A Well-Kept Family Secret

by Marja McGraw

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, turning and walking in the direction of the woman.

  “Mom, are you okay?” I asked, returning to my car.

  “If I can stop shaking, I’ll be fine.” I noticed she was beginning to fan herself, but she didn’t sound like the mood was gripping her again.

  I pulled her to me and hugged her. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Me either, actually. I guess there are some advantages to the curse. Although, I have to admit I did embarrass myself. I said a few cuss words during the incident.”

  I looked at her, and she looked at me, and we began to laugh. The laughter turned into a roar and I found there were tears running down my face. Then I thought about the way she emphasized the words the curse every time she said it and laughed even harder.

  “Are you really okay?” I asked, wiping the tears off my face.

  “Yes, I haven’t felt this jazzed in as long as I can remember. Wait until I tell Frank about this. No, maybe I’d better not do that. He worries too much.”

  The officer returned to take my mother’s statement, and we began laughing again. I’m sure he thought we were both nuts, but I saw the corners of his lips quiver as mother told her story.

  “Mrs. Wager, the woman who called us, said she’s more than willing to testify against this guy,” the officer said. “She said she saw the whole thing. We’ll be in touch with you.”

  Rick stopped to talk to the officer. They were both shaking their heads, which set my mom and me off again.

  “Is it really that funny?” Rick asked, stepping in front of me.

  “Yes.” I pulled him aside and tried to explain about my mother. Somehow I felt the need to explain the circumstances to Rick.

  “Okay, but your mother is lucky. This isn’t the way these things normally turn out. I have to admit, though, it’s going to make a good story when I get back to work. The change of life, huh? I’ll have to remember that next time I run into a senior.”

  “Senior,” Mother said angrily as she joined us, all humor gone. “I’ll have you know – ”

  “I’m sincerely sorry,” Rick said hastily. “I realize you’re not a senior. It’s just that when you think of the change of life, you think – ” If he stuck his foot in his mouth any farther, he was going to choke himself.

  “Stop, Rick,” I said, cringing. “You’ll only make things worse. Go away. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He waved over his shoulder and quickly made his getaway.

  “Let’s go eat before I faint from hunger,” Mother said.

  “Good idea. Food would be a good thing right now.”

  “Senior citizen, indeed,” Mother mumbled, climbing back into the car. “I’ll show him senior citizen. Now you know why I don’t want to see a doctor. And why on earth did you tell him about my curse? That’s personal, Sandra.”

  I didn’t say a word, but concentrated on traffic while we pulled onto the streets of Los Angeles. This was another one of those times I knew instinctively that the less said the better.

  “Tell me more about this great-great-great-grandfather,” I suggested, trying to change the subject.

  “Well, let’s go back to the night of the murder,” Mother said, returning to the story. “He’d been at the cribs all day, and most of the night. From what I’ve read, he was tired and glad to leave that night. But when he walked into the house…”

  Chapter Seven

  1897 (One year earlier)

  There was a spring in the old man’s step as he walked home, even though it had been a long and tiring day. Things were going well and could only get better. The well-bred ladies of the town continued to complain about his business, but no one paid any attention to their squawking. The local minister was making noises too, but the politicians kept putting the preacher off. None of the well-meaning townspeople realized how much power Vincente wielded.

  He thought about the nurse, Jessica, as he neared the house. This could be the one who would change his life. He might even consider divorcing his wife for this woman. She seemed to honestly care for him more than his money. No. No divorce. He chuckled. This one was simply a better actress than the rest of them.

  Nurse. It sounded respectable, didn’t it? It was the sought-after respectability that prompted this title for his mistresses. Everyone knew the truth, but given the right description, people tended to look the other way.

  Except his wife. Their union had been an arranged marriage. Vincente had been young and ambitious, and he’d soft-talked her father, knowing how to play the game and convincing him he had the right traits to make a good husband. And when Merced’s mother and father died, Vincente had come into a very large sum of money, via his wife, just as he’d planned. She hadn’t wanted to sell off her father’s rancho, but her husband had forced the issue, using the cash to involve himself in the sordid side of life. And Merced knew how devious he was. She’d lived with him, not quite willingly, for many years.

  2003

  Mother and I finally had our In-N-Out hamburgers. “I’d forgotten just how good these are,” my mother said, moaning in ecstasy. “I’d eat another one, but I’m too full. And those fries.” She picked up another one and popped it in her mouth, looking around the restaurant.

  “Can’t be beat,” I agreed. “So tell me more about this grandfather of mine.” We’d agreed that, for simplicity’s sake, we’d drop all the greats.

  “Well, Vincente made a lot of enemies, in addition to his political allies, because of his line of work. Needless to say, these adversaries jumped up and yelled loud and clear. This was the first time they’d had a real chance to get rid of your grandfather. But try as they might, they couldn’t get the goods on him. There wasn’t any evidence to connect him to the crime.”

  “No evidence at all?” I asked.

