I rose and turned. My eye caught Detective Ianello standing against a side wall. He nodded in my direction.
When I reached the Learys, I kissed Mary’s cheek and held Geneva’s hand. She indicated she wanted to talk. I nodded and said I’d wait till she could get free.
I followed my grandmother to two empty seats in the third row. David was sitting on the side, keeping a close eye on Geneva. The guests whispered quietly among themselves, creating a low hum in the room. We had no sooner settled in than I felt a shift in the atmosphere. I looked up. Rob stood in the archway, holding Ashley’s hand. One of the Leary cousins stepped in front of Rob. I was sure they knew he’d been absolved of any guilt in the shooting, but apparently there were still suspicions or resentments, no doubt fueled by Dan.
Geneva shot a look at Dan, who finally nodded to the two men. They stepped away from Rob. Ashley walked slowly into the room. She was wearing a white blouse with a large collar and a long black velvet skirt. Her small patent letter shoes peeked out from under her skirt, and her light brown hair was pulled back with a velvet ribbon. She’d been coached well. She knelt at the bier, held her hands together in prayer, and closed her eyes. I could see her lips moving as she prayed. Rob joined her. He closed his eyes for a few moments in silence and then glanced at his daughter. Ashley was staring at Moira’s body in the casket. She whispered something to her father. He nodded and rose. Ashley crossed herself, then turned and ran to
her grandmother as Rob returned to the foyer. Mary reached for her granddaughter, hugging her tightly and holding her in her lap for a long minute. Geneva smiled and stroked Ashley’s hair.
“I love you, Gramma,” Ashley said. “But I have to go. Daddy’s waiting for me.”
“That’s all right, dear. You go ahead. I’ll see you soon.” Mary kissed her granddaughter’s cheek and gave her one last hug as Ashley bolted after her father.
Geneva looked up and caught my eye. I couldn’t read her expression, but her face looked strained.
“Pssst,” Gloria hissed in my ear. “Is that the sister’s husband?” Her dark eyes were fixed on Rob.
“Yes.”
We stayed until the room filled with more well-wishers and mourners. Eventually, I saw several people slipping off to a private room across the lobby. I felt duty bound to stay the full three hours, but after one hour, my leg was falling asleep and I was having trouble keeping the rest of me awake as well.
“Dear, let’s go across to the other room. I’m sure we can find a good stiff drink there,” Gloria said. “I don’t know about you, but I could use one. This is ghastly!”
I had to agree. “You go first, and I’ll come in a few minutes.”
It seemed as though most of the visitors were paying their respects, sitting for an hour with the family, and then leaving, but at all times the room was filled with hushed conversation. An elderly woman entered and spoke to Mary Leary. Mary started to cry and Geneva put an arm around her mother until she regained control. I gave up my seat and, carrying my purse, tiptoed out toward the lobby.
Gloria had a head start. She was standing next to a tall, white-
haired elderly gentleman, swigging from a silver flask he’d offered her. I raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged and smiled. An informal bar had been set up in spite of the funeral director’s wishes, loaded with bottles of wine, whiskey, and beer, with a tray or two of hors d’oeuvres.
Gloria waved me over. “Julia, this is …”
“Patrick McGee.” He extended a beefy hand. “But call me Pat. I’m Mary’s brother. Terrible business, this.”
“Yes.” I smiled back.
“Can I get you something to drink, darlin’?”
I usually never drink anything stronger than wine, but watching Gloria take another swig from Pat’s flask, I was tempted. “No, that’s fine. I’m driving tonight.”
A tall woman in a dark business suit stood near the impromptu bar. Her hair was pinned back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, highlighting her strong features. She wore very little makeup but was striking nonetheless. She glanced toward our little group and then seemed to make up her mind. She skirted the imposing figure of Patrick McGee and arrived at my side.
“Excuse me, are you Julia?”
“Yes.” As I turned, I saw Geneva standing in the archway between the two rooms. She moved quickly toward us.
“I see you’ve met each other already,” Geneva said. “Marjorie is Brooke and Rob’s attorney.”
“We haven’t actually met,” I said. “But I saw you in the lot outside the courthouse with Rob.”
Marjorie grimaced. “Oh, yes? That’s right—we had a meeting downtown. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s great to finally meet you.”
Geneva turned to my grandmother. “It was very kind of you to come, Gloria.”
“Of course I would come. I’m so sorry for your loss. Please come visit me sometime whenever you can.”
“I will.” Geneva gave my grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “Let me drag Julia away for a bit. I need to talk to her.”
Gloria’s eyes turned toward the archway. She looked momentarily confused. I followed her gaze, but saw only Detective Ianello lurking behind a column. She regained her focus and turned back to Geneva. “Go right ahead, dear.”
Geneva asked, “Can we go outside for a while?”
Marjorie and I followed her. We walked through another room which led to a hallway with a side entrance. We pushed through the heavy door and let it slam shut behind us.
Outside, it was chilly but quiet. Geneva rubbed her arms for warmth and turned to Marjorie. “Have you filled Julia in?”
