All Signs Point to Murder

by Connie Di Marco

“Oh, yes. It’s her second home. I mean, she has her own place, her own apartment, but it’s small, and she’s head over heels in love with Ashley, so she stays over a lot to spend time with her. I’m really upset about today. I just can’t have her around Ashley if she’s drinking or … worse. Rob would go ballistic …” Brooke took a sip of her wine and gave me her full attention. “So … what about you, Julia? We haven’t had much time to chat. Anyone in your life right now?”

  I smiled. Brooke was well aware of Michael’s death, and like everyone else, she expected me to have moved on. I was getting tired of explaining why I hadn’t.

  “No, not yet.” I shook my head. “Maybe someday.” The subject of Michael reminded me that I hadn’t returned a call from Celia, Michael’s mother, my former would-have-been mother-in-law. The business of the wedding had given me an excuse to delay. I dreaded returning her call. After Michael’s death, Celia had done everything possible to avoid speaking to me. According to her logic, I was responsible for his death. If he hadn’t been rushing to meet me, he would never have been struck by a hit-and-run driver. His sister Maggie had done her best to heal the breach, but it had gone on so long, I’d given up hope. The fact that Celia had called was decidedly strange. I had no idea what she wanted, but I could guarantee one thing. The conversation would be psyche-bending.

  I’d procrastinate one more day and call back tomorrow, I decided. I finished my wine and felt a sudden fatigue wash over me. I knew if I didn’t fall into a bed soon, I’d collapse on the floor. “I better turn in, Brooke. Thanks again for putting me up.”

  “No bother at all. You go ahead. I just have to let Cassie out.”

  “You have to walk the dog at this hour?”

  “Oh, no. I take her down to the garage. Her doggie door leads to her run in the backyard. Thank goodness the gardeners clean up out there.” She laughed and rose from the table. “We let her out to play in the yard as well, but she loves to jump the fence when we’re not looking.”

  Just then, Cassie, a large yellow lab, bounded into the kitchen and nuzzled against my hip.

  “She’s beautiful. Is she good with kids?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. She’s a retired service dog. She’s really more Rob’s dog than mine. He’s trained her. She’s very smart.” Brooke nuzzled Cassie’s face and was rewarded with a big slippery lick. “Aren’t you, girl?”

  Cassie sniffed my leg and I patted her head. Before I could get out of the way, she lifted her head and lapped at my cheek. I laughed. “I guess I’m used to my cat, who’s a lot less demonstrative.”

  Brooke stood up. “Come on, Cassie. Let’s go downstairs.” Cassie, nails clicking on the tile floor, bounded after her as she left the kitchen.

  I stifled a huge yawn and found my way back through the foyer to the den. I slipped out of my jeans and T-shirt and into the pajamas Brooke had loaned me. Snuggling under the sheets, I pulled the comforter up to my chin. I was forgetting something. Oh yes—Wizard, my cat. He was at my grandmother’s house in North Beach, where I’d stayed while helping my friend Gale reorganize her shop, the Mystic Eye. This had been followed by almost three days of wedding preparations. With all the activity, it was easiest just to camp out in North Beach, close to everyone. I live out on 30th Avenue, in the outer Richmond. My place is small, but I love it. I’m just a few blocks from China Beach and the Golden Gate straits, where the fog rolls in every afternoon and the foghorns lull me to sleep at night.

  I knew Wizard wouldn’t be dealing with my absence well at all, in spite of the fact that my grandmother constantly feeds him treats. He usually climbs onto the bed with me as soon as I’m in it and his purring lulls me to sleep. Poor Wiz. I sent him mental kisses. We’ll both be home soon.

  I heard footsteps and a door closing. The walls of the house were solid, but I was sure I heard Brooke downstairs in the garage calling Cassie back into the house. After that, all was quiet. I picked up the book I’d packed and settled in to read a few chapters. I was working my way through a study of astrological chart comparisons.

