Having opted for iced tea instead of coffee, I unwrapped my straw. “I hope hanging out here doesn’t become an everyday event.” I stuck the straw into the full glass and stirred the ice and lemon wedge around. “People might talk.” I smiled at Dev. He did not smile back. “By the way,” I added, “how’s Beverly?”
“Bev’s fine, thanks.” His face was as deadpan as a bowl of oatmeal. “She wants to have you and Greg over for dinner soon.” His eyes never left my face. His mouth was tight-lipped and disapproving. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll probably be in prison for killing you, providing some sicko doesn’t get to you first.”
My mouth hung open. “And what kind of attitude is that? Especially since I have news about Laurie Luke’s murder!”
“That’s just it, Odelia. You’re not supposed to have news about her murder, or any other murder.” His eyes bore into me. “You said you were just checking out a friend’s hunch about someone. As I recall, you were just trying to prove this person was not the Blond Bomber.” After a slight pause, Dev leaned forward. “Is this friend of your friend’s Laurie Luke’s killer? Is that what you found out?”
“Not exactly. In fact, I’m pretty sure this guy isn’t involved in any murders. But while I was checking out some background information, I stumbled upon the person who just might be Laurie’s murderer.”
“With all the talented cops and detectives in Orange County, you just happened to have stumbled upon Laurie Luke’s murderer?”
“Good possibility.”
He started to say something, but I held up a hand to halt him.
“Dev, if you make some sarcastic crack about it being a coinkydink, I swear I’ll kick you under the table until you cry like a girl.”
He leaned back in his chair, casually sipped his coffee, and studied me. Slowly a small smile crossed his face. “Okay, tell me what you know. Or think you know.”
In detail, I told Dev what I had seen and overheard in the parking lot of Seventh Veil Costuming. As with Greg, I left out the part where Gordon Harper requested a personal show.
“And Lisa Luke told you today that Kirk Thomas was leaving unexpectedly for Africa?”
“Yes. Leaving tomorrow.”
Dev and I were both quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts and theories.
“Dev,” I said, breaking the thoughtful silence, “could Kirk Thomas be smuggling furs and things like that for Seventh Veil, for their costumes?”
He gave me a small smile. “Good theory, but my money’s on diamonds. And I’ll bet it has nothing to do with the costume company.”
“Diamonds?” I churned the idea around in my head. “But of course. That’s one of the things Africa is known for. Greg and I watched a show about diamond smuggling on the Discovery Channel one night.”
Dev nodded. “Gordon Harper is a career criminal, Odelia. He’s been into a lot of things. All of them high-end.”
Lisa, Laurie, Brian, Jane, Amber, Gordon, Crystal Lee, and Kirk, all wearing diamonds and stripper costumes, spun around in my head like a giant freak show. I closed my eyes and gave my head a shake, as if mixing a martini inside it.
“You okay?”
“Huh?” I opened my eyes and looked at Dev. “Yes, I’m fine. Just too many players and so many possibilities.” In my mind, I mentally sorted the information into neat little piles, trying to match up who belonged to what. It was a lot like sorting a pile of freshly laundered socks.
“Dev, do you think Gordon Harper killed Crystal Lee? You know, to take over her business? He became the sole owner when she died.”
“Actually, he was a suspect at the time of her death but was quickly ruled out. And according to the reports, he had no connection with the other victims.”
“At least none that the police knew of. Maybe someone the victims knew had deals go bad and Harper took it out on the women, as he did with Laurie.”
Dev mulled over the possibility. I could almost see the gears in his head moving the information around. “It’s unlikely but certainly a possibility, given what you witnessed. I’ll talk to the Laguna Beach Police about it. See what they remember that might not be in the reports.”
I moved on to the next pile of thoughts. “Laurie Luke’s murder was made to look like it was the Blond Bomber. If Harper has no connection to the other victims, could he have killed her and made it look like the serial killer to throw off the police?”
“That’s certainly a possibility.”
