“They found a photo of Michael. On the street. Just as that car hit him.”
I gasped and covered my mouth. My heart was racing wildly. “He saw. He saw who hit Michael?”
“He must have. He must have tried to take a picture of what happened from his window.”
“Why didn’t he ever say anything?”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe he didn’t want to get involved. Maybe he was afraid he’d have to testify.”
As much as I dreaded looking at what Maggie had described, I still needed to see the photo. “Do you have it with you?”
“I don’t. The old man’s son and his wife knew what it was. They didn’t know Michael, but they knew there’d been a hit-and-run in the neighborhood and that someone had died, so they turned it over to the police.”
“Have you seen it?”
“Yes, they showed it to me and my mother. She’s hysterical right now.” Celia, Michael’s mother, had been nothing but cold to me since his death. She wasn’t on firm ground to begin with, but after the accident, in her convoluted logic, she blamed me for her loss. If Michael hadn’t been in such a hurry to meet me, he would have been more careful, he wouldn’t have been killed.
“I can imagine.” I didn’t envy Maggie the emotional turmoil she must be dealing with.
“I told you before, Julia, she’s made a shrine of Michael’s room and I’m so worried about her. She never wants to go out or do anything. Once in a while I manage to drag her to a restaurant for brunch or something, but even her old friends have given up calling her.”
“What can they tell from the photo?”
“Not much. Michael is lying on his side on the street, and …” Maggie’s voice shook. “And you can just see the edge of the car. It’s dark or black and there’s a bit of a bumper and the corner of the right rear tire. The police think the driver must have panicked and taken off. The old guy might have been looking out his window when it happened and just snapped it really quick. They’re going to try to get as much information from it as they can, but they don’t really hold out much hope.”
“Who’s in charge of this?”
“Actually, a retired detective has volunteered to work on it. The case was never closed, but this is the first thing they’ve had to go on at all. I can get you the name of the detective in charge downtown, and maybe he’ll give you more information. I’ll let him know you might want to talk to him.”
“Thanks, Maggie.” My heart sank. In all this time, no witnesses to the accident had come forward. One woman at the end of the block remembered a dark vehicle traveling fast, but she couldn’t swear it had anything at all to do with the car that had hit Michael. “We shouldn’t get our hopes up.”
“I want some answers, Julia!” Maggie’s voice had risen. “And I’m sure you do too. It’s not right. What this has done to our family, to me, to you. All our lives have been changed because of this. I want to see someone pay for what they did.”
I nodded. “I do too. It won’t change anything. It won’t bring him back. But you’re right. We’ve all gone through so much …”
“I have to go.” Maggie stood suddenly and I realized she hadn’t even taken her coat off. “I’m staying at my mom’s for a little while. I’m so worried about her. I don’t like the thought of her being all alone in that big house.”
“Okay. Stay in touch and let me know what you find out?”
“I will.” Maggie leaned toward me and I put my arms around her, holding her tight. I felt her chest rise, a quiet sob. “I’m sorry to arrive on your doorstep like this, but I had to tell you face to face.”
“I’m glad you did, Maggie. I’m glad you did. And maybe we’ll learn more.”
Maggie pulled away. I could see tears forming in her eyes as she rushed down the stairs.
eight
I slumped down on a kitchen chair. I was stunned by Maggie’s news and needed to sort out my feelings. In a very strange way I derived some comfort from the fact that a clue existed, however small. That maybe there was a logic to this crime. That someone out there, someone older, experienced, with resources, would be working on a case that had undoubtedly been shifted to a back burner. I had no doubt the police wanted to catch the driver who had struck Michael, but in spite of their best efforts there was so little to go on. Maggie was upset, but I hoped the possibility of solving Michael’s murder would give us all some measure of peace. The phone rang and I grabbed the extension in the kitchen.
“Don’t tell me you forgot about the show tonight? I thought you were coming early to give me moral support?”
It was Gale. I took a deep breath. “Of course I didn’t forget! I did leave you a message asking what time you wanted me there.”
“You sound funny. What’s wrong?”
There was no way I could recount the swarm of emotions I was feeling after Maggie’s visit. Especially right now. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Well, just get down here. I’m having a nervous breakdown. Cheryl’s not here yet either.”
Gale hosts her events at her own expense, a fact which makes me gag, since I have never been tempted to spend a dime on any of the work she so proudly hypes. But the artists are happy and Gale takes a cut. A win-win situation for all. Her hysteria on the phone probably meant the catering company hadn’t brought the correct wine or the color of the filters on the dramatic overhead lighting was wrong. I needed to hustle down there and be sure I was dressed to the nines.
“I’m on my way.” I crossed my fingers behind my back and determined to push all thoughts of Maggie’s photo out of my mind. I had to get through the evening, but most of all, I didn’t want to rain on Gale’s parade.
“Just get here,” she hissed. “Please … I’m nervous and I need you.” She hung up.