  “None. Vincente had been away all day and all evening, and he had witnesses. It was obvious from what little evidence the authorities could collect, that the woman was killed while Vincente was away. There was some kind of a hearing, but he was released in the end.”

  “What happened next?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Like I said, no one could prove a thing. However, Vincente was a broken man after that. He was never quite the same. He lost some of his power, but not much. Your grandmother tried to use it to her advantage, but that didn’t pan out either. Things basically went back to normal, but the old man had the crime hanging over his head until the day he died. People just wouldn’t believe he was innocent, alibi or no alibi. They simply didn’t like him.”

  “Wow, that’s quite a story.”

  “Yeah, wow. So I want you to figure out who murdered that poor woman. Vincente wasn’t a nice man, and he ran a really sleazy business, but he was a relative, and I want his name cleared. I probably wouldn’t have thought about trying to clear him if you hadn’t become a private investigator, but now I want that black mark erased.”

  “I’m not sure I can do this, Mother. You’re telling me there wasn’t any evidence, plus it happened so long ago. How can I possibly solve the murder?”

  “There was some evidence, just not much. I’ve brought everything I could find with me, and I believe in you, dear. You can do it.”

  My mother believed in me. Those were words I honestly didn’t want to hear come out of her mouth. I could feel the cheerleader coming out in her. I didn’t want to disappoint my mother, but I didn’t think I could help her.

  “I’ll take a look at it, but I can’t make any promises.” I hoped she’d understand.

  “Do your best, and I’ll be happy.” That’s what she used to say to me when I was in school; if I didn’t do well, I felt like I was letting her down.

  “Let’s go home.” I sighed – deeply.

  The drive back to the apartment was quiet. She was giving me time to take it all in, which wasn’t working.

  We arrived home in time for her to watch her soap opera. She’d been watching it since the 1970s, and wasn’t about
to miss an episode if she could help it. I figured it might keep her happy for a while and used the time to call Pete and fill him in.

  “Can you believe it?” I asked after telling him about the mugger. “My mother actually knocked the guy down, and he was afraid of her.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her.” He was laughing. “She must be more like you than I thought.”

  “I’m nothing like that,” I said, bristling.

  “Oh, you manage to take care of yourself, just like she did.”

  “Huh.”

  “I’ll be over around five o’clock to pick you two up for dinner.” Pete effectively changed the subject.

  “We’ll be here, and I’ll be waiting impatiently. So what’s going on around the office? Anything new?”

  “Stanley Hawks stopped in to say hello. He wants to meet your mother.” He was laughing again.

  “What a pair they’d make. Can you imagine the two of them together?” I had a mental image of the two of them standing side by side. I wasn’t sure if it was really humorous or not. “Good ol’ Stanley. How is he?” Stanley had been one of our first clients.

  “Good, but I think he misses the action he saw when he was being stalked. He wanted to know if we’ve had any good cases lately.”

  “He asked that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, boy. Mom will have to tell him her story about the mugger. He’ll love it. Then he can share his story about the big car chase.” Stanley loved a good war story, and he had one from when a stalker had forced him into a car and Pete and I had given chase. It was a wild ride. Of course, Stanley always left out the part where he tossed his cookies at the end of the incident.

  “Okay,” Pete said. “Gotta go. The other line is ringing.”

  “See you tonight.” I hung up.

  Returning to the living room, I found my mother fanning herself. She had small beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

  “I’ll get you a cool rag. You’re sweating.”

  “Ladies don’t sweat, my dear. They dew or they mist,” she explained. “I, being a lady, have never sweated in my entire life.”

  “Okay, then, you’re misting. I’ll get you something to cool you off.”

  “No need, it’s going away.”

  I took a deep breath, bit my tongue and sat down.

  “Would you mind if I use your phone to call Frank tonight, dear?” Mother asked.

  “Of course not. Call him anytime you want to.”

  “Thank you, I’ll keep it short.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Mom, do you go through these symptoms every day?” I gritted my teeth and hoped she wouldn’t snap at me.

  “No, I don’t. It seems that when I’m under stress, it’s worse. And this has definitely been a stressful day for me, between traveling and the mugger. Tomorrow should be better.”

  “I’m glad you don’t have to go through this all the time,” I said sincerely. I knew she must be miserable.

  “I do have a problem with night-sweats though.” She sounded almost apologetic.

  “You mean night-mists.”

  “What time are we going out to dinner?” Other than frowning, she ignored my comment.

  “Pete is going to pick us up around five o’clock.”

  “Hmmm. I find that I’m eating a lot more lately,” Mother said. She was repeating herself again. “It appears to go hand-in-hand with the curse, although I may have mentioned that already. I’ve started taking walks to try to compensate. Would you like to walk with me while I’m here?”

  “Probably, but I can’t do it every day. Sometimes I have to leave for the office pretty early, and sometimes I’m up quite late and want more sleep.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but I wasn’t much into power walking. Then again, maybe she just strolled. Nah, my mother would be a power walker. She wanted to keep her weight down, so she definitely wouldn’t be strolling.

