Less Than Frank

by Bulock, Lynn

  “Thanks, I think.” It sounded like the most backhanded compliment I’d gotten in a long time. “And definitely thanks for the dessert.”

  “My pleasure.” I got up from the table and he followed. “Let me walk you out to your car. I’d hate to think I let you go out there alone in the dark. It goes against my better judgment.”

  “Why? Is it actually that dangerous in the strip malls of Ventura County?”

  “No, but when I leave you alone too long, you find bodies and I’ve got all I can handle right now.” His grin told me that Ray and I were back on our familiar footing before we’d ever left Mi Familia to go out into the crisp night air.

  Wednesday morning while I helped Buck with the dog pen work I told him about Fernandez’s plan to question Candace and Lucy again. I also told him that I could go with Dot this time if she wanted me to. “That might work real well,” Buck said. “We’re scheduled to do some therapy dog visits today, and if you went with Dot I could still manage Hondo and Dixie for their rounds at the hospital.”

  “Fine, then I’ll go with her. While I think of it, how has Frankie Collins done helping you?” This was the first time I’d worked in the pens since Monday morning now that Buck had started training Frankie.

  “He prefers Frank, Jr. now. The kid is growing up too fast, I think, but most boys would in his situation. He’s caught on quick to most of the work, but it’s easy to see he’s never done anything like manual labor before. And he’s very interested in the investigation into his dad’s death.”

  I shivered a little. “Sounds a bit grim.”

  Buck shrugged. “I think it goes with that growing up fast. He wants to make sure he’s safe, and his mom and sisters are safe, and he figures that if the police arrest somebody for the murder, they can all rest easier.”

  It saddened me to think a boy of only thirteen had to think about things like that, and I told Buck that. “Don’t think he’s only interested in that, Gracie Lee. We also talked about who’s going to be in the Super Bowl and what the so-called music was that was thumping out of the headphones he wore. He’s still a kid.”

  That made me feel a little better as I went back to the apartment. By noon Dot called to tell me that we were on for three in Camarillo. “I’m not sure how much more Candace or Lucy could possibly tell that detective, but I don’t see how asking more questions would hurt any, either,” she said. “At first I worried that all this would upset Candace, but she seems calmer about everything the more she talks about Frank.”

  I offered to drive this time, and Dot agreed. The trip home would likely put us on the 101, a major freeway, at rush hour and I knew how she disliked that. “To make up for it I’ll drive tomorrow night when we go to church to pack shoeboxes.”

  “Great. We’ll be even then,” I told her before we hung up. Then I dug around the apartment for my contribution to those shoeboxes because I’d totally forgotten until Dot mentioned it that the Christian Friends were slated to help pack personal care boxes for women and children at homeless shelters around the county. Different small groups in the church helped with the project before the holidays and we had agreed that this sounded like a great service project for Christian Friends. Somewhere I had a dozen washcloths bought at the warehouse store just for this purpose, along with a bag of shampoo and lotion samples that came in the mail.

  By the time I’d found all of that and set it aside for Thursday night it was time to change clothes and get ready to drive Dot to Camarillo. There was little traffic going there and we pulled up in front of the group home just in time to see Fernandez get out of his car. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Morgan, Ms. Harris.” So today we were back to formalities. That was fine with me, actually. I still wasn’t sure what to make of the Ray Fernandez I’d encountered last night at the restaurant. “I thought we’d wait out here for Ms. Perez to join us.”

  We didn’t wait long. In a few short minutes a relatively new compact buzzed down the street at a faster clip than I would have gone on a residential street, pulled a U-turn two houses down and stopped in back of Ray’s unmarked car. A dark-haired woman of medium height, dressed in blue hospital scrubs, got out of the car and strode over to Ray. “This better be good because I can only stay about half an hour before I have to go back to the hospital.” By the time she finished her sentence she was basically in Ray’s face.

  I expected fireworks, but Fernandez surprised me. “I’ll try to make things as quick as possible, Ms. Perez. I can’t promise I’ll be done in half an hour but I’ll do my best.”

