Olivia heard papers being rustled and voices in the background.
“Definitely a long shot, but let me ask around, okay? There’s a cadre of fellows who collect rare sovereigns. I’m leaving for Hong Kong Monday. I’ll poke around and email you if I hear anything. Mark your calendar for Sunday the 15th of February for the ballet. I’ll drive and take you someplace swanky for lunch. I need to run.”
“Thanks, Vonnie,” Olivia said.
She knew there was little chance of Vonnie finding out anything helpful, but there was always some hope, and to top it off, Olivia had got an invitation to the ballet. Win-win as far as she was concerned.
An email from Brian popped into Olivia’s inbox. Confirming receipt of email. Can we get together at your house before your meeting with Ebby? I have something I need to discuss with you.
Something about the tone of the email gave Olivia pause. The missive lacked the usual informal bonhomie that she and Brian shared. She wrote back quickly. Of course. See you at eight?
Seconds later Brian wrote back: Okay.
She shook her head and chastised herself for trying to interpret the tone of an electronic communication, but Brian had never been so abrupt with her. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Sometimes she missed the old days when people would actually talk to each other.
***
Wednesday, January 7
Olivia woke up to gentle rain on her roof that had turned into a full deluge by the time she showered and poured coffee. The damp gray weather suited her mood. At exactly eight o’clock, Brian pulled up in front of the house. Olivia watched from the kitchen window as Brian got out of the car and walked toward the front door, his mouth pursed into a tight thin line. He didn’t use an umbrella and the rain clung to his too-long hair, causing it to curl at the neck.
“Come in. Coffee?”
“No, thanks.” He followed her into the living room.
“Have a seat.” Olivia sat back down on the couch and curled her legs underneath her.
Brian remained standing. “What’s up with Leanne?”
Olivia felt her cheeks go hot. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Liv. I know you. You were polite at lunch – you’re always polite – but I could tell something was up. Why don’t you like her?” He stood with his back to her, staring out her window at the gray rain mingled with the green of King Mountain.
“Brian, I need to tell you—”
“I don’t regret that night, Olivia,” Brian said at the same time. When he turned to face her, Olivia saw his anguish and knew how difficult this conversation was for him. “I don’t regret those few weeks you let me stay here after my house burned down. You’re so easy to be with. I thought of a future with you, still do, if I’m honest. But you had just been betrayed in a horrible way by a man you trusted for three decades.”
Olivia felt the hot tears well in her eyes.
Brian ran his hands through his hair. “It would have been really easy for us to fall into a relationship, but when you stepped away, I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to say how I felt. I wanted to tell you – I’ve wanted to say that I wanted to pursue this feeling between us.” Brian shook his head. “I can’t do casual, Olivia. Not with you. And I thought we both needed time. I didn’t want to be – what do they call it? – the rebound person. And God knows I have my own issues with Maureen. I’m not ready to let myself go with someone.”
“Are you falling in love with Leanne?”
Brian’s face softened. “No. And she’s not falling in love with me. We’ve discussed it, and she knows my position. We’re friends. Our relationship is casual. If I’m honest with myself – and with you – I got involved with her because I thought she would be leaving after her contract at Marin General was up. Believe me, I was more than a little surprised to discover she’d extended it. She’s assured me she’s not looking for anything serious.”
Olivia rose from the couch and walked over to Brian. She stood next to him, looking out at the green hills, made more lush by the rain. “I realize what it took for you to come over here and talk to me.”
He gave her a sweet smile. “Tell me why you don’t like her.”
“Okay. Come and sit down,” Olivia said. Brian sat on the couch, while Olivia sat on the chair opposite him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“What do you know about Leanne’s background?”
Brian shrugged. “Let’s see. Other than what she told us at lunch, she grew up in the city and married her husband while working as a nurse at Kaiser in San Francisco. He was a private pilot who broke his leg in a car accident. They fell in love, got married, and moved to Minnesota. Minneapolis, I think. Then he died of a heart attack, so Leanne moved back to the Bay Area to be near her family. She works as a travel nurse. And that’s it. Why?”
