The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) (12 page)

“Well, we’re running out of time,” Gene added.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to go to the police with our random puzzle pieces. They may have some of their own.” She started putting on her coat. “I’ll visit with Detective Mosley and see how the investigation is going. Since you guys seem to be busy, we can wait until next week to get together. If I discover anything new, or if any of us thinks of anything new, we’ll arrange to meet earlier.”

Gene gave his briefcase a pat. “Sounds like a plan,” he said.

H
ollis got back to her office with an hour to spare before her meeting with Brian. She logged on to her computer, called up PeopleSearch, and entered a public records request on his background.

While she waited, she called Mosley and got him on his cell.

“Detective, would it be possible to meet with you tomorrow about the Jeffrey Wallace case?”

“What about it?”

“I’d rather talk to you in person,” she said. “There’s a good chance you haven’t arrested the real killer.”

“And you think you know who the real killer is? Do you have any solid information or is this just speculation?”

Hollis hesitated. It wouldn’t do for him to classify her as a pest.

“I’d like to share with you what we’ve stumbled across,” she said. “You can decide if it’s solid information, but it may throw some new light on your investigation.”

“Okay, make it in the afternoon. I’m out all morning.”

Brian looked pale and agitated. Dressed in sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt, he hadn’t shaved and his hair appeared to be finger-combed.

They were standing in his living room, now cluttered with the addition of his father’s office furniture and stacks of boxes. Jeffrey’s wall poster leaned against the wall. A few open boxes were sitting on a side table, and Hollis could see papers, folders, and probably more personal effects from his office. The fireplace mantle was covered with pictures and trophies and what looked like an empty beer can.

Brian proceeded to pace back and forth.

She made room on the sofa to sit, after moving a soiled paper plate and napkin onto the coffee table.

“Coffee?” Brian offered.

“No, thanks. I drink tea,” Hollis said.

“I don’t have any tea. What about water?”

“No, thanks. Really, I’m fine. Brian, you said we could talk about your argument with your dad. What was it about?”

He ignored her question.

“I’ve got to get to the office. Since the arrest I’ve been going in after hours. I don’t want to talk to anybody about my situation. I’m really behind on my paperwork. My boss keeps leaving me these notes.” He picked up a sheet of paper and read, “ ‘I know this is a difficult time but we need your report.’ ’’ He ran a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t know the half of it.”

Hollis nodded. “Then you should probably start talking to me, so you can get back to work.”

Brian looked at her and nodded. He finally cleared catalogs from an overstuffed chair and sat down. “Ever since I was a kid, Dad was a stickler for rules. He had a rule for everything. He made them up as needed.” He rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “You knew him; he could be a real hard nose.”

Hollis nodded again, trying not to show her impatience.

“So, anyway, I needed money to get married. I had asked him for a loan.” Brian got up and started pacing again. “He said if I needed a loan to get married, it probably meant I should wait.”

I agree.

Brian looked up at her as if he could hear her thoughts.

“He reminded me I hadn’t paid him back for the money he gave me for my car. I told him that I was waiting on a bonus check to come through. Gloria—that’s my girlfriend—and her family had already started making reservations and stuff.”

Hollis said quietly, “So the argument was about money?”

Brian looked sheepish and couldn’t look her in the eye.

She squinted. “No, wait a minute, your argument with your dad wasn’t about him writing you a check.” Hollis sat up. “The argument was about the trust. You wanted one of the assets out of the trust.”

Brian shrugged and nodded. “He had five Sebastian Torneo first editions. I never heard of the guy, but they had been given to Dad by some rich family grateful for his getting their son through his parole. They knew about Dad’s love of books.”

Hollis had never seen a first edition Torneo. Clearly Brian didn’t share his father’s ‘love of books.’ Torneo was one of her favorite adventure authors and she would love to take a peek, but she didn’t think this was the time to ask.

Brian continued, “Anyway, Dad had set them aside for my older brother.”

“Your older brother?” Hollis said.

“I know, I know. I told Gene yesterday that my brother went away, and for our family he did. I don’t know why I hedged about him. I guess because Dad died a little inside when Todd went to prison. We all just put him out of our lives—at least I did. I hate to say this, but he was an embarrassment.”

Hollis grimaced. Her family had treated her the same way when she had done her time in prison. The momentary reminder brought an old spark of pain.

She held up her hand. “Wait a minute. Stop right there and don’t go any further. Tell me about this brother.”

Brian leaned back in his seat. “Todd is serving five to ten in a facility near Corona for armed robbery. He’s already served five years. He’s about to get out on parole.”

“Have you ever gone to visit him?”

“No, he refused to see any of us.”

Hollis squinted at Brian. She had to gather her thoughts and sort through the questions zipping through her head.

