Chapter 17
After she got home, Hollis picked up a message from John, who said he missed her and would call back the next day. She liked knowing he was somewhere out there missing her, but having him on the other side of the country still felt isolating.
After bolting down a dinner salad, she remotely checked her office answering machine. Shelby confirmed she would meet her at the house in the morning and apologized again for going missing.
Hollis picked up a book and headed for bed. After an hour she put it down. She couldn’t concentrate. There were too many loose ends with Jeffrey’s trust. On its surface it was no big deal. The man was not rich, first editions or no first editions. Yet everyone seemed to have a secret. Now Jeffrey had his own—another son, a felon. She would run him through PeopleSearch tomorrow. And what was with Brian’s lies? It was clear to Hollis’ internal lie detector that their whole meeting was riddled with his half-truths. Brian’s lackadaisical attitude about being arrested for murder was inexplicable. And Frances, who clearly was inching to get back to the gambling tables, definitely had something hidden going on.
She sighed deeply. It didn’t seem as if anyone missed Jeffrey. His parolees cared more about his death than his own family.
And then there was her client, Shelby Patterson.
Another “it’s all about me” family drama. She would be glad to get the house on the market and sold. Shelby’s tuition was due soon and if they had a bit of luck, Shelby would be on her way to UCLA in plenty of time—family drama permitting.
Resigned that she wasn’t going to be able to solve it all this night, she turned over and went to sleep.
It was a beautiful spring morning and the drive to San Lucian hills was pleasant. Hollis had only seen photos of the Patterson house, but she recognized it immediately when she turned onto the street. The grass was overgrown, and the shrubs were untrimmed. A green hose angled snake-like along the entry path to the front door. Shelby, who appeared to be driving a rental, was already parked directly in front of the house. She got out of the car as soon as Hollis pulled up.
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” she said. “You don’t suppose we need to be worried about getting shot at, do you?”
“No, I don’t think so. Besides we can’t let them scare you away.” Hollis moved up the steps. “The work you see is only cosmetic. Kevin Gregg will hire a gardener to bring the yard up to speed before he markets the house. You ready to go inside?”
Hollis used her key. The door creaked loudly and opened onto a darkened room. Even though the drapes were pulled back, very little light penetrated the dark, wood-paneled room. She could see out the large rear bay windows that the shaded backyard had a large weeping willow in the middle, with a column of smaller shade and fruit trees along the fence line. As with the front yard, everything was overgrown.
Hollis tried the light in the dining room. It came on. Someone was still paying the electric bill—or at least it hadn’t gone unpaid long enough for the power to be shut off.
Shelby entered tentatively, as if afraid of being noticed. She went to the mantle and ran her hand over a picture of an older, stern looking woman and a sterner looking man standing on the steps of the house.
“This is my dad’s mother and her second husband.” She put it back. “I loved her,” she said quietly.
Hollis waited for Shelby to join her, and they walked quickly through the living and dining rooms. The rooms were still full of furniture but it was clear that the recent residents were not as neat as the original owner. A few fast food wrappers dotted the dining table and a dollop of ketchup had squeezed out and dried. The kitchen was dated, but relatively clean. A week-old San Francisco Chronicle was folded neatly on a chair.
Shelby followed Hollis like a shy child as they went upstairs.
There was a long hallway lined on either side with closed doors. Hollis stood aside and nodded for Shelby to take the lead.
“This was the guest room.” Shelby opened a door and went in.
The room was dark, with pulled curtains. Clothes were scattered on a chair and the floor next to it. It appeared to be a man’s room.
They turned to leave, shutting the door behind them. The next room was adjacent, and as before, Shelby went in first.
“This was Gram’s sewing room.”
The small room had natural light that gave it a cheery atmosphere. It was orderly. A mattress was on the floor and the bed was made up. On a closed sewing machine cabinet were makeup bottles. A table full of catalogs and patterns stood in a corner.