“You’re not going to like this,” Olivia said.
Brian’s brow furrowed. “Go on.”
“I don’t trust her, Brian. Never have. And I’m aware that those feelings could be a result of jealousy. But that’s not it. There’s something about her that doesn’t quite seem right. Last Monday I caught Leanne snooping in your office. I swear she was going through your desk. She had one of your desk drawers open and was taking photos of paperwork with her cell phone. When she saw me, she closed the drawer and started looking through your calendar, said she was going to surprise you with a weekend away.” She waited, giving Brian time to digest what she had discovered. “There’s more. After lunch yesterday, I was behind you at the light when you turned to drop her off at the hospital. She said her car was in the shop, right?”
“Yes. The repair was delayed because they couldn’t find the part.”
“I was going to take a walk on the bike path by the hospital. You know I park in the lower lot, right? I saw Leanne get into a beat-up Honda Accord right after you dropped her off, and drive away. I would have followed her, but I was afraid she would have seen me.”
Brian didn’t say anything. He stared down at his feet, his body still. When he looked up at her, his eyes were incredulous.
Eager for him to believe her, Olivia continued. “I know, that’s not much. After that, I couldn’t let it go. I went to the California nursing board website. There is no one named Leanne Stoddard with a California nursing license.”
Brian let out a long sigh. Still Olivia waited, knowing she’d just done the emotional equivalent of dropping a bomb on his personal life.
“I can show you. You can look on your phone.”
“I believe you. Do you know how tempted I was to investigate Leanne’s background before we went on our first date? But I told myself that was ridiculous and that I needed to learn to be more trusting. It’s not like I’m going to marry her.”
“After what I’ve been through, I think if I were going to let someone into my house, I’d run a background check on them. Maybe it’s just a sign of the times or a result of Richard’s betrayal, but I don’t trust people anymore.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Implicitly,” Olivia said. “And I admit that what I just told you could easily be explained away. Maybe her nursing license is under her maiden name, maybe she had an emergency and had to leave the hospital.”
“I don’t think she had an emergency,” Brian said.
“Well, let’s give her the benefit of the doubt, okay? For now.”
Brian leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. Olivia noticed the underside of his strong jaw, the patch of gray stubble he’d missed when he shaved that morning. God help her, she wanted to kiss him.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
Brian stood. “I’m going to find out what she’s up to. If she has a criminal history, I’ll find it.” Brian looked at his watch. “We should get to the office. Ebby will be there soon.” They stood and walked to the front door together. The air felt lighter between them.
“Thanks for being so open-min
ded,” Olivia said. “I was afraid you’d not thank me for meddling.”
“Ah, Liv, the trust goes both ways. I’ll always consider your words.” When Brian put his arm around Olivia, she leaned into him.
“She had a key to the office,” Olivia realized out of the blue.
“What?”
“She said you gave it to her because your laptop was running slow and she was going to fix it for you.”
“But I don’t keep a laptop at the office,” Brian said.
“She must have brought one with her,” Olivia said. “Because she picked up the case and put it on her shoulder. I remember that.”
“Quite the clever little planner, isn’t she?” Brian’s words mirrored Olivia’s thoughts. “And as for the key, she didn’t get it from me, and I haven’t noticed mine missing. Unless she took it and had a key made without me knowing? I guess that’s a possibility, especially because I wasn’t the least bit suspicious of her. I keep my office keys in the console of my car. You gave me a key a few weeks ago, long before I needed it. I suppose she could have taken it and had a copy made. For all we know, that’s not the first time she’s gone snooping,” Brian said. “I’ll get the locks changed today. What do you think about a security camera?”
“Good idea,” Olivia said.
