The Decorator Who Knew Too Much

by Diane Vallere

  The Tiki Tropics motel had an advertised continental breakfast for guests. I admit I checked it out, hoping for something better than the prepackaged cheese Danishes and Pop-Tarts on display in front of me. I’d taken Emma’s keys when I left the room and headed toward the motel lobby to find out my options for food.

  The desk manager was a man in his mid-sixties in a brightly printed Hawaiian shirt and light khaki shorts. His white hair was cropped close to his head in a manner that made me think Marines.

  “Good morning,” he said. “You were up and at ’em early, weren’t you?” When I nodded, he continued. “We don’t get a lot of early birds here when it’s not the tourist season. Kids, they like to get up early. Business folks have to, but the conventions usually start around ten. Party people sometimes come in the off season, but they need their mornings to sleep off the night before. You don’t seem to fit any of those categories.”

  “Option D: None of the above,” I offered. He laughed. “I’m here mostly for a getaway, but also a job.”

  He took in today’s ensemble: a pink pullover with a gingham self-belt and matching pink gingham pants (McCalls #5011). Yellow straw hat with a bow in the back. Yellow Keds.

  “You sure don’t look the corporate type.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’m a decorator. I specialize in mid-century—”

  “Ah, that makes a lot more sense,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of that around here. Some people call us the mid-century capital of the world. You live in Los Angeles?”

  “No, Dallas, Texas.”

  “Somebody hired you from Dallas? Seems like a long way to travel to put up some wallpaper in a hundred-degree heat.”

  “It’s a little more involved than wallpaper,” I said. “My colleague has some family out here, so we thought two birds, one stone.”

  He nodded toward the elevator. “Your friend with the little girl, is she your colleague?”

  Everything about the man said “chatty motel manager,” but something made me aware of the amount of information I was casually offering him. Instead of the full truth, I edited. “She’s a friend,” I said.

  “I’ve seen her here before with her husband. Nice couple. They stuck to themselves, never complained. Never knew she had a kid though.”

  I changed the subject. “I’m heading out to get us some breakfast. Can you point me in the direction of a bagel store?”

  He glanced at the coffee pots and basket of sugary pastries and then back at me. “Sure. Turn right outside of the parking lot and go about a quarter mile and then turn right again. A couple of miles down the road, you’ll get to a strip mall. Got all kinds of options.”

  “Thank you.”

  He reached for something on the desk and pulled out a parking permit. “Can’t help noticing you came in the metallic green convertible last night. Put this on your dash so the staff knows you’re staying here. Not saying we’re overbooked or anything, but makes things easier for everybody.”

  “Sure.” I took the parking pass and nudged Rocky to stand up and head toward the door.

  “Hey, that’s a cute little pooch you got there,” he said. “Is he the little fella who caused all the trouble at the pool this morning?”

  “What trouble?”

  “Tommy, my lifeguard, said a lady claimed somebody broke into the pool and untied her dog while she was swimming. That must have been you.”

  “It was, but I didn’t say someone broke in,” I said. I thought back over the conversation with Tommy. “Rocky’s leash got loose, and I asked Tommy if he’d seen anybody around, that’s all.”

  “He probably thought you were accusing him. A couple of months ago he forgot to lock the gate and some of his friends had a late-night party. They didn’t do any damage, but still, it’s a bad precedent to set. I was going to call his dad, but didn’t see the point.”

  “Why not?”

  “His dad is a cop. Officer Buchanan,” he said. “Hard to tell if he’d answer the call as dad or as the police.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  I hadn’t wanted to see Officer Buchanan as a potential suspect in my growing list of people to watch, but the connection here was too great to ignore. Tommy himself had told me his dad dropped him off. Had Buchanan asked his son to slip the note into my towel? Or even done it himself? I already knew Buchanan knew Dr. Hall. He’d been the one to refer me to him to seek help, and he’d mentioned his own sessions with the doctor. He seemed to have taken a special interest in the case. And of all the people who knew pieces of what I knew, Officer Buchanan was the only one who knew more. What had really been behind his sessions with Dr. Hall? Had he confided something he’d rather kept secret—something big enough to give him motive for murder? I already knew enough to know Dr. Hall wasn’t honest. I just didn’t know which of his activities—adultery, prescription-drug tampering, or possibly even blackmail—had been the one to get him killed.

  I thanked the office manager and unlocked Emma’s car. Rocky hopped into the driver’s side and walked across to the passenger seat. I slid in behind him, closed the doors, and immediately locked them. Emma’s mint-green convertible was about twice the size of my Alfa Romeo and it took me a few miles to get used to the large hood and extended width of the car. We were in the middle of the desert, a picturesque utopia of palm trees, greenery, and flat-roofed houses, yet the peaceful environment felt off, like I was looking at it through glasses with a shattered lens. I followed the directions to the strip mall and parked. My first phone call was to Hudson.

  “Hey, Lady,” he answered. His voice sounded low and gravelly, as if he’d just woken up.

  “Hey yourself. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I was in a fight that the other guy won.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened out there?”

  “It’s over. I don’t want you to worry.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “Omar claims they’re letting me go this afternoon. You think you have what it takes to look after me while I recover?”