Shelby led the way out. They passed a yellow and white tiled bathroom with two sinks, a tub, and a separate shower. Towels were folded neatly on the dual racks.
The last room faced the hallway entrance. The entryway had double doors, and Hollis nodded at Shelby to open them.
The girl took a step backwards. “I can’t. This was Gram’s bedroom.” She stood to the side and pointed. “Me and my cousins used to come in here and jump on her bed. Then, when my mother died and I was sent to LA, I only came back a few times … but the room didn’t change.” A faint smile lifted the corners of her lips.
Hollis gently touched her shoulder, opened the door and went in. Shelby followed slowly behind her.
They stood in a small vestibule that opened onto a sitting area with two overstuffed chairs and a small coffee table. Opposite the sitting area was a queen-sized bed tucked into an alcove beneath a large draped window. A faux marble fireplace was centered on one wall, and across from it appeared to be the door to the master bath. A widescreen TV sat on a dresser in the middle of the room, facing the bed.
Shelby walked around the room. Shoes under the bed and casual shirts tossed on the chairs pointed to a masculine presence. Shelby opened the closet door and gasped.
“It’s Gram’s clothes. He just threw them on the floor so he could hang up his own.”
Hollis put her hand on Shelby’s shoulder and peered at the stack of clothing in the corner of the roomy closet. It was almost as high as the clothing pole. In contrast, a man’s clothing was hung neatly at the other end.
“Shelby, I know this must be hard for you. Do you want to wait in the car? I can go through the rest and check things out. I’ve had to go into many houses and evaluate the assets, and sometimes seeing the personal belongings of the owners can be upsetting.”
Shelby mustered up a smile. “No, I’m okay. I had some good memories here, too.”
Hollis led Shelby back into the main room. “Despite the upset, the house appears to be in good shape. It shouldn’t take long to ready it for the market.”
Shelby was silent as they began to make their way back down the stairs.
A door slammed.
Hollis wanted to kick herself. They hadn’t locked the front door. They both rushed out into the hallway.
“What the hell are you doing in this house?” A scowling Darol Patterson, wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt, waited at the bottom of the stairs, blocking their way.
Hollis could sense Shelby’s growing panic as she stepped in front of her and faced Shelby’s father. “Mr. Patterson, I needed to see the house to evaluate its condition before we put it on the market.”
He ignored Hollis. “Shelby, I asked you what you’re doing in this house.”
Shelby stood behind Hollis on the stairs, looking down at her feet. Her shoulders were shaking. Hollis picked up the girl’s hand and urged her to follow her down the steps. They tried to move past Darol, but he refused to budge.
“Mr. Patterson, please let us pass. I’d hate to call the police.” Hollis stood as tall as her small frame would let her.
He ignored her.
“Shelby, what are you doing? We came to get our things. Are you going to kick out your family and send us to the street?”
Shelby stood silently, and a tear dropped on the hand Hollis held.
Hollis took a step closer. “Mr. Patterson, you should have gotten your things out of here. You—”
/> “Lady, could you please let me talk to my daughter? This is your job, but it’s my life!” he shouted. “Shelby, talk to me. Even during my … my bad times, did I ever hurt you? Can’t I just talk to you for a minute?”
Shelby said nothing, but Hollis caught the slight shake of her head.
Hollis let go of Shelby’s hand and dug into her purse for her cellphone. She held it up. “Mr. Patterson, I have a 911 speed dial. If you do not move from blocking our movement, I will have you charged, along with other felonies, with kidnapping and trespassing.”
Darol Patterson glared at Hollis and took a step forward, causing Hollis and Shelby to step back. He gave them a tight smile and then moved to the side in an obvious attempt to intimidate.
Hollis glared at him and led Shelby by the elbow down the rest of the stairs.
They had made it to the bottom step when the front door opened and slammed shut again. Hollis could feel Shelby stiffen under her grasp.
Joy and Sonny came into the room and stood on either side of the entry.
