The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) (19 page)

“Listen, Brian is already arrested. I missed the initial arraignment when he was charged; otherwise, I could have gotten an idea of what the DA had. So, it’s probably public information anyway. I just need to know what everybody else does.”

Stephanie was awake now. “I heard about what happened to Todd Wallace from the other forensic team. Did you learn something the police don’t know? Is there more going on?”

“Will you please help me?”

“Probably, but answer me this,” Stephanie said. “Why can’t you get this information from Brian’s defense attorney?”

“You’re my backup. He’s my next stop.”

Early in the morning Hollis found herself back downstairs in the kitchen. She made a cup of white tea and moved to sit outside on the balcony. The sun was just coming up. She sighed in contentment, taking a deep sip of the hot tea.

“Dollar for your thoughts?” John said, pulling out the chair next to hers, glass of orange juice in hand.

“They’re worth at least five dollars,” she said, smiling. “Say, I may be able to take off early today. I’ve got just a little paperwork to take care of and a quick meeting with another attorney. Why don’t we play hooky? Let’s make it a slow day. I’ll be home early.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” John squeezed her shoulder. “I deserve the time off since I haven’t been home for three consecutive days since I took this job. And there’s a little paperwork I need to take care of as well.”

“Let’s meet back here when you’re done,” Hollis said. “Maybe this time I’ll be back before you.”

Hollis dressed quickly. John had already left before she had gotten out of the shower. She still made it to the office early and glanced through the case George left on her desk. This one was more serious. She was glad the Shelby Patterson house was fast on its way to closing escrow and she could close the matter. Now if she could just lay Jeffrey’s murder to rest.

Hollis didn’t have any trouble confirming a second meeting with Brian’s attorney. Matthew Kerr seemed friendlier toward her than during their last brusque encounter. He offered to take her to lunch so they could talk. When Hollis declined, he didn’t seem bothered and offered to come to her office.

“I’ve never been in this building before,” he commented, looking out the window at the Bay. “You’ve got a better view than we do.”

Hollis nodded. “It’s one of the great perks of this job.”

She handed him a cup of coffee.

“Thank you for coming here,” she said. “I won’t take up much of your time. It’s just that this seemingly simple trust has some big question marks, and now with Todd Wallace’s death, well … I don’t want to rush things. I may need a continuance.”

Kerr nodded. “I can understand your caution. But Todd’s death does a lot to point the guilt away from Brian.”

Hollis frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Surely it must have occurred to you that whoever killed Todd, killed his father,” Kerr said. “Todd was an ex-con, and Jeffrey Wallace sent a lot of people back to prison. They never found the gun. His son’s killing was retribution and it was payback time.”

Hollis leaned back in her chair and thought a moment. “But Jeffrey was murdered first. Wouldn’t whoever was seeking retribution want him to be alive when they killed his son, so he could suffer?”

Kerr shrugged. “Or, it could be that the killer wanted Todd to suffer by seeing his father murdered first,” he said. “Either way, I’m meeting with the DA to see about letting Brian go free. It’s clear now that there are a lot stronger motives out there, and that their case against my client is weak.”

“Has Brian shared with you his reasoning for having me involved in the handling of the trust?”

“Yes,” Kerr said. “He told me about his concerns over Frances Wallace. We did some checking into her background and picked up on her gambling affiliations, but she’d already filed for divorce. Jeffrey Wallace was not contesting. There was no motive for her to murder her husband or her stepson. Then, of course, she withdrew the filing after the killing.”

“That’s all true,” Hollis said. “Matthew, can I see the material the DA has against Brian? I think it could help me with the trust.”

“How so? I don’t see the connection.”

It is a stretch
.

“If I don’t turn over every stone and find a reason not to process the trust, I’ll have no other alternative but to file it next week.”

He gave her a long, sideways look. “Your doggedness is admirable. Irritating, but admirable. I really don’t follow your line of thinking at all, but I’m confident that the DA will drop charges against Brian. So, if it helps you make our mutual client happy, I see no harm.”

Hollis gave him her most brilliant smile. “Thank you.”

“I take it you wanted it yesterday.” Kerr got up to leave. “Tell you what—let’s exchange information. I’ve looked at the trust. It’s pretty standard. But whatever you’ve turned up in your own explorations might prove helpful if Mosley doesn’t change direction from Brian. Send me your notes and I’ll send you my copy of the DA file.”

