Deb baker, p.16
Deb Baker, page 16
After that, his mother disappeared.
Did he return for revenge and kill her, leaving her decaying body in the armoire?
If an enthusiastic family genealogist showed up asking questions, delving into his past, he might have arranged to meet her at the cemetery. He might have murdered her.
Everything made sense.
If Allison found Richard and told him of her plan to search through the family’s past, that meant he was near, close enough to lure Allison into the cemetery to silence her forever.
Richard might be living under an assumed name. Or he could be one of the homeless that Gretchen had seen at the rescue mission or at the soup kitchen.
Richard Berringer could be anyone.
Caroline’s phone rang, interrupting Gretchen’s thoughts of murder. Her mother, immersed in reading an item on the Internet, handed it to Gretchen without looking at the caller ID.
“We went to pick up the dogs from your house,” Nina said. “A cop stopped us outside. Then your honey showed up.”
Gretchen heard April whooping in the background. “What a man!” came through loud and clear.
“Quiet down, April,” Nina said. Her aunt sounded tense. “I can’t hear myself think.”
“You didn’t tell him where I was, did you?” Several library patrons glanced toward her. She rose from her chair and walked out into the entryway for privacy.
“No, I didn’t tell him,” Nina said. “But only because I promised you I wouldn’t. Isn’t he on the same side as we are? I don’t get it.”
“Someone tried to kill your sister,” Gretchen said, keeping the threatening note and concerns about her own safety out of the conversation. “Matt doesn’t want to give us the chance to help her. He wants to place us under lock and key. If he had his way, we’d be behind bars while he machos around.”
“He’s so protective, not to mention smart,” her aunt said. “Let him take care of both of you. Your last reading was a bad one. You need all the help you can get, and he’s one explosive package to have on your side.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I have to be my own woman.” Nina wouldn’t understand her inner turmoil. She needed to say it out loud, to listen to herself, determine if she was acting like a kook.
“You’re still reacting to the split from that control freak,” Nina said. “Matt isn’t Steve.”
Gretchen had allowed herself to be marginalized in the past, and it would never, ever happen again. She could and would protect herself and her mother from whatever life threw at them, which was why they were in the library at the moment.
Whether or not it made sense to others didn’t matter. It was what she had to do, and her independent mother felt the same way. Together, nothing could stop them. She hoped.
“Did you get the pets?” she asked Nina.
“Matt let us take them, but Wobbles took one look at the crate I was going to put him in, and he did a disappearing act. After I looked and looked without finding him, Matt said he’d stop by frequently and take care of him.”
“How is he going to get inside?” Gretchen said. “The only people with keys are you, me, and Mom. Oh no. You didn’t? You gave him your key.”
“He thought someone had been inside the house.”
“What!”
“Matt’s keeping an eye on things.”
“Is anything missing?”
“Matt asked me to look around. I didn’t find anything missing.”
“Are you sure nothing’s missing?”
“How can I be sure? Your workshop is filled with stuff. The television is still here, though.”
Great.
“Matt’s taking care of us.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“He wants you to call him.”
“Yes,” Gretchen said. “I’m sure he does.”
35
Andy Thomasia sat up from a crouched position in the backseat of Gretchen’s car. Instinctively a scream of terror rose into her throat. She swallowed it down, tasting bile.
You deserve this, she thought.
She was outside the library, alone, her car parked in an isolated back corner of the lot. Her mother was inside, unaware that her daughter had even left the building. Gretchen hadn’t checked the backseat. She hadn’t seen him until it was too late. She was already inside the car, checking her cell phone’s car charger to see if the phone had full power. Gretchen couldn’t possibly have been this careless.
But she had been.
Andy wore the same dark sunglasses and Cardinals ball cap that he’d had on yesterday, but his clothes were different. They were dirty, torn, and too large for his body. Nacho had done a thorough job of turning him into a homeless person.
“I locked my car,” she said. “How did you get in?” Did her voice give her away? Could he hear the fear?
Andy held up a long, narrow strip of metal. “I got in with this,” he said. The tool was a lock-picking device like those cops used to open locked cars. Andy’s voice was neutral, not threatening or overly aggressive. Not friendly either.
The inside of the car was stifling hot, having sat in the sun for hours. She felt a slick layer of sweat against her skin.
“Why did you break into my car?” Gretchen spoke quietly and calmly. She had more than a few questions for the murdered woman’s husband. “I told you that we’d contact you.”
She had a firm grip on the door handle in case she had to make a run for it. No one was around to help her.
Andy leaned forward. She didn’t move. Gretchen had been wary of Andy before. Now she was downright terrified.
“I’m here because I have new information,” Andy said. “I need to get it to Caroline. I hadn’t expected you to come out alone.”
Gretchen couldn’t read him, not his voice or his expression.
“I didn’t expect you either,” she said, turning her body so her back was against the steering wheel, as far from him as possible. “My mother’s inside the library. I’ll relay the message to her.”
“You don’t trust me, do you?”
“Of course I do,” Gretchen lied. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to help you.”
