Hollis shrugged. “I get it. Somebody’s going to toss an office because they’re looking for something or there’s been a fight, or as Mosley insists, out of a burst of anger.”
“Right.” Stephanie nodded. “Second, there’s a lot of pressure from on high for the Deputy DA to put this case to bed. Because the proverbial runs downhill, he in turn is putting the screws to Mosley. I’ve read Mosley’s notes; he’s convinced Brian did it.”
Hollis sat back in her seat. “Stephanie, I think Mosley is going to let Brian go. He’s got two suspects in the Todd Wallace murder that they’ve linked to Jeffrey’s killing. I wasn’t so confident that a link existed but .…” She shrugged.
Stephanie’s brow furrowed. “Then that’s curious too.”
“Why?”
“Because … two men ready to kill an ex-con and one very ordinary civil servant? There’s no money in it. Who’s got the money? There is something very un-ordinary going on.” Stephanie held up her hands. “Now don’t get upset. I know that Jeffrey Wallace was just shy of being a saint in your mind.”
“Stephanie, what are you talking about?”
“My third discovery,” she said. “Jeffrey Wallace was having an affair.”
Hollis walked back to work in a daze. Richard’s speculation had been right.
She patted her purse with the contact information Stephanie had handed her from the police file. It indicated that Patrice Leoni—divorcée from San Francisco, mother of one adult daughter, retired social worker, and avid golfer—had been having an affair with Jeffrey Wallace for the past two years.
Stephanie was wrong about one thing: Hollis didn’t think less of Jeffrey. In fact, after her meetings with Frances, she could well understand his attraction to someone who really cared about him. If Patrice was a good lady, Hollis was glad for him. She also understood that staying in his marriage—even reluctantly agreeing to make a trust to ensure Frances would be okay—was also Jeffrey’s way. He kept his commitments, no matter what.
Hollis took out the paper with Leoni’s number and closed the door to her office. Patrice Leoni’s phone rang several times before bouncing to voicemail. Hollis hesitated before leaving a message.
“Miss Leoni, my name is Hollis Morgan, I’m a friend of Jeffrey Wallace’s and I understand you—”
“Wait, wait,” Patrice said, turning off her answering machine. “Ms. Morgan, are you still there?”
“Ms. Leoni? Yes, I’m still on the phone. I’m sorry to bother you, but I understand you were a … a friend of Jeffrey’s and I was wondering if I could visit you. I have just a few questions.”
“First, call me Patrice,” she said. “And if you’re calling me, you already know about my relationship with Jeffrey.” Her voice sounded choked. “You could come over now if you’d like.”
“That would be wonderful,” Hollis said and then realized it probably wasn’t the right tone; she sounded too formal. “And please call me Hollis.”
Hollis made a rush call to Gene and told him about her upcoming meeting.
“We’re running out of time. Can you run a check on Patrice Leoni?” Hollis asked him. “Oh, and call the Angels together for Monday. See how many can attend, and I’ll make space in my schedule.”
Gene said, “I can’t believe it. Not so much the having someone on the side … I’m not a prude. But Jeffrey seemed so … so not interested.”
“Well, then we both were wrong.”
Chapter 29
Patrice Leoni lived in a Victorian flat in the Dogpatch section of San Francisco, near its central waterfront district and nearby AT&T Park. It was an old neighborhood in the middle of gentrification. Artist’s lofts and a bevy of new eateries sprouted monthly, prospered by growing word-of-mouth foot traffic and energized by popular appeal. In a few years the transition to another high-rent district in the City would likely be complete. Hollis just hoped it wouldn’t lose its funky charm.
“Come in,” Patrice said. She was a small-boned mixed heritage Asian woman who seemed unimpressive on first glance, until she smiled. Her expressive brown eyes and two deep dimples changed her from ordinary to extraordinarily attractive. She wore her jet-black shoulder-length hair in a page boy. It was hard to tell her age. She could be thirty; she could be fifty.