Hollis confirmed with Vince that he would deliver a copy of the Wallace trust and a summary of her notes to Matthew Kerr as part of his regular delivery run. He would then return with Kerr’s copy of the police file material on Brian.

“How’s the GED exam study going?” she asked.

Vince smiled. “Good, real good. I passed all the general study tests and I’m supposed to take the actual overall GED exam at the adult school next Saturday.”

He’d cut his hair and sported a new olive-green hoodie. Hollis also noticed he’d added a couple of much-needed pounds.

“Best of luck.” Again, she almost reached over to hug him but thought better of it when she saw him prepare to stiffen. Instead, she patted him on his arm and repeated, “Best of luck.”

A flush crept across his cheeks. He took the large envelope and left.

Her phone rang. It was Mosley.

“Ms. Morgan, you’ve been a tremendous help to us already, but we could use your help again.”

Hollis didn’t bother telling him to use her first name. “What is it, Detective?”

“We think we have the men who killed Todd Wallace. We’d like you to come down and view a lineup.”

Hollis had a flashback to several years before when she had her first experience with a lineup. Only then, she was the one holding the card for witness identification. She also wondered if Kerr’s plan to link the murders had gotten to Mosley. She certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

“Yes, that won’t be a problem. When did you want me to see me?”

“We will be ready for you at one o’clock … and thank you.”

Hollis was relieved she could still get home early.

It was clear that by the time Hollis arrived at the station that afternoon, Mosley had finally gotten the word about the Kerr/Wallace defense strategy.

He was not happy, and he seemed preoccupied.

“Please remain in the waiting room until we’re ready,” he said shortly, only briefly acknowledging that he’d inconvenienced her before going back behind the door to the office area and locking it behind him.

Hollis checked her phone for messages and decided not to return the one from John just yet.

But she was puzzled by the next two calls. They were both hang-ups. The last one, the caller stayed on the line for a long moment—she could sense, if not hear, someone on the other end. Then the hang-up.

But Shelby’s case was over.

“Ms. Morgan, please come this way.” A young female officer held open the door and gestured for Hollis to follow.

The line-up room wasn’t quite like the one she remembered from her own participation years ago. It was narrow and dark. The almost full wall window opened out onto a well-lit section with a glaring wall of white containing height lines and placement numbers. Mosley was standing in the corner talking on the phone and gestured for Hollis to take one of the three front-row seats. The officer sat down with a pad of paper and pen.

“Okay, let’s get started.” He spoke into a mic on a desk at the far end of the room.

Out came seven unsmiling men, wearing casual clothing. Hollis peered at each one. Mosley asked them to turn, come forward, and step back.

“Well?” he urged.

“Detective, I’ve been on the other side of that plastic wall. I think I should take my time.”

He grunted and sat back in his chair and waited.

“I recognize two men—number three and number seven.” She was comfortable with her certainty.

“That’s our guys. The sketches were right on,” Mosley said with the first smile of the day. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan.”

Hollis gathered her purse and briefcase. “Er … do they have a motive for killing Todd?” She tried to make her question sound as offhand as possible.

Mosley picked up his folders and papers without looking at her. “Yeah … yeah, we have a motive. Didn’t you hear? Todd Wallace rubbed a few people the wrong way in prison.” Then he mumbled some words under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Detective. What did you say?”

He looked at her and repeated, “Or so they want us to believe.”

“But you don’t believe it was a payback killing?”

Mosley slammed his binder shut. “No, I don’t believe it. Why didn’t they take care of him when he got out? Why wait until months later? And the link to his father’s death is—”

“Todd’s death can be linked to Jeffrey’s death?” She hoped she carried off the look of disbelief.

“It’s too neat,” he said. “I don’t like ‘neat,’ and in this case I don’t believe in ‘neat.’ But Brian Wallace has himself an expensive lawyer. Don’t listen to me, Ms. Morgan. Anyway, I’ve done my job. It looks like they’re going to drop the charges against Brian.”

Hollis thought it best to remain silent.

“Thank you for coming down and making a solid identification. I don’t think we’ll be bothering you anymore.”

He opened the door for her to pass into the hallway.