  The page began to blur before my eyes and I must have drifted off. I slept until the explosions woke me.

  five

  I came to instantly, my heart banging against my rib cage. Every nerve in my body was alive and singing. There had been two, then a third. They were gunshots and they were close. Very close.

  I leaped out of bed, pulling on my robe as I ran down the hallway and pushed through the door to the foyer. A lamp on the table cast a soft glow over the room. Mary Leary was standing on the stairway. She seemed groggy and confused.

  “Mary, I heard something. I think it came from the garage. Can you wake Brooke and Rob up?” Mary nodded but continued to stand, transfixed. My tone firmer, I said, “Something’s really wrong, Mary. Please go get Rob and Brooke.”

  Mary finally nodded. Her face was white with fright. She turned away and climbed the stairs. I headed for the hallway door that led to the garage and tried the knob. It was locked. Then I heard footsteps thundering down the stairs and Matt appeared beside me.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Gunshots. I’m pretty sure.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” He’d pulled on a pair of jeans and was rubbing his tousled head.

  “I was in the den, right above the garage. I think that’s where they came from.”

  Matt grabbed the doorknob and pulled, but the door didn’t budge. “It must be locked from the other side. Let’s see if we can get in there from the back yard.”

  “Wait. I hear something.” We backed away in unison, unsure what to do. The door flew open. Rob stood in the darkened doorway, his face ashen. He stared at us for a long moment and finally said, “Call 911. I think I’ve shot an intruder.”

  Matt and I stared at him, unable to speak.

  “He … he shot at me first. I was in the library. I couldn’t sleep. I … I heard the door at the back of the house … the one that leads into the garage. It squeaks. I was afraid someone was trying to break in so I went down. Look, I’ll explain later. Can somebody please call 911?”

  I glanced around and spotted a phone on the side table. My fingers were shaking but I managed to punch in the numbers. The operator answered immediately. “Please send someone to 793 Clay Street. There’s been a shooting.” The dispatcher wanted more details. I gave her my name, but kept telling her I didn’t have any answers.

  I looked at Rob. “We have to go down. We need to see what’s happened there.”

  Brooke had appeared at the top of the stairs. Her face was pale.

  “I’ll go first,” Rob said. “There’s no light at all. The switch didn’t work for some reason. I’ll find the emergency light.” Matt and I descended the stairs, following him. The garage was pitch dark. I smelled engine oil and gunshot residue as I clung to the handrail to keep my balance.

  “Stay put while I find the switch,” Rob said.

  He moved quietly along the side wall. I heard a click and a large battery-operated emergency light came on. It was bright but didn’t illuminate the entire area.

  A figure in black pants and a black hooded sweatshirt lay on the floor between Rob’s and David’s cars. A small pool of blood had formed under the intruder’s head. I turned and saw that Brooke

  had followed us. She looked terrified. I moved toward the figure on

  the floor very slowly. A lock of fair hair had slipped out of the hood.

  “Rob,” I called. “You need to come here.”

  Rob had backed up until he was against the stairway and could go no further. He gathered his courage and slowly approached. He knelt next to me as I pulled the hood back, revealing Moira’s face. Brooke screamed.

  Rob jumped backward. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh my God. No!”

  Mary had followed Brooke down and now clung to the railing at the bottom of the stairway. Her face had turned ghastly w
hite. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp. Matt saw what was happening and rushed to her side, holding her upright.

  Brooke screamed. “It’s Moira, Rob. You’ve shot Moira!”

  Was I imagining it, or did Moira’s lips move? The pool of blood oozed slowly over the concrete floor. I leaned closer and whispered. “The ambulance is on its way, Moira. Hold on.”

  Rob cried, “I’ll get a blanket.” He grabbed a rough blanket hanging on a peg and rushed over, covering Moira quickly. Matt ran upstairs and returned carrying several towels. I pressed one to the back of Moira’s head, afraid it was already too late. Brooke was making a sound deep in her throat that threatened to become a scream. Rob had sunk to the floor, his back against a car door.

  We heard sirens in the distance. Rob leapt up, hurried to the garage control, and pressed in his code. Nothing happened. “Damn! There’s no electricity to the door. Wait. There’s a release here. I’ll get it open.”

