She walked around the living room, careful not to touch anything except for the small frog sculpture that lay in pieces on the floor. It had belonged to her grandmother. She placed the fragments carefully on the counter. The kitchen wasn’t spared; several drawers had been pulled out but not emptied. She sighed in dismay when she touched what was left of her battered laptop on the table.
She went upstairs to peer into the remaining rooms. They had left her roomful of boxes and junk alone. Only her bedroom had been tossed. All the contents of her dresser were dumped on the bed; ditto with the contents of her closet. She had just installed closet organizers to finally bring order to the chaos. Now the chaos was back, tenfold.
She returned downstairs to the kitchen, put her head in her hands and sat down to wait.
Less than an hour later an unmarked car pulled up behind a police vehicle. Hollis could only imagine what her new neighbors were saying. She went to open the door.
“Hello, Ms. Morgan.”
Hollis stepped back in surprise and then felt a smile creep over her face.
“Why, Detective Faber, since when does homicide show up for a San Lucian burglary?” Hollis moved aside so he and the female officer behind him could enter.
He motioned to the officer. “Officer Vega is here to get your information. I just heard your address come across the radio. I was in the area and I thought—”
“You thought you would drop by,” Hollis said. She glanced around the room. “Well, I can assure you I’m usually a much better housekeeper than this.”
He stepped into the room and gave her a sympathetic look.
Officer Vega had already slipped on blue disposable gloves and was walking around with a small notebook. She stopped in front of the large desk in the dining room that had been emptied.
“How long were you out of the house?” she asked.
Hollis sighed. “I just got home from work. I was gone most of the day. I actually came home early.”
Vega looked into the kitchen. “You’ll need to make a list of anything you find missing and get it to us as soon as you can.”
Faber walked through the condo, went upstairs and returned to the living room. “I’m not convinced this was a burglary. I think they were looking for something in particular.”
Vega’s eyebrow lifted.
Hollis was taken aback. “Why would you say that?”
He pointed to the floor. “Only papers, books, and folders are thrown around. All your electronics are still here. The stuff that’s easy for a real burglar to fence.” He walked into the kitchen and used a pencil to poke at her computer. “Why take the time to destroy your laptop?”
Vega stood in the hall doorway. “It would help if we could take it with us. Was there something important on it?”
Hollis shook her head. “Not really, mostly just class downloads and my study pages for the bar exam.”
Vega picked up the laptop and put it in a large folded plastic bag she pulled from her back pocket. “I’m going to head back to the precinct and write up a report. You can check online in forty-eight hours. You’ll need it for insurance purposes.” She handed Hollis her business card.
“Officer, I have a few more questions for Ms. Morgan,” Faber said. “I’ll meet you back at the station.”
Vega nodded and left.
Faber frowned. “Ms. Morgan, do you have any idea who might have done this?”
“Could you please call me Hollis?” She righted one of the dining room chairs and sat. “No, I don’t know anyone who would care enough about my law school notes and monthly bills to break into my home.”
“Is there a friend you can stay with or someone who can stay with you?”
Hollis shook her head. “No, there’s just me. I’ll be okay.” She sat on her shaking hand.
If Faber noticed, he didn’t say anything. He rubbed his hand over his head. “Okay, all right. Vega will take it from here.” He walked over to the front door. “Actually, there’s another reason I came in on this. I … I bought these tickets to see Yo-Yo Ma on Sunday. I know it’s short notice, but I just got them today and the only person I could think of to ask to go with me was you.”
Hollis looked up to the ceiling.
“Detec—”
“John, call me John.” He laughed.
His laugh caught her off guard. It was surprisingly contagious.
“John, I adore Yo-Yo Ma, and I would really like to go with you—”
“But.”
Hollis nodded. “But someone else already asked me.”
“Already asked you to hear Yo-Yo Ma?”
“I know. What a coincidence!” Hollis slapped her thigh. “I don’t have a date for six … never mind.” She blushed.
John laughed. “Look, maybe some other time then.”
“I would really, really like that. Please ask me again.” Hollis said in what she hoped was her most earnest voice.
He looked her in the eyes and said, “You can count on it.”
After the detective was gone, Hollis just sat, dejected, in the middle of the room. Taking a breath, she started to put the sofa pillows back in place. She didn’t usually cry, but she felt tears were just a few eye-blinks away. Pulling her thick hair back into a ponytail, she began to return books and CDs to their places on the shelves. Who would want to burgle her? She exhaled a long sigh and replaced the dining room chairs around the table.
It took the rest of the evening to return her condo to a semblance of order. She wiped her kitchen counters down with disinfectant and vacuumed the carpets twice.
A folded piece of paper under one of the corners of the living room throw rug caught her eye. It looked like binder paper—the type a child would use in school. It was folded several times until it was about one-inch square. She opened it carefully. She didn’t watch much TV, but enough to know there might be fingerprints.
She froze. It contained her name and address.
John was right, this wasn’t a random crime. She had something someone wanted, but what?
