A Well-Kept Family Secret

by Marja McGraw

  I ate a light breakfast, consisting of cookies and milk. Next, ready for a shower, I looked in the mirror and noticed my face was covered with dirt from last night’s fiasco. My hair didn’t look too great either. I took the much-needed shower and washed the dirt off my face and out of my hair. I thought of Stanley’s wild spinning. A nervous giggle escaped my lips before I could stop it. I shook off the thought, dried off and pulled on jeans and a shirt.

  While driving to the office, I thought about everything that had happened in recent days. It was overwhelming, so I shoved it all out of my mind, concentrating on what needed to be done to try to resolve the Vincente issue. I was just about out of resources, meaning letters, newspaper articles and ideas.

  Arriving at the office, I unlocked the door and turned on the lights. I had the coffee going in nothing flat, and called Mrs. Baker, telling her I’d found a metal box.

  “I’ll be right over,” she replied. She wasn’t joking and made it to the office inside of fifteen minutes. I lifted the box out of the file drawer and set it in front of her.

  “It’s locked.” She looked disgusted.

  “I can take care of that.”

  It had a cheap lock on it. I brought out my trusty hammer, and after a couple of sharp whacks, the lock fell off.

  “I’m half afraid to open it,” Mrs. Baker said in her shaking, aging voice. “I don’t trust Samuel, even though he’s dead and gone.”

  She took a deep breath and pulled the lid up on the box. A tear ran down her face. I leaned over to look inside.

  Ashes. Mr. Baker had turned the will and insurance policy into a pile of ashes.

  “That old bugger!” she said fiercely. “I should have divorced him fifty years ago. He always did have a mean streak. But I’m getting even with him.”

  “You are?”

  “You bet I am. I’m marrying the man he hated most in life on Saturday. I hope he twirls in his grave. Ha!” She thumbed her nose, glancing skyward. “My mistake.” She looked down and thumbed her nose again.

  “Thank you, Ms. Webster. You’ve done me a great favor by finding that box. There was a tiny bit of guilt in the back of my mind, but it’s gone now.” With that she dropped the metal box in my wastebasket.

  The ashes were still floating to the floor as she stomped out the door.

  “Okay, chalk up one for the ladies,” I said to myself.

  Stanley showed up about half an hour later. He tripped as he walked into the office, but the grin on his face never wavered. When was he going to remember to step over the little lip at the door? He always tripped over it.

  “We had a good time last night, didn’t we?”

  “Honestly, Stan. You could have been shot.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t. So I had a good time.”

  Ah… it dawned on me that he’d been wanting one more war story to add to his list.

  “Are you on your way to work?” I asked.

  “Yes, but I thought I’d check in with you first. I’ll have to tell the fellows about our adventure. I think they’re jealous that I’m having such a wonderful time.”

  “Stanley – ”

  “Okay. In the future we’ll be more careful. I’ll do my best to ensure that no one will ever take me by surprise again.”

  I sighed, one of many sighs over the past several days. Lord knows, the people in my life were giving me plenty of reason to breathe deeply.

  “What are you going to do today?” Stanley asked.

  “I’m going to drive over to the library and go through some old newspapers. I’m running out of ideas and hoping I’ll find something there. I think they’ve got the papers on microfiche, at least that’s what the librarian told me last time I was there. Anyway, I know she ordered something for me.”

  “Good luck, Sandi. I’ll check in with you this afternoon. I’d like to take more vacation days and continue working with you. Would that be acceptable?”

  “Of course, Stan. You seem to be the research expert, although I think I’m catching up with you.”

  “Good. I’ll speak to my supervisor this morning. I never take a vacation, so I know he’ll agree to let me have more time off.” He grinned. “We could have another adventure today.”

  I groaned.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  1898

  Vincente sat quietly for a full five minutes, glaring at his brother and watching as Miguel became progressively more nervous. The younger man broke out in a sweat and tugged uncomfortably at his shirt collar, but he refused to be the first one to break the silence.