She gave him a small smile. “You know, Detective, I don’t like ‘neat’ either.”

Hollis was just about to leave for home when Rena called.

“I just got off the phone with Nate, He apologized for taking longer than he thought,” she said. “Frances Wallace, using her maiden name of Cole, sat down with key potential owners about three months ago. Nate said it was the week before Easter. Evidently she hasn’t come up with her share yet, but they are relying on her to step up soon. In fact, Nate said they’re putting major pressure on her to deliver the bucks.”

“Just over three months ago … that’s also when she filed for divorce. This isn’t making any sense.”

“It sounds like this is the reason she wants you to hurry up and file.”

“That I get, but where’s the money … where?”

T
he afternoon and evening of relaxed nothingness with an equally relaxed John was just what Hollis needed. They held to an unspoken agreement to avoid talking about the future of their relationship and simply enjoyed the day.

The next morning Hollis walked into her office and saw the thick manila envelope that Vince had retrieved from Matthew Kerr. She moved files aside, making room to pull out the contents. Most were the same pictures John had already gotten for her. A black and white photo of Jeffrey’s office showed his desk covered with a few files and his bookshelf holding more certificates and memorabilia than books.

She froze when she came to the photo of Jeffrey’s figure, face down on the floor and outlined in white chalk. Memories of their conversations—more like his lectures and her protestations—came flooding
back. Still, she knew he was proud of her and she had grown to care for him. She skipped over the close-up pictures of the wound.

There was a hefty police report that included more pictures, but Hollis was more interested in the narrative. It was evident why Brian had been arrested so quickly. Although it had not been found, the gun that killed Jeffrey was the same caliber as Brian’s gun on file. Based on the spray of gunshot residue, Jeffrey had allowed the killer to come close—almost face to face. And like Mosley said, they hadn’t found any GSR on Brian’s person, but they did find some on his shoes. The police report pointed out that he had plenty of time to shower and get rid of or clean off any residue.

Fortunately Brian had not agreed to answer questions without his lawyer. In Kerr’s notes he commented that Brian had misplaced his gun, and he had worn the shoes to the gun range the day before the police came to arrest him.

There were also interview notes from Kerr indicating that Brian’s employer stated that up to the time of Jeffrey’s death, Brian was a fine employee. His good character was confirmed in interviews with Frances and Brian’s neighbors and friends.

When Kerr questioned Brian about the argument he had with his father, Brian’s responses seemed plausible. He recounted their conversation matter-of-factly. He said his father agreed to help him get a house if he stayed on a budget. Jeffrey knew that Brian wanted to get married, and didn’t have a problem with the young lady. After Brian and his fiancé located a house, Brian went to his father to ask him to sell one of the first editions, and evidently Jeffrey had reneged.

Hollis frowned.

Jeffrey never reneged.

The notes went on to explain Brian’s alibi. He was working out of his house, preparing for a big sales presentation to a major customer. Hollis flipped through the medical and psych exam Brian’s attorney had ordered. She had to agree he had a strong case for Brian’s innocence. It was clear the police were fishing and just wanted to have someone on the hook. She could easily see why the arrest wouldn’t stick, especially now that they had two more likely suspects.

Hollis leaned back in her chair, rocking slightly, and looked out her window to the high rises that filled her view. Her thoughts went back to the report, reviewing the facts and the assumptions. She stopped rocking.

Jeffrey never reneged.

“Richard,” Hollis held the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she shuffled through papers, looking for the correct page in the police report. “Can you run a credit report on Brian Wallace?”

“Our client?”

“Yeah, and is there any way you can get a copy of his bank statements? He’s made or is trying to make an offer for a house. He banks at East Bay Valley.”

“I’m not sure about the bank statements unless he’s released them for his credit check.”

“Do what you can and get back to me as soon as you can.”

“Of course,
mon capitaine
.”

“Very funny.”

She was being watched, not stalked, but she felt someone was keeping tabs on her. A face she had seen in the lobby was now at a table across from her in a café.

FOF … Friends of Frances.

It was all part of some intimidation game, but clearly those involved didn’t know they were picking on the wrong person. She looked at her cellphone. She’d agreed to meet Brian at his home that afternoon, but she was following up with meeting Stephanie for lunch first.

“You’re treating, and I want everything on the left side of the page,” Stephanie said, folding the menu back in place.

