Group, Photo, Grave (A Kiki Lowenstein Mystery)

by Slan, Joanna Campbell

  “Catherine? You’re in touch with my sister Catherine?” I felt my mouth drop open. Neither Amanda nor I had heard from Catherine in fifteen years.

  “Now I’ve gone and done it,” muttered Aunt Penny. “And here I’d promised to keep my big trap shut.”

  I would have pressed her for details, but the door minder rang. I knew that Anya and Gracie wouldn’t be back that quickly. There was nothing for me to do but take care of business. Two customers staggered in, shaking off raindrops. They’d come wanting help with an album they were making. For the next three hours, Aunt Penny took full advantage of their entrance to steer clear of me. She and the crew went back to work, moving more merchandise so they’d have room as the wall went up.

  “Mom, I need a break from the store,” said Anya, wiping the dust from her face. “I’d rather not hang around for the crop. Could I go to Gran’s house? I miss her.”

  This was my chance to fill Anya in on her grandmother’s brief stint in the county slammer. Aunt Penny and Rebekkah were near enough to listen, too.

  “You’re kidding,” said Anya. “But she’s out? And she’s okay?”

  “Your grandmother is fine.” I explained how Prescott had arrested Sheila and put her in the general jail population. “I guess another woman attacked her. But you know your grandmother, she gave as good as she got.”

  Aunt Penny snickered.

  “What does that mean?” Anya asked.

  “That means that your grandmother has a black eye but the other woman lost a tooth. Sheila must have a mean right hook.”

  “That’s so cool,” said Rebekkah.

  Anya hooted with laughter. “Gran’s been doing those Billy Tae Bo videos to get in shape for her wedding. Because of her broken collarbone, she couldn’t do much, but I knew she wanted to hit something.”

  A sidewise glance from Aunt Penny told me volumes. She and I were both thinking that Sheila could have fared much worse.

  “Let’s see if your grandmother wants company,” I told my daughter. “You are always welcome at her house, but we need to remember that she has had a really bad day.”

  I text-messaged Robbie, and he responded immediately by calling.

  “Send her over. I’m making steaks to celebrate Sheila getting sprung. Why don’t you come over, too?”

  “I can’t come until after our crop, and that includes dinner,” I said. “But I’d love for you to save a steak for me to eat later. I’ll have Anya there in a half an hour.”

  By the time I got off the phone, my construction crew had finished up for the day, collecting their tools and sweeping up sawdust. Right now, the wall looked like a series of empty frames. The drywall sheets were due to arrive tomorrow morning.

  “We should be able to get a lot done tomorrow,” said Aunt Penny. “Roy’s bringing his nail gun.”

  “I don’t like the sounds of that.”

  “Your daughter won’t be allowed anywhere near it,” said Aunt Penny. “That’s a promise.”

  “Good,” I said. “I will hold you to it. Which reminds me. We need to talk.”

  She nodded and said, “Later.”

  Rebekkah’s phone buzzed, and she checked the message. “That’s my mechanic. He’s going to swing by and pick me up. Luckily, my car just needed a new battery.”

  “Rebekkah, could you give Aunt Penny a ride home? She’s on your way.”

  “Sure. I can even drop Anya and Gracie off at Sheila’s if you’d like.”

  Her mechanic proved as good as his word. Fifteen minutes later, I was alone in the store. The crop would start in less than an hour. Bernice Stottlemeyer would be darkening my door as well. I took advantage of the solitude to give Detweiler a call.

  Chapter 61

  Same day…

  Metro Los Angeles, California

  “Good news,” said Detweiler. “The headmaster at Erik’s school actually knows the dean of the lower school at CALA. In fact, he was impressed that Erik would be going to a school of such high caliber. His words exactly. The curriculum is the same, so that should be helpful. They promised to copy all his records and send them to the school. I took notes on his favorite subjects and interests. He loves animals. Likes to read. Is fascinated by trains.”

