Woman With a Gun_A Novel

by Phillip Margolin

  “It is a little surprising.”

  “I would love to interview Kathy Moran and Megan Cahill,” Stacey said wistfully.

  “Ms. Kim, your timing could not be better,” Glen said, breaking into a grin. “I was going to save this for later but since you brought it up . . .”

  “Save what for later?”

  “Kathy’s exhibit is going to move to the Portland Art Museum now that its run at MoMA is over, but Kathy insisted that a local gallery here in Palisades Heights get the opportunity to show her work for a week in between. The exhibit is opening at Ellen Devereaux’s gallery tomorrow, and Kathy Moran and Megan Cahill are the guests of honor.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  Stacey’s energy delighted Glen. “I’m glad I could make your day.”

  “You’ve just made my century.” Then Stacey sobered. “Do you think they’ll talk to me? I’d love to get inside the Cahill house to see what it looks like.”

  “You’ll have to ask Megan. As for Kathy, she’s been a bit of a recluse. She was a real celebrity for a while and her career took off. But she crashed when she started using drugs. She almost died from an overdose. When she got out of rehab she moved back to Palisades Heights, and she pretty much keeps to herself.

  “From what I hear, the people at MoMA wanted her to be at the opening in New York but she wouldn’t go. There was an article in the Gazette that said she had no involvement in the exhibit at all except for giving her permission to MoMA to show her work.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “Not well. But you can turn on your charm at the gallery and see what happens.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You can use my name for a character in your novel when it’s published.”

  “Deal,” Stacey said as she held out her hand.

  Glen shook and Stacey held his hand a moment more than was necessary. She noticed that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and wondered if he was seeing anyone. She didn’t remember any pictures of Glen with a woman in his office. Then she chided herself for being silly for thinking about a relationship when she wasn’t going to be in Palisades Heights, or Oregon for that matter, for very long. Still, she was curious.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Ellen Devereaux’s gallery occupied a large space on the corner of Ocean Avenue and Third Street. When Stacey and Glen arrived, a crowd was milling around on the sidewalk and the interior of the gallery was packed. Some people clustered in groups, talking and nibbling on hors d’oeuvres. Others walked around the gallery, sipping wine while they looked at the exhibit. Stacey squeezed inside and scanned the crowd for Kathy Moran or Megan Cahill, but she didn’t see them.

  “Do you want some wine?” Glen asked.

  “Thanks, red, please.”

  “I’ll see if they’re pouring some of our famous Oregon pinots and I’ll be right back.”

  Glen headed for the bar Devereaux had set up along the rear wall just as Jack Booth entered the gallery.

  “Mr. Booth.”

  Jack looked surprised.

  “Good evening, Stacey.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see the exhibit. Other than Woman with a Gun, I’ve only seen a few of Kathy’s photographs. I assume you’re here doing research.”

  “I am. I’m with Glen Kraft. He’s let me set up in his office and he’s given me his files on the Cahill case. Do you remember him?”

  “Sure. He was Henry Baker’s associate when I was investigating Cahill.”

  “He’s his partner now.”

  “I know. We were on opposite sides of a case two or three years ago,” Booth said just as Glen walked up with two glasses of wine.

  “Jack,” Glen said as he handed a glass to Stacey. “It’s good seeing you again. What brings you to Palisades Heights?”

  “I was just explaining to Stacey that I haven’t seen a lot of Kathy Moran’s work. An article in the Oregonian said that the exhibit was showing here before it moved to the Portland Art Museum. I have a lengthy trial that’s supposed to start the day the exhibit moves. If the case doesn’t settle this will be my only chance to catch Kathy’s show.”

  “You’re going to enjoy it,” Stacey said. “Ms. Moran is a terrific photographer.”

  “It was nice bumping into you two,” Jack said. “I’m going to grab a glass of wine before I look at Kathy’s photographs.”

  Stacey watched Booth stop on his way to the bar to say hello to a tall, muscular man with salt-and-pepper hair he wore in a Marine cut.

