The Fallen Angels Book Club (26 page)

“Hell.” He looked at me in disgust and shoved me roughly into a corner.

I fell to the floor as he dashed out of the office. I could hear the facility's rear door slam. I rubbed my mouth and neck and slowly got to my feet. There was light coming into the room from the doorway and I made my way gingerly toward the source.

Someone screamed.

I
pulled myself together and stumbled as fast as I could into the hallway. Marla lay on her back, her hands across her chest. Opal leaned over her. I half-ran to them.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Opal covered her mouth.

I tasted blood from my cut lip and looked down at my dust-covered clothes. “I'll be fine. What happened to Marla?”

Opal straightened. “I don't know. I found her like this. I think it's a heart attack. She's barely breathing. I called nine-one-one on my cell.”

I kneeled next to my old friend and held her limp hand in mine. Her chest rose only slightly with each breath.

Please don't die.

The nurse hustled in the hospital room and took Marla's vitals. I wasn't the cause of her heart attack, but no one could convince me my delay in catching Joseph hadn't contributed.

I felt the beginning of a tear as I watched Marla sleeping. She looked so frail, all and more of her seventy-nine years. Her cheeks were hollow and her skin seemed thin as gauze. I leaned over and brushed back a curl that had drifted into her eyes. She stirred and looked at me, this time with recognition.

“Well, I must be alive if you're here.” She winced as she turned her head. “What happened, sweetie?”

“You had a heart attack. The doctor was just here and said she'd be back to look in on you this evening. Don't you remember talking to her?”

Marla frowned. “I'm not sure. It seems like a dream. How do I know this isn't a dream?”

I smiled. “I'm here to tell you that you're alive and well. I'm so very happy to see you.”

A small smile creased her face. Then she looked alarmed. “Hollis, is Lily okay? Did you follow Joseph? Was he arrested?” She licked her parched lips and pointed to the plastic pitcher. “Can I have some water, please?”

“There's probably a reason why the pitcher is empty and I'm not getting into trouble for you again. Dr. Francis will be here shortly.” I sat down on the bed. “Lily is fine. She sends her best wishes. She misses you.”

“Coward.” She licked her lips again. “That's good about Lily. What about Joseph?”

“Joseph is gone. He got away.” Marla's heart attack was all the distraction he needed to slip away before the police came. “By the way, Opal has been here every day to visit. When I came yesterday she told me his escape was a perfect solution because it saved the center from going through the bad publicity and legal harangue.”

A few beads of sweat appeared on her brow.

“So he's free to hurt others, again.”

“Oh, I don't know. I think he's running out of rocks to slide under.” I bent over and dabbed her forehead with a tissue. “The police have his prints, and it turns out he and Dr. Walker were working together. Walker was arrested and ratted out … I mean he gave information about Joseph. He felt no loyalty to his partner. Both of them will be going to prison for a very long time. It wasn't just Lily they were hurting, but two other residents, the ones who were bedridden, were also getting the wrong medication.” I straightened her covers. “I'm sorry it took so long to nail Joseph. You were right about everything.”

“Stop it right now,” Marla snapped with some force. “You put yourself out there for us.”

“But I—”

“No, there's nothing to forgive.” Her head sank back into the pillow. “So, now, sweetie you can forgive yourself.” Closing her eyes, she fell asleep.

Lily motioned me to come over to the table where she sat. Tiny discreetly left us alone.

“You're looking a lot better than you were the last time I was here.” I sat down. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel much better.” She picked at the armrest on her wheelchair. “Marla told me you saved my life.”

“I think that's an exaggeration. Marla saved your life.”

“Don't argue with me, Hollis. It isn't attractive.”

Lily patted my arm, gently took my chin and turned me to face her. “I've decided to have a conversation with Avery Mitchell. He doesn't understand me the way you do. I want you to handle my trust. You can be my representative. You'll do just fine.” She kissed me on my forehead. “Yes, you'll do just fine.”

I couldn't speak. My words were blocked in my throat.

I confirmed Lily's house appraisal with Putnum for the end of the week. I'd go in the day before and inventory all of the items she wanted designated as bequests.

Rena called the office and left a message to contact her only if I couldn't meet at Caron Bistro for dinner. I looked forward to an evening of talking about something other than what was going on with my life. Since Mark had left, I had even less reason to be social with my fellow workers, and I was hungry.

Caron's was designed for intimacy. It was divided up into large cubicle-sized rooms with two or three tables each. For those who liked to eat outdoors, its veranda offered large round tables sheltered by dark green umbrellas to protect from the sun. Tall standing heaters were for colder days.

Rena gave me a hug. Mark, too. We chose the veranda.

We exchanged social amenities and ordered glasses of wine.

Mark was visibly relaxed and seemingly back to his old self. “Do you miss me?”

“It's only been a few days.” I took a sip. “How are you getting along?”

“Not bad. Fortunately, there's always a place in a successful firm for an ambitious associate attorney. This time I'm being picky. I want to make sure I take the opportunity to interview the firm.”

Rena smiled. “Mark was asked to come back for a second interview with McCloud's.”

I nodded in acknowledgment. Headquartered in San Francisco, McCloud's was the biggest law firm in the country, maybe even the world. “Do you think you'll like working for a legal machine that portions out the law?”

Mark leaned forward. “I told them to give me a niche where I could excel. It didn't matter how small.” He sat back. “Anyway, we're just talking. We'll see if the second interview goes as well as the first.”

