Full Bodied Murder

by Christine E. Blum

  “You do an awfully good impression of her,” I said, looking at her suspiciously. “How do you hear all these things?”

  She looked at me and shrugged.

  “Never mind.”

  I took some photos of the scene and then we headed back to the car.

  Finally I had something. If only I could tie it to Rosa.

  Chapter 15

  The next Wine Club happened to fall on the day of the autumnal equinox. My exhausted body was magically lifted when I arrived at Cassie’s and was handed a candied apple martini.

  Wine Club can be about real booze? Unless I win the lottery, I’m never moving. Unless I go to jail.

  You’ve gotta love Cassie’s quirky sense of occasion, this was all about fall; she served baked brie with raspberry preserves, homemade pretzels with mustard and gherkins, maple-spiced nuts, and hallowed out mini pumpkins filled with turkey chili. But I must say that I was a little stumped by a bowl of small rectangular-shaped candies.

  “Get it? Squirrel Nut Zippers.” She giggled.

  The Chihuahuas were out of sight and I decided not to ask, for now.

  This was my first real visit to Cassie and Carl’s house. It was really kind of fun to see the blending of both personalities. I knew Cassie was much younger than Carl, and I suspected that he had become pretty set in his ways before she met him. I’ll break it down the way she told me:

  Pre-Cassie Furnishings & Accoutrements

  • Barroom fully stocked with mini fridge, dartboard, and pinball machine

  • Living room recliner chair, albeit a leather one

  • Wall-mounted collection of framed Rolling Stones covers

  Post-Cassie Furnishings & Accoutrements

  • Custom color painted walls and carved moldings

  • An antique, full-size women’s mannequin also in the living room and currently dressed in a kimono

  • A bedazzled yoga mat sprawled in front of a TV as large as my garage door

  And you know what? It all worked perfectly together.

  * * *

  “You should tell Augie,” Aimee urged after I told them all about my trip with Marisol to the Angeles Forest and what Musso was doing with those cars each week.

  “But this doesn’t put him any closer to Rosa,” I said. “Sally, did I hear you say earlier that Musso and Rosa had a thing going at some point?”

  “I said that I’d see them talking together, it looked like a sweet romance. You know, when you see a couple and they laugh at every imbecilic thing each of them says? Even if it is as dumb as a sack of wet mice?”

  A sack of what?

  “So maybe we should be looking at his nasty ass girlfriend Tala instead,” Cassie added.

  “Just what I was thinking, does anyone know her last name?”

  “Seems like Augie would have that,” proffered Sally.

  “You’d better add my sleuthing report when you call Augie,” Peggy teased, waiting for us to press her for details.

  “What did you do?” Aimee asked, frightened for her.

  “Well,” Peggy replied, and then paused for effect. “I got up early this morning and decided to take care of the damn weeds growing in with my rose bushes.”

  “And?” we all shouted.

  “I saw Ray carrying bags full of stuff out of Rosa’s house. Probably going to pawn the family heirlooms, such that they are, for cash to buy drugs.”

  “I imagine that he’s allowed to go in there now, the cops have finished with the crime scene and he has to be the next of kin,” I said, wincing at the reminder of that day.

  “That’s it?” Cassie asked, disappointed.

  “You didn’t confront him, did you?” Aimee asked.

  “That’s what I intended to do, Momma didn’t raise no dumbass.”

  “So what did he say?” I was getting impatient.

  “Nothing, he was heading back into the house when I got up there. And that’s when I saw her.”

  “Who?” We were all ready to tear our hair out.

  “Inez, she came out of Rosa’s house and gave him a big smooch.”

  “Oh my God,” chimed Sally, Cassie, and Aimee.

  “They have a thing? Did you all know about this?”

  They all shook their heads at me. This was getting more and more complicated. Sure we were gathering pieces to the puzzle, but each one only seemed to be opening the case up for more suspects.

  “Peggy, did either of them see you?” Aimee asked, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

  “Not Ray, but Inez did. Maybe she’ll keep her mouth shut, Ray is the one I’d worry about.”

  “I’d worry about Inez too,” Cassie said.

  “Oh, Peggy, no.” Aimee stood.

  “Worrying about what’s done is like watering a dead plant, Aimee,” Sally remarked and got a blank look.

  “I’ll do some checking on both of them when I research Tala. You’d think with all these possible murderers that I’d finally be knocked off the list.”

  “Even more important that you fill in Augie,” Sally said, nodding to my phone.

  “Right,” I said, bringing it to life. “Hey, I have a voice mail from Augie, I wonder how I missed that?”

  “Put it on speaker,” Cassie demanded, trying to take over the phone operation. I pulled it away from her and tapped “play.”

  “Hi, Halsey, a couple of updates: First off, it seems that Rosa had recently changed her will to leave her estate to the Mar Vista Boys and Girls Club. That cuts Ray out, but we are confirming that this was actually filed or is just a draft.”

  “Wait until I tell him about Ray cleaning out her house.” I noticed that the girls had formed a circle around my phone and had linked arms.