She led Hollis into an open-spaced living and dining room area, where she pointed Hollis to an overstuffed chair by the window. The room was decorated in a comfortable eclectic style. The furnishings weren’t fancy, but they had been picked with deliberate care.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Hollis said. “I’m so sorry for your … for your loss.”
Patrice nodded. “From what I understood from Jeffrey, it’s your loss, too. He talked about you, the whole book club actually—what do you call yourselves?”
“The Fallen Angels.”
“Yes, the Fallen Angels, but he talked about you the most. He was very proud of you. He said that if he just had one success, he hoped it was you. He admired what you had done with your life.” She looked off, past Hollis. “He was here when he drafted the recommendation letter to the court for your pardon.”
Hollis felt a rush of heat go to her face. That letter was one of the main reasons she was an attorney. She said, “I messed up my life, and Jeffrey brought me back, so I owe him … everything.”
“I’m not sure he would want that responsibility. Knowing him, your debt has been paid.” She gave Hollis a sad smile. “Let me guess why you are here. You want to know about our affair.”
“No, your relationship with Jeffrey is your business. I want to know if there is anything you can tell me about who you think killed him.”
Patrice looked away and fingered the fringe along the edge of a sofa pillow.
“Have you met Frances?”
Hollis frowned. “Yes. I’m the co-executor for Jeffrey’s trust. I’ve had two or three conversations with Frances.”
“I’ve never met her. I did see her once, from a distance. She was a guest speaker at a conference I attended. A friend pointed her out. She seemed … self-possessed.”
Hollis nodded.
Now that’s an apt description.
“I loved Jeffrey and he loved me. Not enough to leave Frances, but enough to make me happy to settle for being his mistress.”
Jeffrey?
As if reading Hollis’ thoughts, she got up and stood by the brick fireplace that took up half of one wall. “Oh, I know he wasn’t handsome or debonair. But he was witty, kind, funny … funny and ….”
She burst into tears.
Hollis looked around and spotted a box of tissue on the dining room table. She brought the box over to Patrice, who smiled in embarrassment and gratitude.
“Jeffrey would hate this.” She gently blew her nose. “He was not a sentimental man.”
“No, he absolutely wasn’t.”
Patrice dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. “I’m okay now. Would you like some tea?”
Hollis smiled. “I would love some tea.”
They sat quietly for the first moments savoring the green tea and its jasmine fragrance. Then Patrice put her cup down and curled her legs under her.
“What do you want to know?”
Hollis ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m sure you know that Brian was arrested for Jeffrey’s murder, but I’m not sure you know that the charges against him were dropped yesterday.”
Patrice put her hand over her heart and shook her head. Hollis kept talking.
“The police arrested two men who they think murdered Todd. They also think there may be some link between Todd’s killing and Jeffrey’s murder.”
“Todd is dead?”
Hollis closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Todd was killed a week ago. I was there. I mean we were having lunch when he had to use the restroom, and while I waited … he was … beaten to death.”
She quickly related the details.
Patrice’s eyes grew wide in disbelief. “I don’t listen to the
news; it can get to be too much. He was beaten by these two suspects? Why?”
“I don’t know for sure it was these two men, although they’d been sitting in the restaurant and I ID’d them. And I don’t know the connection to Todd or Jeffrey. It could be a prison vendetta being paid off. The police aren’t sharing. In fact, that’s why I wanted to speak with you. Can you tell me anything Jeffrey might have mentioned that could cast a light on why he was killed?”
It was clear from her distracted gaze that Patrice was still digesting the news about Todd. She got up, went to the kitchen, and brought back another pot of hot water for their tea. She sat back down, her face reflecting confusion and dismay.
“Jeffrey wasn’t an unhappy man; he had made peace with his life. He was almost philosophical—except that he would never use that word. His marriage was unfortunate, although I have to tell you … when Frances filed for divorce, he lost ten pounds, laughed more, and began to enjoy life.” Patrice paused. “His relationship with Todd was … was conflicted. Jeffrey felt so much guilt about his conviction. He told me he did everything he could behind the scenes to get that parole for Todd. But he didn’t want him to know about what he’d done. I’ve never met Todd, but I know that when he was released it was the closest I’ve ever seen Jeffrey to tears.”
