticed the night before was still visible on the desk, but I spotted a clean spot where Moira’s computer had been. “What happened to the computer?”
Geneva held a finger to her lips and pointed in the direction of the kitchen to indicate she didn’t want Dan to overhear that I’d been there the night before.
“Take a guess,” she replied. “I’ll give you three, but you’ll get it in one.”
“Ianello?”
“Yup. I’m not going to argue with them about it. Maybe it’s normal for this kind of investigation. Dan was the one who set the computer up for Moira.” She came closer and whispered, “It’s too bad I didn’t think to ask him if he knew her password. You could have accessed it last night.”
“Too late now, I guess.” I grabbed an empty box and started methodically going through the drawers. I found several unpaid bills and a few collection notices. I bundled these up separately and placed them to the side to give to Geneva. The other drawers contained odds and ends—pencils, pens, scraps of paper, paper clips, matchbooks, all the usual detritus of a messy desk. The bottom drawer was broken and stuck. I pulled on it and the front piece came away from one side. Peeking in, I could see papers sticking up behind the drawer as though accidentally jammed. I reached in and pulled the rest of the drawer out, careful not to rip my finger on a jutting nail. There were several crumpled pages. I smoothed them out on the desktop. Tax forms. Three pages of a Schedule E of Moira’s tax return for the prior year.
“Hey, look at this,” I said.
Geneva put down the sweatshirt she was folding and walked across the room. She picked up the rumpled pages, scanning them carefully. At the top was Moira’s full name and social security number. The form listed three properties—one in Arizona, one in Oregon, and one in Florida.
Geneva looked confused. “This doesn’t make any sense. Moira didn’t own any real estate. She didn’t have any money. Why is she declaring real estate on her tax return?”
“Maybe she had a windfall of some sort and invested the money?”
“I’m sure she didn’t. I hate to say this, but if she’d had a windfall, she’d have been more likely to blow the money.” Geneva handed the papers back to me. “Hold on to these. I don’t want Dan to see these right now. He’s upset enough as it is.”
I folded the crumpled papers and stuffed them in my purse. Moira worked as a waitress and drove her sister’s car—she didn’t even have one of her own—and lived in a low-rent apartment. Unless she was some sort of financial wizard, how could she have purchased real estate?
I finished with the desk and started on the nightstand. The lamp on it had seen better days; the light socket hung to one side and looked like a fire hazard. I added the lamp to Geneva’s throw-away box. The one drawer in the nightstand—the same drawer in which I’d discovered the sapphire bracelet—contained a few loose pieces of costume jewelry and one or two earrings missing a mate. I also spotted a matchbook covered in red silk with Macao lettered in a black Art Deco style. I knew the place, although I’d never been there. It’s a pricey bar with live music that opened a few years ago on the Embarcadero. I held up the matchbook to show Geneva.
“Did Moira work at this place too?”
“Oh, yeah. Occasionally. Catering private parties, that sort of thing. Andy got her in there. She liked the people and she was friendly with one of the bartenders. She made some good tips, too.” I tucked the matchbook into my pocket to think about later.
Geneva had accomplished quite a bit in the time she’d been in the apartment. Most of Moira’s clothing was packed in bags to be taken to the local Goodwill. The odds and ends of the kitchen were jumbled into boxes with a large FREE marked on the side, to be left at the curb next to the garbage cans. Dan had dismantled the bed and loaded it with the bureau, nightstand, and a few other odd pieces into his truck to be donated to charity as well.
“I’m only taking her photos and papers, and personal bits and pieces with me,” Geneva said. “As hard as this is, I think it’s better if we get rid of as much of her clothing and furniture as possible. I really don’t want my mother to have to deal with this stuff. Oh, look, Julia.” She held up a photo that had been stuck in the mirror frame. “I have this same one at home too.” It was a well-worn photo of the three sisters lined up on their mother’s front stairs. They ranged in age from perhaps five to twelve years old, all dressed up for a special event.
Geneva covered her face with her hands. I could see she was struggling not to break down. I put my arm around her shoulders.
“What happened to us, Julia? We were such a happy family.”
We heard Dan opening and closing cabinet doors in the kitchen, making sure that everything had been removed. He called out to us. “Geneva, this fridge, does it belong to the apartment?”
“I don’t want Dan to see me like this,” Geneva whispered. “He’ll just get upset.” She straightened her back and took a deep breath. “Yes it does,” she called out. She turned back to me. “I can’t believe how difficult this is. I’m so glad my mother isn’t here.”
I heard a footstep at the doorway and looked up. Rob Ramer was standing on the threshold.
seventeen
Rob smiled hesitantly and moved into the room. His face was pale and he seemed more careworn. It took Geneva a moment to register his presence.
“Rob! What are you doing here?�
�
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“How did you find us?”
“Your mother gave me the address. I wanted a chance to talk to you.”
“This really isn’t a good time.” I could see the conflict in her face, aware that Dan would come out of the kitchen at any moment.
Rob spoke quietly. “Brooke and I want to bring Ashley to the memorial service, whenever it’s finally arranged. I think it’s important for her, and I wanted to tell you in person.”
“I see,” Geneva replied.
“I know this is a terrible time. I just wanted you to know Marjorie’s been able to get some information from the police. Now they’re unofficially saying they don’t think Moira …” He took a deep breath. “They found the bullet I fired in the wall. They don’t think it was my gun that …” He trailed off.
“Oh, I appreciate that, Rob. I know you never meant any harm. I’m just having a very hard time with all of this.”
Dan, hearing voices, looked out from the kitchen. He stared at Rob. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Dan. I wanted to tell you and Geneva that we’d like to bring Ashley to the service you arrange. I’ve tried to explain things to her as well as I could, but she wants to say goodbye to her aunt.”
A flush rose in Dan’s face. “I don’t give a damn what you want. And it’s definitely not a good idea to bring Ashley to any wake.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. Any of you.” He included me in his gaze. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you.”
“Yeah, well, under the circumstances, you’ve got a hell of a nerve.” Dan’s face was suffused with blood.
Belatedly, I realized maybe I should be the one leaving. “Look, why don’t I wait outside?”
“Stay right where you are, Julia.” Dan stomped across the room and grabbed Rob by the coat jacket. “Get the hell out of here. How dare you come around here after what you’ve done.” He shoved Rob backwards toward the door.
All Signs Point to Murder Page 10