I hoped my skepticism didn't show on my face. The legal community was an active rumor mill that could make or break reputations. The waitress brought our food.

I turned to Rena. “How about you? Read any good books lately?”

She gave me a horrified look. “Hollis, how can you ask that? I'm scared to death. The police don't seem to know any more about that note than I do.”

I wanted to kick myself for being so tacky. “Sorry. I've been obsessing over the whole thing. Maybe the note was planted on you to throw us off. I think the killer is finished and just wants us to think there's more to come.”

Mark wrinkled his brow. “Huh? I don't get it.”

“Suppose the killer only wanted to kill Rory. Then he murdered Abby because she might be able to identify him.” I took a breath. “Bill is part of this, too. He was Rory's partner. He had to die because he knew too much, or maybe because he got too greedy.”

“Who's Bill?” Rena asked.

“Her ex-husband,” Mark said. “Okay, let's take this further. Why would a book club member make the murders so obvious?”

So much for getting together with friends and talking about something other than my problems. I ran my hands through my hair. “Maybe the book murders were a decoy. Whoever did the killings wants to implicate all of us. It all goes back to Rory and—and a threat to someone who can't afford to take a risk.”

I pondered that. “What I can't put my brain around is the killer must have been blackmailed by Rory and read our books. He deliberately chose specific books so he could copy the murder.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asked.

“I went through our selections for the past six months. Rory was killed like our last selection, but Abby was killed like the spy thriller we read three months before that. I'm still trying to figure out if the killer read the book and then set up the murder or if he located the book that had the murder he wanted.” As I thought out loud, some of the pieces started to fall into place. “The books in between were memoirs and self-help manuals. They were too complicated for a murderer to mimic. The killer knows our selections and has known them for some time.”

“It has to be a club member,” Rena said.

I took a deep sigh. “Maybe, but I'm having a hard time getting a handle on my lead suspect. I'm sure of one thing, or as sure as I can be. The killer was a victim of Rory's blackmail.”

“Bill wasn't killed like in a club book,” Mark said.

“No. He was shot.” The memory of the figure in the morgue sent a chill through me. “He knew Rory and he might have been a blackmail victim, but he doesn't fit the pattern.”

The waiter came with our meals and refilled our water glasses. Food helped to dilute the impact of the wine and veer the subject back toward the mundane.

I waited until they both had food in their mouths because I didn't want to hear their first response. “On another matter altogether, I had this crazy idea. It didn't turn out to be anything, though.”

Mark looked at me. “What was it?”

“Remember the Riddick matter? It bugged you that she wrote a will when she was so young.”

He nodded.

“Well, it kind of got to me, too. I couldn't shrug off your questions. What if the will was a fake? Maybe the estate would have gone to his side of the family. Or maybe something wasn't up front with the valuation.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought. That's why Avery fired me. He thought I'd wasted too much time … thinking.”

On this point I agreed with Avery but didn't want to say so. “So I retrieved the old file from storage. It shows the date Triple D filed Imelda's will sixty-five years ago. As odd as it may seem, young Imelda Nelson did make out a will.”

Mark shrugged. “So much for that. I'm glad, though. Her family seemed like they could use the money. Riddick was middle class but a smart investor. The proceeds from the house alone should keep them financially secure for a good long time.”

“I didn't know the breakdown of the estate.”

“Yeah, the house was the main asset. He also had stocks and mutual funds, and I think some type of retirement bonds. I don't remember how much it all came to, but it was in the millions. Over the years, she spent a lot of it to live on and I guess some went to charities, but it was still sizable.”

I nodded. “I got the same feeling from the family members I spoke with. They'll be happy to get anything.”

Through the dessert course, we went back to chatting about world affairs and the state of the economy.

Waiting for the check, Mark opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it again. I looked at him, but it was Rena who spoke. “What? What do you want to say?”

Mark looked at me. “I didn't mention this to Avery, but I ordered another appraisal.”

“You did what?” I said in amazement.

He frowned. “I knew the court would need more than one appraisal to verify the value of the estate. So I went ahead and ordered one.”

“Mark, Avery said he'd take care of the appraisals. He'd already ordered two.” Estate appraisals were expensive. Although Triple D had appraisers on retainer to lower the cost, the reviews still ran in the thousands of dollars.

“I know. I know, but I figured appraisals can take a while and if the two appraisals differed greatly, then we'd need a third to validate the one that gave the best assessment. I figured Avery would be pleased when I showed up with a third appraisal. Think of the time he would save—and my initiative.”

I shook my head. “You did an awful lot of figuring.”

“Yeah, well, obviously taking initiative isn't big in Avery's book.”

I had to concur with him on that one. “So where is the appraisal?”

Mark rubbed his forehead. “It hasn't come in yet. I had it done by Bethel. They promised me it'd only take a week, but their server crashed and they fell behind with their formal reports. I hoped that—that maybe you could intercept it.”

Rena said, “Why bother? You don't work for Dodson Dodson and Doyle anymore. You're going to have a new job.”

I looked at her and then back at Mark with more understanding. “He needs a recommendation from Avery or someone from Triple D management.”

He nodded. “It should come to the office under my name, but you know those guys. Sometimes they send it to the name of the estate and it sits in the unknown mail bin.” Mark leaned in. “Just intercept it and toss it. It doesn't matter what it says. Avery is satisfied that the estate is valued appropriately. You saw the calculations from the two appraisers. It's overkill.”