  With that we all headed up the walk and Ray knocked on the door. Kirsten answered and ushered us all in.

  “Hey, nice to see you again,” she said to me. “And I really appreciate you coming, Estella. I don’t feel all that comfortable standing in for you when this is a police matter.”

  Estella tossed her head, whipping around a long coffee-colored braid three fingers thick. “It’s not like Lucy has done anything wrong. Besides, I don’t think she could lie about anything to save her own life.”

  Maybe not, but saving Matt might be another story. Lucy and her sister settled on one end of the table in the dining room, while Dot and Candace sat on the other end. I pulled up a side chair and sat sort of behind them where I wasn’t part of the group as much, and Ray made himself comfortable in a straight-back chair pulled up to the long side of the table.

  “Okay, Candace, Lucy, I know I asked you plenty of questions when I came before but now I want to go over some of what we talked about again.” He looked through his notes, turning pages for a moment. Then he turned his gaze to Candace. “You said that your cousin Frank wasn’t nice to you, and that he acted ‘bad’ with Lucy. Can you explain what you mean about the way he acted, Ms. Morgan?”

  Candace sat quietly for a moment until Dot leaned in and said softly “Candace, he means you. You’re Ms. Morgan.”

  “I know, Mom. I’m thinking.” How much abstract thought on this level was Candace capable of? If the communication between Frank and Lucy had been nuanced with adult meanings, would she and Lucy have caught everything Frank meant? “Frank wasn’t nice to anybody. He always tried to get free food from my restaurant and he got mad when I wouldn’t do it. With Lucy, he tried to act like he was her boyfriend.”

  Lucy became visibly upset with that remark. “Frank is not my boyfriend. Nobody but Matt is ever going to be my boyfriend.”

  Her sister laid a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Lucy. Nobody’s accusing you of anything. Candace is just telling the police officer how Frank wasn’t nice to you.”

  “She’s right. He wasn’t nice to me. Besides, Frank is old and he’s married. I don’t want an old, married boyfriend.”

  If the subject weren’t so serious I would have been tempted to laugh. Even Lucy knew that Frank was up to no good and called him on it.

  Ray looked at Estella. “I’d like to ask Lucy if Collins made…uh…advances toward her.”

  “Then go ahead and ask her. She isn’t deaf and she speaks for herself.” If Estella was Lucy’s advocate it was a little hard to tell from her attitude. Maybe she was just trying to foster independence in her sister.

  Ray seemed to be consulting his notes again. “Lucy, Matt has told me that he hit Frank because Frank wasn’t nice to you. Did Frank ever try to do anything intimate with you?”

  Lucy’s face clouded. “Estella, you said I could speak for myself. But I don’t understand exactly what he means.”

  Estella leaned in close to Lucy and spoke in a low voice. Her words were soft enough that no one else could hear all of them, but I could hear the occasional word, like “babies.” After that, Lucy shook her head violently.

  “Oh, no. He didn’t do that. Besides, me and Candace, we’re the same. We can’t have any babies. Right, Estella?” She looked at her sister for confirmation, and Estella gave a small nod.

  “Does that satisfy you, Detective Fernandez?” Estella crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to stare Ray down. It was
the first time I had ever seen him look away from a confrontation first.

  “On that issue it does, if you agree to what your sister says.”

  “Like I said before, Lucy doesn’t know how to lie. She doesn’t have the skills for deceit like the rest of us.” Was that pride or sorrow in her sister’s eyes when she talked about Lucy? I’d have to know Estella Perez much better to be able to tell.

  “Okay, one more question. Did Matt tell you what happened when he got into the fight with Frank, Lucy?”

  “Matt said he hit Frank. And then Candace’s mom took me to the funeral and she said Frank was dead and he was in that box and he couldn’t bother me anymore.”

  “Did Candace’s mom tell you that Frank wouldn’t bother you? Are you sure that’s the way it happened?” Ray’s voice was gentle but firm and I knew what he was thinking.

