Poppy Harmon and the Hung Jury

by Lee Hollis

Poppy had spent much of the day restoring the two-bedroom apartment to exactly how Heather had left it so she would feel as if she was coming home to her own place and not her mother’s. Poppy had hoped they could spend Heather’s first night together cooking and drinking wine and making a plan for Heather to get her life back on track again, but it wasn’t meant to be. Heather was lethargic and tired and excused herself to go take a nap. That had been five hours ago. It was now past eleven at night, and Poppy had made herself a sandwich and sat down at her computer to keep herself busy. She realized Heather probably was not going to wake up until the morning, so Poppy used the time to do a little research on Tony Molina’s wife, Tofu.

  A Google search brought up pages and pages of press interviews and fan Web sites and endless beauty shots and glamorous red carpet photos from the past thirty years, most of them dating back to before she had married Tony. Poppy assumed that Tony probably was not too keen on his wife working much after they got married. Those Italian superstars could be pretty chauvinistic, possessive, and controlling, which was why Frank Sinatra had divorced Mia Farrow in the 1960s after she refused to quit the

  Roman Polanski classic Rosemary’s Baby to spend more time at home with Frank. Sinatra was Tony Molina’s hero so it was more than likely that he modeled his behavior after him.

  As Poppy scrolled through the countless articles on Tofu, she happened upon a short People magazine profile from around the time she released her biggest hit song, the one that had been used as the theme song for a James Bond movie. She was skimming the article when something popped out at her. The reporter had asked her if she always knew she wanted to be a star and Tofu answered, “From the time I was a little girl, growing up in Abiline, Texas, I knew I was destined for greater things, and so the day I turned eighteen, I was on a bus out west with sixty dollars in my pocket and the phone number of a distant cousin who was a set decorator for soap operas. He was willing to take me in for a few months until I got on my feet.”

  Abilene, Texas.

  The same town where Alden Kenny grew up.

  And Tofu had somehow known that.

  In Poppy’s mind, that was just too much of a coincidence.

  There had to be almost a thirty-year age difference between Tofu and Alden.

  But it was at least something to finally go on.

  Poppy went to bed in the guest room, but the mattress was lumpy and unfamiliar and she didn’t get a wink of sleep. Finally, she rose at five in the morning, showered, dressed, made some coffee, and watched the news. She waited for Heather to finally rise from the dead, but when she still hadn’t stirred by eight-thirty, Poppy scribbled a note to call her and she left for the Desert Flowers garage office at Iris’s house. She had no intention of waking Heather up. The poor thing probably hadn’t had a decent night’s rest in over a year. She deserved to sleep in for as long as she desired.

  Violet was already at the office when Poppy arrived, sweeping and dusting and polishing. Violet was a bit of a neat freak, which was just fine with Poppy, who despised all housework.

  “Is Iris still in the house?” Poppy asked.

  “No, she had an early golf game this morning at the club,” Violet said.

  Poppy frowned. She was anxious to sit down with everyone and rally them to help her look into the Alden Kenny case now that Rod no longer needed or wanted their services. When Poppy brought Violet up to speed on the Abilene connection between Alden and Tofu, Violet excitedly scurried over to the desktop computer.

  “Wyatt had me buy this new computer program for the office that he said would help us with our cases!” Violet gushed. “It sounds so high tech! It’s some kind of a facial recognition program!”

  “How much did that set us back?” Poppy asked, not sure she wanted to know.

  “Three hundred dollars,” Violet said. Sensing Poppy bristling, she quickly added, “Not to worry. It was my treat!”

  Violet put on her reading glasses, fired up the computer, and clicked on the program, which was in the center of the desktop display. “Wyatt’s been teaching me how to use it. I’m not very good at it yet, but I’m getting there.”

  It took forty minutes for Violet to figure out how to upload a photo, but eventually she managed to attach a recent picture of Tofu. Then it took another hour and fifteen minutes for her to figure out how to actually run the program. But after a lot of false starts and enough time for Poppy to go out for some Danish at Starbucks and return before Violet got it working, they finally hit pay dirt. The Abilene High School had put digital versions of all its yearbooks dating back to the early 1970s online, so running the current photo of Tofu against all the photos on the Abilene High Web site finally resulted in a match.

