A Well-Kept Family Secret

by Marja McGraw

  It had been a long walk home after the questioning, but it gave the old man time to think. He resolved to show people that he was searching for the murderer – that he wasn’t going to take the nurse’s death and the accusations against him lying down.

  2003

  We turned as one to look at Stanley. He blushed slightly, apparently surprised to be the center of attention.

  “Stanley, this is Frank,” I said, hoping to give Stanley a moment to pull himself together. “And Frank, this is Stanley Hawks. I’m sorry, Frank, but I don’t know your last name.”

  “It’s Brewster. Frank Brewster. Nice to meet you,” he said, turning to Stanley.

  “My pleasure.” Stanley looked up to meet Frank’s eyes. The two men were as different as night and day.

  “So what have you found?” Pete asked.

  “It’s nothing earth-shaking, but I have found some references to the hidden gold. It seems to have truly existed. I’ve found some evidence that a number of people tried to search it out over the years. At least before the area was built over. You know, Union Station and its parking lot now sit where much of the activity took place.”

  Mother straightened her back before speaking. “Well then, they were looking in the wrong place. And I can’t believe you ever doubted the existence of the gold.” The look she turned on Stanley was chilling, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Where should they have been looking?” I asked. She’d never mentioned anything about knowing a possible location for the gold.

  “Family legend has it that he didn’t bury it anywhere near the brothels.”

  “And where does family legend say the gold is buried?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, exactly, but your aunt Martha says it’s somewhere else, away from the old business area. Obviously no one has ever found it, but it’s said that he hid it someplace where a ‘future generation’ might find it. Those were his exact words, according to my sister. Of course, that leaves a lot to the imagination, and I don’t know where she got her quote, but the gold could be anywhere. Just not near the brothels from what Martha said.”

  “I know where she got the quote, Mom,” I said. “It’s in one of the letters you brought for me to read.”

  “Really? I read them and apparently missed that detail.”

  “Who knows?” I said. “Maybe if we play our cards right, we’ll be that future generation. A treasure hunt could be a lot of fun. I’ll have to see if I can find any clues in the letters.”

  “I don’t think it’s obvious that no one has ever found it,” Pete said, shaking his head. “If someone found the gold, they might not mention it. A lot of people wouldn’t want to have to give up a share of it, and you can bet the government would want some. I’d guess that someone might have made up a story, like maybe they’d received an inheritance or something, and then lived high on the hog, selling the coins a few at a time.”

  “You could be right,” I agreed. “That gold is probably long gone.”

  My mother looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling about this. I don’t think it ever turned up.”

  “Wishful thinking,” I said. The chilling expression originally turned on Stanley was resurrected and redirected at me. Couldn’t I learn to keep my big mouth shut once in a while?

  “You’re going to have to trust my woman’s intuition on this, Sandra.” Mother sounded snappish. “I think it’s worth looking into. And I know just the place to start.”

  “Where?” Stanley asked.

  “At Sandra’s grandmother’s house.” The look on her face was exultant. She knew something we didn’t.

  “It’s still standing?” I asked, quite surprised.

  “Yes. It’s one of the historic homes that still exists. We can drive over there and have a look-see. I’ve always wanted to see the old place anyway. My mother used to talk about visiting there when she was a child. When Vincente’s wife passed away, my mother’s grandfather inherited the old place. I know it’s confusing, trying to keep all these people straight.”

  “Where is it?” Pete asked. “And is it still in the family?”

  “No, the family sold it a long time ago. I can’t remember the exact address, but I can find it. Let me call Martha. She’ll know.”

  “Who’s Martha?” Stanley asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” I said, adamantly.

  He glanced at me with a questioning look on his face, one eyebrow slightly rising.

  “Martha is Livvie’s sister,” Frank explained, a smile barely turning up the corners of his mouth. “She’s a real ball of fire, isn’t she, Sandi?”

  “That’s a nice way to put it,” I replied.

  “Sandra! Your aunt is a wonderful woman.” Mother was using my given name again. She’d called me Sandra three times, in a very short period of time. I was pushing the envelope.

  “She has her moments. Oh, she’s okay,” I relented, “if you can get past her hypochondria, her bossiness and her bull-in-a-china shop attitude.” I couldn’t seem to quit pushing, but I grinned when I said it.

  “Oh,” Stanley muttered.

  “Sorry, Mom. I know she’s your sister, and I really do love her, but she is kind of a pain in the neck.”

  “That will be enough of that, Sandra,” Mother warned. I noticed that she was beginning to wave her hand in front of her face again and decided to back off, especially since the Sandra count was up to four.

  “Okay. You call your sister,” Pete said, “and we’ll see if we can find this place. Who knows? Maybe something will come of it.” He didn’t sound very convincing to me.

  I happened to glance out the front window and was rewarded with the sight of a black car driving by. As it passed I could see that the back bumper was missing.

  “There he is,” I said, running to the door. I jerked it open and stepped out only to see the mysterious vehicle turning the corner.

  “Missed him again,” I grumbled, returning to the office.

  “Missed who?” Frank asked.