“I didn’t kill Allison. I loved her. Even if we weren’t able to work out our problems, I would have continued to support her dreams. Allison’s fantasy doll line was taking off,” he said. “She was starting to make money, finally breaking in. I wanted her to succeed.”
“I’m sure you did.” Was her tone patronizing? She hoped not. “Did Allison make an earlier trip to Arizona?”
“Yes. She was here in March, doing initial research. I wish she’d never come back here. If only I’d known.”
“What did you want to tell my mother?”
Still no one passing by the car.
“Nacho made the rounds this morning looking for a guy,” he said. “Apparently someone was in the cemetery the night that Allison was killed, who wasn’t part of the normal homeless community. But he didn’t tell the cops that.”
“The street people don’t like cops much,” Gretchen said.
Andy nodded. “For good reason, I’m finding out.”
“And this guy?”
“He’s a common crook type who runs some action on the street. Nacho found him. He told Nacho he was hired to rob me.”
“By whom?”
“He never met his contact.”
“Convenient.”
Andy nodded. “This thug was paid to pick my pocket, steal my wallet, remove the driver’s license, and replace the wallet. And it had to happen on a certain day.”
“What day?”
Andy looked pained. “The day Allison was murdered,” he said. “The person who hired him made it very clear that I wasn’t to suspect anything was missing. And it worked. The guy was smooth. I didn’t notice a thing.”
Gretchen watched Andy’s face. Was he making this up?
“The guy would get paid double for the next part of the deal.”
“Which was what?”
“He was supposed to drop my driver’s license in the cemetery at a specific time. The guy ran late getting there though, so instead he threw it in a bush by the entrance when he saw the cops pull up. After that he was trapped and taken in along with all the others that were rounded up for questioning.”
“So your driver’s license is in the cemetery.”
Andy shook his head. “The cops have it by now.”
What an unbelievable story! Gretchen had to get out of the car, get away from Andy Thomasia, and run for the safety of the building.
He grabbed her shoulder. “Don’t you see?” he said. “Someone planned the whole thing ahead of time. Allison’s death was premeditated, not some random act of violence. And I was supposed to be arrested for her murder.”
Gretchen pulled away from his grip, carefully arranging her face to convey compassion and understanding. “Then go to the guy who robbed you and make him cooperate. Turn yourself in and have him substantiate your story.”
“Nacho said the guy wouldn’t help me, and Nacho wouldn’t give me his name. And why should the guy help me? He’d be incriminating himself.”
“Andy.” Gretchen had to make her move to escape before it was too late. “How did you find us at the library so easily?” she asked. Would she have time to grab her phone from the charger? Not likely. She’d have to leave it behind.
Andy leaned back in the seat, which was what Gretchen was waiting for. “It was the strangest thing,” he said. “I told Nacho that I wanted to find Caroline. Not long afterward, he gave me your location. It’s like there’s some kind of communication system, but I don’t know how it—”
Gretchen slammed her body against the driver’s door at the same time that she released the handle. The door flew open and she was out. If Andy had a weapon besides the lock pick, she hadn’t seen it yet.
She broke into a run, aiming straight for the library, relieved that she didn’t hear him chasing her. Every muscle in her body was taut, and she was very aware of her exposed back.
She gained the steps leading into the library. Several other patrons were also entering.
The only sound Gretchen could hear was her own ragged, frightened breath.
36
A librarian tapped Gretchen on the shoulder. “We’re closing in five minutes,” she said.
Late Saturday afternoon and the Birch women had nowhere to go.
Caroline had previously downplayed her old friend’s actions. She’d wanted to believe in Andy’s innocence; she’d known him for so long as a friend, and as more. But she reluctantly sided with Gretchen after hearing about the incident in the car.
Caroline’s defense of Andy ended when she learned that his driver’s license had been dropped at the murder scene. Had it happened the way he told it or had Andy lost it after killing his wife? Anything was possible. They would no longer take chances, even when dealing with old flames.
Andy now had the backing of the homeless community thanks to their foolhardy confidence in him. They would have to find Nacho or Daisy and rectify that. Otherwise the homeless people could continue to help Andy locate them.
“Saturday night,” Gretchen said. “We’ll never find them.”
“Let it go,” Caroline said. “We don’t have any proof that Andy is a murderer. Besides, we promised to give him two days. If we don’t discover anything useful by then, we’ll turn the entire problem over to the police along with the information we have so far.”
“We can’t go back to the car,” Gretchen said. “He might be waiting.”
“Even if he’s not, Nacho and his tribal drumbeaters know what we’re driving.” Caroline gave her a weak smile. “I never thought I’d have to hide from Daisy and Nacho’s street family.”
“Or from Matt,” Gretchen added. “I’d like to get my cell phone out of the car, though.”
“Really, Gretchen, you’re too attached to that thing. We have mine.”
They called a cab and gave the driver the address of the banquet hall. On the way, they contacted Nina and April and asked them to meet them there. “Leave your cars someplace else,” Gretchen advised them. “As many blocks away as you can comfortably walk. We wouldn’t want anyone to pass the building and see familiar cars parked right in front of it.”