“I was just about to.”
“It’s a nightmare, Julia. They’ve charged Brooke with conspiracy to commit murder.” Geneva’s face was flushed and her tone angry. “They’re saying the emails between Brooke and Moira are hard evidence that the two of them were planning to kill Rob. It’s ridiculous. They’re not going to release her.”
“What exactly did they say, these emails?”
Marjorie shrugged. “They’re rather vague. Implying that when Rob’s out of the way, they can split the insurance money. Words to that effect.”
That confirmed what Brooke had told me. “What about Rob?” I asked. “What does he say about all this?”
“He’s completely blown away,” Geneva said. “He doesn’t believe the charges against Brooke at all. I don’t know what to think. We’re burying my sister and now my other sister’s in jail. Why is this happening to us? I don’t for a second believe Brooke would have cooked up a scheme like this. Neither does Rob. I know she would never do anything like that … ever. Brooke was always very protective toward Moira. Even if by some stretch you could imagine Brooke planning anything like that, she loved Moira to death. She would never have let her in for any harm or danger or anything illegal. Brooke is the most loving, honest, ethical person on two feet.” Geneva’s voice rose in pitch and I worried she was on the verge of hysteria.
Marjorie shot a glance at me and then turned to Geneva. “You’ve got to stay calm and get through this. The cops can be major screw-
ups. People are arrested all the time on very thin evidence, particularly when the police are under pressure. Hang in there. I’ll know more soon.”
Geneva nodded mutely. She was shivering in the night air. “I should get back. I just wanted to make sure you two met and had a chance to talk.” She turned and pulled open the door to the funeral home and stepped inside. When the door shut behind her, Marjorie turned to me.
“I do think their case against Brooke is thin, unless there’s more I don’t know about. They’re theorizing that Moira was supposed to commit the murder, but maybe she balked and Brooke shot her. Knowing Brooke as I do, I just cannot imagine that.”
“That’s ridiculous. If so, how could she have disposed of the gun?”
“Well, yes. We were checked. There was blood on my robe. But then, I’d knelt down next to Moira and Rob grabbed a blanket to cover her. But other than my robe and the blanket, they found no other traces.”
“Frankly, I think they should take another look at Andy.”
I was on the alert, curious why Marjorie too had zeroed in on Andy, but I still wasn’t ready to tell anyone what I suspected about his dealings. “Do you have any particular reason for saying that?”
“The family feels Andy was pathologically jealous, maybe even violent, but they could never get Moira to talk about it. They were more than a little worried about their relationship even before all this. Do you remember exactly where Andy was at the time of the shooting?”
“Not really. I was almost hysterical myself. The first time I remember seeing him was in the garage after they took Moira away in the ambulance, but he could have been there the whole time.”
“I see,” Marjorie responded.
“And with that back stairway …” I trailed off. “Anyone could have left the garage by the door to the yard and come in through the kitchen and the service stairs.”
Marjorie was silent but listened carefully.
I hesitated, afraid of the answer. “Marjorie, if by some chance the police are able to build a case against Brooke, and she were convicted, what would happen?”
Marjorie’s face looked grim. “To be technical, she’s been charged with conspiracy to commit murder. If they can prove that she and Moira were involved in such a plan, and someone died as a result of that … whether or not Brooke fired the shot … I’m sure you know about the felony murder rule in California.”
I was at a loss. “No … sorry.”
“If someone is killed or inadvertently dies in the commission of a felony, it can mean a life sentence without the option of parole.”
I felt my stomach lurch. “Are you saying this could apply to Brooke?”
“Yes. Conspiracy to murder is one thing, but if the felony murder rule applies, well … California is actually rather draconian in that regard. This is very serious for Brooke.”
“I see. Then it’s your task to prove her innocent.”
“I certainly hope I can. Julia, I better get going. It was nice to meet you. I hope we meet again in more pleasant circumstances.”
“Good night.”
Marjorie headed for the parking lot, her heels clicking on the pavement. I watched until she reached her car. I heard the beep of her alarm just before she climbed in. I wouldn’t wish her job on my worst enemy.
When I re-entered the funeral parlor, I spotted Geneva talking to a fair-haired woman in a long dark coat. She turned toward me as I approached.
“Julia, I don’t think you’ve ever met Pamela.”
I smiled and shook the woman’s hand. Her face was thin, almost gaunt. White orthopedic shoes peeked out from beneath her dark slacks. Geneva looked at me expectantly, as if I should recognize the woman, but I was drawing a blank. Geneva picked up on it and said, “Pamela’s sister Sondra was married to Rob.”
“Oh.” I shook her hand. “Yes, Geneva’s mentioned you often.”
Pamela smiled sadly and turned to Geneva. “I was so upset when I heard what happened. And so sorry for your family.”
Pamela had seen my glance at her white shoes. “Sorry I had to come dressed like this. I just left work and didn’t have time to change.” She smiled. “I’m a nurse at the VA. Cardiology Unit.”
“Rob has left,” Geneva said, “but I’ll make sure he knows you were here.”