  Lucy looked down at the table in confusion. “No, wait. Candace’s mom just told me Frank was dead. Matt told me Frank wouldn’t bother me anymore. He said he took care of everything. I like the way Matt takes care of everything.”

  Silence hung over the table like a visible cloud. “Are we done here, Detective Fernandez?” Estella had an arm around her sister again.

  “I believe we are, Ms. Perez.” Ray closed his notebook and stood up.

  “Does my sister need a lawyer? Will she have to testify in court?”

  Ray shook his head. “No on both counts. Any competent defense attorney would eat her for lunch if she was on the stand in a trial. I wouldn’t put either of you through that even if I thought it would help.”

  Dot and I looked at each other and I could tell we were thinking the same thing. The moment we got out of here we needed to call Lexy. Matt Seavers was going to need a good criminal lawyer, and fast.

  Lucy watched Ray leave, but didn’t get up from the table. “Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? He looked mad.”

  Surprisingly her sister didn’t move to comfort her right away, but stood up and looked like she was gathering her things together. “Lucy, you’re okay. You’re always okay. But I’ve got to go to work now.” Estella gave her a brusque hug and headed to the door.

  The difference in the way she dealt with her sister and the way Dot did with Candace felt like night and day. Dot went over to Lucy, who still sat looking confused. “You’re not in trouble, Lucy. Telling the truth is always the best thing, even when it may cause somebody else a problem.”

  Dot sat down in the chair Estella had vacated. She faced Lucy and held her hands, and I could tell that she was going to try and explain to this young woman what her words might have brought about. But before she could, Candace came over beside her roommate. “Matt may be good at solving problems, Lucy, but I know somebody even better, right, Mom? It’s Jesus. He can solve any problem.”

  “You’re right, Candace. Lucy, do you want us to pray with you to ask Jesus to help ease any trouble Matt might be in right now?”

  Lucy nodded, and before we left to call Lexy we gathered there in the dining room of Rose House to pray together. When we left Candace was comforting Lucy and both of them looked much calmer again.

  “Prayer works in every situation,” Dot murmured out on the front walkway. “I can’t believe it took a reminder from Candace for me to pray first and seek human aid second.”

  For once I didn’t have anything to add to her thoughts, so I just kept praying silently that Jesus would look after all of us, including Estella at work and Ray Fernandez while he made a hard decision. They were the people who would probably be hurting most in this situation because it didn’t look like either of them had much faith to lean on in a crisis.

  Chapter Fourteen

  God bless Lexy Adams for her quick thought and knowledge of the law. By the time we were all stuffing shoeboxes together at Conejo Community Chapel Thursday night she had lined up a good criminal defense attorney willing to take Matt’s case for next to nothing. “There’s always somebody willing to work pro bono if you look around a bit,” she said as she went down the line dropping sample-sized bottles of shampoo into the personal care packages.

  I followed behind her with washcloths rolled up into a cylinder. “So does your friend think Matt’s going to need much of her services?”

  “This time my attorney friend is a guy named Brian, and I haven’t talked to him again since he met with Matt.” Lexy went over to the table where the rest of the supplies sat stacked in plastic bags and picked up more shampoo. “But based on what you and Dot said about the interviews with Candace and Lucy, it wouldn’t take much more for the sheriff’s department to want to charge him.”

  “Exactly what would it take?” Dot stood next to us, dropping small bars of soap into each shoebox.

  Lexy shifted the bag of shampoo bottles and ticked things off on her fingers. “Any real physical evidence linking Matt with the murder would be enough. Finding his fingerprints on the gun, or close to where they retrieved the gun. Or any admission of guilt he made to the police personally.”

  “They already have his fingerprints on the gun.” I didn’t know who else knew this. After I spoke I realized I might be getting myself in trouble with Fernandez again, but so be it. Lexy and her friend needed to know everything possible to defend Matt.

  “Lovely. Does Matt have any explanation for how they got there?”

  “He probably does and it more than likely related to the fistfight Matt and Frank got into. Ray told me the prints were on the barrel of the gun, not on the trigger or the butt or grip or whatever you call it on a pistol.”

