Authors: Carol Davis Luce
“
Thursday the fourteenth.”
The day he was supposed to leave for Michigan.
Her life was over.
Regina had flatly refused John’s suggestion to go to Napa. She had Kristy to consider, not to mention airing a live show the following day. Besides, she saw no reason to go.
She had dropped John at the apartment house before going back to KSCO to finish out the day. But unable to concentrate, she had turned everything over to the production secretary, left the station, and walked aimlessly for hours.
At 3:30 that afternoon she collected her mail and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She was tired. The morning’s tension and excitement had carried her through the afternoon, but now, coming down at last, she felt drained.
She sorted through her mail and opened first the plain white envelope with no return address. The envelope contained a newspaper clipping and nothing more. The headline on the article read:
Novato Woman Murdered
Carmenita Flores, 27, was found dead this morning in her duplex in Novato, California. The body was discovered by her roommate when she returned from a weekend trip to San Francisco. Novato Police Sgt. Larry Hawkins said the woman’s throat had been slashed from ear to ear. No weapon was found.
The victim had been bound and gagged before she was killed. Neighbors on the quiet residential street neither saw nor heard anything suspicious prior to the discovery of the body. Hawkins declined to comment on the similarity of this slaying and the attempted murder of a woman a week ago in Mill Valley. There are no suspects.
What the hell was this all about? she wondered? Who was Carmenita Flores? And who had sent this? She suspected it was from the same person who’d called her at home and again at work with those curious clues and leads. At the bottom of the clipping, an address had been penciled in.
She put the clipping in the Miss Classic file folder, began to unzip her skirt and headed for her bedroom. The answering machine on the nightstand was beeping. Regina pressed the button.
“
Regina, it’s Donna. Call me, it’s important.”
Regina removed her clothes and wrapped herself in a turquoise kimono, then called the hospital. A nurse informed her that Mrs. Lake was recovering from surgery.
Surgery? The skin graft, of course, Regina thought. Donna would be in no mood to talk. She made a mental note to call again in the morning.
Regina took her wine and reclined in the low armchair, her bare feet on the ottoman. She closed her eyes. Behind her lids John’s face materialized. Something tugged inside her. She opened her eyes and stared out the window.
This man was getting to her. This handsome, personable, clever man was getting to her in a very serious way.
She closed her eyes again, reliving the two times he had kissed her. She felt a burning flush radiating through her body at the memory. Was he that good, that sensual? Or was it only that she was starved for sex and the touch of a desirable man?
The door suddenly burst open. Kristy and Sonya rushed in.
“
Mom, guess what?” Kristy said, her eyes bright, her cheeks rosy. “We made it. Sonya and I both made it!”
“
Made what?”
“
The second cuts, that’s what. Miss Golden Gate. We’re in, Mom. In like skin.”
“
Both of you?” Regina asked, trying to show an enthusiasm she did not feel, could never feel. “That’s wonderful.”
“
There are ten of us now. We do a fashion layout on and around the bridge next weekend to determine the final contestants,” Sonya said.
“
Mom, Sonya and her folks are going to Lake Tahoe for the weekend, they want me to go. Can I?”
“
What about your job?”
“
I’m not scheduled till Monday.”
“
Please, Regina,” Sonya pleaded.
“
When will you leave?”
“
As soon as Kristy gets her
stuff ...
if it’s okay, that is.”
“
All right, yes. Go.” Regina realized she would feel better if Kristy was out of town.
The two girls clasped hands and spun around.
“
God, can you believe it? We’re in the top ten. There’s no stopping us.”
“
Congratulations,” a male voice said.
Regina twisted around in the chair to see John leaning against the doorframe.
“
Hey, John, you heard?” Kristy said. “Isn’t it rad?”
“
If inherited looks count for anything, you’ll make it to the finals.” He glanced at Regina.
“
We’re just thrilled we got this far.” Kristy turned to Sonya. “If we don’t go any farther, we’ll be satisfied.”
The two girls looked at each other, paused, then shrieked, “Yeah,
right!”
Then they laughed, threw arms around each other, and hurried off to Kristy’s room.
John shook his head and chuckled as he sauntered into the room. “Great kids.”
Regina pulled her kimono tightly together, self-conscious with him standing over her. She uncrossed her ankles only to cross them again.
He laid a hand on the back of her chair. His finger traced the pattern of a brocade flower. In a quiet voice he said, “I’m going to Napa tonight. Come with me.”
“
John,” she started with a tone of exasperation. “Kristy--”
“—
Is spending the weekend with Sonya and her parents,” he cut in. “She’s in good hands and you know it.”
