Show No Fear

by Perri O'shaughnessy

  “You hear anything more about the Filsen thing?” Paul asked Armano.

  “Helio and the Santiagos are the only ones on that second floor, and we already know their stories. That gun must’ve sounded like explosions. Here’s what I’ve heard. There’s a grocer on the ground floor, Mr. Gomez. He said he was opening the store. He opens at seven in the morning to cater to the local winos. He heard the shots. I went around yesterday to check it out. He says he just ducked until the shots stopped. Then he hung around at the back of the store for a few minutes. Didn’t want to see anything, you know? Then he closed up shop, pronto. I also checked the neighborhood. Nobody else admits to seeing anything.”

  After dropping Armano off, Paul arrived in front of Nina’s house at about quarter to eleven. He took a couple of breaths in the car, dreading what was to come. Here he came again with more bad news, the worst kind. The lights were on in the living room. She answered the doorbell immediately. She wore cutoffs and a tight little T and was barefoot. The kid must be in bed. Why, she’s just a girl, Paul thought with surprise, sadly. She wasn’t very tall, but she stood tall.

  “What are you—”

  “I have more bad news, Nina.”

  She had already taken note of his expression and her eyes widened. “Not Matt?”

  “No. Not your brother.” Paul drew her inside and made her sit down on the couch. “I’m so sorry but…” He told her quickly and simply, and didn’t say anything about the possibility that her mother had been pushed.

  Again, Nina wept, this time for a very long time and Paul didn’t rush things. He didn’t try to hold her hand either. This was business.

  After a few minutes and many questions, Nina’s face began to harden. “My mother did not—she never would—commit suicide!”

  “I didn’t say she did.”

  “She wouldn’t have gone there alone, stood on the edge of a cliff like that. It’s impossible.”

  “She might not have been alone.” He told her the rest of it, and watching strong emotions cross her face as he spoke, he had two thoughts about Nina Reilly: that she hadn’t had anything to do with it herself, and that she’d make a good lawyer someday, the way she was holding herself together now.

  Nina marched mechanically to the closet. “Bob’s not home tonight. He’s at a friend’s, sleeping over.”

  “I need you to come with me.”

  She nodded. “I need to see her.”

  After that, she sat stony-faced in his car, hugging a leather jacket. She had changed into jeans and hiking boots. “Could you turn the heat on?” she asked once, then lapsed back into silence.

  She lost it as they drove along a winter field, bare earth now. They had left the shoreline and were driving inland. Paul looked over to check out the silence. She cried soundlessly.

  The morgue in Salinas served the entire county. Susan Misumi had checked out hours before. An attendant pulled out a slab and lifted the sheet, and Nina, as gray as the cold aluminum drawers, nodded and cried out, “Mom! Oh, no, no.” She put her hands on her mother’s face as if to warm it, then began stroking it.

  “I’m so sorry, Nina,” Paul said.

  “Mom.”

  He held her while she puddled against him.

  “Mom.”

  CHAPTER 32

  BY THE TIME NINA FINISHED AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, EARLY-MORNING fog had fingered its gray way all the way to Salinas. She wouldn’t let Paul take her home even though he insisted on someone escorting her there.

  Once home, she had a talk with herself and decided not to collapse, which turned out to be easier said than done. She sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and didn’t move for a long time.

  She saw her mother falling into an unruly wind, into the sands below, the ocean waves pounding, eternal and eternally indifferent.

  She saw her mom’s sweet face from before she got sick and thought about how her mother loved to argue, laugh, dance. Mopping herself up with a napkin, she made a list. She called Matt. Nobody answered. She called the mother of Bob’s friend and asked her if she could keep Bob for one more day, not saying why. She called the Monterey College of Law and said she had a family emergency and would not be able to make her Wills and Estates exam. She called the Pohlmann office and told them she couldn’t work today. She called her father and heard his sleepy voice on the line.

  “You and Bob want to come over here?” Harlan asked.

  “No, thanks, Dad.”