Brian was lying, but what was the lie?

“What happened?”

For a third time, Brian stood and began to pace. “Todd was smart in school, but he liked to play more than he liked to study. Even so, he and Dad were close. Dad always gave him a break even when he didn’t deserve it. Then, several years ago, he and some friends stole some computers from a school and were going to sell them to a fence. Only they didn’t get that far. One of his friends had a Taser gun.” He swallowed. “They were caught, after a policeman was wounded.”

Brian stopped pacing and stood contemplating the view out the window.

Hollis finally asked, “Did you get word to him about your dad?”

Brian nodded. “He knew.”

“They wouldn’t let him come to the funeral?”

“Ah, sure, but he didn’t want to come. He sent word that he didn’t want to see Dad that way.”

Hollis understood the rationale, but she wasn’t sure that if the circumstances were flipped, she could have stayed away.

“Brian, the language in the trust is pretty standard. Jeffrey left everything to his heirs. But you’re his executor. Did he want Todd to get the first editions? Is that why he left them out of the trust?”

He hesitated before answering. “Yeah, he said Todd would need money when he got out. He wanted to be able to give him a nest egg to get back on his feet. But Dad expected to be alive when Todd got out.”

“Oh, now I get it. The reason why you went to see your Dad that night.” Hollis closed her eyes, letting the pieces fall into place. “You needed money
now
. Jeffrey knew his other son would one day come home. He was always preparing for that future.”

Brian stood over her, his arms crossed at his chest. “But I was the son who was here. I was the one who needed help now.” He threw up his hands. “So we argued and I left him … alive.”

“Did he say anything before you left?”

His eyes glistened. “He said he knew how the father of the prodigal son felt.”

Hollis nodded. “Do you own a gun?”

Brian choked back an answer. “Yes, but it wasn’t where I thought I left it. I think Dad took it because he was always after me to put it away after I came home from the shooting range. I might have left it out and he found it and hid it.” Brian shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. “He’d do that to make me ask him for it.” His eyes flitted back and forth.

He was
definitely
lying.

Hollis frowned. “I thought you lived here.”

“I do. I just moved in the week before Dad … before Dad was killed.”

“Let me guess: Jeffrey was killed with your gun?”

Brian nodded.

“Does Frances know about your brother?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Does she know about the first editions?”

“Yeah, she wanted them for herself. But Dad was adamant; she couldn’t move him either.” He turned away from her and scratched his neck with his index finger.

He can’t stop lying.

Hollis looked at her watch. “It’s getting late and we’ve both have a busy day.”

She stood and Brian walked her to the door.

He stopped on the doorstep. “You need to step up the processing of the trust; we don’t have much time.”

Hollis looked out onto the street. The lights were coming on. “We’ll do what we can. But if I were you, I’d start worrying about being the only murder suspect.”

A
fter she got home, Hollis picked up a message from John, who said he missed her and would call back the next day. She liked knowing he was somewhere out there missing her, but having him on the other side of the country still felt isolating.

After bolting down a dinner salad, she remotely checked her office answering machine. Shelby confirmed she would meet her at the house in the morning and apologized again for going missing.

Hollis picked up a book and headed for bed. After an hour she put it down. She couldn’t concentrate. There were too many loose ends with Jeffrey’s trust. On its surface it was no big deal. The man was not rich, first editions or no first editions. Yet everyone seemed to have a secret. Now Jeffrey had his own—another son, a felon. She would run him through PeopleSearch tomorrow. And what was with Brian’s lies? It was clear to Hollis’ internal lie detector that their whole meeting was riddled with his half-truths. Brian’s lackadaisical attitude about being arrested for murder was inexplicable. And Frances, who clearly was inching to get back to the gambling tables, definitely had something hidden going on.

She sighed deeply. It didn’t seem as if anyone missed Jeffrey. His parolees cared more about his death than his own family.

And then there was her client, Shelby Patterson.

Another “it’s all about me” family drama. She would be glad to get the house on the market and sold. Shelby’s tuition was due soon and if they had a bit of luck, Shelby would be on her way to UCLA in plenty of time—family drama permitting.

Resigned that she wasn’t going to be able to solve it all this night, she turned over and went to sleep.

It was a beautiful spring morning and the drive to San Lucian hills was pleasant. Hollis had only seen photos of the Patterson house, but she recognized it immediately when she turned onto the street. The grass was overgrown, and the shrubs were untrimmed. A green hose angled snake-like along the entry path to the front door. Shelby, who appeared to be driving a rental, was already parked directly in front of the house. She got out of the car as soon as Hollis pulled up.

“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” she said. “You don’t suppose we need to be worried about getting shot at, do you?”

