Murder Under the Italian Moon (12 page)

I nodded and she left. I locked the door behind Audrey and went to sit in the kitchen. Flash came out of nowhere, checking her empty food dish. I stroked her back, my mind still sorting out what just happened. Something Audrey said triggered a reaction in Larry. Suddenly he not only listened, but he asked questions. About Parker and the aunt. The aunt who
drowned
.

The house phone rang. I picked it up on the second ring and accepted the collect call with trembling hands and my voice quivering.

"Mom." Kyle's voice started the flood of tears again. "Mom, don't cry, please. We need to talk. I only have a few minutes. I didn't do it. Whatever they think I did to Ruby, it isn't true. I would never hurt her; you know that."

"I know, Kyle, I know. We must get you home. Why did you hire Bonnie?"

"I didn't hire Bonnie. I thought you did."

What?
"When did you first talk to her?"

"When you saw me in court."

"Wait, didn't you ask for a lawyer when they arrested you?"

"Sort of. I tried to call you, but you weren't answering, and Carolyn was at that event waiting for me. It all happened so fast. The next thing I knew I was in a cell, and then in the morning I was in court."

"I need to get you a real lawyer."

"Bonnie isn't a lawyer?" He paused. "Mom, I've got to hang up or I'll get in trouble. These people don't kid around, Mom. Sorry, got to—" Click. Silence.

I forgot to ask what jail he was in. He didn't hire Bonnie. Larry had to be more involved in this mess than I first thought. But why? I felt manipulated, used.

All my pent-up emotions turned into anger. I grabbed the containers from Cannon and dumped them in the garbage. Too bad I couldn't do the same to the bearer. I hated the whole world. If only I could get my hands on Ruby. I wished the astrologer had been right. A dead woman would have not swapped cars with my son. Oh, God!

I turned off the lights and went upstairs to my bedroom, aware I wouldn't get much more sleep than the night before. I sat on the unmade bed. Should I take something to help me sleep? Tissues littered my bed from the previous hours of crying. Ruby's chart was among the tissues. I remembered something Audrey said about her aunt. "
They had a lot in common, same age, same astrological sign." Mio dio
. The Ponte Vecchio encounter flashed in my mind's eye in every detail. The only thing I gave to the astrologer was Ruby's birthdate and Los Angeles as the place of birth. No specific time, no details. Who knows how many baby girls could have been born that same day in LA County? Dozens. Hundreds! One of them could have been Audrey's aunt, the one who drowned.
The chart of a dead woman
could be the chart of any woman born the same day as Ruby. Why didn't I think of that before wasting time and energy over a stupid astrological chart, a worthless piece of paper? I tossed the tissues and the chart into the waste basket, then went to the bathroom to wash away my tears. Tonight I would sleep. Tomorrow I would fire Bonnie, hire a real lawyer and get Kyle home. I would not think about Larry, and I would find Ruby.

Flash hopped onto the bed, stretched and then settled next to me. I looked at my faithful pet. Here we were again, the two of us. I scooted closer to Flash and leaned over to turn off the light.

9:00 a.m. I stood in my kitchen, fully dressed. Already had my two cups of coffee and cherry yogurt. I fed the cat and was ready to go.

I took a deep breath and picked up the phone. Before I could punch in a single digit I heard a voice. "Good morning, Lella!"

What? I
must have answered the phone before it had the chance to ring.

"Lella, it's Bonnie. How are you?"
Ticked off and unprepared to speak to you?
"I hear you want to fire me."

"Excuse me?"

"I spoke to Kyle. You can't fire me because you didn't hire me."

"Who hired you, and why?"

"Your son signed the retainer today. Larry 'hired' me originally. I assume out of guilt?"

"Guilt? About what?" Hundreds of thoughts fought in my mind for a chance to leap from my lips to her ear. Instead I sat, stunned by her statement. I let the silence build because I didn't know what to say.

"Lella, you need to trust me." She ignored my question. "I'll take good care of your son. I promise you."

"How is Kyle?" I attempted to head the conversation to a different direction in the hopes that Bonnie would forget my earlier question. I wasn't sure I could handle the answer.