  “Is that George Melendez?” Stacey asked.

  “Yeah, he’s still our police chief and he still does a great job.”

  “Is Teddy Winston still the DA?”

  “No, he’s a judge. Gayle Sutcliff is the DA now. Shall we?”

  The photographs were mounted on the walls of the gallery. All of the pictures Stacey had seen in New York were on display, along with several photographs from Ellen Devereaux’s private collection of Kathy Moran’s work.

  “Life is funny,” Stacey mused when they had seen the entire exhibit.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Think about it. If Raymond Cahill hadn’t been murdered, Kathy Moran would probably be an unknown artist showing her work in a couple of West Coast galleries.”

  “Too true,” Glen agreed just as Ellen Devereaux shouted to get the room’s attention.

  Stacey sized up Devereaux as a vigorous woman somewhere in her fifties. Her curly brown hair had gone mostly gray but her blue eyes had lost none of their luster.

  “Thank you for coming to honor a local artist who has achieved international fame,” Devereaux said when she had everyone’s attention. “Ten years ago a terrible tragedy occurred on the evening Raymond Cahill married Megan Cahill at the Palisades Heights Country Club. When the newlyweds returned to their home a burglar murdered the new groom.

  “Now there is no way to put a good spin on an event that awful, but a great work of art was produced because of that tragedy. Kathy Moran was wandering along the beach after midnight, looking for scenes to shoot for a one-woman show she was organizing for this gallery when she saw Megan Cahill standing at the edge of the sea. The haunting photograph she took became a cause célèbre and Kathy’s talent was validated when Woman with a Gun was awarded a Pulitzer Prize.

  “The exhibit you are viewing tonight was recently shown at the Museum of Modern Art in New York to commemorate the tenth anniversary of Kathy’s Pulitzer and it will be displayed at the Portland Art Museum. But Kathy insisted that the citizens of her adopted town get a chance to see Woman with a Gun and her other exceptional work in this limited engagement.

  “Kathy has been out of town, taking photographs in Zion National Park in Utah, but she came back to Palisades Heights this morning. So, it is with great pleasure that I introduce a master photographer and the subject of her greatest work, Kathy Moran and Megan Cahill.”

  Kathy and Megan walked out of Devereaux’s office, and the crowd in the gallery burst into applause. Kathy stood next to Devereaux and waited for the applause to die down. Stacey thought that Moran was still beautiful, but she was definitely showing the ravages of a life lived hard. And, as Glen had said, Megan Cahill still looked like she could star in a movie based on Stacey’s novel.

  “Ellen Devereaux supported me and my work when I was a complete unknown. She has always believed in me, and this exhibition is my way of thanking her for the trust she put in me. I want to thank every one of you for coming to support me and Ellen’s wonderful gallery, and I am especially grateful to Megan Cahill for traveling from California to be here tonight.”

  The crowd applauded Megan, who blushed and looked down for a moment before stepping forward.

  “It took me a while to decide if I was going to come to Palisades Heights for this exhibition. For obvious reasons, Kathy’s photograph, which has amazed so many people, brings back very dark memories for me. But I decided to come because Woman with
a Gun proves that good can come out of the most terrible circumstances. I arrived only a short time ago and I will have my first chance to view the exhibit at the same time you are seeing Kathy’s amazing photographs. I believe we’re all in for a treat.”

  “And now,” Ellen Devereaux said, “please enjoy the wonderful photography of Kathy Moran.”

  Most of the crowd flowed toward the exhibition, the table with the food, or the bar, but some guests moved in to talk to Devereaux, Kathy Moran, and Megan Cahill.

  “Go ahead,” Glen urged Stacey. “This is your chance.”

  Stacey gathered her nerve and hovered on the fringe of the crowd around the guests of honor. When the crowd around Megan Cahill thinned, Stacey moved in.

  “Mrs. Cahill, my name is Stacey Kim and I’m in Palisades Heights doing research for a novel that was inspired by Woman with a Gun. I know you’re very busy now but I’m staying in Palisades Heights for a few days and I’d be very grateful if you could spare some time to meet with me. I’ll meet anytime that’s convenient for you.”