  “Somebody in a black car has been following me and I don’t know why. I wish I could get a look at him.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Pete asked. “I haven’t seen any black car hanging around here.”

  “Mother saw it too,” I answered, turning to her for confirmation. “I told you about it.”

  “What? The black car without a bumper? You bet I did. He was hanging around Sandi’s apartment.” She glanced at Pete as she pulled my map out of her purse and began fanning herself rapidly. I’d have to remember to buy her a fan and get my map back. I use it a lot.

  “Okay. I’ll keep an eye open and see if I can figure out who it is,” Pete said, taking a step backward, away from my mother and her increasingly rapid fanning.

  “And what he wants,” I added.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well,” Frank said, “I hate to break this up, but if Pete will give us a ride to the rental agency, I’ll pick out a car and we’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Sure.” I noticed Pete was looking at my mother with some trepidation. He glanced at Frank, but the man wasn’t showing any reaction to mother’s frantic movements.

  I decided this wasn’t the right time to tell her about the doctor’s appointment I’d made. With her fanning herself, Pete backing away, and Frank ignoring the whole thing, it took great self-control not to giggle. It was an overwhelming sensation and I could feel it bubbling up. I carefully stared at the floor, slowly moving my gaze to the wall, then the ceiling. I bit my tongue. The feeling slipped away.

  “I won’t be gone long,” Pete said, turning to me.

  “Okay, see you in awhile.” A small giggle slipped out.

  “Would you and Pete like to meet us somewhere for dinner?” my mother asked. She hadn’t noticed the giggle. I breathed.

  “Why don’t you get settled in your room and then give me a call? We’ll do something.”

  “All right, dear.” Once ag
ain she sounded like her old self. The fanning was less pronounced.

  “You have an interesting family,” Stanley commented after the group left the office.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. And with some luck, you won’t meet more of them any time soon.”

  “Are you thinking of your aunt Martha?”

  “Aunt Martha. Martha Anne Washington. A true tyrant.”

  “Martha Washington? Really?”

  “Really, although she’s nothing like the original, I’m sure. And it’s her married name, although she’s divorced now.”

  “Hmmm.” Stanley sat down and returned his gaze to the computer screen.

  “So, what do you see there?” I asked.

  “Well, word of the hidden gold spread quickly, from what I’ve read. No one dared try to find it while Vincente was still alive, but when he passed on, it was a free-for-all. Everyone from his children to the town’s elite went in search of it. According to this, no one ever found it.”

  “What are you reading?”

  “An article someone posted about Los Angeles history. Don’t know where they got their information.”

  “Maybe I’ll learn more when the microfilm comes in at the library,” I said.

  “Maybe.” Stanley sounded distracted. I’d lost him again. He’d begun to read and I doubted if he had any idea that I was still there.

  I sat down at Pete’s desk and began to read more of the old letters. Most of them were newsy, about the adult children and the prospect of grandchildren. Some of them were gossipy, telling about the local people and what they were up to.

  I picked up another letter, several pages long, and began to read. It was what Merced Chavez, my grandmother, had written to her sister about the murder. I thought this would be the letter I’d been waiting for, but I was in for a disappointment. There were no startling details. She told her sister that Vincente had come home to find the body, that he’d been arrested and released, and that as much as she’d come to detest the old man, she couldn’t believe he’d committed this heinous crime. She went on to tell her sister how she and the children were being snubbed by L.A.’s finest citizenry. She ended the letter by telling her sister that she knew “...how to snub with the best of them. I can also play that game, and I will.”

  I couldn’t really blame her for the way she felt. She hadn’t asked her husband to open brothels, and she’d kicked him out because of their existence. It wasn’t her fault the nurse had been murdered. In fact, other than spousal support, it sounded as though she’d tried to distance herself from Vincente. He simply kept popping in and out of her life.

  I read another newsy letter, and was about to give up for the moment when I decided to read one more.

  Dr. Drake visited me today, Sister. I have had such headaches. He gave me some medicine and left abruptly. I cannot explain why, but he seemed quite nervous. I felt he was in a hurry to be away from my home, and he appeared to be quite uncomfortable in my presence. I believe it must be due to his friendship with V, or maybe his brother, Miguel. Beyond that, I cannot explain his peculiar behavior.

  Nervous, huh? I decided to start a list of the players in this little drama. I started with Vincente, added his brother Miguel whom I’d heard stories about, and ended with Dr. Drake. I’d add names when they came up. As an afterthought, I added Merced’s name. I didn’t suspect her, but she had been a part of the story. I couldn’t help but wonder what the nurse’s name was. I figured it would turn up somewhere in my research.

  I glanced toward the window and noted the front end of a black car parked across the street. I jumped up and grabbed my backpack and keys, just in case it was the black car.

  “Back in a minute, Stanley.” I slowed down and casually approached the door, not wanting to scare this person off.

  “Sure,” Stanley said, still engrossed in the Internet.

  I opened the door and heard an engine start. Glancing up, I saw the black car begin to move. I ran to the side of the building, keys ready, and raced toward my car. This guy wasn’t going to give up. Who was he?

  “Here,” Pete yelled.