“Please do.” Pamela turned to me, as if in explanation. “Rob and I have stayed close, and I just love Brooke. If it weren’t for Rob’s support after my sister died, I don’t know where I’d be.” She turned back to Geneva. “Is there anything I can do for you or your mother?”
“Thanks. We’re really all set. We’ve arranged everything, but please, I hope you’ll stay in touch with my mom after the dust settles.”
“I will.” Pamela squeezed Geneva’s hand and headed for the main room.
Geneva whispered, “Julia, I have to talk to you.”
It was obvious she didn’t want to be overheard. I led her to a quiet corner of the lobby away from prying ears.
“My mother told me today …”
“Yes?”
“That night … that dreadful night … oh God, please don’t tell anyone this … not even Dan … my mother told me she went upstairs to get Rob and Brooke after she heard the shots. Rob of course was in the garage, but when she got to their bedroom, Brooke wasn’t there.”
I thought a moment. Could Brooke have slipped out of her room to see Matt while Rob was downstairs in the library? Geneva didn’t know about Brooke’s affair, and I couldn’t tell her.
“What if they make my mother testify? It will just add weight to their charge against Brooke.”
“I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for everything. You just have to keep it together for yourself and David and your mother.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She leaned over and hugged me. She’d lost several pounds and her arms were painfully thin. Her skin felt hot to the touch, as if she were burning with an internal fever.
“I’m falling apart these days. But I’m certain of one thing. I have absolute faith Brooke is innocent. I refuse to believe otherwise. Have you been able to learn anything more?”
I stalled. “Nothing significant so far, but we’ll catch up soon.” It wasn’t the right time to tell Geneva about Andy and his bookkeeping connection to Macao, especially when she was in such a vulnerable state.
“I’ll try to give you a call tomorrow,” Geneva said. “I have to go give Dan a break.” We hugged one more time and she left the room.
I returned to the side room where I’d left my grandmother. Now she was standing next to the long table with a glass of wine in her hand. Patrick McGee was moving in for the kill. Gloria continued to smile, but there was a glassy look to her eyes. I stood close to her and she pressed her pointed toe against the side of my shoe. I took this to mean, Get me out of here.
I picked up my cue. “I think we better go. I’m really tired.”
“Oh, so soon? What a shame,” Patrick replied.
“Pat, it was so nice to meet you,” I said. “I hope we see you again at a happier time.” I grasped my grandmother’s elbow and steered her through the crowd.
When we reached the front door, she said, “Julia. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“What?”
“You’re killing my arm.”
I turned to her. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I let go of her elbow. “I’m sorry. I figured it was the only way to rescue you from that guy who was trying to pick you up.”
“I thought he was rather attractive, you know, big and ruddy and Irish, with that gorgeous white hair,” Gloria mumbled as we descended the steps of the funeral parlor. “But he never stopped talking!”
“Would you like to go back? I can set up a date for you.”
“I can set up my own dates, thank you very much. I may be an old lady, but I’m still cute and definitely not dead.”
“I’m only teasing you.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek as I bundled her into the Geo.
When I climbed into the driver’s seat, Gloria said, “I saw someone I know in there tonight.”
“Really? Who was it?”
“That dark-haired, slick-looking man standing in the archway.”
I thought back to where people had been milling about. “I noticed you were looking at someone. Do you mean Detective Ianello?”
“Detective? He’s a cop? Does he know the Learys?”
“He does now. That’s the detective
in charge of the case.”
“No! Paolo Ianello is in charge of this case? I don’t believe it!”
“How do you know him?”
“Well, I should say I knew the family. From the neighborhood. The father was a miserable man. He was abusive to his wife and probably his kids too. His wife, I mean Paolo’s mother, Clara, was the sweetest woman but she just couldn’t seem to stand up to her husband.”
“That’s a little difficult when someone weighs two hundred pounds more.”
“Oh, he wasn’t very big. Fat, but short. A little Napoleon. Brutal man. Anyway … Clara, his wife, could never have afforded anything from my shop. Her husband had the money, but wouldn’t give her any. I used to tell her to stop in when she could and a few times I gave her some dresses that hadn’t sold. She didn’t want to take them. She felt she was taking charity, but I told her not to worry about it. It was the end of the season and I had to move them along. Her husband was in the food business, so we worked out a swap. She’d bring me olive oil and vegetables, saved me from having to shop and that way she didn’t feel like she was just taking.”
I had a feeling there was more to this story. “What happened then?”
“One day her husband stormed in my shop. He was a nasty little brute of a man. He was screaming in Italian and cursing me. He had a bag with all the dresses I’d given her and he pulled them out and ripped them to shreds in the middle of my shop. Scared some customers away too. I was furious. I used to keep a baseball bat under the counter and I hauled it out and went after him. I was so mad I chased him halfway down the street. I never caught up with him. He just ran like the weasel he was. Believe me, if your grandfather had been alive, he would have knocked on his door and taught him a lesson or two.”
“Did he ever bother you again?”
All Signs Point to Murder Page 22