  Vincente suddenly stood and walked out the door, closing it quietly, too quietly, as he exited the house. The younger brother was unsettled by the silent exit of his older sibling.

  A moment later there was a knock. Miguel opened the door, fully expecting to see that his brother had returned.

  The sight of two large thugs threw him into a panic. He backed away from the door, and that was the last thing he remembered until he awoke in a hospital, two days later.

  2003

  Stanley left the office and I cleaned up the ashes, chuckling to myself. How did people let things get this out of control? I’d never understand. It sure wasn’t a great statement for marriage.

  After dumping the rest of the ashes in the trash basket and having another cup of coffee, I locked up and drove to the library. The librarian had found what I wanted and showed me how to use the machine. I got busy and began the tedious job of searching old newspapers.

  I’d read for quite a while, learning more about the citizens of Old Los Angeles than I really wanted to know, when I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Glancing at my watch, I discovered that I’d been at it for almost three hours. I decided to read two more papers, then go eat. I was having visions of an In-N-Out hamburger when something caught my eye.

  There was an article about Miguel Chavez. The police had been summoned when he was found in his house, apparently beaten to a pulp. He’d been transported to the hospital where he’d remained unconscious for two days.

  When the police questioned him, he refused to tell them what had happened, saying it was a family matter. Short article, not much information. But it meant something to me, since I knew the brothers had a falling out over the buried treasure.

  I temporarily forgot about food and read through the newspapers dated for the next few days.

  I found another article, this one about Dr. Drake. His patients notified the police that he’d disappeared. No one could locate him, and his house looked deserted. The police were looking into the matter.

  A day later there was a brief article stating that the police had spoken to Dr. Drake’s housekeeper. She informed them that when she arrived to clean the doctor’s home, she found a note saying he’d moved away and wouldn’t be returning. There was no speculation about his sudden departure. End of story.

  I printed copies of each article and headed for the In-N-Out. Returning to the office, hamburger in hand, I reread the stories while I ate.

  I took out a pad of paper and began making notes, including everything I’d found out to date. I finished writing and leaned back in my chair, realizing the picture was becoming clearer with each piece of information.

  The front door opened and Pete walked in.

  “What are you doing back?” I asked. I was happy to see him, but I’d thought he’d be gone for a few more days. I stood up and held out my arms. He didn’t respond.

  “Not too happy to see me, are you?”

  “Huh?” I dropped my arms and put aside the welcoming kiss I’d had in mind.

  “I heard about last night. Rick called the office and someone told him about your little adventure. I thought I told you to stay away from those guys.”

  “And just who do you think you are to tell me to stay away from anyone?” I asked angrily.

  He stopped speaking, stumped. “You’re starting to sound more like your mother lately. Have you been spending too much time with her?”

&
nbsp; “Okay, let’s not get nasty about it.” I loved Mom, but I sure didn’t want to sound like her.

  “What happened?” Apparently Pete had decided to take a different posture.

  “That’s more like it. I took on a new case. An eighty-something woman came in and wanted me to find a will and insurance policy her husband had buried. They were close to being divorced when he died, and he’d hidden everything to get her goat.”

  “You’re making this up,” Pete said. “People in their eighties don’t do things like that.”

  “How long were you a cop? You know people will do anything to get even with each other, even seniors.”

  “Yeah, but – ”

  “Do you want to hear this story or not?” I asked.

  “Go ahead.” He clenched his jaws.

  “Okay, so Stanley and I – ”

  “Stanley was in on this?”

  “Yes,” I said, frustrated. “Now be quiet while I tell you what happened.”

  Pete sat down at his desk and clamped his lips together.

  “So Stanley, who had decided he needed to watch out for me while you were gone, and I drove to the hardware store and bought some yard implements. You know, a shovel, trowels, sledgehammer – ”

  “Sledgehammer?”