  “Sure. I’ll be in charge of sponges and swabs.”

  “What?”

  “Doris Day joke. I might even make you watch the episode so you get it. Yes, I have what it takes. I’ll let Emma know.”

  “Has she heard anything about Jimmy?”

  “Not as far as I know.” I didn’t want to stress Hudson out by pressing him for answers, not yet. “Emma and Heather stayed with me at the Tiki motel last night.”

  “Why didn’t you stay at the house with them?”

  “Long story. We’ll talk about it when I see you.”

  “Hey, Madison?”

  “Yes?”

  “I know this trip was about seeing my sister and working for my brother-in-law, but the longer I lay in this hospital bed, the more the only thing I’m thinking about is spending the night alone with you.”

  “You and me both.”

  I hung up and sat in the parking lot. Rocky walked across the front seat and stuck his head out of my window. “What do you think, Rocky? Bagels or donuts?”

  The difficult decision was postponed when my phone rang. The number was a 214 area code, which meant it was in Dallas. Possibly a client.

  I answered, “Mad for Mod, Madison speaking.”

  “You answer the phone like that even when you’re on vacation?” Tex said.

  “Lieutenant, I mean, Captain Allen. This isn’t your number.”

  “Night, I’m flattered you know my number. You’re right. I’m calling from Dr. Randall’s office.”

  Immediately my hackles rose. “Any business I have with Dr. Randall is between him and me. That means it’s confidential. You have no right to nose around in my private matters.”

  “Whoa, Night, slow down. I’m not here because of you, I’m here because of me. But you do make me wonder if you talk about me during your sessions.”<
br />
  “There haven’t been any sessions,” I blurted.

  “Yet,” he said. A beat of silence passed where Tex probably gloated, and I questioned how he managed to get a rise out of me, even with a distance of thirteen hundred miles between us. “That’s not why I called. I talked to your boyfriend last night. He called me from the hospital.”

  “Why would he call you? You’re not friends.”

  “We have certain things in common. He told me your getaway to Palm Springs has been a little off and he asked me to check in on you.”

  “I don’t believe for a second Hudson asked you to check on me.”

  “Ask him.” The thought of asking Hudson was too embarrassing to entertain and Tex probably anticipated that. “So, you okay, Night? You were supposed to call me back.”

  “Yeah?” I said with more than a little annoyance in my voice. “Well, I’ve been busy.”

  “What’s going on there? Talk to me.”

  Why not? Tex was the one person I could confide in, if only because of the distance between where we were. So I did. “When we talked yesterday, I told you about the victim in the river and the relationship between him and Hudson’s sister.”

  “Yeah. You didn’t tell James about his sister’s affair yet, did you?”

  “It’s not my info to tell.”

  “He’s in the hospital. It might be related.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “What makes you think it’s not?”

  “Seriously, Lieutenant—Captain, how did you reach that conclusion?”

  “It’s called routine police work.”

  “No, it’s not. Not with three states between us, it’s not, not after you took a promotion that put you behind a desk.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I followed up with the precinct that called me about you. Wanted to make sure you were staying out of trouble. Go ahead, let me have it. Violation of your privacy, move on, whatever you need to say. I probably crossed the line, but considering there was a murder victim, I was worried.”

  “Who did you talk to?”

  “What?”

  “Who did you talk to in Palm Springs?”

  “Officer Buchanan,” he said.

  “Crap.”

  “Not the response I expected.”

  “Look. I have to talk to somebody and you’ve proven to be a good sounding board in the past. Are you willing to listen and help me out without judging me?”

  “Shoot. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Get a pen and a piece of paper. I’m going to give you the cast of characters.”

  Rustling of papers replaced conversation for a few seconds. “Okay, go.”

  I ran my hand over Rocky’s fur and stared out the front windshield. “I told you about the body, I told you about Emma and the doctor having an affair. Did I tell you Emma and Jimmy’s neighbor is the doctor’s ex-wife?”

  He whistled. “There’s a complication.”

  “Tell me about it. Her name is Jo Conway, and I’m not clear on how much, if anything, she knows about the affair between Emma and her ex. I’m also not clear if Emma cared if she did find out. From what Jo told me, the doctor had more than one affair.”

  “Sounds like a real catch.”

  “According to the ex-wife, she didn’t have a hard time deciding on a divorce. She said he was having an affair with his receptionist and more than one of his patients when they split up. Last night, Emma told me all about how she met Dr. Hall at the local flea market. I originally thought he was her doctor, but it turns out she was never his patient. When he told her he was a doctor, he said he could get her whatever prescriptions she needed.”

  “Ethical too.”

  “Hold that thought. Next, there’s the guys who beat up Jimmy and Hudson in Salton. The hospital staff referred to them as ‘Benji Nalder’s gang.’ Officer Buchanan says Benji has a record a mile long and doesn’t come to Palm Springs because he’s probably wanted for something.”

  “What did James say about the fight? Who started it?”

  I hesitated for a second. “He didn’t tell me anything about it. He said he didn’t want me to worry.”

  “How’s that working out?”