  “Does he know yet that he’s coming home with you?” I sat on a stool at my work table and stared out the front window. The rain was coming down sideways, so thick and dense that it looked like sheets of watery plastic were being tossed from the sky.

  “Sort of. He doesn’t really understand that it’s more than just a visit. Maybe that’s okay, all things considered. Thank goodness for your album. He’s showed it to all his friends. I meant to snap photos of the classroom, but I got involved and forgot. Sorry.”

  Drat. Another day without pictures. I took the high road. “He’s going to love Gracie and the cats.”

  Detweiler laughed. “Wait until he meets Monroe! He’s told everyone at his summer camp about the donkey in the picture.”

  “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

  “Disneyland. I know it’s a bit excessive, but I figured, why not? We’re here. It’ll allow me bonding time.”

  “And who can resist a man who offers Disney? I think you know the way to a little boy’s heart.”

  “I still have a few loose ends to tie up with Lorraine, but she’s having a time of it. The stress of sending Erik away with me is causing her a relapse. I’ve been told she could barely get out of bed this morning. I figured that since I hadn’t booked our flight, I might as well make the most of the visit. It’s important for him to get to know me. Honestly, I feel for the kid. And for Lorraine.”

  “She’s in bad shape, huh?” I asked. I really did need photos. I’d come to rely on them as a way to translate the world around me, to make sense of it.

  “Yes. She has a form of MS that’s particularly hard for the doctors to get under control. Her relapses are followed by things getting progressively worse,” he said. “Kiki, you’d really like her. She’s obviously had money her whole life, but she’s not the type who’s let it affect her. Very down-to-earth. The photos of our pets brought tears to her eyes. I guess she had to put her pug to sleep a couple of months ago. Oh, and she thinks Anya is going to grow up to be a real beauty.”

  I thought, You can’t help but like someone who likes your kids. Take that to the bank.

  “Disneyland. Wow,” I said, “As an introduction to a new parent, Disneyland ranks right up there at the top of the charts.”

  “Yes, but I wish you and Anya were here with us. That would be wonderful. It doesn’t seem right that you two are there, and I’m here. I love you, babe. Miss you terribly.”

  “We miss you, too. Maybe someday we’ll win the lottery. Then we could go and spend a week at Disney World in Florida. Take in Epcot. Go to Universal Studios.”

  “To win the lottery you have to play it,” he reminded me.

  “Oops. I knew there was something I kept forgetting to do. I’ve been pretty busy while you’ve been gone.”

  “Tell me about your day.”

  I took a deep breath and told him about Sheila’s brief stint in the county jail. He went ominously quiet. When I got to the part about her getting into a fistfight, he actually growled. That was a new one on me. I finished by explaining that I would see Sheila after the crop, and that Anya was already there with her Gran. I thought about telling him about my discussion with Hadcho but decided against it. Detweiler didn’t need more stress in his life right now. This should be a happy time for him.

  “Kiki, I’m worried,” he said. “Be careful. There’s a code among law enforcement officials. We serve and protect all the citizenry, but our families are sacred. Off limits. It has to be that way. Prescott has crossed a line here. This is unthinkable. For him to endanger Sheila that way, well, the guy is off his nut.”

  “Kiki?” Cara Mia called to me from the back. She must have fought her way through the rain. I hadn’t seen her car pull up, but then Black Beauty probably
blended in with the dark scene outside.

  “I’ve got to go,” I told Detweiler. “I love you. Can’t wait for you to come home.”

  Chapter 62

  Cara Mia and I held our “business meeting” while setting out the warming trays and food. She scooped pasta and sauce into the pans before lighting the Sterno beneath it. We left the salad in the refrigerator, choosing to dress it later. For dessert there would be wonderful freshly brewed coffee, tiny Italian cookies, and sorbet. And if I knew my croppers, at least one of them would bring a home-cooked goodies.

  We probably had fifteen minutes until the croppers arrived. Cara Mia brought her leather satchel over to my work table where we could peruse the information.