  Matt called out, “I’ll check the fuse box.” We heard a squeak as he cracked the metal box open. He fiddled with the fuses. “One’s loose.”

  Rob found the release and pushed the garage door open just as the power came on. The entire garage was now brilliantly lit. Outside on the curb, the flashing lights of a patrol car and an ambulance throbbed blood-red against the night. Two patrolmen emerged from their car and walked slowly toward the garage opening. Rob stopped in his tracks as the patrolmen approached.

  “Sir, can you tell me what happened?”

  “I … I shot her.” Tears were streaming down Rob’s face. “It was an accident … I mean … I thought someone was trying to break in … I came down to the garage. I heard whispering. There was someone else here.”

  “Where’s the weapon now, sir? Can you tell me where you left it?”

  “Yes. Yes. It’s …” Rob moved slowly, a naked look of confusion on his face. “It’s my Glock. I dropped it on the floor … over here.” He walked toward the gun lying on the concrete and reached for it.

  “Sir, don’t touch that. Leave it right where it is.” The officer turned and gave a signal to the two paramedics standing at a safe distance. They rushed in with their equipment.

  Brooke turned to Matt. “Take my mother upstairs. Please, Matt. She shouldn’t be here.”

  I stepped back and watched as the two men knelt next to Moira. One of them swore under his breath. There was no need for questions. The position of the body, the blood, and the acrid smell still lingered. They started an IV in one of Moira’s arms and, placing her on a board, rushed her to the waiting van.

  Brooke followed them, tears streaking her face. “Where are you taking her?”

  His eyes never leaving his charge, the paramedic replied, “Mount Sinai. It’s close and they’re better equipped for gunshot wounds.”

  “I’m going with you,” Brooke announced.

  “Right now, lady. It’s load and go. There’s no time to waste,” he replied.

  Tying her robe tightly around her waist, Brooke clambered into the back with the second paramedic.

  “Brooke!” Rob stepped forward. “I’ll meet you there.”

  She turned back to him. “No. Stay here. Make sure Ashley doesn’t wake up.”

  One of the officers took Rob carefully by the arm and turned him toward the stairway to the house. “You’ll have to stay here for the time being, sir. The detectives are on the way now. They’ll want to talk to you.”

  Andy stood by the stairway. I hadn’t seen him arrive. His face was drained of color. He stepped back as Rob and his escort climbed the stairway to the foyer. The other officer stood in the opening to the garage, the night still dark behind him. Two shadows moved on the street, perhaps curious neighbors who’d been wakened by the sirens.

  “Please follow the others,” the second officer said to me and Andy.

  “Shouldn’t we shut the garage door?” Andy asked.

  I thought Andy seemed remarkably calm under the circumstances. Or maybe he was in shock and wasn’t able to take everything in.

  “No, sir. The detectives will want to see this when they arrive. They’ll be here very soon.”

  Andy nodded and started toward the stairway. He stopped and stared at me. “Julia,” he said, looking at my robe and slippers. “I think you better take those off.”

  I looked down at the robe I’d borrowed from Brooke. Large spots of blood stained the hem where I’d knelt on the floor. My slippers had left dark tracks on the floor.

  “Oh God.” I started to cry. I felt as if I hadn’t taken a breath since I heard the gunshots. I untied the robe and Andy lifted it away from my shoulders. I kicked off the bloodied slippers and left them in a small pile with the robe on the concrete. Could they be cleaned? Would Brooke even want to see them again? My mind was occupied with the trivia of what a good houseguest should do in such a situation. For some reason, my pajamas were clean, and at least I was clothed. I shivered violently and followed Andy upstairs.

  Andy slipped out of his jacket. “You’re cold. Put this over your shoulders.”

  “Thanks.”

  He dropped his jacket around me. “Moira’s tough,” he said. “She’ll pull through. Everything will be okay.”

