by Mary Deal
“He dug a hole?” Det. Vance asked, turning the rock over in her hand and then passing it to Det. de Giorgio.
“For the foundation,” Esmerelda said. She seemed awkward, having to explain her dead husband's wit about using fool's gold rocks instead of the usual river rock for the sub flooring.
“Why the tarp?” Det. de Giorgio asked.
“To keep the animals and blowing debris off the rock bed,” she said. “It's windy that time of year.”
Though they said they had scoured the cold case files, these detectives seemed not well versed in all aspects of the Talbot case.
“There was no reason for me to be home that weekend,” Esmerelda said. “Orson would be gone for two weeks, maybe three, while the concrete cured.” She had returned home late Sunday evening. On Monday, the concrete truck arrived before she was out of bed. It had already backed into place to pour.
“If I remember correctly,” Det. Vance said. “Your employees' alibis all checked out.”
“We had a lot of different people come and go. A couple of drifters, too, needed a few days wages before moving on,” Esmerelda said, shaking her head. “We didn't know a lot of them personally, but we treated them fairly.”
How could Esmerelda or Orson not have treated anyone well? It was the only way Esmerelda knew how to be. So who would harm a person like Orson?
“Both Tripp and Fredrik had alibis too,” Det. de Giorgio said.
They did. As usual, Fredrik spent all weekend at the hospice doing his job. Dozens of people vouched for him.
“Tripp's been our yard man for many years,” Esmerelda said. “During the week before Orson left, Tripp cleared a lot of rocks out of the field in the back. He and a laborer are the ones who piled all those rocks back at the corner where they found that girl's skeleton.”
“Do you know where Tripp spent his weekend?” Det. de Giorgio asked as he made notes.
“Back then, Tripp lived with two other men down in Benicia.”
“That's what I read,” Det. Vance said. “They said the three of them spent the weekend in a drunken stupor. Said Tripp was dead tired from lifting rocks.”
“Benicia's a long drive up from the southern end of the Delta. Tripp had to commute every day,” Esmerelda said. “He continually made a fuss about not liking to drive long distances.”
“He lives here now, doesn't he?” Det. Vance asked.
“One of his roommates died from a heart attack. The other one moved away,” Esmerelda said. “So I had Tripp move here. He's devoted to his work. Made this property look more like an estate than a place of death.”
Public records said that Orson's vehicle and belongings were found untouched at his campsite in Placerville. With his body found back in Courtland, someone got to him and drove him back.
“The perpetrator had to know you wouldn't be home,” Det. de Giorgio said.
“Everyone in town knew us,” Esmerelda said. “Knew that no one would be at the house that weekend.”
“Was there an investigation of Orson's acquaintances up in Placerville?” Sara asked, jumping into the conversation.
“Believe it or not,” Det. Vance said. “We still have problems with claim jumpers up in those hills. What was believed, till now, was that another person could have thought Orson was encroaching on his panning area and killed him. Didn't have to be anyone he knew. But that doesn't seem logical now.”
Esmerelda shook her head sadly. “Never met acquaintances he knew in Placerville.”
“Since your husband's hyoid bone was broken,” Det. Vance said. “It does tie somewhat to victims already found.”
Chapter 46
By mid-October the Rio Vista Bass Derby, one of the three largest Delta festivals, came and went. Neither Sara nor Daphine attended. Sara had no real desire to spend much time in Rio Vista. During her school years, the yellow bus picked her up at her front door in Ryde. She attended classes and nothing else, no after-school activities and no visiting, because the homebound bus left immediately after classes.
“I get to Rio for a showing now and again,” Daphine said over lunch in Locke one afternoon. “When I opened my shop here instead of Rio, I lost contact with my friends. Rio's a different county, a different world.”
Later, they stood in Sara's front yard under the shade trees. After nearly four months of having multiple construction crews crawling inside and out at Talbot House, plus the legal investigations and delays, the refurbishing was nearly finished.
