by Marja McGraw
“I can see why,” Mother said. “Poor thing. That old buzzard really did a number on her and the kids.”
We all nodded.
“Other than Merced having headaches, how does this Dr. Drake fit into the picture?” Frank asked.
“As far as I can tell from everything I’ve read, my guess would be that he treated Vincente’s girls – the prostitutes. The two men may have been partners in crime, so to speak. At the very least, they were friends. Merced mentioned that in one of her letters.”
“I see.” Frank seemed to mull that over.
“Then there are two things that happened, but I’m not quite sure of the sequence here,” I continued. “I found a newspaper article that says Florence, the new nurse, sued Vincente for Breach of Promise, claiming that she’d moved into the house to take care of him, and as his health returned she fell in love with him. She said he promised to marry her, but then she found out he was already married to Merced. She said he’d even introduced her to people as his future wife. Florence also tried to say that she hadn’t known anything about his link to the Red Light District, although I think that’s where she came from. Of course, Vincente denied everything.”
Stanley nodded.
“The other thing is that… No, wait a minute. Now I’ve got it. Set the story about Florence aside for a minute. This other situation had to have happened first.”
“What situation?” Frank asked.
“Vincente went to visit Merced. Apparently he needed someone to talk to and chose her. He told her he hadn’t murdered Jessica, and he was going to try to find out who did. She must have had some kind of feelings for him, or it could have been morbid curiosity, because she listened to him instead of kicking him out.”
“Huh.” This profound comment came from Pete.
“When he left the house, Merced happened to look out the front window and she saw Florence, the new nurse, watching the house. Can you believe the nerve of that woman?”
Mother pursed her lips. “I wonder what she was doing there? Maybe she was jealous. After all, he was visiting his wife.”
“Maybe, but that’s not all. Dr. Drake visited her again on the same day, about her headaches, and he was antsy, just like during the other visit. He couldn’t wait to leave.
“When Dr. Drake left, she peeked out the window again. This time she saw Miguel outside. Her letter makes it sound like Dr. Drake and Miguel had an argument. The good doctor ended up smacking Miguel’s hand with the buggy whip and left in a hurry.
“Miguel must have been a doozy, too. He had the gall to wave at Merced before he left.”
“Well. Merced’s house was a pretty busy place. Let’s try to put this all together.” Frank was rubbing his hands together.
“Wait, there’s more,” I interrupted.
“More?” Stanley asked.
“Yes. Remember what I told you about Florence. Before her lawsuit could get to court, she committed suicide.”
“Oh,” Mother said. I’d been surprised, too, when I first found that information. “When did that happen?”
“It must have been about a year after the murder. Also, around the same time, Miguel was beaten into unconsciousness and taken to the hospital, and Dr. Drake left town in a big hurry. As far as I can tell, the doctor was never seen or heard from again.
“So you see, there’s a lot to put together, and even if we come up with a probable scenario, I don’t see any way to prove our theories.”
“Hmmm.” Stanley was rubbing his chin, looking pensive.
I glanced around the table. Everyone was deep in thought.
“So what do you think?” I asked the group.
“Give us a minute to digest all of this,” Pete said.
Our dinner arrived and no one said a word while we ate. I could practically see the wheels spinning in each of their wee little heads.
Pete was the first to push his plate aside. “I’m going to go with Miguel. No matter what anyone else said or did, he’s the one who was beaten and ended up in the hospital. I think your grandfather found out it was Miguel and sent someone to take care of him.”
“What about the doctor’s disappearance?” I asked.
Mother tapped her fingernails on the table. “I think the doctor did it, got found out, and skipped town before Vincente could do the same thing to him that he did to his brother.” She looked quite proud of her deductions.
“I agree with Pete,” Frank said. “It makes the most sense to me. Except, why did Miguel kill her? What’s the motive?”
“What else? Money,” Pete replied. “I’d be willing to bet it had something to do with that treasure. Greed will make people do a lot of things. Or maybe Miguel had an affair with Jessica and it got out of hand.”
Stanley turned to me. “Who do you think did it, Sandi?”
“I may be way off, but I think Florence did it.”
“Florence? Why Florence?” Mother asked.
“I’m not sure, but I have a strong feeling she did it. Maybe because she wanted Jessica out of the way so she could move in on Vincente. It could have been a crime of passion. Or maybe it had something to do with the business they were all in. I just don’t know. Maybe she wanted to get to the treasure. You know, find out where it was buried and then skip town with it.”
“Hmmm.” Stanley again. “I think…” He waved his hand and knocked over a glass of water. “Oh dear.”
I motioned for the waiter to come over and he brought a towel to mop up with while we continued to talk things through.
“I think it was someone we don’t have any information on,” Stanley said. “They all had their reasons for doing away with her, but none of those reasons seem quite strong enough to make someone murder her. Even your grandmother, Merced, had plenty of reason take the woman’s life. I mean, look what your grandfather put her through. And what about his children? He hurt them, too. Sorry, Sandi, but your grandfather was a nasty man.”