Within an hour, the four women were sitting with an oversized Barbie doll on the edge of the stage, eating burgers picked up by the ever-ravenous April.
Tutu, Nimrod, and Enrico whizzed around the room, playing chase games and looking for mischief while Caroline and Gretchen brought Nina and April up-to-date.
“You need to get into witness protection,” April said when they were finished.
“I don’t think they have those kinds of programs anymore,” Nina replied.
Gretchen addressed her aunt. “Why don’t you use your psychic powers to help us out? It’s worked in the past. Can’t you put out a distress call?”
“Mayday, Mayday.” April giggled.
“I can’t perform on demand. Messages come in randomly, and they aren’t one hundred percent reliable.”
“Walk backward,” April suggested. “I heard it helps stimulate psychics.”
“The exercise isn’t about walking backward. I’m supposed to think backward,” Nina said. “And it isn’t appropriate for this case.”
“What if you held an object and concentrated,” Caroline said. “Would that work?”
“Like what?” Nina asked, looking doubtful.
“I know,” April said around a cheek filled with burger. “A piece of the skeleton would be good. Except I’m sure the police removed it from the house.”
“Yuck. I’m not touching any dead person’s bones.”
“It should be something connected to the victims,” Caroline said.
“What about the photograph?” Gretchen said, remembering that she had a copy of it in her purse.
“I held it before and didn’t feel a thing.” Nina drained her soda and set it down on the stage floor. “But I’m pretty sure the killer is male.”
“We already suspect a man,” April said. “That isn’t useful information.”
“What’s your reason for believing it’s a man, Nina?” Gretchen wanted to hear everyone’s conclusions. Maybe something would jump out at them. Other than ghosts.
“I think a man killed Allison and the same man is after you, because I have trouble ‘reading’ men.” Nina held her fingers up in quotation marks. “When we went near that neighbor’s house, I got a powerful incoming message. And there was a reason for it. They knew something important, yet disturbing. Women are easy. Men, I can’t do.”
“In other words,” Gretchen said for clarification, which tended to be a difficult task when dealing with Nina, “when we found the bones in the wardrobe, if the corpse’s killer had been a woman, you believe that you would have known that through a feeling or a message.”
“Right. But I didn’t, so it’s a man.” She glanced around the group. “I think.”
Gretchen heard footsteps overhead.
“Mr. B.,” April said, shifting her eyes to the ceiling.
Heavy shoes banged down the stairs from the apartment above. A moment later, Mr. B. entered the room. “Thought I heard something down here,” he said. “What are you doing rehearsing on a Saturday night?”
“We’re not,” Caroline said. “We’re just going over some of the finer points.”
“Four good-looking women like you should have dates.”
After a couple minutes of polite conversation he left, banging back up the steps, leaving behind the scent of cherry pipe tobacco. Gretchen sighed. Mr. B. was right. She should be out with Matt.
What was all this drama doing to their relationship?
Did they still have one?
37
The four women reflected on the stories about Flora’s son Richard related to them by Nora and Bea Wade.
“Does mental disease run in families?” April asked when the story was over.
“Genes account for so much,” Caroline said.
“That’s right.” Nina stroked Tutu from the canine’s seat of power on her lap. “Look at our family. We’re spiritual and we have special abilities.” She glanced sharply at Gretchen. “If only we’d accept them.”
Caroline, the oldest, was the most knowledgeable about psychiatric procedures practiced in the seventies and eighties.
“Shock therapy was big,” she said. “And could be given against a patient’s will.”
“I’ve seen it in movies,” April added. “Patients were strapped down to tables with no anesthesia and all those wires attached to their bodies. Then the seizures. I can’t even think about it without feeling faint.”
Caroline nodded. “Electroshock was used to treat depression.”
Gretchen had done her Internet homework. “And schizophrenia.”
Nina chimed in. “Anybody with emotional problems in those days was labeled schizophrenic.”
“That’s correct,” Caroline said. “The label was overused. But as far as electroshock goes, we learned at the library that over a million people each year still receive it. Of course, now the procedure is voluntary.”
“Who would do that?” April said. “How creepy.”
Gretchen was overwhelmed by the amount of information they’d discovered. “I think everything we’ve discussed tonight should remain between us.”
“What happens in the banquet hall,” April said with a grin, “stays in the banquet hall.”
“Seriously,” Caroline said. “Very soon, we’ll go to the police.”
“Where do we go from here?” Nina said.
Gretchen looked over at her mother. She didn’t like the plan they had concocted on the way over in the cab. It had been her mother’s idea, and Gretchen couldn’t really see the point, but she didn’t have a better idea.
“Here’s our idea,” she said, jumping into what she was sure would be extremely hot water.
38
When the women leave the banquet hall, Jerome rises up from behind the stage curtain and stretches out his cramped muscles. Lucky for him, he heard them fumbling around with the lock and whispering. If they’d found him asleep in a stage chair, he’d have been screwed. In the nick of time, he took a dive behind the stage and didn’t move a single muscle.