  “Second, like I warned you, it seems that your ex did file a police report on you but didn’t press charges and everybody here has seen it. It doesn’t prove motive but it does show a history of violence. Marquez wants you to come down and make a statement about this. I would do it sooner rather than later. I know it’s nothing but you have to convince them.”

  They all gasped.

  Looks like I got some splainin to do....

  “Lastly, we got an anonymous tip from one of your neighbors living across the street from Rosa. They emailed us a recording from the security camera mounted over their front porch. From the day she was stabbed. It’s really grainy and needs to be enhanced; our IT guys are working on it. I’ll keep you posted, and let me know if you have anything more to report.”

  Wow, I wonder who sent it....

  That was the end of the message but we all kept looking at the phone for another minute in silence. Like Siri was suddenly going to wrap this all up for us.

  Chapter 16

  As requested, I summarized the Wine Club’s sleuthing results in an email and sent it off to Augie. He once again warned us about sticking our noses where they don’t belong, and said he hoped that we would just move on. Like I could do that knowing that the deck was stacked against me.

  At this point the Wine Club was hooked and not about to give up until the real killer was found. I started to close my email so I could get down to researching Tala and Ray. I paused when I saw the list of unopened emails.

  Curiosity got the better of me and I figured that it was about time I took a look at the messages Jack had sent me. After all, just because he was conflicted about his last relationship didn’t make him a bad person. But it did make him a bad person for me and my new drama-free life.

  Halsey, I read from the first email. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you had to deal with my ex. And she IS my ex. We used to work together and she has referred clients to me over the years, so I didn’t want to totally cut off the lines of communication. I know I messed up and I’ve told her only to contact me if there is an emergency and to do so by text.

  Turns out this was an emergency, friends of hers were holed up in their bedroom with their infant because the family Rottweiler suddenly turned aggressive toward the baby
. Classic jealousy behavior, so I went over and calmed him down and am now working with them to resolve this.

  I miss you so much and want to start over, take you out for a nice dinner, take it slow and get to know each other.

  BTW: I got some info on Rosa’s brother from a detective friend. His K-9 unit was brought out for a drug bust a few months ago.

  Well, he did sound sincere and he clearly had a big heart. And something that might help with the case . . .

  I dashed off a quick reply explaining that I was really busy with work but would call him once I got this project out, and yes, dinner and getting know him sounded nice.

  But that was it, I thought to myself.

  The office phone rang and I saw from the caller ID that it was the prospective Coast Guard client. I picked up and tried to sound as professional as possible. It turned out that he just needed some corporate info on my company and wanted to know how many people I was bringing to the presentation. Security needed to have their names. Pretty standard, but it’s amazing how differently you take things when the police are watching your every move. I have got to get this murder figured out.

  We were having a pleasant conversation that was moving off the agenda for the call and more into the getting-to-know-you business relationship. Bardot suddenly started barking fiercely by the window facing the side street. No tail wagging this time, she meant business. I tried tossing jellybeans for her, hoping the chewy confections would occupy her mouth otherwise, while I held my hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. No such luck, her fur on her back had gone up and her anger had intensified. I quickly ended the call, apologizing and claiming that FedEx had sent the neighbor’s dog into a frenzy.

  I took a breath and got up to look out and see what all the fuss was about. Bardot had finally stopped barking and was getting colorful food dye all over her fur from rolling on the candy. I had a headache that became exacerbated by the deep roar of a car starting up. By the time I got to the window, I could just make out the back end of a Mercedes as it turned the corner and was out of sight. I’d seen that car in Musso’s driveway.

  * * *

  I really hadn’t spent any time in Marina del Rey since I’d moved here, and I needed to experience it if I had any hope of winning this pitch for the Coast Guard website. I decided to go there and I invited Cassie to come along, I knew she used to sail and figured she could help. She also offered to bring Carl’s camera so I could get shots for my presentation. She told me that Carl was down in the desert for a week at a golf tournament, so I’d have plenty of time to download all the photos before his return.

  Perfect all around.

  Marina del Rey serves multiple audiences. It is a safe harbor for any vessel in distress, it is home to the yachts of the rich and famous and to the early houseboat settlers who would be hard pressed to make it out past the jetty.

  It offers practice waters for both the UCLA and Loyola Marymount crew teams, teaches kids to captain sailfish boats in the summer, and launches larger craft carrying hopeful fishermen daily. Add to that waterside restaurants, a park for concerts, and condos with fabulous views, and you have a lovely place to visit.

  It also provides access for boats large and small entering from anywhere off the Pacific. It is not unusual to see a 250-foot yacht belonging to a pro golfer or tech wizard resting in the channel. Los Angeles County manages the large harbor along with harbor patrol, the fire and sheriff departments, the Army Corps of Engineers and the Coast Guard, and Homeland Security.

  “So you taught sailing here?” I asked Cassie as we drove out the south side of the Marina to Fisherman’s Village.

  Since I was living in the film capitol of the world, it should have come as no surprise to me that the waterfront looked like a typical New England port. It has been used as a backdrop in numerous movies and TV shows. Brightly colored cottage style buildings of various heights line the boardwalk, fooling you into thinking that you just disembarked from the ferry to Nantucket. There is even a blue and white decorative lighthouse, with a burger stand at the base.