“I’ll do a little digging of my own. If she’s up to something, we’ll figure it out. And onto a different topic, I was going to follow Mark Engstrom this morning, unless you need me at the meeting with Ebby? I was thinking about the sovereigns and who in the Engstrom family would have the guts to steal them.”
“That would be Mark.”
“It’s probably a dead end. If he sold the coins, then in all likelihood they are long gone. But I’m interested in how he earns his money and how he spends his days. Have you seen his website? He acts like a bigshot.”
“Yet his house is falling down around him and he’s desperate to sell it. Good. You go ahead. I need to talk Ebby into seeing a psychiatrist. Probably best if I do that alone.” Olivia pointed at the box of documents Fiona had delivered yesterday. “You’ll want to go through those as well. Once we get discovery from the DA, we can regroup.”
“Are those the documents from Fiona? Great. And I have a call with my connection at the bank. I won’t be able to get detailed info about Mark’s banking history, but I’m hoping for some insight on his business practices.”
Olivia told him about her call to Vonnie Wilson.
“That’s a long shot,” Brian said.
“I do like a long shot.” Olivia smiled.
***
Ebby was waiting for Olivia at the office, looking well rested and considerably less stressed. He carried a tray that held two large paper cups.
“Good morning.” She unlocked the office. Once Ebby was in, she locked the door behind them. “Let’s go to my office. All the way back and to the right.”
“I’ve brought you coffee,” he said.
“You’re alone today?” Olivia asked as she booted up her computer.
“Elodie wanted to come, but I need to do this on my own. I feel like I need to distance myself from my family right now.” Ebby gave Olivia a sober look. “I need to know whether or not I did this, Olivia.”
“Have you remembered anything else?”
Ebby shook his head. “I honestly don’t think I killed my mother, but I’m fairly certain I saw who did. I just can’t remember. It’s so frustrating.”
“Let’s talk about your case.” She handed Ebby a fresh pad of legal paper and a pen. “Just in case you want to take notes. The first thing I’m focused on is a motion I filed to suppress your confession. I haven’t received a hearing date for that. If I can get the judge to toss your confession, the DA will have to dismiss the case.”
“That’s good right?”
“Yes, but I’m going to move forward as if we are going to trial,” Olivia said. “I always assume the worst, that way I can be pleasantly surprised. Did you know that Fiona hired a private investigator in 1999? At that time, she somehow managed to get a copy of original investigation files from the police.”
“Fiona? I had no idea. I’m assuming her investigator didn’t discover anything new.”
“That appears to be the case. Brian and I are going to start studying those files. We’ll report to you anything that’s helpful.”
“Okay. What should I do?”
Olivia set her coffee down and leaned back in her chair. “With regard to your murder case, nothing for now. However, there’s something I think you should do. You’re not going to like this.”
“You think I should see a psychiatrist,” Ebby said. “I’m going to. Felicity’s insisting. In fact, the only way she agreed to let me stay with her is if I went back to the doctor.”
“Why did you stop going?”
“Too many prescription meds and not enough discussion about why I need them. I always left my appointments feeling like I didn’t matter, like I hadn’t been listened to. None of the doctors listened to me. They were more interested in the clinical issues surrounding my amnesia. Some of them were flat-out rude.”
“Why don’t you let me put a list together of a few doctors that I think you’ll like working with? Then you can interview them,” Olivia said.
“Interview them?”
“Why not? You’re paying them. You’re the patient.”
Ebby smiled. “I never thought of it that way.”
Olivia wrote the names of five psychologists and three psychiatrists on a sheet of paper, tore it off and handed it to Ebby. “These are who I would see if I needed help. The last three are medical doctors, so they can help with medication. The first five are psychologists. You need fresh eyes and fresh ears, Ebs. Call them. Find one you like.”
“Okay,” Ebby said. “Should we meet again in a few days?”
“Let me go through Fiona’s files and get discovery from the DA. Once I have that, I’ll call.”