  “There’s something else you should know about Benji. I was working by myself by a local quarry Jimmy is using as a staging area for the items he’s acquired in Salton. It’s part of the job I’m here to do. Some guys came up to me while I was working. I know now the main guy was Benji.”

  “You didn’t mention this yesterday.”

  “I didn’t think it was related.”

  “What did this Benji want?”

  I flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t know. To intimidate me? Maybe he was just being friendly.” I didn’t believe my own words for a second.

  “You don’t think he was just being friendly, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Tell me what happened and give me all of the details. Let me decide what’s pertinent and what’s not.”

  “This group of guys walked up to me. The main one—Benji—kept calling me ‘pretty lady.’ He told the other guys to get lost for a few minutes, that there would be…”

  “There would be what, Night?”

  Even the thought of Benji’s words brought back the fear. “He said there would be ‘enough for everybody.’”

  “What did you do?”

  “I slammed my arm into the bottom of his chin and then kicked him in the crotch and ran.”

  “Where’d you learn self-defense?”

  “I didn’t. I was scared. For all I know, he’s going to file assault charges. Probably if I’d told him to back off, he would have and it would have been over.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone, where I pictured Tex running his hand through his hair, staring up at the ceiling formulating a plan. Only, this wasn’t Tex’s precinct. He wasn’t here. There wasn’t anything he could do. I thought there would be value in talking things through. And in one way, there was. I felt better having acknowledged what had happened. But in terms of what I knew, I was as lost as I’d been when I woke up.

  “Night, you did the right thing. Fear is an indicator something isn’t right and it sounds to me like the situation could have gone a totally different direction if you’d just stood there and let it. Maybe that’s what started the fight. Could be James was defending your honor.”

  I felt myself tense up as he talked, the rage building inside of me again. I didn’t want to let it take over who I was. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”

  Tex surprised me by not lecturing me on the importance of dealing with my demons. “Anything else you need to tell me about this case?”

  “Somebody sent Emma’s daughter to the park. They pretended to be Emma, but Emma was in the hospital with Jimmy. The park ranger called to find out if Emma was on her way.”

  “How old is the daughter?”

  “Nine.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know. Officer Buchanan was on his way to the house with Rocky, so he went with Emma to get Heather and talk to the park ranger.”

  “Okay, I got your cast of characters. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Wait. There’s somebody else.” I hesitated. “Officer Buchanan.”

  “I thought you just said he helped out with the little girl. What about him?”

  “I don’t know if I can trust him.”

  “Night, ninety-nine percent of cops aren’t crooked.”

  “I know. And this has nothing to do with what happened in Lakewood. But Buchanan is the officer who didn’t believe me when I said I found a body in the river. When I went to the police station to give them more information, he’s the one who recommended I talk to Dr. Hall myself. He’s a patrol officer, but he’s keeping himself involved in the
investigation. He’s been around a lot—both officially and unofficially.”

  “Slow down, Night! Damn, woman. This is more mixed up than one of your Doris Day/Rock Hudson movies.”

  “I can’t slow down. This morning, while I was swimming laps at the motel pool, somebody slipped a note between the folds of my towel. A warning. It could have been Emma, Jo, Jimmy—or Buchanan. His son is the lifeguard.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It said it was best I start forgetting everything I knew.”

  “Where’s this note now?”

  “In the bottom of my handbag.”

  “I don’t like coincidences.”

  “Neither do I.”

  After a short pause, Tex spoke. “I want you to go about your life the way you intended. Be a good girlfriend. Spend time with Hudson. Go shopping with his sister, take Rocky to the dog park, enjoy whatever you can about your vacation. In public. Around people. Don’t go wandering off by yourself anymore. I don’t care if you spot the holy grail of globe lamps tagged for five cents at a yard sale. If there’s not a crowd of at least five people, you leave it alone. Be a normal person—at least as normal as you can be in those clothes you wear.”

  I ignored his dig at my wardrobe. “You want me to just pretend nothing happened?”

  “I want you to let the police do their job.”

  “But the police—Buchanan—might be in on it.”

  “You leave Buchanan to me.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Tex

  The conversation ended the way every conversation between Tex and Madison did: him telling her what to do and her getting angry. When was she going to realize it wasn’t a feminist thing? He was a cop. She was a decorator. If one of them was equipped to handle a potentially crooked police officer, it was the one with the badge. The last time he checked, the only thing she pinned to the left breast side of her outfit was a vintage metal pin shaped like a daisy.

  Tex glanced down at the notepad on the desk. It was a habit of his to scribble notes, bullet points, leads, or questions related to whatever information came in. He hadn’t expected Madison to open up and tell him what was going on, but when she did, his habits had taken over. The notepad, like the office and the phone, belonged to the department shrink. Tex knew exactly what he’d been doing when he’d taken advantage of the unfamiliar phone number to check in on Madison. After Hudson James had called him from the hospital, he’d found himself in an awkward position. The two men were far from friends, but they’d been thrown together too many times to pretend neither one existed. Truth was, he thought the idea of tricking Madison with an unfamiliar phone number was funny, at least until he heard details of what was going down in California.