  Lexy raised an eyebrow. “Hey…when did the detective become Ray?”

  Oh, boy. Now I would be in trouble on two issues. “We bounce back and forth between formality and informality depending on whether he’s mad at me or not. And we might have had dinner together at the same restaurant Tuesday night and talked a bit about the case.”

  “Might have had dinner together? Aren’t you sure?” Lexy wore a full grin now. Her teasing expression made her look even more like a high school cheerleader than usual.

  “Okay, we had dinner together. But it wasn’t a date or anything. He just came into the place where I was already having fish tacos, and neither of us felt like sitting alone.”

  “Gracie Lee, you don’t have to explain to me. You’re both over twenty-one and single, you know.”

  “That’s true. But don’t make more of this than there really is to it. Having a plate of fish tacos together does not make the basis for a relationship.”

  Lexy shrugged. “I’ve heard of relationships based on less. Of course I usually hear about that kind because one of my associates at the firm is dealing with a divorce. But getting back to the real subject at hand, which isn’t good news. Matt’s prints being on the gun aren’t a good thing for him even if they’re only on the barrel.”

  Dot had joined our little group. “You’re right. And I’m worried about Matt anyway, because I don’t know how he’ll act if the police start questioning him in a serious way,” she said. “I’ve seen him several times with Lucy and while he might be a little bit quicker than her, or Candace, he’s always struck me as someone who would say something because he thought that was what somebody wanted to hear.”

  “That’s the worst kind of person to have as a suspect to a crime.” Lexy frowned. “There are more bogus confessions obtained because of people like that. Let’s just hope your homicide detective recognizes Matt for what he is.”

  I shook my head. “He’s not my homicide detective. In fact, I’d be willing to say Ray’s not anybody’s detective except his own. He’ll follow procedure, but I don’t think he’d try to get a false confession out of anybody.”

  “We can certainly pray that that’s the case.” Dot dropped the last individual pack of tissues into another shoebox. She looked down at the row of boxes, a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, Paula’s the event chairperson for these boxes, and she says she needs at least a hundred more of them after we’re done tonight.
It’s the kind of work that Lucy and Candace could do. Maybe I ought to see if they would like to be part of a work crew Saturday morning.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Maybe they can bring some of their friends. And I’d certainly be happy to be part of the crew.” Lexy smiled, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. I wondered who Lucy and Candace’s “friends” would be on Saturday. I told Dot to count me in if she needed more people. With everyone who was likely to be involved, this was one group I wanted to see work together.

  On Friday Dot called me to let me know about Saturday. “We’re on for 10:00 a.m. filling more boxes. Candace, Lucy and I are going to grab a quick breakfast and go to the church from there. Do you want to go with us?”

  “Not this time. I’ll meet you at the chapel when it’s time to work on the kits. Before that I’ll need to see that Ben gets something to eat, and I probably need to go grocery shopping this afternoon to make sure there’s something I can fix for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Before the grocery store I made a quick stop at one of the “dollar store” places that abound here and picked up a few more washcloths and combs for the personal care boxes. I can’t afford to do a lot of monetary giving right now, but I can definitely do something. Most of my church contribution is in time, like packing the boxes. Still, the thought of people without a roof overhead trying to live out of their cars or inside shelters haunts me and I want to spend money to help anybody in that situation.

  There were a few cars in the lot when I got to the chapel the next morning. Nobody had a huge work crew packing boxes inside, judging from the amount of vehicles there.

  I had been right in my supposition on Thursday night. The group around the table filling shoeboxes included not only Lexy, Dot, Candace and Lucy, but a young man who had to be Matt Seavers as well. Looking at him in the flesh, so to speak, I could see how somebody could confuse him and Ben, especially from the back. Matt was tall and rangy like Ben and like many guys in their teens and early twenties, favored hooded sweatshirts and baggy shorts. Today the shorts had been replaced by equally baggy jeans because it was cool and drizzly out again. Even I hadn’t opted for sandals, wearing tennies for comfort.