Hollis nodded. “All right.”

Stephanie frowned. “Wait a minute; you’re not protesting. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You’ve been good enough to do me a big favor, and I’m just saying thank you.”

“Hmmm … well, maybe we should eat first before I tell you what I found out.” Stephanie went back to the menu.

Hollis held back her curiosity because she knew it would do little good to rush Stephanie. If anything, Stephanie would hold out longer, knowing how eager Hollis was to hear her information. They chatted about their jobs and Hollis and John’s relationship.

“That’s what I want to manifest—a committed relationship.” Stephanie wiped her mouth and pushed her empty plate to the side. “Aurelia says he’s coming toward me now.”

For a second time Hollis held her tongue and quick retort. “You deserve to have a good man.”

“Okay, that’s it.” She laughed. “I’ve made you suffer long enough. Now, Hollis, I can’t leave this information with you and no, before you ask, I can’t make any copies, but I can point out some things to you that I found … interesting.” She brought out a thin folder from her purse. “You know that Jeffrey Wallace was shot in the stomach at close range. But there is something I found curious—his office wasn’t tossed. Why not?”

Hollis shrugged. “I get it. Somebody’s going to toss an office because they’re looking for something or there’s been a fight, or as Mosley insists, out of a burst of anger.”

“Right.” Stephanie nodded. “Second, there’s a lot of pressure from on high for the Deputy DA to put this case to bed. Because the proverbial runs downhill, he in turn is putting the screws to Mosley. I’ve read Mosley’s notes; he’s convinced Brian did it.”

Hollis sat back in her seat. “Stephanie, I think Mosley is going to let Brian go. He’s got two suspects in the Todd Wallace murder that they’ve linked to Jeffrey’s killing. I wasn’t so confident that a link existed but .…” She shrugged.

Stephanie’s brow furrowed. “Then that’s curious too.”

“Why?”

“Because … two men ready to kill an ex-con and one very ordinary civil servant? There’s no money in it. Who’s got the money? There is something very
un
-ordinary going on.” Stephanie held up her hands. “Now don’t get upset. I know that Jeffrey Wallace was just shy of being a saint in your mind.”

“Stephanie, what are you talking about?”

“My third discovery,” she said. “Jeffrey Wallace was having an affair.”

Hollis walked back to work in a daze. Richard’s speculation had been right.

She patted her purse with the contact information Stephanie had handed her from the police file. It indicated that Patrice Leoni—divorcée from San Francisco, mother of one adult daughter, retired social worker, and avid golfer—had been having an affair with Jeffrey Wallace for the past two years.

Stephanie was wrong about one thing: Hollis didn’t think less of Jeffrey. In fact, after her meetings with Frances, she could well understand his attraction to someone who really cared about him. If Patrice was a good lady, Hollis was glad for him. She also understood that staying in his marriage—even reluctantly agreeing to make a trust to ensure Frances would be okay—was also Jeffrey’s way. He kept his commitments, no matter what.

Hollis took out the paper with Leoni’s number and closed the door to her office. Patrice Leoni’s phone rang several times before bouncing to voicemail. Hollis hesitated before leaving a message.

“Miss Leoni, my name is Hollis Morgan, I’m a friend of Jeffrey Wallace’s and I understand you—”

“Wait, wait,” Patrice said, turning off her answering machine. “Ms. Morgan, are you still there?”

“Ms. Leoni? Yes, I’m still on the phone. I’m sorry to bother you, but I understand you were a … a friend of Jeffrey’s and I was wondering if I could visit you. I have just a few questions.”

“First, call me Patrice,” she said. “And if you’re calling me, you already know about my relationship with Jeffrey.” Her voice sounded choked. “You could come over now if you’d like.”

“That would be wonderful,” Hollis said and then realized it probably wasn’t the right tone; she sounded too formal. “And please call me Hollis.”

Hollis made a rush call to Gene and told him about her upcoming meeting.

“We’re running out of time. Can you run a check on Patrice Leoni?” Hollis asked him. “Oh, and call the Angels together for Monday. See how many can attend, and I’ll make space in my schedule.”

Gene said, “I can’t believe it. Not so much the having someone on the side … I’m not a prude. But Jeffrey seemed so … so not interested.”

“Well, then we both were wrong.”