“
I have a TV program to put on tomorrow.”
“
We’ll get back in plenty of time.”
“
Yes, but--”
“
I’m going with or without you. If you go with me then I won’t have to worry about you ...
alone
here.”
“
That’s dirty pool,” she said tightly, feeling a sudden coldness at the back of her neck.
“
That’s how desperate I am.” He took a wisp of her hair between two fingers and rubbed it softly.
“
What good will it do to go to Napa. If she has an alibi--?”
“
That’s just it, on the afternoon that Tammy died she doesn’t have an alibi. I called her mother in Napa. She saw her daughter for only a few minutes on Saturday morning. Amelia, it seems, had to cut the visit short to meet a business associate.”
Regina sat up. “You can’t possibly believe that she drove into the city, went into a health club, and killed Tammy?”
“
No. But I do believe she rendezvoused with the killer that afternoon. Why else would she lie? I checked on this guy Kincade. There’s no such person. There’s no Global Model Enterprises.”
Biting down on her lower lip, she swung her legs to the floor, stood, crossed to the kitchen counter, opened the file folder, and pulled out the pink message paper. “Someone with an alibi is lying,” she read aloud. Then she picked up the newspaper article and took it to John.
She watched his face as he read. He looked up to stare solemnly into her eyes.
“
I’ll meet you downstairs in half an hour,” she said.
They took Highway 101 to Novato and reached the address on the clipping at 5:45 pm. 433 Arbor was a brick duplex surrounded by concrete and colored gravel. On a narrow strip of grass that lined the driveway, a pretty young woman in a bikini lay on a beach towel, reading.
“
This is the unexciting part of investigating,” John said, eyeing the woman. “The interview.”
Regina’s smile seemed weak, unamused. They left the car and walked up the driveway to the woman, who had put down her book to watch their approach.
“
Hi,” John said.
“
Hi.”
“
My name is John Davie and this is Regina Van Raven. Do you live here?”
She nodded, her hand shading her eyes. “Beverly.”
“
Beverly, we’re private investigators from San Francisco. Was Carmenita Flores your roommate?”
“
That’s right.”
“
Mind if we ask a few questions?”
“
I guess not.” She gestured for him to step left.
He shifted until his shadow fell across her face. “We read about Ms. Flores’s murder in the newspaper and we wondered if there might be a connection between her death and several other crimes committed recently in the city. Did your roommate receive any warnings? Was anyone harassing her? Did she say anything to you that would indicate she felt she was in danger?”
“
Not really. Carm was quiet. Kept her thoughts to herself. I met her after her little girl died, and she was bitter—y’know, sort of hard.”
“
What happened to her daughter?”
“
Defective heart. She was only two when she died. That was eight months ago.”
“
Did Carmenita date or have a steady guy?”
The woman shook her head. “No, not that I knew of. She was very pretty, but just didn’t seem interested.” She thought for a moment. “I told the police there was one peculiar thing. A few days before she was killed, I’d picked up the extension, not knowing she was using the phone. Anyway, this guy says ‘now that you’re off the hook, don’t think you can cross me.’”
“
Off the hook?”
“
I think she’d been in trouble at some point in her life.”
“
You’re sure it was a man?”
“
Well, I thought so at the time. The voice was very deep, raspy sounding.”
CHAPTER 27
John and Regina entered the lobby of the Meadowvale Inn at 6:30 P.M. and made their way to the registration desk. A plaque on the counter read, Sorry, No Vacancy.
“
Is that for real?” Pointing at the sign, John asked the young woman behind the counter whose name tag read Rachel. She was probably the one he had spoken to on the phone when he’d called impersonating Judge Corde.
“
Yes, sir. Unless you have a reservation, we’re booked. The Napa Valley Chateau may have accommodations.”
“
We had our heart set on staying here. The Cordes rave about this place.”
“
Judge Corde?”
“
That’s right. They said they were coming sometime in June, but for the life of me I can’t remember which weekend.”
“
You’ve missed them, I’m afraid. He and Mrs. Corde were here last week.”
“
It’s just as well. You see, we’ve just come from that little chapel down the road and we don’t really relish company,” John took Regina’s hand. “But if there’s no room available ...”
Rachel’s large brown eyes looked apologetic. The phone at her elbow buzzed. She excused herself and answered. A moment later she was smiling at them as she slid a guest registration form across to John. She hung up. “Your luck is changing. That was a last-minute cancellation.”
Ten minutes later they were in room 142. Regina put her handbag on the dresser and turned to survey the charming room with its French country decor, its terrace, fireplace, and queen-size bed.
She noticed John’s gaze had swept the room to end up where hers had—on the only bed.