The Fallen Angels Book Club

by R. Franklin James

  “Hello there. Planning on making a purchase?”

  “You’re here late.” She smiled warmly. “No, I’m not buying anything. One of the residents was looking for a memory card reader for his great-grandson’s camera. His eyesight’s not too good and I said I’d help him. Besides, I don’t think he knows what a card reader is.”

  “I’m with him. I don’t know what one is, either.” I pulled up a folding chair and sat down next to her. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

  “You’re too young to not keep up to date with technology.” She looked at me and shook her head. “I read newspapers and catalogs. You can learn a lot from catalogs. In just a few short words, they describe a product and its uses. Listen, ‘a USB 2.0 memory card reader is a camera accessory that helps to store photos until you can transfer them to your computer.’ ” She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “If I still don’t understand, I make a call.”

  “A call? Who do you call?”

  “Customer service, of course—the eight hundred number is free. I’ve got time on my hands and they get paid to answer questions. When I talk to a real helpful one, I even write a letter to their supervisor.” She took off her glasses and let them swing down on the cord draped loosely around her neck.

  “Okay.” I made a mental note to come and keep Marla company more often. “Marla, you don’t look well. Are you all right?”

  She sighed. “I’m just worried about Lily.”

  “She mentioned the name Portia. Who’s Portia?”

  Marla closed her eyes and shook her head. “Portia was her daughter; she was six when she died. Lily’s getting worse, I tell you. Something has to be done.”

  “I could go to the police, but if I do, they’ll have to take things to their lawful conclusion. It could mean the end of the center.”

  “If you don’t, it could mean the end of Lily.” Marla wet her lips. “You’re right. Maybe you could just let management know you know what they’re up to and they’d stop.”

  I touched her hand. “I’d still have to identify you. I’m not here when the medications are given. How else would I know these things? Murray already suspects you’re the whistle blower. Besides, I’m not absolutely convinced she’s in on it.”

  I was pulling Marla’s sweater around her. Joseph stood in the doorway looking at us. He didn’t back down from my stare. I didn’t say anything to Marla. It would only make her as paranoid as I was.

  “Do you know Joseph’s shift hours?”

  “Saturday through Wednesday, seven to three. What are you thinking?”

  I didn’t answer because I didn’t really know what I was thinking. It seemed I’d have to catch Joseph in the act in order to prove to the authorities that Marla—and now I—wasn’t crazy.

  “Can you show me where the medications are kept?”

  “It’s down the hall next to the director’s office, but you don’t need to go there. Staff pops in there all the time.” Marla looked around again. “Joseph has a large office. I think that’s where he tampers with the medications. Off of his office there’s a small closet.”

  I doubted he’d keep any incriminating evidence out in the open, or even in his office space. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be able to go far with bottles of pills.

  “Marla, how do you know about the layout of Joseph’s office? Never mind. Don’t tell me. You need to stay clear of Joseph for the next few days. You don’t want him suspecting you.” Especially if he has access to your medication.

  “All right. What are you going to do? I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  Me, neither.

  “It’s best you don’t know. I promise I’ll do what I can.”

  “Enough of Lily, I’m thinking you came here for another reason. What’s wrong?”

  Except for two senior ladies watching an Oprah rerun, we were alone in the sunroom. I leaned in closer. “Marla, I’m trying to get a pardon from the court to have my conviction cleared. It’s called a Certificate of Rehabilitation.”

  Her eyes grew large, but she said nothing.

  “Anyway, I need references from four different people. I’ve got most of them covered but I need one from a third-party who knows me but is not a relation or an employer. Would you feel comfortable giving me a letter of recommendation?”

  “Why, of course.” She rubbed her hands together. “You can count on me. You know, this is like an episode of Law and Order. How many words do you need?”

  “There isn’t a specific word count.”

  Her eagerness to take on her assignment warmed me. I pulled out the manila envelope and form she’d need. “Here’s the instruction sheet, the form and a self-addressed stamped envelope so you can mail it to my attorney.”

  “Fine, fine. Just leave it up to me. I’ll get started today. I know exactly what I’ll say.” She took the materials from me. “When do you need it?”

  “If you could possibly have it mailed by the end of next week, that would be great.” I paused. “Now, Marla, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. You can keep it simple.”

  “Not a problem. Your attorney will have it this week.” She patted my hand. “Now get that worried look off your face and give me a smile. It’s going to be all right.”

  Somehow I dug deep and came up with a smile.

  At home, I leaned back on my bed, closed my eyes and let down my guard. Talk about a week on an emotional roller coaster. Avery. What was that all about? Then there was the conversation with Rita the other day. Had I shut my family out instead of the other way around? Now another member threatened. I tried to push it all away. I had a hearing to show up for and only three weeks to get my act together.

  It was clear my attempt to read myself to sleep wasn’t working. There was one thing I needed to get out of the way. I picked up the phone and then put it back in the handset. I picked it up again. Even as I punched in the number it irked me that I had memorized it. Good, I got voicemail.