  “Only for a summer, when I got back from Greece. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next and didn’t want to give up the water just yet,” she replied, leaving me with so many questions.

  She saw my look and laughed.

  “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll explain it all over lunch.”

  We parked near the Coast Guard station and started our tour. I let Cassie handle the picture taking so that I could observe and really get a sense of the place.

  Cassie, in her full-length geometric print halter dress, walked the boardwalk like she was about to board a yacht and go for a nice long luncheon cruise.

  The large channel was rife with activity. It was still morning and the last of the rowing crews were finishing up their workouts before the traffic got heavy and the water got choppy. I watched a women’s eight sweep boat glide smoothly with each send of its oars. Their blades dropped perfectly in unison, this UCLA collegiate team was going to go far.

  Cassie and I walked and photographed for a little over an hour. When I saw that she had moved on to shooting tourists with their phones and restyling their outfits, I figured it was time to break and get some lunch.

  Of course, Cassie had an opinion on that as well.

  “There is this little café over here, way less touristy and pretty decent food.”

  She was walking ahead of me now, so I guess we were not going to be discussing dining alternatives.

  “Their wine is crap though; I’ve tried before to sneak my own in, but I swear those guys can smell it. They’re like those pigs in France that find those mushrooms. I suggest we stick with the Prosecco, can’t go wrong with that.”

  I wasn’t thinking of drinking anything but iced tea. This was lunch after all, and I would have to get back to work in a couple of hours.

  You placed your order up front and they brought your food to your table when it was ready. Seemed simple enough, unless you are Cassie.

  “I’m thinking about the Windjammer Salad but I’m not a big fan of chickpeas, can you do edamame instead?

  The woman behind the counter stopped punching the order into the computer. “I’m not sure we have edamame—”

  “Ooh, the Greek Chicken Wrap sounds really good. Lemon brined free-range chicken? I don’t think I’ve ever had that. Hmmm.”

  The line was backing up and I tried to pretend that I wasn’t with Cassie and was equally annoyed.

  “What are you going to get, Halsey?”

  Busted.

  Before I could reply, she said, “I think I’ll go with the Mediterranean Platter. Wait, what is the Feta marinated in?”

  After tasting all the wines, she decided on a bottle of Prosecco. I knew I’d only drink one glass, but if I’d argued, I would have probably been left swinging lifeless from a brass harbor lantern.

  “How’s your pizza?” she asked after we had finally sat down and got our food. I’d ordered the daily special because it seemed simple and fast.

  “Good—would you like some?”

  “Are those capers?”

  I knew we were headed back down a slippery slope, so I quickly moved the conversation to one of Cassie’s favorite subjects.

  “Here’s to our first lunch, just the two of us. I believe you teased me about some stories, Cassie.”

  We clinked glasses, she beamed, and off she went.

  As I suspected, Cassie is not exactly what you would think. Sure, she’s got the playful minx act down pat, but there is always method to her minx-ness. Here’s a synopsis of her hour-plus dissertation:

  She has five brothers and she’s the oldest. She calls them her “army of minions,” and you can just imagine how she commanded her troops. With such a large family they had to live very simple lives. From the get-go, Cassie worked hard to rise above doing babysitting gigs, working in the summer at a luggage store, even a short-lived stint as an all-around assistant to a Hollywood stunt man.

  Cassie’s
a college graduate, “poli-sci.” Although that’s not really what she majored in. She also conceded that she finished in five years, the last being done some time later.

  “When I was a junior, I got bored. See you had to take a lot of history courses with a poli-sci major and I just hated it until I discovered ancient Greece.”

  Wait, what now?

  “You familiar with Plato’s dialogues, his descriptions of a peaceful utopia called Atlantis?”

  “I remember the Bermuda Triangle stories, which were mostly debunked, and of course the Disney movie on the lost city, which left me with an odd craving for spanakopita.”

  “No,” said Cassie, helping herself to a slice of my pizza and picking out the capers. She then grabbed some sun-dried tomatoes from another slice and doubled up.

  “Those stories are all BS. You’ve got to look at the Greek island of Santorini. Sometime in 1600 BC a volcano erupted and sent the middle of it down to the bottom of the sea. The prevailing theory back then was that this was the location of the lost city of Atlantis.”

  Who are you and what have you done with Cassie? “Ah, it’s coming back to me. Wasn’t it also thought to be in the Azores, and Cyprus, even off the coast of Cuba?”

  “Yeah, well, I went on an archaeological vacation one Christmas and ended up staying on Santorini for a year.”

  “Wow!”

  “Yes, it was a lot of dusting and cleaning of objets d’art, which is why I told Carl that we have to have the maid come three times a week. But there is nothing like the blue of the Aegean, and Giorgo taught me so much about the Minoan civilization. And other things.”

  She was smiling and lost in her own reverie.

  “And did you know that Santorini produces some of the best wines in Greece? We’d go around on his motor scooter from place to place tasting wines and yummy cheeses.”

  “Isn’t Santorini built along cliffs, with cobblestone roads?”

  I was scared for her even now despite knowing that she had lived to tell about it.