  “Oh goodness, Poppy, I think I did it!” Violet cried.

  Poppy tossed her Danish down on the little kitchenette counter and rushed over to Violet and hovered over her. Next to the recent picture of Tofu was a black-and-white photo of a pretty young girl with her hair in a barrette and a full smile with a mouthful of crooked teeth. She wasn’t nearly as attractive as her adult self.

  “Her name is Maria Martinez and she graduated Abilene High in nineteen seventy-nine.”

  “She must have gotten braces in college!” Poppy declared.

  “Alden Kenny graduated in twenty twelve,” Violet noted, bringing up his photo. “He looks exactly the same way as he did in the photo that was in the newspaper.”

  “I wonder if he knew that Tony Molina’s wife went to the same high school as he did,” Poppy said. “That is a really big coincidence, right?”

  Violet nodded. “But it could just be a coincidence.”

  Poppy wasn’t buying it.

  She felt there had to be more to it, especially since Tofu automatically knew Alden was from Abilene when it had never been mentioned in the press. Where had she gotten that information? Or was she aware of it because she already knew Alden Kenny before her husband’s trial?

  The opportunity to find the answer literally burst through the door at that very moment.

  Iris was back from her golf game. She was in a buoyant mood and practically bouncing off the walls from the moment she entered the office. Iris was never one to wear her emotions on her sleeve, so Poppy assumed she had just come from an extraordinarily successful golf game.

  “A hole in one!” Iris boasted. “I could not believe it myself! You should have seen the looks on the other ladies’ faces!”

  “Congratulations, Iris! I’m so happy for you! Violet and I have had a successful morning, too. Violet bought this facial recognition program and—”

  “May I please relish in my victory for just a few more moments, if you don’t mind?” Iris scoffed.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that Violet and I are working on a case—”

  “What case? We were just fired from our one and only case!” Iris wailed.

  “I’m talking about Alden Kenny,” Poppy tried to explain. “And for the record, we were not fired!”

  “Who is the client? You? Are you paying us? And how much did this facial recognition contraption cost us?” Iris asked.

  “Five hundred dollars,” Violet said.

  Poppy twisted her head around and stared at Violet. “You said three hundred!”

  “I know, I shaved off a couple hundred because I didn’t want you getting mad that I spent that much until you saw how helpful it could be,” Violet said sheepishly. “But now you see how valuable it is. We found Tofu!”

  Poppy had to agree. “It’s really a wonderful program. We were able to match a photo of Tofu taken recently with one—”

  “I don’t care!” Iris said. “I was out on the golf course—”

  “Hitting a hole in one, we know,” Poppy muttered.

  “It was a masterful stroke, once in a lifetime, but do you think I was out there just having fun? No, while you two were here playing computer games, I was out there getting us invited to Dena Cantwell’s cocktail party tomorrow.”

  “I’m not su
re I’m up for socializing right now, Iris,” Poppy said.

  “Who said anything about socializing? Do you know who Dena Cantwell is?” Iris asked pointedly, folding her arms, annoyed.

  “I’ve heard of her!” Violet said, shooting her hand in the air. “She’s very rich and she gives millions of dollars to the arts and is the center of the Palm Springs social scene.”

  “She is also friends with Tony Molina and his wife, Tenderloin or Turmeric or whatever her name is,” Iris said.

  “Tofu,” Violet said with a helpful smile.

  Iris threw her hands up, losing patience. “Whatever! Who cares! Whenever Tony is in town, he always makes a point of attending Dena’s cocktail parties. And so after I whipped Dena’s butt on the golf course this morning, and she saw firsthand what a superior golfer I am, especially after scoring a hole in one, if I forgot to mention that, and after shaming her in front of all her friends by mentioning how she has never invited me to one of her fancy parties—”

  “She invited you,” Poppy said, nodding.