  “Bill … Bill I … just give me a call. I want to clear something up. My num—”

  The phone clicked.

  “Wait, Becky, er … Hollis, wait, I’m here.” I could hear papers rustling. “What a surprise. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise.”

  “I bet.” I took a deep breath. “Look, I called because I don’t want you contacting my family again. What happened is between you and me. If you can’t reach me, then you can’t reach me. Don’t call Rita, or Mom, or Dad, or Greg, just leave my family out of it.”

  There was silence.

  “Bill?”

  He sighed. “I’m here.” He took a swallow. “Will you please put our past behind us and let me take you to dinner? Or, if that’s too congenial for you, how about meeting for tea?”

  I was glad he couldn’t see me glancing around for an answer. He’d remembered I liked tea.

  I stammered, “No … I don’t think—”

  “Let me come over.” His voice deepened with promise.

  I blinked, and pushed the phone at arm’s length as I said a quick thank you to the patron saint of ice water.

  “Are you kidding me? No, you can’t come over.” My voice gained strength. “And stay away from my family. Do you hear me?”

  “Hollis, I—”

  “Do you hear me?” I enunciated each word slowly.

  “Yes, I hear you.”

  I hit end on the phone, and turned off the light.

  I waited until Thursday after the last meals were served and the seniors were hopefully resting in their rooms. It was also the time I knew the staff had dinner in the dining room. The front door was locked, but I’d been given a key to the rear door when I first started to visit. I’d never used it, and I held my breath until I heard the lock click open. The key still worked. The locks hadn’t been changed.

  The door opened onto a hallway that I knew led to the administrative offices. The residence rooms were on the other side of the building, separated by the community room and lobby. Fortunately the lighting was l
ow. The carpet helped muffle my footsteps, giving me cover.

  Walking swiftly past the double doors leading to the dining room, I counted the doors to staff offices. Joseph’s was second from the end.

  It was locked.

  All the center’s interior doors had keypad locks. Each resident had a coded lock that staff had access to. Of course, most seniors shared their codes with each other. However, staff offices all had the same code. Although they treated me like staff, and I used a vacant office from time to time, if I were caught, I’d have a lot of explaining to do. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that they hid the code somewhere near the receptionist’s desk. During my last visit with Lily, I ventured into the main office. Within five minutes, I found the code on a Post-it under the computer mouse pad. I memorized the number.

  Now I quickly punched it in and waited for the red light to turn green. Before I could turn the knob, the door jerked open. I was face to face with Joseph.

  His scowl covered his face and didn’t hide the fury in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing breaking into my office?”

  My brain went blank, so my tongue came up with an idea. “Oh, this is your office? I thought this was Opal’s office.”

  “Hollis, I was wondering where you went to. I have those papers for you. Thank you for coming by so late. ” Marla was dressed in a housecoat and carried her purse. She appeared as only an angel would. “Hello, Joseph.”

  He gave her a brief nod but said nothing.

  My heart was beating so rapidly that I wanted to faint. “Yes, I’m on my way.”

  “I thought you said you were looking for Opal’s office.”

  Before I could respond, Marla said, “That’s because I told her Opal was holding my papers and would leave them in an envelope for her when she came by.” Marla walked up to me and grabbed my arm, steering me back down the hallway. “Anyway, sweetie, I got things backward. Opal’s office is across the hall. This is Joseph’s office. I got things mixed up. Doesn’t matter. Come along.”

  “How did you get the code?” he said.

  “I—”

  Marla held me tighter. “I gave it to her. We all know where to find the code. Besides, there’s software you can buy and put on a USB device that can open any key lock.” She moved past him. “You were right, Hollis. The customer service rep was so nice to explain everything to me.”

  Joseph was likely assessing his options. I didn’t doubt his eyes were boring into my back.

  “How did you know I was here?” I whispered.

  Marla glanced behind her. “I went to get a catalog I left behind in the community room, looked out the window and saw you pull into the lot next door. I had no idea you’d come tonight, sweetie. I could have told you Joseph traded nights. I just came by to make sure you were okay.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to get involved.” It never occurred to me to ask Marla and save myself the potential embarrassment at being caught red-handed. “Do you really have the code?”

  “No,” she smiled broadly. “I thought I sounded convincing.”

  I gave her arm a squeeze. I looked back at Joseph, who was still standing where we had left him. From the grim set of his jaw, I could tell he hadn’t bought any of it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Snow Museum was an Oakland landmark. A former Victorian-style mansion turned museum, it stood in quiet watch over Lake Merritt. In contrast to its stately turn-of-the-century presence, rows of expensive contemporary condominiums rose in the background.

  Mark and I sat across from each other at one of the picnic tables that dotted the lawn facing the water. The smell of recently mown grass carried in the morning lull. It hadn’t taken much to get him here; I think he hoped this was his chance to ingratiate himself with me.

  “No one’s here,” Mark said.