  “How could this happen?” he kept asking. “This doesn’t sound like Ginny. Throw herself over a cliff? Never. She loved you all too much.”

  “I need to reach Matt, Dad. If you hear from him, tell him to call me, okay?”

  He became all business. “You haven’t told me everything, Nina. You said you spent the evening with the police. Tell me the rest.”

  Harlan badgered her for a few minutes for details until she finally said, “I’m sure you’ll get a chance yourself to have a nice long talk with the police. Ask them then.”

  “You sound so angry.”

  “I’m not angry at you.”

  “Nina. In spite of the money pressures on us, things that made me say things, do things I regret now, I never meant to hurt your mother. You know that, don’t you?”

  How absurd, she thought. Everything you did hurt her. She said nothing.

  “Makes me wish—” He broke off.

  “What?” When he didn’t answer, she prodded, “What does it make you wish?”

  “I’d loved her better. I’m ashamed of myself. I can’t believe she’s gone and I’ll never see her again. I miss her, too, just so you know.” His voice broke.

  “I’m going, Dad,” Nina managed to say. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  “What about the arrangements?”

  “An autopsy. Then I’ll call a mortuary.”

  “An autopsy? Aw, hell.” A long pause followed. “Call me if you need me, honey.” Then he gave her four different phone numbers.

  She tried calling Matt again and again, but there was no answer. She didn’t have his number at the store where he worked and couldn’t remember the name. She went into the bedroom, crying again, cleaned her eyes up with water from the bathroom, and cried some more on her way out to the car.

  Once in the car, driving, her tears dried up. She began thinking about Paul, wondering how he managed to be both cop and human—it had been a relief to have his solid, heavy-shouldered presence there with her at the morgue. Once she had officially identified her mother’s body, he had filled her in on the rest, though he wouldn’t let her ask questions, just arranged for her ride home.

  He had made her feel like a kid in the middle of a tantrum whose parent says, “When you stop crying, we’ll talk about it.” He had an old-fashioned streak to him that frustrated and even angered her. Then, before saying good-bye, back in cop mode, he had asked for keys to her mother’s house so that the police could inspect it for signs of forced entry.

  She provided them, unable to decide if it was wise, only thinking about her mom.

  She stopped in at the office first.

  “Oh, Nina,” Astrid said, standing up, face stricken. “We’re all so sorry!”

  “Is Remy in?”

  Astrid paused. “Yes. Yes, she is.” She buzzed Remy’s office. “She’s ready for you.”

  Nina opened the door to Remy’s office. Remy, immaculately clad as always, spoke into the phone. “Don’t worry. It’s taken care of. We’ve got it handled.” Et cetera.

  She hung up, stood up, and reached out to hug Nina. “I’m so sorry, honey. So sorry.”

  All Nina’s strength fell by the wayside. She fell into the hug and allowed her tears to flow. Finally, she composed herself, stepping back. “Can I sit?”

  “Of course.”

  She sat in one of the plush leather client chairs, leaning her head against the headrest. She closed her eyes.

  “Nina?” Remy finally spoke. “Can I get you anything?”


  “You really upset my mother the last time you saw her. Can you tell me exactly why you decided not to pursue her case against Dr. Wu?”

  “Yes, of course.” Remy’s brow creased. “Nina, in spite of the fine work you did researching Raynaud’s, we had some rock-bottom, insoluble problems with your mother’s claim.” Remy went into a long, involved explanation that Nina barely heard. The collapse was beginning inside her. She wasn’t going to be able to hold it back now, and she didn’t want it to happen at the office. She held a hand up.

  “Okay. Okay.”

  Remy nodded. “I want you to know, I believed every word your mom said. I never believed Dr. Wu. But the question always comes down to, can we convince a jury?”

  “You thought we couldn’t.”

  “He’s smart. No, let me correct that. He’s canny. He had things to show and say that cast doubt on her story. And the medical side of it—I’m so sorry.”

  Nina finally found Matt at the counter at Barney’s, ringing up a couple of six-packs for a man in expensive sunglasses and a torn T-shirt. Matt took one look at Nina and pulled her into the back room.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have very bad news, Matt. Please sit down.”