“No, I don’t think so. Besides we can’t let them scare you away.” Hollis moved up the steps. “The work you see is only cosmetic. Kevin Gregg will hire a gardener to bring the yard up to speed before he markets the house. You ready to go inside?”

Hollis used her key. The door creaked loudly and opened onto a darkened room. Even though the drapes were pulled back, very little light penetrated the dark, wood-paneled room. She could see out the large rear bay windows that the shaded backyard had a large weeping willow in the middle, with a column of smaller shade and fruit trees along the fence line. As with the front yard, everything was overgrown.

Hollis tried the light in the dining room. It came on. Someone was still paying the electric bill—or at least it hadn’t gone unpaid long enough for the power to be shut off.

Shelby entered tentatively, as if afraid of being noticed. She went to the mantle and ran her hand over a picture of an older, stern looking woman and a sterner looking man standing on the steps of the house.

“This is my dad’s mother and her second husband.” She put it back. “I loved her,” she said quietly.

Hollis waited for Shelby to join her, and they walked quickly through the living and dining rooms. The rooms were still full of furniture but it was clear that the recent residents were not as neat as the original owner. A few fast food wrappers dotted the dining table and a dollop of ketchup had squeezed out and dried. The kitchen was dated, but relatively clean. A week-old
San Francisco Chronicle
was folded neatly on a chair.

Shelby followed Hollis like a shy child as they went upstairs.

There was a long hallway lined on either side with closed doors. Hollis stood aside and nodded for Shelby to take the lead.

“This was the guest room.” Shelby opened a door and went in.

The room was dark, with pulled curtains. Clothes were scattered on a chair and the floor next to it. It appeared to be a man’s room.

They turned to leave, shutting the door behind them. The next room was adjacent, and as before, Shelby went in first.

“This was Gram’s sewing room.”

The small room had natural light that gave it a cheery atmosphere. It was orderly. A mattress was on the floor and the bed was made up. On a closed sewing machine cabinet were makeup bottles. A table full of catalogs and patterns stood in a corner.

Shelby led the way out. They passed a yellow and white tiled bathroom with two sinks, a tub, and a separate shower. Towels were folded neatly on the dual racks.

The last room faced the hallway entrance. The entryway had double doors, and Hollis nodded at Shelby to open them.

The girl took a step backwards. “I can’t. This was Gram’s bedroom.” She stood to the side and pointed. “Me and my cousins used to come in here and jump on her bed. Then, when my mother died and I was sent to LA, I only came back a few times … but the room didn’t change.” A faint smile lifted the corners of her lips.

Hollis gently touched her shoulder, opened the door and went in. Shelby followed slowly behind her.

They stood in a small vestibule that opened onto a sitting area with two overstuffed chairs and a small coffee table. Opposite the sitting area was a queen-sized bed tucked into an alcove beneath a large draped window. A faux marble fireplace was centered on one wall, and across from it appeared to be the door to the master bath. A widescreen TV sat on a dresser in the middle of the room, facing the bed.

Shelby walked around the room. Shoes under the bed and casual shirts tossed on the chairs pointed to a masculine presence. Shelby opened the closet door and gasped.

“It’s Gram’s clothes. He just threw them on the floor so he could hang up his own.”

Hollis put her hand on Shelby’s shoulder and peered at the stack of clothing in the corner of the roomy closet. It was almost as high as the clothing pole. In contrast, a man’s clothing was hung neatly at the other end.

“Shelby, I know this must be hard for you. Do you want to wait in the car? I can go through the rest and check things out. I’ve had to go into many houses and evaluate the assets, and sometimes seeing the personal belongings of the owners can be upsetting.”

Shelby mustered up a smile. “No, I’m okay. I had some good memories here, too.”

Hollis led Shelby back into the main room. “Despite the upset, the house appears to be in good shape. It shouldn’t take long to ready it for the market.”

Shelby was silent as they began to make their way back down the stairs.

A door slammed.

Hollis wanted to kick herself. They hadn’t locked the front door. They both rushed out into the hallway.

“What the hell are you doing in this house?” A scowling Darol Patterson, wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt, waited at the bottom of the stairs, blocking their way.

Hollis could sense Shelby’s growing panic as she stepped in front of her and faced Shelby’s father. “Mr. Patterson, I needed to see the house to evaluate its condition before we put it on the market.”

He ignored Hollis. “Shelby, I asked
you
what you’re doing in this house.”

Shelby stood behind Hollis on the stairs, looking down at her feet. Her shoulders were shaking. Hollis picked up the girl’s hand and urged her to follow her down the steps. They tried to move past Darol, but he refused to budge.

“Mr. Patterson, please let us pass. I’d hate to call the police.” Hollis stood as tall as her small frame would let her.