  “She isn’t due for another fifteen minutes. I wanted us to talk before she arrives.”

  He handed Rena’s Inquiry First printout back. “It’s not too bad. That’s good. I knew you had another reason for accessing Inquiry First. You could have been upfront with me.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t want to involve you if I didn’t have to.”

  “I’m not sure I can help your friend.”

  “I think Rena’s a victim of circumstance, like me. At first, I was put off by her but now … I don’t know, she seems okay.”

  “What do you think I can do?”

  “Listen to her. I’m too close to all of this. I want you to hear her story in her words. The fact that she received a threat makes me think she might have seen or heard something. I know in my gut Abby was killed because she knew something about Rory’s murderer. The police have backed off the suicide theory. That means there have been two murders likely committed by the same person in our diminishing book club membership.”

  “How many of you are left?”

  “Five, including me.”

  “Don’t you think it’s nuts that one of your club members would be demented enough to commit murders that would only lead back to a club member?”

  “Nuts and scary. Sadly, no one else has our book list. The other thing is—”

  “Hi.” Rena approached.

  “Rena, good morning. You look great.” I barely recognized her. She looked like a model. Dark sunglasses complemented the sophistication of her hair pulled back into a loose bun. She wore black slacks, a billowy white top and red pumps. Her well-toned arms sported a bright assortment of silver and red bracelets.

  I motioned for her to sit next to me. “This is Mark Haddan. I told you I work with Mark, but I also consider him a friend.”

  She gave him a nod. “Hollis doesn’t give me the impression she acquires friends lightly.”

  Mark gave a small laugh. “It’s the first time I’ve heard her call me that. I tread very carefully.” He held out his hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

  Rena hesitated a moment then shook it.

  My lack of social graces took over and my impatience grew. “I know you don’t have much time. Show Mark what you showed me.”

  Rena’s whole demeanor changed. Her smile faded and her expression became one of apprehension. She pulled out the note.

  He took it. “What is The Long Pause?”

  “It’s the name of the next book on our club’s reading list.”

  Mark’s gaze flicked first to me, then to Rena. “Okay, Rena, why don’t you tell me how you got this.”

  She recounted what she told me. “Why me? I don’t know anything. I just joined the group.”

  Mark said, “Did the others get any kind of warning?”

  Rena shrugged.

  “Not that I know of,” I said.

  “What did the police say?”

  Rena looked out toward the lake. “I haven’t told them about it.”

  He lifted a single eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “Because … because I don’t like the police and … and they might think I was trying to point fingers away from me because I’m guilty. I’m not, but they might think I am.”

  Mark gave Rena back her note. “This is a threat. You’ve got to take it to them. Of course, any fingerprints are covered with ours by now, but they might be able to find something. Take the note to them. It will look better for you.” His voice softened. “Don’t get caught up in second-guessing the police. They want to find the killer. You know you’re not guilty, and there is a real killer out there.”

  I spoke up in case Rena still resisted. “Mark’s right.”

  She gave me a woeful look. “Will you come with me?”

  “Me? No. I think I’d do more harm than good, since they consider me a suspect.” I put my hands in my lap. “Ah, Mark, could you go with her?”

  Rena turned to Mark. “I know we just met, but will you come?”

  Mark appeared taken aback. “Ah, I’m not a criminal attorney. I wouldn’t be your best advocate.”

  “I don’t want you to represent me. I just don�
�t want to go alone.”

  Mark looked at me, and I shrugged.

  “I guess I could accompany you. You should go as soon as possible. When can you make it?”

  I listened vaguely to their arrangements to meet in the afternoon. I felt a growing disquiet rising in my chest. Rena said her thank yous and goodbyes, and Mark stood to leave.

  I leaned over the table. “What if others got a note as well and I was the only one who didn’t?”

  He thought a moment then spoke the words I wouldn’t utter. “That could mean someone is trying to frame you.”

  “Isn’t it too obvious? No one would believe I’m that stupid.”

  “Maybe Rena doesn’t realize she knows something.”

  “That’s what I thought about Abby. Maybe she could identify the killer. Maybe one of the guys really is a serial killer.”

  Mark shook his head. “Enough. We’re not going to get anywhere speculating. I’ll encourage Rena to give her story, and then tomorrow or the next day I’ll talk to the detectives assigned to the case.” He brushed off his slacks. “I’ve got to run some errands before I meet her. I’m not sure who’s around at the police station. There’s a chance the detectives won’t be there, but I’ll let you know what happens.”

  I smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate you talking with Rena and … and talking sense to me.”

  “No problem.” He hesitated as I got up. “Hollis, er … I have this one lingering case I need to get off my desk. One of the temps started to help me before she went on maternity leave. I’m running out of time getting the Riddick filings in shape for Avery. I could use your help.”

  I didn’t bother to hide my distaste.

  He sighed with acceptance and walked back to his car. I wanted to kick myself. Mark had shown me kindness and I had reverted back to the old me. I called out, but he had pulled away from the curb.