The white hexagonal gazebo included steps on the two front and back sections of its six sides. “I wanted this large enough so that several of us can enjoy a meal here,” Sara said.
“Could be used as a bandstand for social functions,” Daphine said.
Sara reveled in the satisfaction of a dream come true. For just a moment, she visualized herself and a man dancing between the columns; a man with blue-topaz eyes, who occupied all her embellished fantasies.
“Earth to Sara,” Daphine said.
Sara felt her face flush. “The house should be finished in about two weeks.”
Daphine's grin was playfully mocking. “That's if they don't find another body, right?”
Sara motioned upwards. “Needed to put on a new roof too. Once they removed the fireplace and chimney, they found a lot of dry rot.”
“A little more than you bargained for?”
Sara grimaced. “Cost-wise, yes.”
A new roof, sea-green upper floor singles, fresh paint, and all new windows completed the exterior work. From the outside, the house looked new. They walked around the structure to view the finished changes.
On the north side, Daphine frowned and stepped closer to inspect the newly installed basement windows. “Oh-oh,” she said, stooping down. “Not again.”
Sara leaned closer. One of the new windows contained pry marks, perhaps made by a screwdriver or chisel. “Darned construction guys,” she said. “Sometimes they rush too much to do the job right.”
“The construction people wouldn't be that careless, would they?”
Sara remembered and then gasped. “This is same window… the old window had pry marks. You saw them first, Daphine.”
“Yeah, someone tried to get in. I told you that back then and… and now, here's more marks on your new window.”
“Well, they didn't get in because my alarm system didn't go off,” Sara said. “Johanna thinks someone's after me.”
“She's got that right!”
“Patrol cars pass on the levee a lot more frequently now. Sometimes they park up at the eucalyptus trees, writing reports, I guess.”
“Maybe sleeping.”
They walked completely around the house and then stepped into the basement. The newly sanded concrete floors and the walls now dry walled and painted made the tired old workspace bright and cheerful. They stepped around the pile of Sara's belongings.
“So you put the washer and dryer down here after all.”
“Couldn't wait for the back porch to be finished,” Sara said.
“You should still put the appliances up there, like you planned,” Daphine said. “It's more convenient.”
With the remodeled staircase off the kitchen, all an intruder had to do was get into the basement, maybe through a pried window, and he would have access to the entire house. She had to remember to set the alarm when alone or away.
They entered the house through the back porch door. The new kitchen cabinets and flooring were outstanding. A lovely light pinkish-greenish Italian marble covered the countertops. Complementary ceramic tile covered the floor.
Daphine took it all in, running her fingertips over the marble. “Of course it's imported,” she said.
Farther in, the redesigned stairway flowed down between the kitchen and dining room. What was once a servants' shadowy passageway was now a showcase of elegance. The pantry would no longer be used as a passage to the kitchen. Sawdust, wood and tools still littered the floor toward the front of the house.
After a tour of the upstairs, Daphine stood on the back staircase and looked upward. “Used to be a lone hole for attic access. Can we walk all the way into the attic now? Like going into another room?”
Once inside the attic, Sara said. “Finished off these walls too. If I've got the space, I'll make use of it.”
“Wow!” Daphine said. “Just look at the north light that pours in.” Too soon, as always, Daphine had to run. “I'm totally envious,” she said, starting the engine. “Wish I could remodel that rental I'm in. I'm sure I could increase the living space.”
#
Sara went looking for the foreman and found him at the front staircase.
“My guys just wouldn't do that,” he said as they made their way to the north side. After seeing the marks, he shook his head. “No reason for my guys to open a window that way.”
Sara immediately called Johanna at her cafe. “Whoever it was musta' gave up when they saw your alarm box mounted up there under the eaves,” Johanna said. “You'd better keep those two workers living there.”