I stripped my clothes off in the bedroom and hurried down the hall to the storage closet. Gloria had been a seamstress most of her life and eventually opened her own shop. When she retired and sold her business, she gave me tons of clothing and sample outfits in my size, for which I’m very grateful. I could never have afforded these fashions. I pushed a few items out of the way and found a dark green cocktail dress with long sleeves. Considering how chilly and damp it would be near the water, the dress and its wrap would be perfect.
I slipped it on and found a pair of bronzy-green strappy sandals. Most days it’s a struggle to make my thick, unruly hair look presentable and I invariably end up pulling it back in a clasp. Tonight required a little more work. I brushed it up into a twist and pinned it, a few strands straggling down. I pulled a few more strands out to make it look intentional and added a pair of long jeweled earrings. I found a beaded evening purse and transferred a twenty-dollar bill, keys, cell phone, driver’s license, eyeliner, and a small container of blush into it. I was ready; that is if I didn’t kill myself in these shoes. I could save time by slapping some makeup on in the car while stopped at traffic lights. Always adds that extra panache. I have a theory that the less time you spend getting ready, the better you look. I clip-clopped down the back stairs into the garage. My faithful red Geo started right up and the gas tank was even full. A good omen. I hit the control for the garage door and backed out into the street.
I followed the winding road through the Presidio and rolled down my car window to breathe the pungent fragrance of eucalyptus and pine. The Presidio is pristine land along the edge of the peninsula with buildings and military officers’ homes erected in the 1940s. For many years, these structures had remained vacant and untouched, a time capsule, a small town where all the residents had disappeared. Real estate developers salivated over these acres for years, but now, controlled by a trust, the buildings have been restored and leased. Hopefully the trust will be able to hold out forever.
I exited at Marina Drive before the road continued on toward the Golden Gate Bridge. I veered into the For
t Mason Center and grabbed a ticket from the dispenser at the kiosk. Other events were in progress here as well and parking looked scarce. I finally found a spot at the rear of the last building and backed in, my car facing an unused pier. Water lapped quietly around the pilings and seagulls shrieked overhead, occasionally dive-bombing for crumbs.
Fog, like cotton batting, had settled over the spires of the Bridge in the distance, biding its time before creeping ashore. I leaned back in the car seat for a moment and closed my eyes, savoring the smell of moldering ancient wood and sea. I personally thought Gale was a little nuts to be getting so involved in the art scene, but it seemed to make her happy and I had girlfriend duty, so I finally roused myself, strappy sandals and all, and walked carefully on cobblestones around to the front entrance, where a caterer’s truck was parked. I climbed the wooden steps to the long loading dock.
Inside the building, two men stood on ladders, calling orders to others who were moving about the floor. White drapes covered six large pieces of what I could only assume were sculptures. The workmen were struggling to place spotlights, aiming them at the artwork from angles that would create the best effect. I approached one of the draped sculptures and was in the process of lifting up the sheet to see what the surprise would be when Gale spotted me.
“Oh, Julia, I’m so glad you’re here. Isn’t this exciting?” she breathed happily. Tall and glamorous, tonight Gale was wearing a slinky deep-red number with a garnet necklace that set off her dark hair beautifully.
Even though I always find these events a little tiresome and pompous and was sure this one would be no different, loyalty to my friend dictated keeping my mouth shut. “Hmm,” I replied noncommittally. I didn’t know how far her flirtation with Luca had gone, but I planned to find out. “What can I do?”
“The catering truck just pulled up. I want you to supervise and let them know where to set up the tables for the wine and champagne and the hors d’oeuvres, okay? I want the tables at the other end of the space so people have to pass by the sculptures to get their free drinks and eats.”
At the mention of the possibility of food, my stomach rumbled. With the exception of a cracker and a bit of cheese, I hadn’t eaten since lunch.
“Will do,” I replied as Gale hurried away. I spotted a young guy wearing a white jacket and black pants. He had an earring in one ear and a haircut that caused his white-blond hair to stand up in spiky bursts. I waved to him and headed in his direction.
“Are you the forward scout?”
“Yeah, the rest of the guys are outside unloading the truck.”
I extended my hand. “My name’s Julia. What’s yours?”
“Eddie. Eddie McNamara.”
“Are you the bartender?”
“Naw, he’ll be here in a little bit after we set up the bar. I just work for the catering company. Parties in Motion. I’m really an artist.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Is this an art show?” He sounded impressed.
“I guess so. You’ll have to tell me what you think of it later, okay?”
“Deal. Where do you want the tables set up?”
I pointed to the other end of the space. “At that end, facing the sculptures.”
“Okay.” Eddie walked back out to the loading dock and started waving his arms at six people carrying in long tables and various containers. They looked like they knew more about what was happening than I did, so I left them to do their thing, telling Eddie I’d check everything in a little while.
I wandered over to the other end of the space where Gale was directing the draping of deep purple- and plum-colored sheets of fabric around the white walls.
“Hey, what do you think?”
“Impressive. I really like that color!”
“It’ll work, I think.”
“Anything else I can do, other than check on the caterers in a little bit?”
“No. Oh wait, yeah, one more thing. In the trunk of my car are some standalone signs that say ‘Reserved Parking.’ Can you put them in the parking spaces at the front that are closest to the entrance?”
“You got it.”