The next morning she parked her car in the rear lot of Open Wings. On one hand, she was reluctant to leave her home so soon after it was ravaged, but she knew she had to push past her fear and not let it hold her hostage. Cathy’s case was more important.
Determined to get some real answers, she took a deep breath and entered the double glass doors. By now Hollis was used to visiting shelters. Open Wings resembled a store front with large corner windows and a modest sized reception area. A large sign in the window boasted a notary and clinic services.
Hollis was greeted almost exactly the same as in the previous two places. This director, who introduced herself as Lilia Martini, led her to a small office with a window looking out onto the reception area.
Sitting at a black metal desk with matching chairs, Lilia said, “No, Miss Morgan, I haven’t received a call from Mr. Bartlett about you. But then I’ve been on vacation until yesterday.” Lilia blew into a tissue, leaving her nose strawberry red. “But there’s no problem. From time to time we get people wanting to see our facility for themselves.”
Hollis looked out the window. “Is this your entire facility?”
“Yes. All the lockers are along that back wall.”
“Lockers?” Hollis took note of the triple rows of beige lockers. It reminded her of the girls’ gym in high school.
“For the mail.”
Hollis flipped though her notepad. “Miss Martini, I’m sorry. I should have asked this when I first came in. What does Open Wings do?”
“We are a mail location for the homeless. They don’t have permanent homes like you and I do. They need a place to collect their social security or disability payments. We give them an address they can use free of charge. By the way, you can call me Lilia.”
Hollis smiled and nodded in understanding. She reached for the annual report and turned to the page she remembered reading.
“Lilia, how many employees do you have?”
“
Counting me, one.” She laughed.
It was starting to make sense, or at least a thread was beginning to form. She opened up the report for Lilia to see. “I’m a little confused. Did you prepare this annual report?”
“Me, oh no.”
“Isn’t this your signature under ‘Director’? It says you prepared the report.”
Lilia started to pale and licked her lips. “Yes and no. I signed it because this young lady from Mr. Fields’ office told me to. I’m not good at writing and arithmetic. Mr. Fields’ office sent me this lady—I think her name was Phyllis—to help me do our reports.”
“Do you know what it says?”
“Well, I guess I’m not good at reading, either. Mr. Bartlett said I could leave everything up to Phyllis.”
Lilia’s revelation told Hollis what she needed to know. Hollis wasn’t going to ask about the missing four employees.
She made a couple of notes. “How much money do you receive from Fields of Giving each year?”
“Well I don’t know, enough to pay me and pay the rent. Phyllis gets all the bills.” She hesitated. “Is there a problem?”
Problem? Hollis thought to herself, not a problem except that the million dollars showing as total operating costs might be a tad overstated.
“So how did you leave it with her?” Mark had started to wear glasses, which were currently perched on the top of his head. “You did tell her you were representing a defendant?”
They were sitting in Triple D’s meeting room with Cathy’s files.
“I told her before I left and she didn’t seem to mind,” Hollis said. “I got the feeling that as far as she was concerned, since she was telling the truth, she had nothing to hide. Although, I bet if Wade Bartlett had gotten to her it would be a completely different story.”
Mark slipped his glasses back on. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got. The first hearing date is in two weeks, which is just a formality to go on record with the continuance Fields gave us. I should finish deposing Fields’ staff next week. I’ll have to work analyzing the responses into my schedule. What have you got to report?”
“My, my, you seem to be taking on the role of authority. What else have I got to report?” Hollis mocked, and then her smile faded. “I’ve got a lot of bread crumbs but no loaf. I do have this kernel of an idea. Cathy wrote that Fields was using his non-profits to launder money, but I wonder if there was something more …. We’ve got grossly inflated annual reports and barely operational charity organizations.”
Mark ran his fingers through his hair. “I would give anything to know what Cathy found that would push her to risk everything on this story.”
“The board director you mentioned, the one who wanted to be the last resort, can you identify him?”
“So far I haven’t had any luck, but I’m not giving up. Cathy was pretty secretive.” He leaned back into the sofa and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “You know money laundering is not so farfetched. It explains Cathy’s focus. The problem is, we don’t have a lot of time to prove it. On the other hand, if we stumble onto pay dirt, we are going to have some powerful people trying to shut us up.”
“Yeah, uh, there’s one thing I have to tell you,” Hollis said sheepishly. “My condo was broken into and searched.”
“What? When?” He looked around the room as if the burglary was taking place right then.
Hollis explained about the break-in and the police response.
“The thing is, I didn’t have anything of real value in the condo. I had all Cathy’s papers with me.”
Mark shook his head. “This is getting out of hand. Cathy was murdered and whoever did it might not hesitate to kill again. Maybe we should let the police take over, or just let the whole thing drop.”
“No way,” she said. “Cathy died for her story. She touched a nerve, obviously a big one. We can’t let Fields scare us away.”
“He may not stop at trying to scare us. Hollis, you did tell the police about a possible connection between your burglary and Cathy, didn’t you?”
Hollis couldn’t look him in the eye. “Yes and no. No, I haven’t yet and yes, I’m going to.” She held up her hand to forestall his objections. “Honestly, Mark, I just thought of it myself. Besides, John Faber showed up. He’s aware of both cases. I’m sure he’s zeroed in on the possible connection.”