  “Yes, under duress. Her rich, snooty friends practically demanded it after I scored that hole in one! I’m a legend at that club now! I told her I would be happy to attend, and I would be bringing a few friends along with me. She didn’t dare say no. So now you can pump Tony and his wife all you want about this Alden Kenny kid.”

  “Iris, I don’t know what to say,” Poppy said, moving forward to hug her.

  Iris backed away. “I am not big into hugs, Poppy.”

  “Right. I forgot,” Poppy said, backing off.

  “But I am open to your praise,” Iris said.

  “And you are the best investigator at Desert Flowers. Going out there and snagging us party invitations to help us get answers to the Alden Kenny murder,” Poppy said.

  “Actually I wasn’t thinking about that at the time. I just wanted to be invited to one of Dena Cantwell’s parties, but I guess it all worked out for the best. What about you, Violet? What nice things do you have to say about me?”

  “Gosh, I’ve never really done well under pressure,” Violet said.

  “I scored a hole in one, Violet. Does that help you?” Iris huffed.

  Violet nodded and quickly piped in, “You are the best golfer in the world, Iris! You could win the Dinah Shore tournament if you wanted to next year!”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your kind words,” Iris said.

  Poppy was more than happy to indulge her.

  Because she was about to be in the same room as Tony Molina and his wife, Tofu, again, as well as many of their friends, who knew a lot more about them.

  And she was certain chances were good that somebody at that cocktail party would have direct knowledge as to why Alden Kenny ended up floating facedown dead in his swimming pool.

  Chapter 28

  Dena Cantwell’s cocktail party was held at her palatial home located in the Thunderbird Country Club in Rancho Mirage, the same exclusive gated community where former President Gerald Ford and his wife, Betty, once resided. According to Iris, Dena made her money from her family’s worldwide liquor distribution business as well as her late husband’s real estate investments. Iris, who was from far more modest means, still captured the attention of the partygoers as word of her astounding hole in one the day before spread far and wide. Iris, of course, basked in all the glory, as she recounted the fateful moment when she realized her golf ball that was racing across the green after her perfect swing was destined to drop in that tiny hole and make history.

  Poppy, who huddled with Violet and Matt in a corner, kept scanning the crowd for Tony and Tofu Molina, but they still had not arrived. Poppy was starting to fear they might be no-shows, but finally, just as she was about to give up hope, the front door swung open, and Tony, looking rested and happy, breezed in with his wife, Tofu, on his arm. Tony glad-handed a few buddies by the bar as Tofu floated over to Dena to alert her that they had finally arrived, giving the hostess an air kiss on both cheeks.

  Poppy dispatched Matt to mingle with the other guests, and Violet headed toward the bar while Poppy casually made her way toward Tony. If she had any apprehension that he might not remember her from the trial and the restaurant, that worry was quickly dispelled when his eyes fell upon her and he immediately lit up with a bright smile.

  “Well, if it isn’t the lovely Poppy Harmon,” Tony said, excusing himself from his rat pack at the bar. “Why do we keep running into each other like this? Is someone trying to tell us something?”

  Poppy smiled demurely. “We do seem to run in the same circles.”

  “How do you know Dena?”

  “I don’t. I came with a friend.”

  Tony waved Dena over to them. She was an elegant show horse, preening and proud and immaculately put together. She eyed Poppy warily and said as she extended a bony arm, “Hello, I’m Dena.”

  “This is Poppy Harmon,” Tony said, speaking for her. “She was a juror at my trial.”

  “Oh!” Dena exclaimed. “Well, we are very grateful you didn’t send our poor Tony to the big house. He would have struggled mightily without his afternoon golf game and nineteenth-hole dry martini.”

  Poppy refrained from mentioning that if it had been up to her she would have sent him straight to the big house for a long time.

  So did Tony.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Dena,” Poppy said, shaking her hand.

  Dena studied her intently, trying to figure out just what she was doing here. “I’m so happy you could come.”

  Poppy decided to help her out. “I am a friend of Iris Becker’s. Part of her plus-three.”

  Dena lit up and smiled. “Iris is the big hero at the club! She’s certainly got a lot of tongues wagging around here.” She turned to Tony. “The hole in one I was telling you about.”