  I sighed. “Sledgehammer. And quit interrupting me. We’d already driven over to the property and found that the old man had buried something under a cement slab with a little ‘X’ on it.”

  Pete snickered. I ignored him.

  “So Cleveland, that’s Ham’s partner, was following us. When he saw us buying stuff to dig with, he decided I’d found the buried treasure.”

  I told Pete the rest of the story, while he sat and grinned. The grin was replaced by a grimace when I mentioned the guns Cleveland and Ham used to threaten Stanley and me. I moved past that portion of the story as quickly as possible, and got to the part about Stanley spinning. The grimace turned back into a grin.

  “Huh. That’s quite a story. Stanley’s mother was a fortuneteller? That explains something about Stanley.” Pete was nodding his head.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” I said, feeling almost shy.

  Pete stood up and walked over to my desk. He leaned down and kissed me hello. “And I’m glad to be back.”

  I continued talking and told Pete about my house being ready to move into, and that my mother was going to the doctor’s for a checkup, and since he was back I wanted to take my mother and Frank out to dinner. I wanted to invite Stanley to join us.

  “Why do I have the feeling this will be more than a celebration dinner?” Pete asked.

  “I’ve got a lot of information I want to share with everyone about the old murder. I want some input from all of you. Some of this is starting to make sense, and I think maybe I know who did it.”

  Pete looked surprised. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Yes.”

  I called the motel and left a message for my mother, asking her to phone me. Her appointment had been scheduled for eleven o’clock, and it was after two. She and Frank must have gone shopping or something.

  My mother finally called back around three o’clock. “Sandi, your Dr. Gordon is wonderful. She explained everything to me that I wanted to know. And the best part is, she said I should feel a difference right away with the hormone pills. She also told me that it’s something where you have to experiment a little. If one pill doesn’t work, then we’ll try another.”

  “I’m so glad, Mother. You’re going to have a whole new lease on life.” And so are we, I thought.

  “You were right about asking questions. Thank you, dear. I really appreciate your help with this. Why, I feel better already, just knowing that I’m going to feel a difference. Apparently there’s quite a controversy about hormone pills though. Some say they can cause cancer with prolonged use. Dr. Gordon wanted me to think it over, but I didn’t have to. For me, it’s a matter of quality of life over quantity of life.”

  “I’m happy for you, Mom.” Cancer? I couldn’t help but have second thoughts about the hormone pills, but it was my mother’s life and her decision. Maybe we could talk about it more later. I didn’t want to burst her bubble.

  “So why did you leave a message?” she asked.

  “Pete is back and we want to take you and Frank out to dinner tonight to celebrate your marriage. Oh, and Stanley will be joining us.” I’d called him at work and he said he’d be “delighted” to be included in the evening.

  “We’d enjoy that, honey.”

  “Also, I’ve got some information about Vincente and the murder, and I want some input from all of you.”

  “That’s wonderful, sweetie. You’ve been a busy little beaver, haven’t you?”

  Oh Lord. Was feeling better going to be worse than the way it had been? Dear, honey, sweetie and busy beaver? The only thing missing was, “Good morning, Little Mary Sunshine.” She could have dropped that one on me when she’d called and awakened me. No, she hadn’t seen the doctor when she called.

  “We’ll pick you up at the motel around six o’clock,” I said.

  “Okay, we’ll see you then, darling.”

  We hung up and I took another look at my notes. I couldn’t help but wonder how everyone would react and what conclusions they’d come to.

  I had one other reason for planning the dinner. I wanted to invite them all to help me move the following weekend. No point in putting it off, and I knew they’d be thrilled to help me. Right?

  Pete and I picked up my mother and Frank and drove to the restaurant. Stanley met us there.

  We had reservations and were seated within a matter of minutes. Pete ordered champagne for all of us. This was, indeed, going to be a celebration.

  Stanley brought a package with him, presenting it to my mother and Frank. I felt like a dope; I hadn’t thought to bring anything. I’d make up for it later.