That night, Sara examined the gun in her dresser drawer. She hoped never to use it. She anticipated having a lot of people walk through the house once the remodeling was done, causing doubts about her hiding place. She pushed the pistol deeper beneath the underclothes, hoping her private dresser drawers would not be opened.
Chapter 47
“You brought me good luck,” Pierce said over breakfast at Clampett Tract. “I'm getting an advance on my new book.”
“So soon?” She passed a bite of dry toast to the dogs. She had kept them overnight again. “I thought publishers were like government bureaucracy, only worse.”
Choco and Latte were big now, though they wouldn't be a year old till the beginning of December. The color of their coats matured and glowed and they were beautiful animals. They paced a lot and were always hungry. They hadn't changed their demeanor toward her or anyone else that Sara could tell. Still, they were a handful.
“I have a track record with my publisher.” Pierce chewed quickly and swallowed. “I can pay you back finally.”
“I didn't expect to be paid.”
“It's me, Sara. I need to.”
“I can't let you. I just finished two more computer games. Pierce, I'm doing fabulous.”
Her next two games were directed more for younger children: Slim, the Slammer, a baseball game, and Rubber Band Man, a silly but challenging exercise with what can be done with rubber bands in addition to seeing how far they can be shot through the air. Both were developed to promote acute hand-eye coordination in youngsters.
“I want to pay you for this house, the computer—”
“I'll tear up your check.” She appreciated Pierce needing to feel in charge of his life, surely as she needed to take charge of hers. “Spend your money, but not with me. Start an IRA. Stuff your mattress. We're not getting any younger, you know?”
“I need to start paying the rent.”
“I paid it. A year in advance.”
“Sara!”
“Pay the utilities then. Pay the gardeners.” The couple that maintained lawns at several Clampett Tract homes had also been tending Pierce's yard. Sara flapped her hand, not wanting to be bothered with such things.
“Sara, I don't know how to take you. Haven't you ever needed to do something for yourself and…?” He stopped, thought a moment, then looked up and flashed a sparkling grin. “That was a silly question.”
After breakfast they sat in the living room. Pierce could not keep his eyes off the dream drawing.
“Ever since we found Orson under the workshop,” Sara said. “I haven't had that dream again.”
“Still have the ghost?”
“Never saw one,” she said, being silly. “I keep hearing bumps though.”
“What about the footsteps?”
“Not since I have an alarm and two live-ins.”
“Still, you need to be cautious. Whoever tried to get us will think of another way to do it.”
“You think the person was out to get you too?”
“No prowlers here. It's Talbot House and whoever's in it.”
She didn't dare tell him about the new pry marks. Nor would she mention her pistol. What she needed was to spend the day with a friend and not worry or think of her problems. “Let's go for a ride,” she said.
“You haven't learned enough about the Delta, I see.”
They passed the Walnut Grove Bridge heading southwest around Big Bend. “I notice the seasons more since I've returned.”
“We were unobserving kids back then,” he said, looking out over the tops of trees. “Pear and apple pickings are finished.”
Driving on the Grand Island levee, pear trees that were now mere skeletons would be pruned before the next growing season began. Laborers would bundle up against the cold and drizzle and thin out branches on thousands of acres of trees, one tree at a time.
“I read where they flood the fields after harvesting the corn and wheat,” she said.
“Depends on the island. Thousands of acres become a habitat for wintering birds.”
Rather than burning or disking, flooding the fields was an effective and less-expensive way of breaking down crop stubble. Water broke down what the birds didn't ingest. It further reduced salt in the ground. The mix of decaying plants and bird manure enriched the soil.
Nearing Ryde, Sara looked at the river. No matter the season, rushing or lazing along, the river was a mesmerizing memory. Water continually lapped; the sunny side of the waves reflecting a silver hue on the greenish, silty surface.
Suddenly, she veered off the levee into the parking lot behind the Ryde Hotel. “Let's have coffee,” she said.