"Not too happy about the situation, but he's getting a better understanding of how the system works and what we need to do to get him home."

I felt a surge of anger. If she was going to take care of Kyle, she would have made sure he didn't have to spend the night in jail. "When can I see him?"

"Late this morning. He is at the men's facility, very close to the courthouse where we were. You'll need identification. Don't bring anything of value inside with you. Dress modestly. No open-toed shoes. Lella, you must be strong. He's a good kid. Let's stick together and sort this mess out." She stopped talking, but somehow I knew she wasn't done. I heard her take a deep breath. "Did you talk to Larry?"

"About what?"

"About the missing woman, Ruby Russell. I understand you're best friends."

I hesitated. "I saw Larry last evening, but he was in a hurry." I avoided the Cannon details. "I guess we didn't get to talk about Ruby. What do you need to know?"

"I'll put together a list after I see Kyle. I'm expecting a complete police report."

She said goodbye. She didn't wait for me to answer her before she hung up on me.

I will not cry
. I couldn't cry. Flash rubbed against my leg. She sensed my despair. I went upstairs and, like a mechanical doll, I changed from my suit to slacks and a sweater. Removed my jewelry, grabbed my purse, my car keys and out the door I went.
I will not cry.

Driving always had a calming effect. Away from phone, television and distractions, I could sort out my thoughts and make sense of my often negative reasoning. Or I could have a good cry and feel renewed afterward.

Larry hired Bonnie to represent Kyle out of guilt. Guilt about what? Larry never met Kyle. Their paths never crossed. I needed to talk to Larry. I left the house feeling so stressed and confused that I couldn't remember if I put the cell phone in my purse. There was no way of pulling off the freeway. I didn't want to miss the visiting hours. I had no idea how long it would take me to find parking and fill out whatever forms were needed to get to see my son. The Larry puzzle would have to wait.

Much to my surprise, everything went well. The sheriff ran a smooth operation. Waiting for Kyle to get to the phone was the most painful part before the visit. I wasn't sure how I would react, how he would look or sound. The shuffling of his shackled feet when he exited the courtroom still tore my heart to pieces.

Then I saw him. He sat, and we looked at each other, separated by a thick glass. I was unable to reach over to touch him, to hold his hand. I wasn't even sure this was a private conversation. I remembered Larry's warning. "
And every word gets recorded."

My brain knew it was my imagination, but my heart decided Kyle had lost weight overnight. We each picked up a phone.

"Hi, Mom." His voice didn't sound like his voice at all.

I swallowed my tears. The last thing Kyle needed was a weeping mother.

"Mom, what's up with you and Larry Devin?"

"What?" I felt my mouth open and stay that way, like a fish on a hook.

"Bonnie said your friend Larry is picking up the tab for my defense, and I'm sure it's not a small bill. Is he someone from the mission? A friend of Dad's?"

"No, no. Larry's a—retired detective…who…" I stopped short of saying "who won the lottery."

"Well, he is also a friend of Bonnie's. Maybe she's giving him a discount. Why do you want to keep Bonnie as your lawyer?"

"She came over last night after I called you. She isn't the type of lawyer who gets pushed around. Some of the guys, I mean the other, you know, prisoners"—I could see the embarrassment on his face when he mentioned anything related to the prison—"they must know who she is. They were high-fiving me, like I won the lottery." I blushed when he mentioned the lottery.
Damn you, Larry Devin.
I nodded my encouragement as he went on. "She stayed for over an hour. I understand much better what this is all about. It's just a matter of figuring out where Ruby is holed up with my Porsche, and I'm out of here."

I looked at him a long time. Was this my Kyle? I came here to comfort him, a ton of tissues in my pocket, and instead he was cheering me up. "Kyle, you are so right. Where can she possibly be? Certainly the police must be looking for her and your Porsche. Perhaps we can think about places she may be at and then we can compare notes? Do you have access to writing material? Should I go get you some?"

"Mom, that's a good idea. I have paper and a pencil, and I'll work on it. Do you think maybe she went back to Parker after she left Palm Springs with my car?"