“Yes, he was. And you could be right,” I agreed. “I don’t see any way that we’ll ever know for sure. And, Mom, I think I’ve taken this about as far as I can.”
“I appreciate all of your hard work, honey. It was worth a try. I was just hoping something would turn up. Some little crumb of evidence.”
“I think we’ve got plenty of crumbs, but they don’t equal a whole cookie.”
There was a lot of discussion, but we simply didn’t have enough information.
I finally asked, “Can I talk all of you into helping me move into the house? I don’t really have that much furniture, so it wouldn’t be too big of a deal.”
“Of course, we will,” Mother said. “And you and I will go shopping for some more furniture this week. In fact,” her voice took on an angry tone, “you should have been out of that terrible apartment a long time ago. For crying out loud, you can afford something better than that.”
I thought I lived in a pretty nice apartment, albeit a small one, so my mother took me by surprise. Of course, she didn’t know about my financial situation.
“Now, Livvie, she’s moving, so don’t get upset about it. Did you take your new hormone pill?” Frank asked innocently.
“Hormone pill? Hormone pill? Do you think taking a hormone pill will solve Sandi’s problems?”
“I don’t have any problems,” I said. “And take the stupid pill.”
Mother actually gasped. “What did you say?”
“I said to take the stupid pill and start feeling better.”
Pete began to laugh. My mother glared at him, which made him laugh harder. She suddenly sputtered and started laughing with him.
“Now isn’t this better?” Stanley asked.
Mother laughed harder, and soon Frank joined in. Laughter can be contagious, and thankfully it worked that way for us.
Forty-one
1898
Florence knew that Vincente’s brother hadn’t killed Jessica? Placing his hands firmly on her arms, he asked her how she knew this.
Shaking him off, she told him she’d seen Jessica alive that night, after his brother left. She stopped talking, fearfully aware that she’d crossed a line and spoken to him when being quiet would have served her better. She’s said too much and she was afraid he’d make her pay for it. She quickly stepped away from him.
Vincente wanted to know why Florence had been to see Jessica. She told him it wasn’t important. Changing the subject to divert his attention, she informed him she was leaving, and that he’d be hearing from her attorney. Florence complained that he’d trifled with her affections long enough, and she was suing him for Breach of Promise.
Calmly, calling her a greedy whore, the old man told her to get out. He said he’d had enough of her harping anyway. Vincente flapped his hand at her in an imperious manner and turned his back, ending the conversation.
Her bags were already packed and she was gone in a heartbeat, thankful he hadn’t hurt her.
Vincente sat down in a chair and began to laugh, a sound that hadn’t passed the old man’s lips in a very long time. He laughed so hard that he gave himself a coughing fit.
2003
The next morning I picked my mother up early and we drove over to Merced’s house, no, my house, and met the realtor. The seller had agreed to let me start moving my things in before escrow closed. Joanne handed me the key, shook my mother’s and my hands, and left us to enjoy ourselves. I couldn’t actually move in until Wednesday, but I was being allowed to get a bit of a head start with papering shelves and preparing the house.
“Did you take your hormone pill this morning?” I asked cautiously.
“Yes, dear, I took my pill.”
“Do you feel any different?”
“She said I’d feel better quickly, but I doubt if she meant this fast.” Mother sounded irritable.
We spent the morning papering kitchen shelves and talking. Mother had very few mood swings, and it was a companionable time for us.
“I never had the chance to tell you too much about Frank’s and my new house,” Mother said. “It’s only about a year old, but the man who had it built was transferred to another state. You’re going to love it, Sandi. Wait until you see it. Someone told me nothing grows in the desert, but they’re wrong. This house is surrounded by flowering plants. It’s got bougainvillea, lantana, and all kinds of things. And it has a row of beautiful hibiscus bushes in the backyard.”
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Mom. Really.” Frank had found a house with hibiscus bushes.
She shrugged her shoulders and mumbled something before papering another shelf.
I noticed a cabinet that had wire netting in the door where it should have been solid. “Do you know what this is for?” I asked.
“That’s where they used to store fruits and vegetables.”
“Ah.” Live and learn. I kind of liked the idea.
“I’d be willing to bet Merced even had a vegetable garden out in the backyard. Can you imagine having fresh veggies every day? That would be a treat. It seems like most of the produce I buy at the store is flavorless. I think they pick it before it’s ripe.”
“I’d love to plant a vegetable garden out back,” I said thoughtfully, “but with my job I’m afraid I couldn’t give it enough attention.”
“You could plant things like tomatoes. They don’t seem to take a lot of care.”
“Good idea. I’ll think about it. But that leads to something else, Mom. That backyard is a mess. I’ve got to get it cleaned up.”
“So when we all move you in, which won’t be a big job, we’ll work on the yard, too. Throw a barbeque and everyone will be happy.”
“You have such faith,” I said uncertainly. “Do you think they’d really be willing to do the move and the yard?”
“Sure,” she replied. “I’ll see to it.”
Of course she would.
We were moving my things on Wednesday, but waiting until Saturday to work on the yard. It would give me some time to start putting things in order before everyone came over again.