  Megan seemed annoyed. “I don’t like to think about what happened on my wedding night.”

  “I appreciate that, but it’s not a true crime story, so this would just be for background. It would mean so much to me.”

  Megan looked over Stacey’s shoulder, saw someone approaching, and made a quick decision.

  “Do you know where I live when I’m in Palisades Heights?” Megan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Come over tomorrow morning around ten and we can talk.”

  “Thank you,” Stacey said. “I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”

  Megan flashed an impatient smile. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Stacey could tell that Megan wanted to end the conversation so she backed away and almost ran into a solidly built older man who was standing behind her.

  “What are you doing here, Kevin?” Stacey heard Megan say.

  “Trying to talk to you. You’ve been avoiding me, and this was the only place I knew I could find you.”

  Stacey turned around to see if Kathy Moran was free but she was talking to Jack Booth. As Stacey walked back to Glen, she wondered if Booth was in Palisades Heights to see Kathy Moran’s photographs or Kathy Moran.

  “Guess what!” Stacey said excitedly.

  “Megan is going to let you interview her.”

  “Yes! At her house, so I’ll get to see the scene of the crime. I’m going over tomorrow morning.”

  Kevin Mercer and Megan Cahill had moved to a corner of the gallery near the far end of the exhibit. Mercer stood with his back to several of the photographs. He was gesturing angrily and Megan was shaking her head. Then a big man hobbled up and stood next to Mercer. The man was using a cane and the left side of his face was twisted, indicating that he had been the victim of a stroke. Glen saw the man, too.

  “That’s Henry,” Kraft said. He sounded surprised.

  “Your partner?” Stacey asked.

  “Yes.”

  Megan turned toward Baker and stared at him. Then her hand flew to her mouth and she wheeled away and ran out of the gallery.

  “Megan,” Mercer yelled after her. Megan didn’t slow down.

  Stacey saw Kathy Moran and Jack Booth turn toward the fleeing woman. Then Kathy walked over to Mercer with Booth a few steps behind her. She stopped in the space Megan had just vacated.

  “What did you say to her?” Kathy demanded.

  “Nothing. I have no idea what caused Megan to run off.”

  “You must have done something.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what brought that on. Henry walked up and Megan got this terrified look on her face. Then she ran out.”

  Kathy turned to Henry Baker. “Do you know why Megan ran?” she asked.

  Baker shook his head. “I just wanted to say hello.” His words were slurred and it took an effort for him to speak.

  Kathy started to say something but she stopped and frowned. Then she looked angry again.

  “Thanks for fucking up the opening, Kevin.”

  Kathy turned on her heel and walked off with Jack Booth in tow before Mercer could respond.

  “That was really strange,” Glen said to Stacey.

  “What?” Stacey asked. She’d been watching Jack Booth and Kathy Moran walk off and she hadn’t heard what Glen had said.

  “The way Megan ran off,” Glen said. “I thought it was strange.”

  “No kidding,” Stacey agreed. Then she frowned. “I want to ask Miss Moran if I can interview her, but I don’t think this is the right time. Do you know Ellen Devereaux well enough to ask her to act as an intermediary?”

  “Actually, I do. Our firm’s done some legal work for her. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Glen. You’re definitely going to be a character in the book, an important one!”

  Glen laughed. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Henry.”

  Glen led Stacey across the room.

  “How are you doing, Henry?”

  Baker pivoted on his cane and turned toward Glen.

  “I thought the doctors didn’t want you taxing yourself,” Glen asked with concern.

  “They don’t but I didn’t want to miss the exhibit, and I heard Megan was going to be here. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

  “Do you want me to get you a chair? Are you okay?”

  “Stop fussing. Helen Dooley, my neighbor, drove me over.” Henry pointed his cane at a middle-aged woman who was looking at the photos at the end of the room near the door. “She’s going to take me home when I’ve seen the exhibit. Now introduce me to your friend.”