  “Let me just hit the highlights in case we’re interrupted,” she said. “If Horace agrees to sell this building and the parking lot for the original sum or lower, you’ll immediately have enough equity to qualify for a loan at a great rate of interest. Here’s my business banker’s card.”

  For the next five minutes, Cara gave me a crash course in buying commercial real estate. I started to take notes, but she’d written everything down for me in checklist form.

  “So this place is worth more money than the Goldfaders are asking,” I said.

  “As long as the building inspection comes back without any glaring problems, that’s right,” she said. “When they completed that exit off of 40 onto Brentwood, your traffic count doubled. You aren’t taking advantage of it yet, because you need to enlarge your signage and get it lit. Here’s the city code information. I suggest you use Metro Signage. They always stay abreast of the local codes.”

  I studied the sheets she’d labeled with colorful sticky notes. “I need to tell Horace that he’s undervalued the building and the parking lot.”

  Cara said nothing. She sat across from me with a placid expression on her face.

  “You think I’m a fool for wanting to tell him, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. I think you’re a good person with a conscience. That’s how I’ve always seen you, and that’s what you’re proving yourself to be. You have to live with yourself, Kiki. Business is always about finding and exploiting advantages, be they location or talent or product. But you have to find that line between exploitation and unfairness. I think you are doing the right thing by telling Horace about the comps,” and she paused. “It’s entirely possible that he won’t charge you the full amount. You seem to forget, you’ve put in a lot of sweat equity. There aren’t a lot of people who could buy this business and make it work. You can. Even if he could get all the money due him for the building, it’s doubtful that he could sell this scrapbook store to anyone but you. Think about it, Kiki. How many scrapbook stores have you seen go out of business? A lot. It’s a tough market, and scrapbooking isn’t the hot fad it once was. People can buy supplies in the big box stores. Running this place will take a unique skill set. One that you’ve got.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  She sighed. “Has it also occurred to you that as long as this store keeps running, it’s a memorial to Dodie? Maybe Horace is keeping the price affordable because he wants to see you succeed.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. “I suppose a savvy businessperson wouldn’t tell him he’d undervalued the real estate.”

  “Sure, there are times in business when you take advantage of the other person’s lack of knowledge. That’s your edge. You have to view information and your knowledge as if they were tangible assets that you’ve paid to accumulate, because you have. Therefore, they are your edge in the marketplace. But you still have to live with yourself at the end of the day. I think you’re doing the right thing by telling Horace what you’ve found out.” Then she hesitated.

  “And?” I prompted her.

  “And, if there’s any way at all for you to take out a bank loan, I’d advise it. Interest rates have never been lower. Since the building is sure to be valued at more than what you’re paying, any good bank would be happy to work with you. My banker was chomping at the bit.”

  “Then let me ask you about this,” and I told her about the strange phone call I’d gotten from the Ballards’ attorney. “How would you suggest I proceed?”

  “Did he send you the paperwork?”

  “In an email. I assume I need an attorney. The only ones I know are criminal attorneys.”

  “Actually, you’re wrong. You know a great civil attorney with a super brain for trusts, wills, and family law.”

  “I do?”

  “Saul Beck. He goes to your temple, doesn’t he?”

  “Saul? The old guy? He’s always there at temple early? Leaves late. Talks with Sheila. Always compliments Anya. Gives me a hug.”

  “He was at the wedding, too. I saw him sitting near the front row.”

  “Of course he was. I addressed the envelope myself.” I pictured a disheveled man with a rowdy head of white hair and a slow, halting walk. Sure I knew Saul. Everybody at temple did. He was a fixture like the light switches. But an attorney? My face must have shown my surprise. “Saul?”

  Cara laughed. “Probably one of the richest men in town. You wouldn’t think it, would you? That tweed jacket he wears is moth eaten and threadbare. But yes, he’s richer than rich. Sharp as a tack. You never hear about him because he likes it that way, but my father always used Saul for all our family trust work. Here, let me jot down his phone number. I have him on speed dial. In fact, if I were you, I’d have him handle this situation with Horace. He probably knows Horace anyway.”