  “Mom!” he breathed, and read confirmation in her face. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Tell me.”

  “Sit.”

  He sat.

  “Mom is gone.”

  “Gone? You mean she died?”

  “She fell off a cliff by Bixby Creek Bridge.”

  “Fell? Huh? What?”

  “I saw her. I saw her body. She’s dead, Matt.” Nina barely got the words out, then sobbed into her handkerchief.

  “Holy shit!” Matt said. “What was she doing in Big Sur? How did she fall? Do you think she jumped?”

  Nina couldn’t stand to tell him. She didn’t want to feed his paranoia. “Right now, what matters is she’s gone.”

  Matt got up. This time, his arms around her were loving. “God, Neen. I’m so sorry. Really? This can’t be! This can’t be! She’s dead?” He paused. “It’s got to be that maniac who tried to kill her! You know, that quack? Believe me, she never said a word to me about those needles until after it was too late. You saw at the hospital. I didn’t know till then or I would have found a way to stop her.” He waited for Nina’s nod.

  “That fucking butcher, Dr. Wu. He hurt her, and when she fought back, he killed her. They better arrest him before he gets away.” His face screwed up in agitation and his voice rose. “Do you remember her in that red dress at Christmas? Before Bob was born? God, Mom was beautiful! If he’s still loose, I’ll kill him myself!”

  Matt let go of her. He stood staring at boxes stacked against a wall, speaking almost under his breath. She strained to hear. “It’s my fault.” He kicked the boxes. “Do you know what she’d say to me?” Now he was suddenly shouting.

  “Matt, come home with me today, okay? I’ll take care of you. Please, just come outside with me. Let’s be together. Play with Bob, watch something stupid on television. We’ll call your boss later.” Nina tried to sound soothing as she took his arm and tried to wheedle him out of the store.

  He shook her off. “I should be punished for what I’ve done,” he said in an angry voice. Then, drawing himself up: “You go on, Neen. It’s okay.” When she didn’t move, he said, “Go ahead now, I have to do something.” Then he was pushing her out, putting her in the car, helping her with her seat belt, advising her to drive carefully.

  She buckled up to please him, worrying about her brother. He needed help; he wasn’t well, but it was all she could do to start up her car and pull away, crying helplessly.

  “Go!” he shouted after her.

  She dragged slowly along the road, accumulating a pile of angry tailgaters without noticing. When she arrived home, she thought at first she would go get Bob. Instead she called the office. She called Jack.

  CHAPTER 33

  JACK CAME OVER RIGHT AWAY. HE PUT HER IN BED AND SAT BY her. She could never remember later what she said that evening. He stayed there, holding her, easing the loneliness of the night.

  When she awoke at dawn, he was right next to her bed in the rattan dressing-table chair, sound asleep, tie loose, mouth open, stubbly, dead beat.

  She felt empty, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. The worst thing was knowing that from now on there would always be an empty place inside her.

  They picked up Bob later and broke the news. Nina talked about the concept of heaven, how Grandma was safe somewhere like that. Bob had questions. Nina answered as well as she could, fabricating when faith failed her.

  Back home, they dressed him in clean play clothes and took him to his preschool, where the teachers gave him a warm welcome and put him to work on a building project with some other kids in one corner of the room. Nina spoke with the teachers, explaining what had happened. He would only be staying for a few hours this morning. They lavished conventional expressions of sympathy. She realized the world had ways to deal with death, which she was learning fast.

  Jack and Nina arrived at the sheriff’s office in Monterey late in the morning.

  Paul told them much of what he knew.

  “C’mon, Paul,” Jack said. “You have ideas. Who killed Richard Filsen? Who killed Mrs. Reilly? Are the deaths connected? Where are we on this?”