“You’ll find out the truth, won’t you? If I killed my mother, you’ll tell me? Promise.”
“I promise, Ebby.”
“If I did it, I’ll plead guilty.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Olivia said.
Chapter 17
Brian
Wednesday, January 7
Despite being glamorized on television, surveillance work in reality involved hours of sitting, doing nothing, and – at least to Brian’s way of thinking – drinking endless cups of coffee. He sat outside Mark Engstrom’s office in the high-rent district in Mill Valley, lucky enough to grab a parking place that allowed him to see Mark’s office and brand-new BMW. All that was left to do was watch. And wait.
With time on his hands, Brian thought about Olivia’s snooping into Leanne’s background. For the briefest moment he’d been irritated that she’d gone behind his back. He let his anger go when he realized that if the tables were turned, he would have done exactly the same thing. As he waited, Brian used his cell phone to search the California nursing board’s website. Olivia was right. There was no evidence that Leanne had a nursing license in California.
Pushing those thoughts away for now, he turned his focus to the case at hand and continued reading the newspaper articles he had copied from Fiona’s file. The story of Cynthia Engstrom’s murder read like a 1950s film noir. According to one reporter, the crime had been a brutal bloodbath that spoke of an eruption of stifled rage, while another, entitled BLOODY GOLD, speculated the crime had been all about the massive quantities of gold sovereigns that were stolen and never recovered.
Suspicious of any facts gleaned from this sensational nonsense, Brian stuffed the newspapers aside. As he turned his attention to the actual investigation reports, he realized information about the likely murder weapon – a jeweled dagger that had been used as a letter opener – had been kept from the press on purpose.
Brian’s stomach had started to rumble when Mark Engstrom strolled out of his office at 11:35 and drove to Il Fornaio, one of Br
ian’s favorite haunts. The restaurant was housed in a busy shopping center, so Brian was able to follow Mark into the restaurant and take his usual seat at the bar without being seen. The bartender knew Brian by sight and had a glass of his favorite Pinot Noir waiting for him when he sat down. Brian had no intention of drinking the wine, but he thanked the bartender anyway.
“The usual, Mr. Vickery?”
“Please,” Brian said. He ate his Caesar salad and capellini al pomodoro – angel hair pasta with an exquisite tomato sauce – all the while keeping his eyes on Mark Engstrom and the long-legged brunette who had been waiting for him at his table. Three waiters hovered around Mark’s table, giving him the full VIP treatment. One of them opened a bottle of Dom Perignon with a flourish. After pouring two glasses, he left so another waiter could swoop in with fresh bread and the exquisite olive oil the restaurant used in lieu of butter. After that waiter scurried away, a third stepped up to the table to take their lunch order.
Once he was gone, Mark lifted his glass to the brunette and uttered a toast. They clinked glasses. Mark drank greedily and finished his champagne in one swallow, while the woman across from him touched the glass to her lips, barely taking a sip. Soon the waiter brought out their antipasto. He refilled Mark’s glass. The brunette covered her glass with her hand and shook her head to signal no when the waiter offered her more champagne.
Mark tucked his tie over his shoulder and dug into the antipasto like a greedy child. The brunette barely touched the food and Brian couldn’t help but wonder if she was put off by her fellow diner’s atrocious table manners. Every few minutes some random person would stop at Mark’s table to chat for a few minutes. From Brian’s perspective, Mark sat at his table like a king presiding over his courtiers. By the time the waiter brought out their main courses – a giant plate of pasta for Mark and a salad for the brunette – Mark Engstrom was done with social niceties. He put both of his elbows on the table while he leaned toward the brunette, talking to her while he ate, his body language enough to discourage any passerby who wanted to stop and chat. The conversation between Mark and his lunch companion seemed to be one-sided. The only time the brunette opened her mouth to speak, Mark shushed her with a scathing look and kept talking, running his mouth even though it was full of food.
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