  I looked up at him, still unable to speak. I doubted anything would ever again be okay.

  six

  The front door flew open as we entered the foyer. Dan Leary stood in the doorway, his face mottled with red blotches. Andy and I came to a halt and watched as Dan marched through the foyer to the living room. Rob was seated in a chair, his head in his hands. Mary looked up at Dan as he entered the room. She was silent, her face drained of color.

  “You bastard. You shot her. You shot my sister.” Dan lunged toward the chair, but before he could reach Rob, the lone patrolman stepped in his way and, with a deft movement, twisted Dan around and pinned him to the wall.

  “That’ll be enough of that or I’ll cuff you and bring you in.”

  Dan’s body went limp.

  “You gonna stay calm now?”

  “I’m okay. I’m okay. Get offa me, please.”

  The officer stepped back and Dan turned, shooting a hateful glare at Rob. It was then that he noticed his mother sitting on the couch next to Matt. “Mom. Are you all right?”

  Mary nodded, her body hunched in pain. Dan glanced at the patrolman and hurried to his mother.

  She tried to stand. “I need to go upstairs,” she said. “I want to make sure Ashley’s still sleeping.” Ashley’s room was on the third floor and we all hoped the gunshots hadn’t woken her.

  Matt volunteered. “I’ll go check on her, Mary. She might not have heard a thing up there.”

  Dan asked, “Where did they take Moira? Where’s Brooke?”

  Andy spoke up. “Mount Sinai. Brooke went with her in the ambulance.”

  Dan knelt next to his mother. “Mom, I’m going over there now to be with them. I’ll call you in a little while, okay?” Mary shuddered and nodded in return.

  “I should have gone with them.” Andy’s hands were shaking. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  I slipped Andy’s jacket off my shoulders and passed it back to him. “How did Dan find out about this?”

  “I called him,” Andy replied. “I thought he should know right away.”

  The officer stepped forward. “Both of you. Take a seat. No one’s going anywhere right now.”

  Andy halted but Dan ignored the order and hurried to the front door. “Like hell. Don’t even try to stop me.” He slammed the door behind him before the officer could reach him.

  Rob was still sitting, his head down, running his hands through his hair. He rocked back and forth, murmuring to himself. Cassie trotted into the living room and laid her head on Rob’s knee. Her paws left a trail of muddy prints on the carpet. Rob reached out and patted her head absentminde
dly.

  We waited together in the living room, silent and in shock. Matt returned and joined Mary on the sofa, telling her that Ashley was fine and still asleep. Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. I walked back to the foyer and opened the front door to two men in street clothes. They followed me into the living room. The slender, dark man with a wolf-like face was in charge. He wore an expensively tailored suit and patent leather shoes. He held up his badge as he entered the room.

  “I’m Detective Paolo Ianello. I’m very sorry to inform you that we’ve just spoken with Mount Sinai Emergency. Ms. Leary was pronounced dead on arrival.”

  Mary cried out. “No, not her. Not my baby.”

  seven

  By the time the police left, taking Rob with them, the sun had risen behind a gunmetal gray sky. Rob had been allowed to change into street clothes under the watchful eyes of the police, while the detectives and their team took measurements and photos, bagged Rob’s gun, and searched the house and garage.

  Brooke and Dan returned to the house just as Rob was being led away. There was an exchange between husband and wife in the foyer that I couldn’t hear. Dan stood silently to the side, his eyes downcast as Rob left with the police.

  Mary had fallen into an exhausted sleep, leaning against the side of the sofa. Brooke, still in her robe, approached and sat next to her, taking her mother in her arms. “Let’s go upstairs, Mom. We’re going to lie down and I’ll have you take a sleeping pill, okay? You need your rest. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  “No dear. I don’t want to sleep.”

  “I know, but you have to. It’s the best thing. I’ll be right here in the house with you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you alone.” She looked at me. “Can you help me, Julia?”

  Together we led Mary up the stairs. I could feel the small bones of her rib cage as I put my arm around her. She’d become so much more frail in the past few hours. We led her to her guest room and I smoothed out the bed while Brooke removed her mother’s robe and slippers.