We spent the last ten minutes analyzing more places Ruby was likely to be, but the big question was left unasked.
Why?
Why would Ruby put Kyle's life in jeopardy? Regardless of where she was, surely she must read the papers, listen to the radio and watch the news. Unless—
the chart of a dead woman. Stop it.

"Mom, you don't need to hurry here to see me every day, really. I'm in a section for people who haven't gone to court yet, and it's not so bad. I'm a big boy, you know." He killed me and kept on smiling.
I
t was likely a ton wouldn't be nearly enough tissues.

Was Bonnie behind this? Not seeing him every day?

Visiting time was over, and Kyle was spared the paranoia burgeoning in my eyes
at least, that was what I figured he'd see if I stayed any longer.

Kyle was ready to fight this on his own, without my help, a side of him I hadn't discovered before. Then again, we hadn't shared much quality time together in the last few years. Sure, we exchanged weekly phone calls as generic as Sunday sermons. Now and then we would eat together on the run because Kyle always seemed to be stopping by on his way to here or from there. Somehow Mom's place was never the destination, only the quick stop in between. Dear God, what was happening to me? All these negative thoughts about my poor son. Like the old saying goes, it takes two to tango. The time Kyle managed to spend with me seemed to originate from a sense of duty, but I couldn't honestly say I did much to improve the relationship, perhaps because up till now, I hadn't suspected it could use improvement.

I couldn't remember the last time we did something spontaneous together, something just for the fun of it. Every mother-and-son activity was pre-planned and served a definite purpose always aimed at accomplishing a specific outcome. Often I would be asked to go to a movie premiere, in particular if Kyle's role was of a naive young family man. It made me feel important; it made me feel needed. Life just served me a slice of reality, a slice big enough to gag me.

Driving home after my visit with Kyle, it hit me that Flash was the only living being who needed me, because she couldn't get her bag of food out of the cupboard.

A sense of nothingness seized my brain, erasing the elation of my night with Larry, the illusion of my revamped sexuality. Once again, guilt prevailed. Had I been home, Kyle would have been able to reach me, and perhaps I could have kept him from spending time in jail. If my son and I were closer, I would have offered him my car for his business trip. I would have turned the Ferrari over to the police. That was what real mothers did. They took care of their children instead of cavorting with men they barely knew. I felt old, unwanted and unloved. A failure in every aspect of life.

All this
mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa
meant nothing, of course. The more I beat myself up, the more I realized the real problem had little to do with the agonizing, Catholicism-induced guilt trip. All I needed was one person: Ruby. Find Ruby and force her to go the police and tell the truth.
Voila
. Simple. Problem solved.

What if I couldn't find Ruby?

Nonsense. Knowing Ruby, she was in some hotel with the stranger
du jour
, trying to fill the void left by Tom's death. She had a short attention span when it came to men. At some point she would come back home; she had to.
Home?
What home? She never spoke of relatives or good friends living outside California. If she drove Kyle's Porsche anywhere, she would attract attention. The police had the description, and this was no ordinary car. Of course, all this common sense was for my own benefit. I had to find something or someone to focus blame on before I lost my mind.

Ruby was that someone. And it appeared I was her only friend. Would she come knocking at my door?

I kept my speed under the limit. I didn't want to go home to my empty house. I could use a hug, a friendly voice, a shoulder to cry on. Maybe I should go to a busy shopping center, lose myself in the crowd. I had to face the truth: I had isolated myself. Ruby had been the main presence in my life outside of Kyle, and now here I was, alone. I wasn't about to call Larry.
Stop thinking about Larry, and make yourself useful. Feed your cat.

I had been home for less than ten minutes when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Lella, you're home." Larry's voice was full of relief. I, too, felt a wave of relief and other mixed emotions, but for different reasons than his, for sure. "You need to pack an overnight bag. I'll pick you up in a few hours."

I decided to play along. "Where are we going?"

"To my place." Over the phone came sounds of engines, traffic, horns blowing and brakes screeching. "Fucking idiots. Sorry about that. Truckers are racing with each other; they barely missed me."

"Where are you?" No sarcasm now.