  I turned and saw his car idling next to the curb. I ran over, pulled open the door and jumped in, barely closing it before Pete drove away, making a sharp u-turn.

  “You saw him,” I said gratefully.

  “I saw him. Now let’s find out what’s going on.”

  Tires squealing, the black car turned left while we made our u-turn. I quickly buckled my seatbelt, remembering that Pete’s driving can be a little scary sometimes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  1898

  It turned out to be a long and tiring night for the old man. He couldn’t put thoughts of the previous year aside, and that was bothersome. He wanted to go home and sleep, but knew this would be a futile effort – that the new nurse would be lying in wait, ready to start an argument, unlike the dead nurse who’d always waited with open arms. But if Florence valued the lifestyle she had enjoyed while living under his roof, she’d leave him alone for the moment.

  He wouldn’t really throw her out, at least not yet, but the thought seemed to surface more frequently. In the meantime, he would continue to avail himself of her lascivious nature.

  Vincente stopped walking and settled himself on someone’s short brick wall. He intended to rest for a moment before continuing the journey home. Ah, but his thoughts once again returned to the old troubles.

  2003

  Pete stepped on the gas pedal and we flew around the corner, tires screaming, only to find absolutely nothing. It had taken us too long to get moving.

  “Next time I’m not waiting for you,” Pete said.

  “Okay,” I snapped at him.

  “You’re not going to argue with me?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  Pete drove around the block and we returned to the office. We didn’t discuss the situation because there was nothing to say. Well, there were things to be said, but we needed a few minutes to think it all over.

  Pete held the door open and I entered the office, with him following.

  “You know he’ll be back,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Of course he will.” Now that he knew I was really being followed, Pete wouldn’t argue the point. “He wants something, and he’s not going to give up. What I want to know is, who in the hell is this guy?”

  “I can’t figure out where he came from,” I said. “All of a sudden he just seemed to appear, like out of nowhere. We aren’t working on any big cases right now, so I don’t believe it has anything to do with a client.”

  Pete frowned. “Okay, let’s go down the list. We must be working on something significant, or at least it’s important to someone.”

  “No. There’s nothing. We’ve got our bread-and-butter insurance cases, but that’s it. We haven’t even officially started on Amanda’s stalker situation yet. All that leaves is the old murder, and anyone involved in that is dead and buried.”

  Pete looked skeptical at the mention of the old case.

  “I know this sounds ridiculous,” I continued, “but do you think there could be relatives around who would have an interest in the old crime?”

  “That’s a stretch, Sandi. No, I don’t think it’s a relative. How would they even know we were working on this?”

  “Good point.” I was grasping at straws and I knew it.

  “Speaking of Amanda, I’m going to drive over to her place tonight and check it out,” Pete said. “Want to come along?”

  “You bet I do. I don’t like what this guy is doing to her. There are some real jerks out there.”

  “Yeah, and I think you used to believe I was one of them.”

  “No, I didn’t. It’s just that everywhere we went, women seemed to know you. And all you ever said was that you used to work that beat, no matter what beat we were on. If I can trust what you tell me, you must have worked every area in this town.” I was getting worked up, thinking back to the beginning of ou
r relationship. Women would come on to Pete and act like I wasn’t even there. If they’d had flyswatters, I think they would have smacked me.

  Pete laughed. “Calm down before you go off on one of your tangents. That’s in the past and it’s time to leave it there.”

  “I know, but I can’t help remembering how those women practically knocked me down to get to you.”

  “Jealous?” Pete was grinning, enjoying himself.

  “Hardly,” I replied, not wanting him to know how much it had really bothered me. “And it’s not funny, so wipe that smile off your face.”

  “You are jealous,” he said triumphantly.

  “Am not.” I turned and walked over to Stanley, who’d cleared his throat to remind us of his presence.

  “You two are a riot. I have such a wonderful time around you. I think I’ll write a verse for one of my greeting cards with you two in mind. I’ll bet it would sell like hot cakes.”

  “Why don’t you go visit with Pete?” My eyes were narrowing and I could feel my mouth beginning to purse tightly.

  “Okay, relax, Sandi,” Pete said. “No more teasing. I didn’t realize you were so thin-skinned.”

  “I’m not thin-skinned. But you know, I’ve had men come on to me, too. You’re not the only one who can attract the opposite sex.”

  “Yeah, the last one who came on to you also tried to kill you,” Pete said, thinking back to the missing college student case.

  “He’s right, Sandi.” Stanley offered his two cents. I found myself suddenly tired of both men.

  “Don’t help, Stanley, or I’m outta here.”

  “Ooooh,” Stanley said. “I see what you mean, Pete. She is a fiery little thing.”

  “What? What have you two been talking about?” I didn’t need both of them teasing me.

  “We weren’t talking about you,” Stanley said. “I was just joking.” He was nervous, not used to this type of interaction and kidding. I could tell because of the way he was tugging at his collar, as if it was too tight, and the fact that his grammar wasn’t as formal as usual. And whenever he was nervous, a tic would begin around his eyes. It kind of jumped around like a little bug, and it was currently warming up for a dance.