  Didn’t that just bake the crust on the pizza? Here I’d ignored this doddering old man, except of course to exchange pleasantries, but never realizing he was a brain trust I should get to know on a professional basis.

  “Cara, I owe you,” I said, giving her a hug. “You’re a peach. A bright spot on a gloomy day. That reminds me, are you staying for the crop? Oh, and a woman named Bernice Stottlemeyer is going to stop by and pick up her album around six. She should be here any time.”

  “Bernice? She’s the one you’re doing the adoption album for? How’d you get so lucky?” said Cara with a wry grin. “Unless you really, really need me, I’d rather get home. Sven is having more problems. His hind legs are giving out on him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You know her? Bernice Stottlemeyer?”

  “Sad to say, I’ve had dealings with her.” Cara frowned. “You were lucky that your encounter wasn’t lengthy. When she comes into the restaurant, my staff flips a coin. The loser has to wait on her! Wesley’s okay, but she’s a piece of work. I can’t imagine her as a mother.”

  “Me neither.”

  The front door burst open and our first guests arrived. Cara and I scooped up her paperwork. I gave her a hug and sent her on her way so I could greet my croppers.

  Chapter 63

  Cynthia Farley and Mary-Ellen Lisdale both brought their little girls with them. Cynthia’s daughter Bebe was a particular favorite of mine. When the Farleys had adopted her, the child was seriously underweight. Most eight-month-old babies weigh sixteen to twenty-five pounds, but Bebe only pressed the scale at twelve pounds. And there was another problem. Bebe had been born with a club foot. The child would require surgery to correct it.

  “The agency in Guangzhou almost didn’t let us have her,” Cynthia had told me when Bebe came home with them from China six months ago. “Bebe was underweight, and she wasn’t gaining.”

  “What was the problem?” I had asked.

  “Worms. Malnutrition. Depression. Her birth mother took one look at her deformed foot and refused to nurse her. Left her to die. Honestly, it’s a wonder that she survived. They also warned us that she might never talk or walk.”

  “Wow.” The girl’s saucer-sized brown eyes stared at me intently. “But you still wanted her? I mean, that had to be daunting. Most people are intimidated by the thought of adopting a child with special needs.”

  Cynthia had been rocking Bebe in her arms as she stood there talking to me, fallin
g into that unconscious habit that mothers have, the mimicking of our internal rhythms to sooth ourselves and our offspring. It took her a long time to speak, because her voice was thick with emotion. “Believe me, I wondered whether we should walk away. My mother acted like the voice of doom. She kept reminding me that we had no idea what we were signing up for. But I just couldn’t, Kiki. After I saw her there, lying in that little crib, staring off into space, I thought I’d die if I gave up on her. I could never have lived with myself. If she can’t walk normally, we’ll get braces for her legs or sign her up for PT. If she has cognitive problems, we’ll work with her. Whatever it takes, I’m going to give this baby the best chance at a happy, normal life.”

  Six months later, you wouldn’t have recognized Bebe. Her little arms and legs were appropriately chubby. Yes, she wore a big shoe on one foot, but that didn’t stop her from being as fast as lightning on her feet. She called me, “Keeekeeee,” and held out her arms to me whenever she came to visit. Yes, Miss Bebe knew she’d won my heart. I couldn’t get enough of her!

  Tonight she ran to me, although the rubber rain boots she wore slowed her down considerably. “Boots!” she crowed and pointed to her feet.

  “I see! Those are so cool, Bebe.” The child who’d seemed like a problem had blossomed into a lovely and loving daughter, a delight to all who encountered her. Bebe’s pediatrician had told Cynthia and Jon that it wasn’t the meds or the diet that made the difference.

  “It was the love,” Cynthia had explained. “We gave Bebe a reason to live. And you are part of that. Thanks for your support, Kiki. I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t discovered you and the adoption group. There were times when I didn’t know if we would make it.”

  “You would have,” I said. “But I sure am glad that I was along for the ride.”