  “Sorry. Henry, this is Stacey Kim. I told you she was going to come here to do some research.”

  “You’re writing a novel that’s a fictional version of the Cahill case, right?” Baker said.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a book I’ll have to read. Have you figured out who killed Ray and Parnell Crouse yet?”

  “No, but I’m not trying to solve the case. I’m just using the facts as a skeleton for my book.”

  “Too bad. I’d sure like to know whodunit.”

  “I told her solving the case would be great publicity,” Glen said.

  “That it would. Some pretty smart people have tried to get a handle on what happened and no one has succeeded so far.”

  “I thought Crouse killed Raymond Cahill,” Stacey said.

  “Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t. What if Crouse was completely innocent and the real killer set him up and planted that coin so it would look like Crouse was in on the robbery?”

  Stacey thought about that possibility. Then she frowned. “If Crouse wasn’t at the Cahills’ house, Megan Cahill lied when she said he was the robber.”

  “That would be the conclusion you would have to draw,” Baker agreed. “And she was holding the murder weapon when Kathy found her on the beach.”

  “You think Megan murdered her husband?” Stacey asked.

  “No. I believe her story. I was just trying to help you plot your book.”

  “Oh.”

  Baker tried to smile but his attempt to twist his lips just made him look more grotesque.

  “It was nice meeting you, Miss Kim. I’m getting tired so I want to look at Kathy’s photographs while I still have the energy. Let Glen know if you want to pick my brain.”

  Baker limped over to the photographs and Glen looked at his watch.

  “It’s still early. Do you want to grab a bite to eat or a drink?”

  Spending more time with Glen sounded way more appealing than returning to her motel room.

  “Sure. I didn’t get a chance to eat any of the hors d’oeuvres and I’m starving.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “What do you think that was all about?” Jack asked Kathy moments after Megan Cahill ran out of the gallery.

  “Megan and I had dinner this evening. She told me that she and Kevin are in the middle of a drawn-out a
nd nasty divorce, so I assume it has something to do with that.”

  “So, how have you been?” Jack asked.

  “Great, actually. I’ve never stopped taking photographs, but my career has been in the doldrums for a while, what with the drugs and my self-imposed exile in Palisades Heights after rehab. Then MoMA announced the exhibit and I’m suddenly hot again.”

  “So you’re back exhibiting?”

  “I’ve got shows in New York and L.A., and there’s a gallery in Seattle that wants to talk about an exhibit. Plus I’ve had offers for commercial shoots.”

  “That’s great.”

  Jack looked around. There had been a momentary lull when Megan raced out of the gallery but everything seemed to be back to the way it had been before the argument.

  “I don’t think their spat affected the mood of the crowd. Everyone looks pretty happy.”

  “Why are you here, Jack?”

  “My, you’re blunt.”

  Kathy didn’t respond.

  “It’s Stacey Kim’s fault,” Jack said with a grin.

  “Who?”

  Jack gestured toward Stacey. “The woman talking to Glen Kraft is writing a novel inspired by your photograph. She interviewed me in Portland about the Cahill case and I suspect she’ll ask you to sit down with her. You should do it. She’s a good kid, very enthusiastic. It would be a good deed.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  Jack shrugged. “Reliving the Cahill case made me think about you. Then I saw an article about the exhibit moving from New York to the Portland Art Museum with a brief stop in Palisades Heights. I thought it would be nice to see you again.”

  Kathy smiled but she looked sad. “I know you wanted something to develop between us, Jack, and there was a time when that might have happened. But I’m really not interested in any kind of relationship at this point in my life. So I’m glad to see you, but if you came to Palisades Heights because of me, you shouldn’t have.”

  Jack didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “That’s fair,” he said. “Thanks for being up-front.”

  Kathy reached out and touched Jack’s cheek. “You’re a good guy and I’m flattered that you still harbor romantic feelings for me. At my age that’s a real ego boost. I’ve got to go mingle now. I hope you enjoy my photographs.”