The Fallen Angels Book Club

by R. Franklin James

  “All I know is it involved a lot of rich people. Rory named his biggest client ‘Jackpot.’ He never let me get close to him. My job was to validate the insurance claim information to an appraiser.”

  “Insurance information. Who are these people?”

  “I don’t know that, either.”

  Bill’s ego didn’t allow him to admit easily to not knowing, so a part of me believed his answer.

  “What are you doing with Rory’s mother?”

  “Rory wasn’t a bad guy. I met his mom a couple of years ago when he invited me over to try her lasagna.” He paused. “I needed to make sure there wasn’t any information lying around her house about me—and, of course, I assisted her at the same time.”

  “Of course.”

  “Anyway, I’ve been helping her clear out the rest of his things.”

  “So, how am I in danger?”

  I could swear I heard Bill taking a swallow from a drink. If memory served me right, he drank Wild Turkey on the rocks.

  “You have sixty seconds,” I added.

  “Right, I know you. You’ll want to get involved, and that’s not healthy. Don’t be pokin’ your nose around. Let the police do their job. I’m trying to protect you, but I can’t be around forever.”

  That did it. He’d pushed my last button. “You’re trying to protect me? Buddy, I’m in bad shape if I have to count on you for protection. Right now, the police think I’m the murderer, so I’m really not anxious for them to move forward with doing their job.”

  “Becky—”

  “No, you stop. Is this all you wanted to tell me?” My voice was getting louder. I took a calming breath.

  “No, there’s more I want to tell you. I want you to know that I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t bother. What are you going to do now?”

  Bill couldn’t talk without lying. I knew he’d fed me a few. I just had to figure out which ones were the lies. I didn’t trust myself to be objective. But I patted myself on the back for my restraint.

  “Now? I’m going to go … home. Becky—”

  “Your time’s up. My name is Hollis.” I clicked off the phone.

  I returned to the condo. The police had left the rooms relatively unscathed. I liked to imagine Faber told them not to trash the place. They must have gone through all my books. They were on the shelves but the fiction and nonfiction were mixed-up. Everything was slightly not where I left it. Upstairs in my bedroom, I tried not to notice the scuffs on the floor from moved furniture and the clear signs of closet dishevelment. I crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over my head. Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  First thing in the morning, I dropped off my finished statement at Clay Boone’s office. It was the best I could do. I just hoped Judge Pine would think so, too.

  I felt mentally drained and just plain tired. I’d stalled long enough. With both Mark and Avery out of the office on travel, it was easy to be away for a couple of hours without being missed. All I wanted to do was get my home back in order from the police search. Before long, my kitchen was back to normal and, with a determined focus to triumph over procrastination, I finished putting the bathrooms back together.

  I had hoped for a feeling of accomplishment, but none came.

  I checked the time. I’d waited to question Rena again. I wouldn’t let her put me off so easily. Rory had upset someone. He’d started to blackmail Abby and Richard. Why just those two? Had he stopped there? Maybe he hadn’t. Was Rena too new? Did Rory know about Gene’s affair? Maybe he had started on Miller, and Miller didn’t want to pay.

  Killing Rory would be cheaper.

  After a little cajoling, Rena finally agreed to meet me the next day after work at the Berkeley Marina. I got there first, and it felt good to just sit and stare out over the bay.

  “Okay, I’m here. I had to get a babysitter.” She leaned back on the bench and crossed her arms. “So, what have you found out?”

  “After a lot of false starts, not much, but I’m willing to bet the reason why you said you’d see me is because you want to know what I found out about you. Am I right?”

  Rena shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her cashmere sweater. She took a dramatic deep breath.

  She stared at me a moment. “I talked with Gene. He said I could trust you.”

  If she’d hit me with a stick, I couldn’t have been more surprised. Gene knew Rena? I hadn’t realized they were that close.

  “He’s right.”

  She went on, but her voice trembled. “What he couldn’t, or didn’t tell me, is why you’re taking it on yourself to find the killer.”

  I knew I only had this chance to prove myself to her. “The police still have me on their suspect list. Mine is a long story, but I can’t completely prove my innocence, either. More than finding out who murdered Rory, I want to identify Abby’s killer.” There was tension in my voice.

  “Abby was a good person. I get that. Why you? You’re not qualified.”

  “Granted, I’m taking this on myself. Not only do I have a vested interest, but I think I can get into places and ask questions the police, who have to follow procedures, can’t. The thought of going back to prison—well, I’m sure you can relate. It’s not an option.”

  Rena got up and walked away a few feet then turned back and sat. She seemed to be deciding whether to trust me. She took a sip from a water bottle she’d brought with her.

  “After the last Fallen Angels’ meeting, I went to my car.” She hesitated. “There was this piece of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. I didn’t know what it meant … except now ... except now, after what happened to Rory and Abby, I think it means I’m next to be killed.”

  She reached into her purse and produced a folded piece of paper. I reached for it but she held on tight.

  “Do you think the murderer is one of the members?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “I know you don’t want to accuse someone without solid proof. We know what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do.”