“Because of Crystal Lee’s murder, he would have known enough details about the Blond Bomber to make it look convincing.”
Dev shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee. “But he wouldn’t have known all the details.”
I looked at Dev and waited for further explanation. He again studied me, no doubt wondering how much to tell me.
“The police don’t give out all the details, Odelia, especially in open cases, not even to the families of the victims. Lisa Luke’s murder mimicked the killings of the Blond Bomber, but not everything matched. Serial killers are often very precise in how they kill. Little things—ceremonies, if you will—can have significance. How they leave the body, what they do to it, the method … each item of murder, right down to how and why they choose their victims, can mean something to them. It’s not one-hundred-percent accurate. There are those that slaughter at will, without a plan, but generally the more precise the killing, the more likely the next one will be the same or very similar.”
“So you’re telling me that the other Blond Bomber victims were all the same? Even Crystal Lee?”
“Almost like following a manual. Even the latest one, except for the writing. Only the Luke woman’s was different, which is why I don’t think the other deaths are connected to Harper. The differences aren’t huge, but there were enough for us to take notice and consider other possibilities. But so far, until now, we’ve come up empty-handed.” He drained his coffee. “Gordon Harper would have known enough to copy the killings, but not enough to be exact. And if he’s using Kirk Thomas to do something dirty, he may have had a motive for killing her.”
“Dev, I remember reading that the Blond Bomber victims had all been sexually violated. Had Laurie been also?”
Dev played with his empty coffee mug, obviously uncomfortable. “According to the autopsy, the Luke woman had had recent sex, but she didn’t appear to be raped or tortured. But she’d also been given a sedative; the others had not, which could be why there was no sign of a struggle.” He stopped fiddling with the heavy mug. “She also died by asphyxiation. The others had been stabbed in the chest. Whoever killed Laurie Luke stabbed her after she was dead to make it look like the serial killer had done it.”
I let out a deep breath, not even aware I had been holding it. “Asphyxiation? She suffocated?”
“Yes, Odelia, she was suffocated.”
It was my turn to fiddle with my beverage glass. As I poked my lemon slice down to the bottom with my straw, I came to a conclusion.
“Dev, Lisa Luke cannot go home alone. It’s too dangerous. Harper may snatch her like he did Laurie.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
At least this time when I took in a stray, I’d had the good manners to talk to Greg first. I had filled him in earlier about Gordon Harper and his threat to Lisa, so he wasn’t surprised when I called and suggested she bunk with us for a while, at least until Dev and his men could do their job and pin Laurie’s murder on Harper and remove the threat to Lisa.
After confirming our plans, Dev and I returned to Lisa’s room. With Dev’s backup, I told her that Greg and I wanted her to stay with us, at least for a couple of days. Dev would talk to her doctor about not releasing her until I could pick her up. I figured I could do that after my visit with Lil.
When Lisa demurred, Dev let out a big, frustrated sigh. After closing the door to her room, he indicated for me to go to her side, knowing what he had
to say would be a huge shock. After I positioned myself in the chair next to her bed, Dev filled her in on who we thought might have killed Lisa and why, and how Kirk was involved. Lisa was as still as a mannequin through it all. Finally, she stirred and looked from me to Dev.
“So all that guilt Kirk poured out this morning wasn’t just something to make me feel better? He really is connected with Laurie’s death?”
“It looks like a good possibility.” Dev kept his voice low and tender, but all business. “Kirk is probably involved with something illegal, and his contacts may have killed her to send him a message—to get him to do what they wanted. We don’t know exactly what it is, but it involves his trips to Africa. We don’t know if your sister was directly involved herself. She could have been.”
“No, Laurie would never do anything illegal. It just wasn’t her character. She didn’t even fudge on her taxes.” Lisa paused. “And I always thought Kirk was the same way.”
I leaned forward. “Did Laurie or Kirk ever say anything about money—about getting any or maybe having a lot in the future?”
Lisa closed her eyes. I didn’t know if she was trying to escape into the black hole of sleep or thinking. Shortly, her eyes opened.