He was getting around better, but past experience had taught him to rely on his walking stick. She met him at the tailgate. “Have you walked on the spot where your shack used to stand?” he asked.
“No, just being this close and seeing it covered with fairway grass is enough.”
Choco and Latte couldn't be left alone, especially not left inside a hot vehicle, or any vehicle, while Sara and Pierce went inside. Pierce suggested they get a table out on the terrace behind the hotel. There the dogs could remain with them.
“When the dogs stay overnight at Talbot House, do they sense anything spooky?”
“You know? Sometimes they seem to bark at the air,” Sara said. “But you know something? They are pretty mature now. If an intruder tried to break in, I'll bet they'd take the person's leg off.”
Chapter 48
Pierce's birthday was a week away. Sara wanted to buy him a new aquarium. She decided to drop by the house that afternoon to find out, without giving away her plan, if he still had any interest in one. While in Walnut Grove, she stopped at the Post Office to mail copies of the two new game DVDs to the copyright office in Washington, and two copies of each to her marketing manager.
Later, at Pierce's house, he said “Da-dah!” He gesturing in animated fashion to the sideboard in the dining area as she entered. He had purchased an aquarium, hexagonal, like the one destroyed. “Got a steal of a deal on the Internet. He thumbed toward the back yard. “Kid back there through the gate had too many tenants in his tank.” Tiny colorful fish flitted around their new home. Truly, living with congenial neighbors was something that Pierce much appreciated.
Her surprises for him would end. He acted overjoyed being able to do something for himself. Maybe she would just take him to dinner, to one of those gourmet restaurants in Sacramento. He seldom went to Sacramento, with the exception of health emergencies.
In an instant, Sara felt a sense of release. She worried too much over Pierce and he was functioning well again. Now her attention could focus on forming the foundation she thought of a few weeks back. It was another of her ideas that quickly took on a life of its own. She needed all her stamina and wits about her because the purpose of the new organization was so important, so dire. It might well be her grandest undertaking and she intended to brea
the life into it.
Her cell phone rang. As she answered, she stepped out onto the back terrace to find that Pierce had something cooking in the covered barbeque.
“Listen,” Esmerelda said on the phone as the dogs barked in the background. “Do you realize that in all the time we've known each other, you've only stayed for dinner once?”
“You do love to entertain, don't you?”
Esmerelda hushed the dogs. “Yep. You have any plans for this evening?” She didn't wait for a reply. “Come as you are. We'll eat about five. I can make my evening rounds afterwards,” she said. “The weather's turning chilly and I have a feeling this is one of the last good days for a meal outdoors.”
The smell of Pierce's dinner searing on the grill nagged at her stomach. Sara realized she was back at an old habit of skipping meals when busy. She and Daphine were fast becoming known as the two toothpicks among their slowly widening circle of acquaintances. Sara felt ravenous. “I'll be there,” she said.
“Good. We'll barbeque on the deck. I thought I'd invite your sister too.” Her tone was meant to cajole.
It took a second to understand that Esmerelda meant Daphine. “A little after four then. Is that okay?”
#
“Let's get out of the kitchen before we finish off the salad,” Daphine said, pinching a last bite of lettuce.
Esmerelda fed the dogs to avoid having them beg at the table. Not that that would stop Choco. Spirited waltzes, Danses Viennoises, directed by Michael Dittrich, played through the speakers, both inside and outside on the deck. Esmerelda knew how to set a mood. Sara had made a quick stop at the grocers on the way over. Now she poured together her tropical juice concoction, a substitute cocktail in the evening hours. “Thanks for doing that,” Esmerelda said. “None of us drink much alcohol anymore.”
Sara stood before the kitchen window pouring the glassfuls when she caught a glimpse of a sedan approaching on the levee and then turning onto the down ramp into the hospice property. By the time she carried the tray of frosty glasses out to the deck, she came face to face with Huxley Keane bounding up the stairs.