“This whole matter is taking on a new angle,” he said. “Let me know what the police say.”
“Wait, I just thought of something.” She stood and started to pace back and forth. “Fields is not going to really come after us, I mean directly, because he’d be an obvious suspect. He won’t want anyone else peering into his affairs. If anything, we’re going to be protected.”
Mark gave a small laugh. “Who said every cloud doesn’t have a silver lining?”
Hollis pulled out her cellphone to check for messages. She was pleased to see Gail Baylor had not called to cancel. Their meeting was still a go. She found the phone number for a Gail Baylor written in the corner of one of Cathy’s pages of notes. It didn’t take her long to track her down. It had been Triple D’s receptionist, Tiffany, who gave her the idea that Cathy had to have someone at Transformation who helped her with the administrative side of her research. She had to have an assistant if only to handle logistics. Finally, after some minor poking around, she discovered that Baylor had been Cathy’s assistant. Hollis frowned; it bothered her that Devi neglected to offer that piece of information, but it probably didn’t occur to him to consider the clerical support.
On the phone Gail Baylor seemed nervous but affable and more than willing to talk about her last assignment. They agreed to meet in the lobby of the Oakland Library that afternoon; it was public and private at the same time.
Two minutes after their agreed time, Hollis looked around the lobby and spotted an older woman who was clearly waiting for someone. She was stocky, with graying blond hair styled in a chin length pageboy and black rimmed glasses perched on an overlarge nose. Her gray eyes finally landed on Hollis and she walked tentatively toward her. Hollis met her halfway.
“Gail Baylor? Hollis Morgan.” She said, holding out her hand.
The woman shook her hand and flashed a smile that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. She nodded. Hollis pointed to two overstuffed upholstered chairs in an alcove away from the door.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I’m always losing track of time. Sometimes it gets me in a world of trouble. I hope I’m not making you late for your next meeting.”
“No, no, not at all, please … Gail, you don’t have to apologize. I just appreciate your meeting with me.” Hollis smiled. “Had you known Cathy long?”
She sat primly with her hands in her lap. “From her very first day at Transformation, Mr. Devi assigned me to her. I get all the new ones.” Gail leaned forward. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. You’re going to think I’m being negative about the magazine. My supervisor wrote me up about that on my last evaluation. I should keep my mouth shut.”
Hollis touched her lightly on the hand. “No, no, I don’t think anything of the sort. I need your help. Please, tell me about your work with Cathy.”
“Cathy was easy to work with. She treated me like an equal.” Gail tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “She would let me edit her pages and even do some background research. Don’t think I’m talking bad about the others, I’m not. Cathy just had a lot of work, and she felt I could help her.”
“Did she explain what she was looking for? When was the last time she discussed her work with you?”
Gail’s eyes grew large. “I didn’t mean to mislead you. I assure you that the work was all hers. I was responsible for transcription. That’s all. Talking too much is what gets me in trouble.”
Her hands started to shake.
“Gail, it’s okay. I’ve worked with Cathy, too. She loved to share ideas about a case.” Hollis kept her voice low and calming. “She would talk out loud about what approach
she planned on taking.”
Baylor heaved an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, I see. Yes, yes, she would talk with me. That’s how she made me feel special. We were a team. Management thought I could only do clerical work, but Cathy let me do research. I can be really obsessive; you know, making copies of copies. I would offer suggestions. But I don’t want you to think she didn’t write ev—”
“Gail, trust me, I understand.” Hollis couldn’t stop herself from interrupting. “What kind of research?”
Gail’s head bobbed in a fast nod. “Okay, yes, of course. I’m sorry I get so distracted and I then I lose my train of thought. Once ….” she stopped when she saw Hollis’ expression. “Sorry. I collected all the annual reports and then she had me pull what tax records I could locate. There weren’t many, but she seemed pleased.”
“How did she verify her facts? Where did she keep her fact finding?”
“I scanned everything and put it on a computer memory stick.”
“Where is it now? There was nothing with her things.” Hollis felt guilty hearing the impatience in her own voice and the increasing contriteness in Gail’s.
“I guess the police have it. It had to have been with Cathy’s things.” Gail bit her bottom lip. “I want to say that Cathy was one of the most ethical people I knew. If she thought that Fields was crooked then she knew what she was talking about.”
Hollis struggled to phrase her next question. “I can see why Cathy wanted to work with you.” Hollis spoke slowly. “Do you know if Cathy got any threats, anyone who hassled her?”
This time Gail didn’t have a quick response. She looked pensive and turned to gaze out the library’s glass doors.
“We were finalizing the Fields story. Cathy was happy it was completed and into legal for review. She was out of the office and I was clearing her desk when a call was put through.” She squinted with remembrance. “I wasn’t being nosy. It was just an accident I was even th—sorry—it was a man who wouldn’t leave his name but did want me to take a message for her.”
Hollis tilted her head. “What did he say?”
Sticks & Stones (A Hollis Morgan Mystery) Page 10