Hollis stiffened. She glanced at Shelby, who had finally raised her head. Her eyes were wide with terror.
“What the hell is going on?” Sonny asked. “What are they doing now, Dad? You said we could get the house back.”
Now Darol was silent and Joy spoke up.
“But we’re not, are we, Dad?” Joy said, not taking her eyes off the intruders. “Shelby, you’re so spoiled. You don’t fool nobody with that Miss Sorry act you have.”
Darol Patterson passed behind Hollis and Shelby and joined his children. They stood together, forming a wall. Hollis considered her exit options. Her first goal was to get out of the house with Shelby in tow. She could call the police, but they would not welcome a domestic call that had yet to involve any real violence. She didn’t think just having a bad feeling would endear them either. She decided to go for option two.
She said, “Look, I know this situation is unfortunate. But this is Shelby’s house, not yours. Your mother,” she said, pointing to Darol and then to Sonny and Joy, “and your grandmother gave it to her, not to you. It will be sold, so take this opportunity to collect your things. I’ll have someone come back to change the lock again. But you cannot stay here. You are trespassing.”
She slowly edged her way down to the last stair with Shelby at her heels and stood at the corner to the entry hallway.
“Trespassing!” Sonny shouted. “Are you kidding me?”
Darol had not taken his eyes off his stepdaughter. “Shelby, Shelby, I am so disappointed in you. Things didn’t have to end this way. Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to take care of you. I wonder what your mother would think of you now.”
Shelby drew an audible intake of breath.
Hollis was beginning to feel very uncomfortable as she moved determinedly past Darol. He didn’t budge an inch, but he didn’t try to stop her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she and Shelby emerged onto the front porch. They weren’t followed as they headed to their cars.
Shelby walked quickly and stood next to Hollis. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and squinted into the morning sun. “Get them out of my house.”
In amazement, Hollis turned to face her.
“Shelby, why didn’t you say anything to your stepdad? He needs to hear how you really feel about selling the house,” she said. “I’ll set things up with a real estate agent, but he won’t have the conversation you need to have with your stepfather either. If your father or siblings give him a hard time, you’re going to need to see the sheriff.”
“But that’s why I can’t face them. They scare me until I can’t speak.” Shelby slid into her driver’s seat.
Hollis recognized the conflict in the child-woman in front of her. At times she acted like an adult, and other times like a scared kid.
“Okay, I understand, but this time you’ve got to stand up for yourself.” As Hollis moved toward her own car, she said, “I think if you sat down and talked with them, it might save you a lot of time and your family a lot of money.”
“If I sit down with them, will you sit with me?”
“No … well, maybe. But you need to talk with your family. This isn’t a legal matter and lawyers can be very expensive when used for family counseling. I don’t think your step-grandmother would want her hard-earned money going to strangers.” She got in behind the steering wheel. “Call your Aunt Denise, or have her call me.”
Shelby frowned. “Hollis, please don’t give up on me. I know you think I’m leaving you holding the bag, but I don’t mean to. I … I just ….” She started to tear up.
Hollis closed her eyes. “I will do everything I can to get your house sold as quickly as possible, but I’m probably not the person you’d want to negotiate a diplomatic solution. As for bringing people together, I’m not very good at it.”
Shelby sighed. “All right, I’ll call Aunt Denise.” She went to her car and pulled out onto the street.
Hollis glanced back at the house. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she caught Darol and his offspring looking out from the bay window with triumphant sneers on their faces.
Returning to the office from the Patterson house, Hollis was mentally exhausted.
It was only a bit after one o’clock. Everyone in the firm was in a staff meeting, but she didn’t want to disrupt it by coming in late. She would have to rely on George to bring her up to date.
Shelby and her family had drained her thinking resources. On one hand, Hollis was sorry for the young girl trying to pay for an education. On the other hand, Shelby Patterson, like many of her teenage peers, sent mixed signals of passive compliance coupled with self-interest. She couldn’t wait to file this case away.