Hollis sat back. This was a Jeffrey she never knew. She finished her cup of tea and poured herself another. She waved away Patrice’s offer to serve and urged her to continue.
“Now, Brian was another relationship all together. I’ve known Jeffrey for many years. It’s only been the last two that we … we became intimate. He never mentioned his family at all before we became close. There were no pictures in his office and no photos—just that silly cat poster he had the nerve to encase in plastic.” She smiled at the thought.
Hollis said, “I never knew he had a family either. He refused to talk about his personal life.”
“Exactly,” Patrice acknowledged. “So when I found out about his wife and son, I was a little surprised.” She sipped her tea. “Jeffrey loved Brian, but he wasn’t blind to his faults. That’s how we first met. I was a social worker for the school district, and Brian had been acting out a bit in high school—nothing criminal, just teenage craziness stuff. But we like to nip these things in the bud before they spiral out of control.”
Hollis nodded. “What was your perception about the father-son relationship? Did Brian love Jeffrey?”
“I think so. At least I’d like to think so. But he was so much like his father that their relationship had to meet a very high threshold, and I think Brian always thought he was a disappointment to his father. He wasn’t, but there was nothing Jeffrey could do to convince him otherwise.”
“Did Jeffrey approve of Brian’s engagement?” Hollis asked. “Did he like the young woman?”
“What engagement? What are you talking about?”
Hollis rubbed her chin. “Brian told me that the reason for their big argument was that Jeffrey didn’t want to give him the extra money he needed to get married to Gloria.”
Patrice looked dumbfounded. “I assure you that Jeffrey didn’t know Brian was getting married. I don’t think he ever knew there was anyone serious in his life. Besides, can you imagine even asking Jeffrey for money to start a marriage? He would immediately point out that Brian clearly wasn’t ready, and he definitely didn’t believe in handouts.”
Of course.
It was Hollis’ turn to look dumbfounded. “You mean there’s no woman in Brian’s life?”
“Oh, Gloria was his girlfriend for a few months, but I think they broke up.” Patrice looked past Hollis. “From what Jeffrey told me, she was a nice girl but more mature than Brian. I think she just moved on with her life. That doesn’t mean he couldn’t be seeing someone else that his father didn’t know about.”
Named Gloria.
“So what do you think they argued over?”
Patrice shrugged. “Jeffrey loved Brian, but he was always pushing him to achieve. He would say that he could be the janitor, but be the best janitor.” She sighed. “Brian preferred to take shortcuts. He didn’t want to work as hard as his father, but he wanted the rewards and recognition.”
Hollis nodded in understanding. “So you think Brian was after Jeffrey to give him money for some shortcut?”
“I can’t say for sure.” Patrice took a deep breath. “Brian had come to Jeffrey weeks ago, wanting to go into a startup business with a friend. Brian felt he could get his life focused if he worked for himself. Jeffrey drew a line in the sand; he said he would help Brian but not carry him. He told him he should come up with own resources to turn his life around.”
Hollis noticed that Patrice’s words were coming slower with each mention of Jeffrey’s name. Her eyes were beginning to tear up again.
“I should be going,” Hollis said. She picked up her purse. “Thank you for seeing me. Again, I … I’m sorry for your loss.”
Patrice gave Hollis a faint smile and wiped away a tear.
Hollis stopped on the front porch and turned back. “Patrice, did Brian know about you and his father?”
She looked puzzled. “Goodness, I hope not.”
Chapter 30
Hollis finished briefing the Fallen Angels on her findings. They were all there except for Miller, who had to finish a project for work.
“Wow, who knew?” Rena murmured.
Gene said, “This is a lot to digest. Let’s go over one bit of information at a time.”
“Right.” Richard nodded. “The un-tossed office …. I think those two guys just wanted Todd. None of us think these two guys were disgruntled parolees. But there is the chance they were doing a prison buddy a payback favor and Jeffrey was caught off guard.”