  She spoke slowly. “Yes. I hated prison. I can’t say I was entirely innocent, but I’d never give testimony about anyone when I didn’t know for sure … for sure that they … I have a son. I can’t leave him again. I ... here.” She handed it to me.

  The plain paper had only three words written on it: The Long Pause. Rena leaned forward. “The Long Pause … that’s our next book, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. You have no idea who could have left this for you?”

  “The only thing I can think of is that I had to park away from everyone else because I was late again and couldn’t get a space. Miller left the meeting first. I left after he did. When I came out, his car was gone.”

  Finally, a break. “So, if nothing else, he had the opportunity to place the note?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You’ve got to go to the police.” I wasn’t going to see someone else killed because they didn’t tell the authorities what they knew.

  Rena didn’t seem to hear. “You know Rory was killed like in our January book and Abby—well, I heard Abby was killed like the victim in Storm Crossing. Do you think …?”

  Her voice was strained. She seemed scared. I didn’t blame her.

  “We can’t sit here and speculate. We’ve got to turn over this information.”

  Rena refolded the paper and tucked it back inside her purse. She continued to say nothing, but her wide brown eyes sought mine.

  “My son Christopher is five.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t get caught up again. When Rory was killed, I was visiting my mom, who watches my son. When Abby was killed, I was at a buyers’ conference.”

  “You told all this to the police?”

  “Yes.”

  I held her shoulder. “Rena, you have nothing to worry about, but you can’t ignore the note. You could be in danger. I work for a law firm, and I’m going to ask for some help from a friend.”

/>   Her expression became alarmed. “A lawyer … I don’t know about that. I can’t afford to have anyone make trouble. I can’t—”

  “No, he’s a friend who just happens to be a lawyer. I need his help to do some background checking.” I paused. “I’ll introduce you first and you can judge him for yourself. Look, if I were you I’d be wary of exposing my life to a stranger, but we can’t deal with this by ourselves. We need help.”

  Rena hesitated. I thought she was going to say something else, but then she only nodded slowly.

  “Do you know the Snow Museum? At Lake Merritt?”

  She nodded again.

  “Meet us there Saturday morning. In the afternoon a lot of families are out, but early in the morning, only runners are around. We’ll be waiting for you on the bench behind the museum on the lake side.”

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “His name is Mark Haddan. He’s a good guy. You can trust him.”

  “That’s just great, but how do I know I can trust you?”

  I wanted to check Lily out for myself. I stopped by the center on my way home.

  “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Lily’s voice trembled and her hand shook. “I’m cold; tell them to bring me my shawl.”

  I nodded and walked over to the nurse, who was trying to put a videotape in the VCR. She said she’d get her shawl as soon as she finished.

  “Lily, we’re just about done. Avery Mitchell asked that I continue to work with you to save money.” I spoke directly into her good ear. “I took down everything you said. I think we’re through here. Is there anything else?”

  She frowned and then a look of fear crossed her face. “Stop it, I said. Stop looking at me.” She tried to rise out of her wheelchair.

  I held onto her wrist but she scratched me with her nails from her other hand.

  “Ouch.”

  “Go away. Where’s Portia?”

  “Who’s Portia?”

  The nurse finally heard the ruckus and started toward us. Before she could get midway across the floor, Marla entered the room, walked quickly over and held Lily’s head to her chest. The nurse paused, saw things were under control and went back to the VCR.

  “Lily dear, what’s the matter?” Marla brushed Lily’s thin hair with the palm of her hand.

  Lily’s voice was muffled but still distinct. “Why, nothing. Hollis and I are working on my trust. I hope we’re almost finished. Are we?”

  I inclined my head. If I hadn’t witnessed Lily’s Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde transformation, I would probably have thought Marla was exaggerating.

  Marla looked at me and I nodded.

  After leaving Lily, all I wanted to do was go home and have a glass of wine. Make that two glasses.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next morning I beat the receptionist into the office and turned on all the lights. I saved the previous day’s newspaper to read the follow-up article about Abby’s murder; at least the police now concluded it was a murder. The article below the fold recounted Abby’s death with fair accuracy. There were quotes from Faber and an understandably sorrowful one from her husband. I held my breath, looking for references to the book club, but there were none.

  Mark was late, as usual. I prepared notes from my contacts with two local Riddick heirs and started to write the client letter that would go with the release statements.

  “Hey.”

  I looked up at the sound of Avery’s voice. “You’re back early. How was Chicago?”

  “Fast-paced, but worth it. We got the new client and a sixty-five thousand dollar retainer.” He sat down and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  I smiled. “That’s great. The Management Committee will be pleased.”

  He smiled, but the musing look that went with it silenced me.

  “Anyway, how are things here? Are you and Mark making headway? I didn’t get any emails on my Blackberry.”

  “We work well together. We divided up the cousins. He’s clearing the ones who live in Southern California. I expect him back today.” I looked down at my notes. “I secured two signatures and have one to go. We should have something good to report at our staff meeting.”

  “That’s good news.” He sat up. “God, I’m tired. I’ll probably only be here a few hours to brief Ed. Then I’m going home. How’s that other situation?”