  “Why, thank you, Stanley,” Mother said. He didn’t correct her. I guess it was okay for her to call him Stanley.

  She opened the gift and passed a southwestern-style vase around for all of us to admire. It had the image of a roadrunner dashing across the desert on it.

  Mother chuckled. “That’s lovely, Stanley. Sandi must have told you that Frank and I are moving to the desert. In fact, we’ve found our dream home in Bullhead City, Arizona. It’s up on a hill and we have a view of both Bullhead City and Laughlin.”

  The waiter took our dinner orders and disappeared. I glanced at the surrounding tables, making sure that no one was paying attention to us. I didn’t want another Ham to start dogging my footsteps. No one appeared to be interested.

  “Okay, are you all ready?” I asked.

  “For what?” Frank asked.

  “I’m going to present you with some information about Vincente and the murder, and I want you all to help me make sense of it.”

  “Splendid.” Stanley, of course, was ready for the challenge.

  Chapter Forty

  1898

  Vincente’s steps were slow. He was exhausted, but he had accomplished what needed to done.

  Upon arriving home, he found Florence waiting for him in the parlor. She was tapping her foot and wanted to know where he’d been.

  Vincente informed her that he’d been taking care of business, and that was all she needed to know. He was tired and wanted to be left alone.

  Florence stopped tapping her foot and stepped closer to him. Studying his wrinkled old face, she asked him what he’d done. She’d come to know him well and recognized the tight lines around his eyes and mouth as an indication of trouble.

  He reiterated that he’d been taking care of business, and said that he and some friends had stopped by to see his brother. He added that he’d also sent these same friends to visit Dr. Drake. She didn’t like the tone in his voice, nor the way he’d emphasized the word “friends”. Florence knew that Vincente didn’t have any.

  She said she knew there was more to it and asked him what happened at Miguel’
s house. Vincente told her, sounding almost gleeful.

  Florence began tapping her foot again. She’d lost patience with the old man. She told him he was a fool for suspecting his brother of murder, adding that she knew the younger man hadn’t done it.

  2003

  I glanced at my notes. “It’s fairly short and sweet. I’ve read letters that Merced wrote to her sister, and I’ve read the newspaper articles you brought, Mom. I also spent some time at the library and found a few more articles.

  Everyone looked at me expectantly.

  “Grandmother writes about Vincente’s ‘nurses’, and we all know what they really were, but anyway, there was one who’d been trying to catch Vincente’s eye since before Jessica was killed. Merced felt he was probably going to take this one into his house. Her name was Florence.”

  I glanced at Stanley who appeared totally engrossed in what I was saying, which hadn’t been much – yet.

  “Merced sent her sister a letter saying that she thought Vincente might be trying to reconcile with her, because she kept finding him in the yard, watching the house. I don’t know what he was up to, but I think she was wrong. She actually chased him off with a broom, if you can believe that, and he left without speaking to her.”

  “She chased him off with a broom? My goodness,” Mother said, chuckling. “Spirited little lady, wasn’t she?”

  “Yeah.” I wondered if Merced might have been having a hot flash, but decided against mentioning the thought. I was learning when to keep my mouth closed. “A nosy neighbor came to tell her she’d seen Miguel coming out of a saloon, and he’d been in a fight. This would have been right after the murder. Merced thought the neighbor was her friend and trying to help her, but I think she was the local gossip.”

  Looking from face to face, it appeared everyone was listening closely.

  “There’s another letter which talks about a Dr. Drake coming to see Merced because she’d been having headaches. She says the doctor seemed quite nervous and left the house as quickly as he could. She thought it might be because he and Grandfather were friends, but she didn’t sound all that sure about it. Merced also mentioned in this letter that since the murder, and the ensuing allegations against Vincente, she and her children were being snubbed by the locals. I found myself feeling sorry for her as I read her letters.”