by Nancy Skopin
After Drew and I called it quits, I decided that was it for me. Who can honestly say they’ll be with you until death, let alone love, honor, and cherish you that long? Most people don’t know from one moment to the next what they want, so how can anyone claim to know what they’ll want forty or fifty years in the future?
I’m happily single now, but I have to admit I sometimes yearn for male companionship, especially at night. I’m not opposed to having a relationship, I just don’t want to make or accept any promises about living happily ever after.
My pet peeve is people who maneuver themselves into positions of power and then abuse that power. I’ve never been content, and I don’t know how to relax. That’s me in a nutshell.
I e-mailed CIS requesting the records search on Laura Howard, and then I checked my list and placed a call to Los Angeles.
Laura’s Aunt Sylvia answered on the third ring, sounding like she’d been crying. It was nice to know someone in Laura’s family was openly grieving.
“Hello?” she sniffled.
“Mrs. Davis?”
“Yes.”
“This is Nicoli Hunter. Has Kate spoken with you about me?”
“Oh, yes. The detective, right? She said you might be calling. What can I do for you, dear?”
“I have a couple of questions about Laura. Is this a good time?”
“As good a time as any,” she said, and blew her nose loudly near the receiver.
“When was the last time you spoke with her?” I began.
“About three weeks ago, I guess.” She sniffled and sighed.
“Do you remember what you talked about?”
“About me, mostly. Laura was a good listener. Always interested in what was going on in my life. I’d told her I was signing up for salsa dance classes and she called to see if I’d gone through with it.”
“Wow. So did you?”
“Oh, yes. The classes are wonderful. I’ve missed a couple since…you know.”
“Of course. Did Laura happen to mention anyone she was dating?”
“Not that I recall, no.”
“How did she seem to you?”
“You mean was she acting differently?”
“Yes. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary in her tone of voice? Did she seem unhappy, angry, depressed?”
“Actually she seemed a little more subdued than usual, but I couldn’t tell you why.”
“Okay. What can you tell me about the family?”
“Kate said I should tell you anything you wanted to know. You want to talk about Laura’s relationship with her parents?”
“If you have the time.”
“I have almost nothing but time,” she said. “I recently retired.”
“Oh really? What did you retire from?”
“I’m a clinical psychologist. Didn’t Kate tell you? No, of course not. Why would she? I just assumed that was why you were asking me about the family.”
“Kate didn’t mention it, but I would like to hear your thoughts.”
“You’re very observant aren’t you, dear? I suppose that’s why you’re an investigator. Laura was a very confused young woman. They spoiled her when she was little. Not enough discipline. No structure. They gave her anything she wanted without thinking about how that might affect her later in life. When Laura was twelve Derrick started his software company. Kate became involved with a couple of charities around that same time. So there was a change in the amount of attention they gave Laura. I think she may have felt abandoned…started acting out.
“When Laura was in high school Kate finally realized that she and Derrick had inadequate parenting skills. They took her to a psychiatrist, but that only made matters worse. She ran away from home when she was fourteen. The police brought her back three months later. She’d been living in a commune somewhere in Marin County. After that Laura’s behavior deteriorated until she took that job dancing. It was the last straw for Kate. She seemed to give up on Laura after that.”
“Wait. They knew Laura was an exotic dancer?”
“Oh yes. She made no effort to hide her occupation from Kate and Derrick.”
However, Kate had hidden it from me. I wondered why.
“Derrick checked out when Laura was twelve,” Sylvia continued. “I think he may have had a hard time dealing with her sexuality. Although, it’s interesting to note that our father seemed to withdraw from Derrick when he was around that same age.
“Anyway, I tried to tell them Laura needed discipline when she was a toddler, but nobody listens to the aunt. So few people are qualified to be parents. The point is, Laura wasn’t a bad person. She just needed guidance and structure. I’m probably telling you more than you need to know.”
I couldn’t write fast enough to keep up with Sylvia’s commentary, so it took me a moment to realize she’d stopped talking.
“What? Oh no, this is exactly the kind of information I need. What happened when Laura was in high school?”
“She discovered boys. Started sneaking out at night. Coming home at dawn. Her grades suffered. Derrick caught her coming in early one morning. Kate told me about it later. She said that Derrick had called Laura a whore. The look on Laura’s face when he said that just broke Kate’s heart.”