“You’re a doll. And I promise not to run you ragged.”
By the time I found Gale’s keys, found her car, which I then decided to drive to the front of the building, and hauled out all the signs and placed them where she’d indicated, I remembered the caterers. I pulled her car around to the side of the building and went back up the wooden stairs to the entrance. Eddie and crew had done a very thorough job. The portable bar was set up in the corner with two long tables hugging the walls on either side. Red and white wines and champagnes of various kinds were available. Trays were arranged on three levels and the tables groaned with the weight of tiny quiches, smoked salmon, cheeses, crackers, bruschetta, and fruit. Gourds and dried flowers decorated the spaces between the food. The effect was very chi-chi and colorful. No wonder my stomach was nagging me. I decided to help myself to two little quiches, then rearranged the rest of the tray so the deletions didn’t show. The white-jacketed men and women bustled around making last minute touches as the catering truck pulled slowly away from the bay to park in the rear and await the end of the evening.
“Julia!” Cheryl was standing in the doorway. She stepped inside and surveyed the large room. “Looks wonderful. Where’s Gale?”
“She’s … uh … well, she was with the lighting people, but now I don’t see her.” I took a peek at my cell phone. It was eight o’clock and the first guests were due to arrive in half an hour. “I think everything’s handled, but let’s check with her.” We found Gale in the ladies room, freshening her makeup with the contents of her purse scattered over the countertop.
“There you are!” She turned and beamed at us, a mascara wand in her hand. “Cheryl, you look gorgeous. Doesn’t she?” Gale asked me.
“She does,” I agreed. Cheryl is a petite blonde and tonight she was wearing a short cocktail length dress in a pale ivory color. “Where did you ever find that?” I asked her.
“On sale at Macy’s,” Cheryl replied. “Unlike you, I don’t have a closet of designer clothes. I’m jealous. I wish your grandmother would take me under her wing.”
“I’ll have a word with her. Oh, speaking of Gloria”—I turned to Gale—“are you free Thursday evening? We’re getting together for her birthday. You’re invited if you’d like to join us.”
“Thursday? Oh, I would. I’d love to, but I’ve made plans with Luca.”
Cheryl raised her eyebrows. I caught it, but Gale had turned away.
“Too bad. She’d love to see you.” I slipped Gale’s keys back into her evening purse.
“Julia, come closer, sweetie. You need more makeup,” Gale declared.
“No I don’t.”
“Cheryl, you look fine.” Gale turned back to me. “Julia, just sit, okay?”
I allowed myself to be lined and brushed a bit more, with some lip gloss added. I’m really impatient when it comes to sitting still for this stuff and can’t ever stand to be in a beauty salon.
“You have such a great face for makeup. You should wear more. And these colors work with that fabulous hair of yours. I can’t believe it’s natural. There are women who would kill for that color.”
“Trust me, it’s natural. I couldn’t be bothered changing it,” I mumbled as Gale added color to my lips. I personally subscribe to the less-is-more school of thought with makeup but refrained from saying anything.
“How does it look out there?”
“Good. The caterers are completely set up. There wasn’t much I needed to do. The parking signs are all out. The guest book is on a table near the door. The sculptures are still covered with drapes. Do you want those taken off ?”
“No, not yet. My plan is to introduce Luca at the appropriate moment and then, with a bit of fanfare, the workmen will raise the drapes
by the attached cables and the spots will highlight the sculptures.”
“I don’t know where you find the time or energy to do this stuff.”
“Oh, it’s fun. I enjoy it. I can’t wait for you to meet Luca.”
“Mmm …”
“What does that mean? ‘Mmm’?” Gale bristled. “Don’t tell me you don’t like him already?”
“I’ll know better after you find out his birth date and birth time, okay?” I hazarded a glance at Cheryl as she fluffed her hair in a mirror.
“I will, I swear, Julia. I really will find out.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” The last time Gale had been romantically involved, it was with a painter who’d claimed to be an orphan and had no idea of his birth time. He’d told her his birth date was January 12th, which would have made him a Capricorn, but I didn’t buy it and just knew he was lying in general. Turned out he had a wife and three kids in Albuquerque, which Gale discovered when she checked the outrageous long-distance charges on her home phone.
“We’re not going to talk about him, remember?” Gale said, getting my drift. “No more Capricorns, I swear.”
“I’m sure he even lied about that.”
“Fortunately, we’ll never know, and he’s out of my life now. In fact, he better never show his face in San Francisco for that matter.”
Cheryl checked her watch. “It’s getting late. I think we should get out there.”
“You two are the best! Thanks for being here tonight.” Gale hugged us both, patted her hair, and headed out the door to the big room.
Cheryl followed her, and I took a moment to rinse my hands at the sink. I reached for the door handle, but as I did, the door swung back and nearly hit me in the face. I stepped back quickly. A thin blonde woman wearing an opalescent blue dress charged through the door. It was Nora Layton from David’s firm. I started to say hello, but Nora looked right through me. Ignoring the fact that she’d almost broken my nose, she marched into the first stall and slammed the door. Charming.
Tail of the Dragon Page 5