“It doesn’t hold up,” Rena said. “First, the county building is secure. Jeffrey would have had to let the guys in—no way. Second, the police report says Jeffrey was shot up close. So, he likely knew his killer. Third, anyone who had Jeffrey for a parole officer and was headed back would have known that he played it by the book. There was a paper trail to justify his order. And they would know they’d be the first ones the police would look to. I think he was murdered because it was personal.”
“I buy Rena’s thinking,” Gene said. “If the suspects from Todd’s killing weren’t parolees, then why would Jeffrey let one or both into his office? He would meet them in an interview room. If they were hired, did your friend say who they might be working for?”
Hollis made a note to get back to Stephanie. “No, but I’ll find out. I really don’t think there were two guys in that office that night. It wasn’t necessary; the killer had only to wait for Brian to leave.” She paused. “Todd’s case was different. It was a public place.”
“Hollis, how did they know you and Todd would be meeting there? I mean did you tell anyone?” Richard asked.
“No, no, I didn’t,” Hollis said. “And I can’t imagine that Todd would have mentioned it either.” She wrote down: ‘who knew about our meeting,’ followed by several question marks.
They were all quiet for a moment.
Rena broke the silence. “So what was Jeffrey’s mistress like?”
“Boy, did I pull that guess from the air,” Richard said.
Hollis raised her eyebrows. “She’s a real nice lady and seemed sincere. I believed what she told me, but I had to remember she was telling me her interpretation of events. She hadn’t known Jeffrey that long—”
“But it sounds like she knew him well,” Gene interjected.
“That’s true, too,” Hollis acknowledged. “Still, it would make all the difference in the world if Frances knew that she existed, or if Brian did, for that matter.”
“Or Todd.” Rena asked, “Could that be what Todd wanted to tell you that day?”
“No, I don’t think so. Todd definitely wanted to talk about the trust,” Hollis said.
“So, what you’re telling us is that Mosley and company didn’t have enough to make the ch
arges against Brian stick when faced with more viable suspects?” Gene questioned.
Hollis said, “No, I didn’t say that, but it’s true. Would you want them to hold onto Brian without checking out two stronger candidates?”
“Of course not,” Richard said. “But it was just luck you were observant enough to ID the dudes. Otherwise Brian would be facing some uncomfortable realities.”
Gene played with his pen, making open boxes all over his pad of paper. “What do you want from us, Hollis?”
“I don’t know. I’m stumped. We keep tap dancing around the motives. Why kill Jeffrey, why kill Todd?” She rubbed her forehead. “The Jeffrey we’ve been hearing about is not the Jeffrey we knew. The more I find out about him, the less I think I knew him.”
“Nah, we all knew him the way he was.” Richard spread his arms to include them all. “He was who we needed him to be.”
Hollis nodded then stopped. “What did you just say?”
Richard gave her a curious look. “That he was who we needed him to be?”
“Right,” Hollis said, more to herself than the Fallen Angels.
He was who I needed him to be.
They were both ostensibly watching television, but not really. They stared at the screen to avoid dealing with the emotion they couldn’t or wouldn’t express. Hollis sat on the floor, her back to the sofa, as John lay stretched out. She didn’t know what to say. These moments of the unsaid were becoming uncomfortably more frequent.
He reached down and ruffled her hair.
“I’ve got to go to a training course in Chicago. Until I take it, I can’t get my top security clearance, and I’m stuck reviewing case files in an unclassified area. It’s only given every quarter, and the class started out full. But someone dropped out with the flu and a slot opened up. I think I’m going to take advantage and leave tomorrow evening.”
Hollis froze. “How long?”
“A week. The seminar ends Thursday, the day of your hearing. I wanted to be there, but I may not get back in time.”
She forced a smile and turned to face him. “I know, but that’s not so bad. You’d make me nervous anyway.” She kissed him on the nose. “I’ll pick you up from the airport and we can celebrate the evening you get back.”
The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) Page 21