  “Well, I think I’ll call Frank and then take a short nap. I don’t sleep well at night lately, also one of the symptoms. Or did I already tell you that?”

  “I think you did mention it.” She’d repeated a number of things, and I was beginning to worry about her. The things she was saying and doing were so out of character for her. Although I knew a little about the change of life, I probably needed to know more.

  The thought of needing to know more led me to thoughts about the murder. The amount of research ahead of me was daunting. How could I possibly solve a hundred-year-old murder? And could I really accept money from my mother for this job?

  Chapter Eight

  1897 (One Year Earlier)

  Vincente shrugged off thoughts of his wife and her holier-than-thou harping. She frequently crossed the invisible line as she aged, speaking up when she should hold her tongue.

  He started up the steps to the front door but stopped, noticing it was ajar. He could see down the hallway and there was a light in the kitchen. That was odd. The nurse was always in bed waiting for him or asleep when he arrived home.

  He opened the door and walked in. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Walking back toward the kitchen, his steps slow and careful, he felt an unusual concern. Maybe she couldn’t sleep and had gotten up to get a cup of tea. That was most likely it.

  He leaned through the door. The kitchen was in ruins. There were broken dishes on the floor, flour spilled out of its bin, and he saw blood. He thought he could smell the blood, and placed his hand over his nose. Turning to the left, he saw the source.

  The nurse was on her back, lying face up in a pool of red. Something had been tied around her neck and he knew it shouldn’t be there. A bloody knife protruded from her chest. He looked at her face and knew she’d been beaten.

  His hands trembling, he looked around, taking in the scene. He knew he had to pull himself together and take care of business. Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time. Officer Masters would be patrolling the neighborhood. Not the best man to summon, but he’d do. Vincente left in search of help.

  2003

  Mother took the cordless phone into the bedroom with her. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, not that I was trying to listen, but I could hear her soft laughter. And I noticed that her voice was, well, different than I’d ever heard it before. She sounded like a teenager talking to her boyfriend. When she brought the phone out, she was absolutely radiant.

  “That Frank is such a character,” she said, shaking her head. “He wants to come out here, but I told him not to.”

  “Why does he want to come visit? Oh. You told him about the mugger, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes, but I made light of the story. I thought it was pretty funny, but he didn’t seem to agree with me.”

  “Boy, am I surprised.”

  “Oh, Sandi, don’t make this into a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal, Mother. You could have been hurt. Don’t you understand what happened?”

  “Of course I understand. It’s you two who don’t seem to understand. I’m quite proud of the way things turned out. I caught a mugger! All by myself, with no help from anyone.”

  “Luck. It was pure luck and nothing more.”

  She looked hurt, and I regretted what I’d said.

  “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand it if you came out to visit me and went home in bandages, or worse. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I understand,” she said, giving in a little.

  “So is Frank coming out?” I was hopeful. Not only did I want to meet him, but maybe he could keep my mother in line. Wishful thinking.

  “I don’t think so, but you never know with him. He said he’d call and let me know what he decides. So now I’m going to take a nap. Would you wake me at four o’clock? I want time to clean up before we go to dinner.”

  “Sure. While you’re sleeping, I think I’ll run down to the office. I want to take care of a couple of loose ends.”

  “All right, dear, see you in a while.”

  The drive to t
he office didn’t take long. When I walked in, Pete was grinning from ear to ear.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Your mother.”

  “My mother what?”

  “Your mother just called. She said to tell you she’s sorry for being such a ‘pain’ today. Was she? Was she a royal pain in the – ”

  “She’s okay,” I replied quickly. “She’ll be better tomorrow, I’m sure. So what’s going on here? Anything new?”

  “We had a walk-in, an Amanda Lewis. She says some guy named Alan is following her and won’t leave her alone. Amanda said she only went out with him a few times, but now he won’t stop harassing her.

  “The jerk follows her everywhere. When she goes to the grocery store, he turns up in the aisle. If she goes to the mall, Alan waits near her car. He sends her flowers and cards. She’s scared. Does that sound familiar?”

  I’d dated a guy some years ago who’d done basically the same thing. I’d been able to take care of it myself, but that didn’t mean Amanda could.

  “Sure does. What did you tell her?”

  “I took the information Amanda had and told her I’d look into it, of course.” Pete knew what he was doing. I didn’t need to ask a question like that.

  “Good. Who knows what kind of a nut case this guy might be. Did you get a retainer?”

  Pete frowned. “Of course I did.”

  “I know, I shouldn’t have asked.” I was worried about money though, and couldn’t help myself.

  “Amanda said he’s out of town until Sunday, but she knows the whole thing will start up again as soon as he gets back,” Pete added.

  “Okay, let’s start watching her on Saturday night, just in case he comes in early.”

  “My thought exactly,” Pete said, standing up. “I’ll check this guy out tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I’m going home to change clothes before our big dinner date. How long did you say your mother was going to be here?”

  “I didn’t. I don’t know. She said she’d be here for as long as it takes, whatever that means.” I rolled my eyes at Pete.