  “We don’t know. Nina, we think your mother was persuaded or forced into the car and driven to Big Sur. Neighbors mentioned a white car parked briefly in front of the house, but reported nothing else that appeared out of the ordinary. There were signs of disturbance inside, a dropped bag of groceries near the entryway and a knife was lying on the floor in the kitchen, but we found no signs of blood there. It doesn’t appear she was wounded in that way.”

  “She tried to defend herself,” Nina said dully.

  “Maybe someone she knew showed up claiming an emergency, and she simply dropped those items and went without a peep. Maybe a weapon showed up, and she was forced to go. We don’t know. We have to look at a lot of possibilities, among those, the possibility Jack mentioned, that there’s a link between her death and the death of Richard Filsen.”

  “I told you they were enemies,” said Nina.

  “Antagonists. Adversaries,” clarified Jack. “In the legal sense. Mrs. Reilly and Dr. Wu. Mrs. Reilly and Richard Filsen.”

  “Not only that, of course,” said Paul. The two men looked at Nina.

  “You think this has to do with me? With Bob?”

  “Possibly.” Paul shrugged. “Don’t ask me how these deaths fit together, if they do. I won’t press you now, Nina, but I need you back here tomorrow to give us another statement. Maybe you can enlighten us.”

  “If I knew anything, I’d have already told it to you. How did she end up at that bridge? That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?”

  “Someone drove her there,” Paul replied. “Persuasion. Force. Who knows? Does the description of the car match any that are familiar to you? Friends of your mother’s? Friends of yours? Think.”

  “No. No. Have you looked into rentals?”

  “Yes, we have. We couldn’t connect anything.”

  “How about, um, the hundreds of people who might drive that kind of car?”

  “Well, we have lists that spread fast as cockroaches. We haven’t eliminated everyone, but we have nothing new to go on.”

  Jack stood up, blocking light from Paul’s window. “Is Nina a suspect?”

  “I gather information, Jack. That’s my job. You know that.”

  “I’m going to figure this out, Paul,” Nina said. “I’ll let you know when I have. You know my mom was upset when my firm couldn’t go ahead with her claim?”

  “Yes, you told me. What was her decision after hearing that news?”

  “I don’t exactly know, except she couldn’t let go. She told us on Thanksgiving she was considering carrying on.”

  “Did she have a routine on Mondays?” Paul asked.
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  “Wash the dishes?” Nina said. “Groceries?”

  “Nothing someone might rely on.”

  “I don’t think so,” Nina said.

  Paul looked at Jack.

  “Nina, we should go,” Jack said.

  She rose from her chair, still looking at Paul. “You both see this stuff all the time. Dead bodies. Mothers, fathers, children, even little babies, murdered, tortured sometimes. I don’t even let myself picture most of these things. But this is my mother. I can’t stop imagining—”

  Nina saw that neither of the men wanted to hear more, but neither could leave such a stupendous hint hanging.

  “Imagining what?” Jack asked gently.

  “What nightmares your dreams must be.”

  Jack tried to get her out the door before she could say more, but she pulled away.

  “How can you do this terrible work?”

  Paul got up from his desk and walked over to her. He stopped and bent his head to look into her face. “There’s no justice for your mother, Nina, only for you and for her killer.”

  “Platitudes,” Nina said. “I expect better from you. I expect an arrest.”

  “Call you later,” Jack said as they left, Jack clutching her arm and dragging her away.

  Nina and Jack collected Bob from his preschool. Clinging to Bob’s hand on the porch, Nina stood in front of her door. “Go back to work, Jack,” she said, but he was up the stairs holding her tightly. He stayed as long as she wanted him, then released her.

  “Call me,” he told her. She watched him drive away. Bob said he needed food right now, so she heated up soup from a can. She read to him and called Harlan again, telling him what Paul had told her. Harlan said little. Matt did not answer his phone. Bob watched cartoons. She sat with a torn hem in her lap, along with a needle and thread, watching the gray drear of afternoon darken.

  After Bob’s bath and bedtime—they said a little prayer for Grandma—Nina checked the locks on the windows and doors, then went into the living room and held a pillow lightly over her face so the sound of her crying wouldn’t keep him up.