I knew a man, Owen Bulunker, who owned a used furniture store. One of my first cases had been for him, and he’d paid for my services with office furniture. He stocked a lot of junk in his store, but he also carried some quality furniture. Used, but not abused. And if I remembered correctly, he had a few pieces of antique furniture that would look wonderful in Merced’s – my house. Mom and I paid him a visit.
My landlord didn’t throw a snit about me not giving him more than a week’s notice. My rent was paid up through the end of the month anyway, and I’m sure he figured I’d caused enough trouble in the building for one lifetime. His lifetime, that is.
Wednesday arrived too quickly. I’d acquired more things over time than I’d realized, and there was a lot to pack. I’d made a few trips to the house with carloads of boxes prior to Wednesday. The cupboard was full of dishes and the kitchen utensils were resting comfortably in their respective drawers.
Pete rented a moving truck and everyone arrived early to start loading. I had coffee and donuts waiting.
“I’ll miss you,” a high, squeaky voice said. I turned to see who was talking to me and found Mrs. Temple, a neighbor, standing behind me. She was at least eighty years old and stood about four feet and ten inches tall. With her permed hair and glasses that sat on the end of her nose, she was just about as cute as a button. “All your comings and goings have kept me quite entertained.”
I smiled at her. “To be honest, I thought you’d all be glad to see me leave.”
“Oh, no. Ever since they took Frieda away, she had the Big ‘A’ you know – ”
“The Big ‘A’?” Arthritis? Rheumatism? No, the Big “A”, not the Big “R”.
“Alzheimer’s,” she whispered.
“Oh.” I remembered the day an ambulance had come to take Frieda Glatz, another neighbor away, but I never knew what the problem was. I felt guilty that I hadn’t paid more attention to these little old ladies. They used to bring me cakes and cookies, and Frieda’s specialty, homemade strawberry ice cream.
“Anyway, ever since they took Frieda away, I haven’t had anyone or anything to keep me busy. So I’ve been watching you and your young man. Oh, Lordy, the trouble you two get into. My, my.” She chuckled. “I watch out my window, you know, just to be sure you’re okay. I remember the time the hairy man tried to do something to Pete’s car and they got in a fist fight.” Her eyes lit up with the memory of what she’d seen during one of our first cases.
“I appreciate that, Mrs. Temple. By the way, what is your first name?” I’d never asked before, but now I wanted to know. She was just so darned cute.
“Bless your little heart, it’s Dolly. I wish I was about forty years younger. I’d ask you for a job. What fun we’d have.” The wistful expression on her face spoke volumes about aging and life’s changes.
“I’ll bet we would,” I said, giving her a hug.
“Keep in touch, dear.” She wiped a tear from her eye and turned back to her own apartment.
“I will,” I said, with the best of intentions.
We finished loading the truck, preparing for my new beginning. I glanced at Dolly’s window and saw the curtain move, so I waved goodbye, resolving to call her from time to time.
We drove over to the new house and unloaded everything, with me directing. It didn’t take nearly as long as I’d expected.
“Now the fun part,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “I get to put it all away.”
“You’re looking forward to that?” Stanley asked.
“Oh, yes. This is going to be my house eventually and I can do whatever I want. No rules but my own and my landlord’s. And my mother won’t care what I do. I’m going to enjoy this.”
About that time Owen’s truck pulled up and his men started unloading a few pieces of furniture. I hadn’t gone overboard, but with my mother’s help I bought a bedroom set for the extra be
droom and a filing cabinet and bookcase for the third bedroom, which I planned on turning into an office. I knew there was an old desk in the attic, and I was hoping it was in good enough shape to use. If not, I could make a second trip to Owen’s store.
“Looks like you’re set,” Pete said, settling on the couch. He glanced at his watch. “And it’s only ten-thirty. You’ve got all day to put things away.”
“Not quite. Would you help me up in the attic? I saw some furniture up there and a lot of boxes. I’d like to see what’s useable and get rid of what’s not.”
“Today?” he asked. “Haven’t you got enough to keep you busy for a while?”
“Tell you what, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight and we’ll go through the attic then. I’m excited to see what’s up there.”
“If you’ll invite me too, I’ll help with the attic,” Stanley said hopefully.
“If you’ll invite us, we’ll bring dinner,” Mother said.
Frank nodded his approval. “I have a fascination with antiques, and from what Livvie’s told me, it sounds like you’ve got an attic full of wonderful treasures.”
I laughed, never expecting this kind of cooperation. “Go get some rest and come back around five o’clock.”
“I’ll just rest right here,” Pete said, from his spot on the couch. “Besides, I figure you’re going to need some help moving and rearranging.”
“Will wonders never cease?”
So, with the exception of Pete, they all left. I sat down next to him and patted his knee. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He tried to say it grudgingly, like I’d worked him too hard, but it didn’t quite come out that way.
“Mother and I were talking, and we were thinking that maybe on Saturday you could all come back for a barbeque.”
“And?” Pete asked suspiciously. He knew me too well.
“And we can get the backyard cleaned up.”