  Tony nodded. “Our resident Tiger Woods.”

  “If Tiger were an outspoken, imposing German woman in her sixties,” Poppy added.

  Dena and Tony both laughed.

  “Well, make yourself at home, Poppy, and help yourself to a drink at the bar. Tony, there is someone I want you to meet,” Dena said, steering Tony away.

  Poppy turned to see Tofu at the bar, sucking down a cosmo, glaring at her. She wondered if Tofu had signaled Dena to get her husband away from Poppy. But then, Tofu turned her attention toward the handsome young bartender, who mixed her another drink as she flirted with him, giggling and playfully touching his arm.

  Poppy walked over to Matt, who was charming a gaggle of older women near some expensive-looking art deco pieces, and whispered in his ear, “She’s by the bar.”

  Matt nodded and whispered back, “I’m going in.” Then he turned and flashed that megawatt smile that he had been blessed with at his bevy of admirers, who had been hanging on his every word. “Excuse me, ladies.”

  They practically sighed with disappointment as he scooted off to find Tofu. Poppy wandered over to Violet, who was standing alone in a corner, nursing a glass of white wine. “Why are you hiding all the way over here?”

  “This is not exactly my crowd,” Violet said. “Too rich for my blood. I wouldn’t know what to say to these people.”

  “How about ‘Hi, my name is Violet,’ ” Poppy suggested.

  “I’m much more comfortable over here away from everybody, you know, keeping an eye on things. Let me tell you, that Tofu gal is quite the operator. In the time it’s taken me to drink half a glass of Pinot Grigio, she’s tried picking up three different men.”

  Poppy glanced over at the bar, where Tofu had just abandoned her efforts to snag the bartender and was now laser focused on Matt, who was no doubt reeling her in with his unbridled charm. Poppy scanned the crowd for Tony, to make sure he was preoccupied and not about to have a jealous fit if he saw the handsome young actor captivating his wife, but luckily he was still chatting with Dena and a couple of her super-rich friends.

  “Tofu obviously has an attraction to much younger men,” Violet said, trying not to ooze j
udgment but ultimately failing. “Just what do you hope to accomplish here, Poppy? Besides helping boost Iris’s ego, not that she needs it!”

  Iris was still reliving her defining moment on the golf course, surrounded by a half-dozen fans in the center of the room, without a thought or care about why they had crashed Dena Cantwell’s cocktail party in the first place.

  “This is Tofu’s primary social circle. These people probably know her better than anyone. I’m betting someone here can tell us something about her predilection for young men, and if one of those men happened to be Alden Kenny.”

  “That sounds like a real long shot to me,” Violet said, looking around at the intimidating crowd, not eager to go talk to any of them.

  “It only takes one, Violet,” Poppy said. “Matt’s working on Tofu so why don’t you strike up a conversation with one of the guests.”

  “I wouldn’t know who to start with,” Violet protested.

  Poppy looked around and settled on an elderly woman with a hunched back and granny glasses, her white hair in a bun, sipping a glass of white wine. “Start with her. She likes white wine, too. That’s your icebreaker. I’m going to talk to a few of the men smoking cigars outside by the pool.”

  Violet sized the old woman up, decided she could handle her, and shuffled off toward her. Poppy glided out to the pool and spent the next twenty minutes chatting up a few of the men, who were more interested in talking investments and sports than about Tony Molina’s one-hit-wonder wife. Frustrated and bored, Poppy wandered back inside to see Tofu literally hanging off Matt as he entertained her with yet another story. Tony was still downing martinis with a couple of his buddies and was mercifully oblivious. Iris was nowhere to be seen although Poppy suspected she was now outside on the front lawn re-creating her now famous swing that led to that hole in one. And Violet was still immersed in conversation with the old woman who was fond of white wine. Finally, the two women hugged, and Violet excitedly bounded over to Poppy.

  “You were right! She was a fountain of information!” Violet cried.

  Poppy was taken aback.

  She hadn’t seriously expected Violet to get anywhere with the old woman. She just wanted to give her something to do so she wouldn’t feel bad about being a wallflower at the party. “What did she say?”