He ignored her.

“Shelby, what are you doing? We came to get our things. Are you going to kick out your family and send us to the street?”

Shelby stood silently, and a tear dropped on the hand Hollis held.

Hollis took a step closer. “Mr. Patterson, you should have gotten your things out of here. You—”

“Lady, could you please let me talk to my daughter? This is your job, but it’s my life!” he shouted. “Shelby, talk to me. Even during my … my bad times, did I ever hurt you? Can’t I just talk to you for a minute?”

Shelby said nothing, but Hollis caught the slight shake of her head.

Hollis let go of Shelby’s hand and dug into her purse for her cellphone. She held it up. “Mr. Patterson, I have a 911 speed dial. If you do not move from blocking our movement, I will have you charged, along with other felonies, with kidnapping and trespassing.”

Darol Patterson glared at Hollis and took a step forward, causing Hollis and Shelby to step back. He gave them a tight smile and then moved to the side in an obvious attempt to intimidate.

Hollis glared at him and led Shelby by the elbow down the rest of the stairs.

They had made it to the bottom step when the front door opened and slammed shut again. Hollis could feel Shelby stiffen under her grasp.

Joy and Sonny came into the room and stood on either side of the entry.

Hollis stiffened. She glanced at Shelby, who had finally raised her head. Her eyes were wide with terror.

“What the hell is going on?” Sonny asked. “What are they doing now, Dad? You said we could get the house back.”

Now Darol was silent and Joy spoke up.

“But we’re not, are we, Dad?” Joy said, not taking her eyes off the intruders. “Shelby, you’re so spoiled. You don’t fool nobody with that Miss Sorry act you have.”

Darol Patterson passed behind Hollis and Shelby and joined his children. They stood together, forming a wall. Hollis considered her exit options. Her first goal was to get out of the house with Shelby in tow. She could call the police, but they would not welcome a domestic call that had yet to involve any real violence. She didn’t think just having a bad feeling would endear them either. She decided to go for option two.

She said, “Look, I know this situation is unfortunate. But this is Shelby’s house, not yours. Your mother,” she said, pointing to Darol and then to Sonny and Joy, “and your grandmother gave it to her, not to you. It will be sold, so take this opportunity to collect your things. I’ll have someone come back to change the lock again. But you cannot stay here. You are trespassing.”

She slowly edged her way down to the last stair with Shelby at her heels and stood at the corner to the entry hallway.

“Trespassing!” Sonny shouted. “Are you kidding me?”

Darol had not taken his eyes off his stepdaughter. “Shelby, Shelby, I am so disappointed in you. Things didn’t have to end this way. Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to take care of you. I wonder what your mother would think of you now.”

Shelby drew an audible intake of breath.

Hollis was beginning to feel very uncomfortable as she moved determinedly past Darol. He didn’t budge an inch, but he didn’t try to stop her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she and Shelby emerged onto the front porch. They weren’t followed as they headed to their cars.

Shelby walked quickly and stood next to Hollis. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and squinted into the morning sun. “Get them out of my house.”

In amazement, Hollis turned to face her.

“Shelby, why didn’t you say anything to your stepdad? He needs to hear how you really feel about selling the house,” she said. “I’ll set things up with a real estate agent, but he won’t have the conversation you need to have with your stepfather either. If your father or siblings give him a hard time, you’re going to need to see the sheriff.”

“But that’s why I can’t face them. They scare me until I can’t speak.” Shelby slid into her driver’s seat.

Hollis recognized the conflict in the child-woman in front of her. At times she acted like an adult, and other times like a scared kid.

“Okay, I understand, but this time you’ve got to stand up for yourself.” As Hollis moved toward her own car, she said, “I think if you sat down and talked with them, it might save you a lot of time and your family a lot of money.”

“If I sit down with them, will you sit with me?”

“No … well, maybe. But
you
need to talk with your family. This isn’t a legal matter and lawyers can be very expensive when used for family counseling. I don’t think your step-grandmother would want her hard-earned money going to strangers.” She got in behind the steering wheel. “Call your Aunt Denise, or have her call me.”

Shelby frowned. “Hollis, please don’t give up on me. I know you think I’m leaving you holding the bag, but I don’t mean to. I … I just ….” She started to tear up.

Hollis closed her eyes. “I will do everything I can to get your house sold as quickly as possible, but I’m probably not the person you’d want to negotiate a diplomatic solution. As for bringing people together, I’m not very good at it.”

Shelby sighed. “All right, I’ll call Aunt Denise.” She went to her car and pulled out onto the street.

Hollis glanced back at the house. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she caught Darol and his offspring looking out from the bay window with triumphant sneers on their faces.

Returning to the office from the Patterson house, Hollis was mentally exhausted.