“There was one odd thing back a couple of months ago. Laurie and I were discussing what to do with our condo after she and Kirk married. I offered to take out a loan to buy out her half in a lump sum so that she could have money to put towards a new place for them, but she said not to worry about it. Laurie said that Kirk told her they would have enough money to buy whatever they wanted, so I could take my time buying her out.” Lisa gave a short, sad chuckle. “I remember asking her how Kirk was going to manage that, given the Southern California real-estate market. Laurie laughed and said she didn’t know, but they were either going to have a great place of their own or be living with me.”
There was a short silence again before Lisa turned to me with wide eyes. “But I can’t go stay with you, Odelia. If I’m in danger, you might be also. You and your husband.”
“Ms. Luke,” Dev said, stepping closer, “do you have any family you might be able to stay with, preferably someone outside of California? Although staying with Greg and Odelia would be better than staying in your own home, getting out of town would be the best. At least for a few days.”
She shook her head. “Lisa and I had no family, just each other. Not even a stray cousin. Kirk’s family had become ours.” Her eyes welled with tears. “But it’s safe to say that’s over now, considering the circumstances.”
“Then it’s off to our place.” I gave her a big smile. “Muffin will be happy to see you.”
Lisa didn’t return my smile. “Muffin. You know, Odelia, I would really rather you kept her, even after I return home.”
After telling Lisa I’d be back the next afternoon to chauffeur her to Seal Beach, Dev and I walked together to the elevator.
He punched the down elevator button for me. “Odelia, inside I’m not happy about Lisa Luke going home with you. As she pointed out, it puts both you and Greg in possible danger.”
“But she has no one else, Dev. And no matter where she goes, someone might be in danger.”
“True.” He ran his hands through his curly hair. “If we weren’t so short-handed right now, I’d have an officer go home with her and keep you out of it.”
The elevator came. It was empty. Just as I stepped inside, Dev grabbed my arm. “One more thing. Under no circumstances are you to go to Lisa’s apartment, with or without her. Harper may have it staked out to grab her.”
Yikes! I hadn’t thought of that.
“Buy her new clothes, loan her some of yours, I don’t care. Just do not go to her place. And that’s not a suggestion. That’s an order.”
As much as I hated receiving orders, this time I nodded and said I understood.
“And another thing.”
I looked at Dev expectantly, half knowing what was coming next.
“You are not to go messing with Gordon Harper on your own. Stay away from him. He’s dangerous and already knows who you are. Hopefully, he doesn’t know where you live, and thankfully, you use your maiden name.”
It’s true Gordon Harper didn’t know where I lived. I thought about the order slip I filled out at Seventh Veil and breathed a sigh of relief. I had put down Woobie’s address for shipping purposes, not my home address. As for knowing my married name, it was too late, but I opted not to tell Dev. Greg used Ocean Breeze as his address of record, so I was pretty sure our home in Seal Beach would be off Harper’s radar, at least for a bit. Besides, if we were careful, there would be no reason for him to know Lisa was with me at all.
“Dev, is there any way we can let leak, through the hospital maybe if anyone inquires, that Lisa is leaving town to visit friends?” He looked at me. The elevator door was beeping to close, but he continued to hold it open. “Just in case. If Harper does try to locate her, it might throw him off the scent.”
“I’ll do my best.”
As I exited the elevator into the main lobby of the hospital, I spied a vaguely familiar face. It took me a moment before I placed it as belonging to Paul Milholland, Jane Sharp’s delivery man. He was sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. When he looked up, I caught his eye and smiled. This was someone I might want to talk to when I had more time. Lil had said he’d been working with Jane a long time. If so, he might have some insight into her relationship with her husband, providing I could get him to talk about his boss.
I walked over to him and extended my hand. “Paul? Right? You work for Jane Sharp.”
He looked odd—not bewildered as if he couldn’t place me, but almost embarrassed.
I persisted. “I met you at Lillian Ramsey’s recently. You were delivering a table to her.”