  The abrupt change in subject threw me. “What?”

  “Your situation … how’s it going?”

  My face warmed. “It’s been quiet for the past couple of days. The police talked to another club member who was threatened.”

  “Are you a suspect in that, too?”

  “Thanks for your faith in me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” He looked uncharacteristically contrite. “How are you doing?”

  “Sometimes I can put it out of my mind for a whole hour.” My throat tightened. I took a breath. “I’m getting by.”

  He nodded. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  “Actually, there is.”

  I explained the rehabilitation certificate requirement. “It would help … I mean, would you give me a letter of recommendation?”

  “Of course.” He leaned forward in his chair. “I’m a little hurt you didn’t come to me to handle your case.”

  I looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t practice criminal law.”

  “I would have learned for you.”

  Visibly, his words surprised him as much as they did me.

  “Thank you,” I said in a rush. “Go, get some rest. I’ll have the information and forms for you tomorrow.”

  He stood and resumed his business composure, his face a mask. “Good. Well, I’m going to talk to Ed. See you tomorrow.”

  Mark appeared at the door. “Avery, what are you doing back so soon?”

  “I just told Hollis I had a successful trip that ended early.” His voice turned cool.

  “We’ve been busy, too.” Mark rubbed his hands together. “I think we’ll have some good news for you.”

  “So I’ve been hearing. Well, I’m about to drop.” Avery moved away. “I’ll check in with you two tomorrow.”

  I nodded.

  Mark came in and sat. “He must be tired. He didn’t even seem curious about what we’re up to.”

  “He’s hooked bigger fish—new clients.” I pretended interest in a case file. “How was L.A.?”

  “Not bad. I met with all three—Lisa, Cory and Neville. They’re all middle-class, down-to-earth types. Evidently, Lisa and Cory are close, so I met with them together. Neville is in the service. I met with him on base. He wanted to have his wife there. Don’t ask me why.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I said don’t ask.”

  My frustration thermometer was starting to register. “Very funny. So, what happened?”

  He slapped a thick envelope on top of my desk. “Three signatures is what happened!”

  I must have looked amazed. “You got them all to sign?”

  “Yep, and their spouses. They all thought the mother lode had come in. Only Cory remembered Mrs. Riddick and that was because her father was Riddick’s brother’s favorite nephew.” He picked imaginary lint off his suit.

  “You got their spouses to sign, too?”

  “Right. I had this thought that if Avery was concerned someone might contest a will, it’s usually the spouse who wants to interfere. We don’t know the status of their marriages. Anyway, I noticed you put some blank forms in my briefcase, so I got their signatures, too.”

  Smug satisfaction came over me. While I didn’t know if Mark would be offended if I presumed to tell him how to practice law, I didn’t care. In two of the cases I had researched, the spouses had taken little time to file for divorce after an estate settlement and lay claim to the proceeds. I put the spousal forms in Mark’s briefcase but hadn’t had the chance to explain the need.

  “Good, Mark. I’ve got agreement f
rom two of the three cousins to sign. Laura Riddick moved to Oregon. I plan on contacting Allen Riddick today. He’s still local.”

  He nodded. “He’s the last one. I’ve got to unload my briefcase, so I’ll catch up to you later. How about we get together this afternoon at around three thirty?”

  “Sounds good, I’ll see you then. I also need to ask a favor.”

  “Wait, tell me now. You’ve never asked me for a favor before.”

  “It’s something personal.” I knew I had his attention. “Is it still a good time to talk?”

  He sat down and closed my office door. “I’m listening.”

  “Do you know my background?”

  “That you didn’t get into law school so you became a paralegal? By the way, I think you’re an excellent paralegal.”

  “Thanks, but I’m still not going to do your client letters. I did get into law school. I went to Hastings.” I knew I sounded defensive, so I changed the tone in my voice. “And … well, there’s more.”

  He looked at me expectantly, and I told my story.

  The marriage, the insurance fraud, the prison term—unpracticed at sharing my life history, I filled him in surprisingly quickly. He patiently listened, and when I finished, the look of understanding on his face was exactly what I hoped to see. A load lifted from my shoulders.

  Mark smiled. “You’re a top-notch employee and you’re not letting your past define who you are now. If the firm knows your background, then go for your dream.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s a little more to it than that.”

  “I thought so. What’s the favor?”

  For the next few minutes I explained about The Fallen Angels Book Club. “We’ve had two murders from our reading list, and now another of our members has received a threat. It’s a nightmare that won’t stop.”

  Mark waited.

  “I’d like you to speak with Rena Gabriel. She’s the member who got the threat. You’re the only one I could think of. The only one I trust.”

  “Okay. You can count on me. What about my client letters?”

  I stopped by the senior home to see Marla before going to get the final Riddick signature. It was foggy and cold, as only a spring day in the Bay Area could be. After placing donuts in the kitchen, Marla was in the day room with a stack of catalogs in front of her. She looked tired, even as she tried to straighten in her seat. She was paler than usual and her eyes had circles under them.