It was time to leave for her meeting with Mosley.
As usual, Mosley was waiting for her. Hollis was waved through security, and three minutes later he was handing her a cup of green tea.
“You remembered. I’m touched.” Hollis smiled.
“I discovered we have tea drinkers here.” Mosley took a seat across from her. “So, what have you got for me, Ms. Morgan?”
Hollis frowned. “Do you ever think you could call me Hollis? You make me feel like we’ve never talked before.”
He gave her a mirthless smile. “Old habits die hard.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She pulled out her notepad. “You probably already know this, but Jeffrey Wallace has a son in prison. I don’t know what kind of relationship they had, but he didn’t come to the funeral. A lot of favors can be arranged in prison if you want something done on the outside.” Hollis noticed Mosley taking a note. “I know it was likely Brian’s gun that killed Wallace, which is what led to his arrest. But you need to look deeper into Frances’ motivations. She pushed Jeffrey into getting the trust, then three months later filed for a divorce. She has gambling connections and wants to move to Nevada as soon as possible. Brian did not kill his father, but I bet the real killer is glad you think he did.”
Mosley didn’t look up. “Todd Wallace is out on parole, and he has an alibi for the night his father died.”
“What?” Hollis said, startled.
“You wanted to meet to share and compare what you discovered with what we know … and what I can tell you.” Mosley leaned back in his chair. “Todd Wallace was released on parole two months ago. He’s living in the East Bay, and according to his parole officer, has held to all his restrictions. On the night of the murder, he was peer coaching at an AA meeting.”
Hollis tossed her pen on the table. “Well, that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have had someone else—”
“Todd was not Jeffrey Wallace’s natural son. He and his first wife adopted him as a child. It appears they had a close father-son relationship. It was Jeffrey who worked to get Todd out on early parole and find a place for him to live. Todd asked Jeffrey to keep his efforts secret from Brian and Frances. Now he says he’s still dealing with a lot of regret and guilt. He wanted to have a chance to prove himself to his fathe
r.”
Yeah, I bet.
“So, you don’t think Todd has a motive?”
“Do you?”
Hollis ran her fingers through her hair. She knew she sounded more confident than she felt.
“Detective, you didn’t know Jeffrey like I did. He was a good man. Brian’s motives don’t rise to murder. And the real killer is getting away. There must be more viable suspects than Brian Wallace.”
“Ms. Morgan, I’m not going to get engaged in a guessing game with you. In fact, you assured me that you were not planning to interfere with police business and were only pursuing probate issues surrounding the descendant’s estate.” Mosley cleared his throat. “Right now, it’s beginning to sound like you’re playing shadow detective—and I don’t need a shadow.”
Hollis paused. “I came here in good faith to tell you what we’ve discovered.”
“You came here to pump me for what we have on Brian Wallace.”
“I’m just trying to be an effective co-executor.” She put her notepad away. “Is there anything else?”
He chuckled. “I’ve gotta hand it to you: you don’t give up.” His face was instantly sober again. “Brian Wallace is our man. It was his gun and he had opportunity. We found GSR—that’s gunshot residue—on his shoes, which proves he had recently fired a weapon. He and his father had been at odds for some time. Where the trust does come into play is that Brian thought he should have gotten an inheritance outside of the trust—and that’s his motive. Finally, Frances and Todd have solid alibis and no motives. One more thing: Brian has a few debts of his own, so I hope his fiancée did a credit check.”
Hollis didn’t comment but she did barely suppress a groan. They hadn’t run credit checks on their suspects.
Mosley tossed his pen on the table. “Now that’s everything else.”
Chapter 18
Hollis had two messages, and she steeled herself before playing them back. The first was from Kevin Gregg, the real estate broker. He would be holding a broker open house on the following Tuesday. Knowing the Pattersons, that ought to be fun.
The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) Page 13