He put down the paper and stood up, still appearing uncomfortable. “That’s right. I’m sorry. For a minute, I didn’t recognize you.” He took my hand and quickly shook it.
“You visiting someone?”
“Uh, no, I’m not.” He fidgeted. “Actually, I’m waiting for someone who is visiting a patient here.”
I wished I had time to chat right now with Paul while he was killing time waiting for his friend, but I had to head home. Then I remembered Lil saying he’d built her bookcases. Perhaps I could use that as a ruse to get his phone number.
“Paul, Lillian told me you do excellent woodwork on a freelance basis. If you’re interested, my husband and I might have some work for you.”
He looked surprised but collected himself quickly. “Yes, I can do most anything in the way of furniture repair or built-ins.”
“I have to run right now, but do you have a card?”
He dug into his shirt pocket and produced a couple of business cards. They were made of cheap white card stock and simply listed Paul Milholland, General Handyman, along with a phone number.
I took the offered cards. “Great. I’ll be in touch soon.”
When I got home, there was piping-hot macaroni and cheese, thanks to the microwave, and a nice salad waiting for me. I had called Greg as soon as I left the hospital parking lot and let him know I was on my way. After a quick dinner, we hit the road for Pasadena. I was glad Greg was driving, because I was road weary.
Debra Kerr, Gabby’s mother, lived in a condominium in the upscale and lovely area just off of Orange Grove. Unlike Gordon Harper’s Marina Del Rey high rise overlooking the harbor, the Kerr condo was in a building only two stories high, surrounded by rolling green lawn and gracious magnolia trees. The address led us to a corner unit on the bottom floor.
After pushing the doorbell twice, a trim, attractive woman with chin-length, honey-colored hair opened the door. She was impeccably dressed and groomed and held a white toy poodle in her arms. After introductions, she let us in. The condo was large and nicely appointed.
“Please call me Debra,” she told us after I addressed her as Mrs. Kerr. “I detest being called Mrs.” She led us into the living room an
d indicated for us to sit. She offered refreshments, but we declined. In front of the large picture window was an impressive grand piano. She caught me admiring it.
“Do you play, Odelia?”
“Sadly, no.”
“That belonged to my father. Gabrielle played quite well. At least when she took the time to practice.” Debra’s lips were tight and her voice brittle as she spoke of her daughter.
“Speaking of Gabby,” I began.
“Gabrielle, please. Her father gave her that loathsome nickname. I’ve always hated it.”
“We understand that you and Mr. Kerr divorced after Gabrielle’s death.”
“Gabrielle’s father and I were already in the middle of a divorce when … when Gabrielle was murdered.”
“I’m sorry for both, Debra.”
“For Gabrielle, yes. We should all be sorry. For such a young, beautiful girl to be killed like that is pure evil.” She paused and put the dog down on the carpet. It immediately beelined for Greg and sniffed his legs with fascination.
“We have a dog and two cats at home,” he explained with a smile. Greg bent down and scratched the dog behind its curly haired ears. It wiggled with joy.
“Baby.” The command from Debra was firm but not sharp. Immediately, the animal returned to sit by its mistress’s feet.
I glanced at Greg and then returned my attention to Debra Kerr. “Debra, as my husband explained when he called, we are looking into the deaths of the women linked to the Blond Bomber for personal reasons. Is there anything you can tell us about the night Gabby—excuse me, Gabrielle—disappeared? Or anything about how she was acting? Was she spending a lot of time on the Internet? Things like that.”
Debra squared her shoulders and held her head erect. “I remember quite well the day Gabrielle disappeared. My husband and I had had a rather heated discussion. I wanted a divorce, and Harold, my husband, wanted to work things out.” She pursed her lips. “Gabrielle was in her room most of the time. When the argument escalated, she slammed her door shut. A while later, she came out and said she was going to Melissa’s house. Melissa was a friend from school. It was a Saturday afternoon. I reminded her to be back in time for dinner.” Debra paused and took a deep breath. “I never saw my daughter alive again.”
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