“Did you ever meet any of Laura’s college boyfriends?”
“No, I ever met him. Saw pictures of him though. Nice looking boy.”
“She only dated one guy in college?”
“Yes. They were engaged.”
“Do you remember his name?”
She thought for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry, I’m drawing a blank. I’m sure Kate and Derrick will remember though.”
“So what happened? Why didn’t they get married?”
“She broke it off. All she said to me about it was that he turned out not to be the one.”
“What about female friends?” I asked.
“Laura didn’t have many friends, male or female, because she didn’t like herself very much. She thought there must be something wrong with anyone who wanted to spend time with her, poor child.”
Sylvia and I talked for almost thirty minutes, then I thanked her for her time and her insights, and gave her my office number in case she thought of anything else that might help.
I shook the cramps out of my fingers and entered the notes I’d taken into Laura’s case file. I needed to buy a telephone headset so I could type while I was listening.
I called Kate and, before I had a chance to say anything, she asked if I had decided to take the case. I realized that in my mind I was already committed.
“I still have a few things to check out before making that decision,” I hedged.
Sometimes I need to say no before I can even think about saying yes. I asked if she’d be home for a while and she said she was on her way out, but that she’d be happy to wait for me, so I locked up the office and drove to Atherton.
Once again Kate answered the door herself. She was wearing white today. White slacks, an elegant white blouse, and a pair of taupe Ferragamo sandals. She looked flawless. Why should that annoy me? She invited me in and we sat facing each other in oversized armchairs in the living room.
“When I was going through Laura’s desk,” I began, “I didn’t find any telephone bills. Is the phone in her room a private line?”
“Yes. I took care of the bills for her.”
“Do you have the statements?”
She looked puzzled, but said nothing and left the room briefly. She came back with a single white envelope.
“I only have the latest one,” she said. “After I pay them I throw them away. This just came yesterday.”
I accepted the bill, minus the pay stub and envelope.
“What about
her credit cards?”
“She had an American Express Platinum, but she almost never used it.”
“Did you take care of those bills for her as well?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Again she left the room, returning with a file folder of statements, which she handed to me. Now I knew why Laura had written a check to the Sky Ranch. For some reason she wanted to keep that part of her life private.
“There’s one more thing I need to know, Kate. Why didn’t you tell me that Laura was an exotic dancer?”
Kate flushed with embarrassment, and looked down at her feet before responding. “I was afraid if you knew…that you wouldn’t respect her enough to take the case.” She looked me in the eye and I saw the unspoken plea.
I nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow with my decision.”
She silently ushered me to the door.
I drove back to the office and locked Laura’s AMEX and phone bills in my growing file on the investigation. I was on my way back out when I thought to check my e-mail. Sure enough, among a few messages from my regular clients, I had a response from CIS. I scanned it quickly while it was printing. Laura had received three speeding tickets in the last twelve months. If her license had been suspended it wasn’t mentioned in the report. I read further and discovered that she’d been arrested for solicitation in March, and that the charges had subsequently been dropped. What the hell?
I picked up the phone and called Kate, but I got the machine.
“Kate, it’s Nicoli,” I said. “I need you to call your attorney and ask him to request copies of Laura’s criminal record from the Redwood City Police Department. I need to know more about her activities over the last year.”
I left my office number, in case she’d misplaced it, then shut down the computer and locked up the office. It was time to meet Laura’s father. I was so not looking forward to this.
Chapter 9
I arrived at InSight Software a few minutes early and cruised around the parking lot. The cars that occupied the lot looked expensive and almost half of them were SUVs. Considering the price of gas, the company must be doing well.
In the lobby I was greeted by a lovely black woman seated behind a U-shaped reception counter. She was wearing a headset and a form-fitting business suit. Her nametag read Tanya.
“May I help you?” she asked.
I handed her my card and said, “I have a ten o’clock appointment with Derrick Howard.”
She pressed a few keys on her console, spoke softly into the headset, listened to the response, and said, “Mister Howard will be with you in a few minutes.”
Tanya made me one of those visitor’s badges that you stick to your lapel and that never stay put.
I seated myself on a couch near a huge rubber plant. While I was waiting I reviewed the notes I’d prepared for the interview and girded myself for the encounter.
Derrick Howard strode into the lobby at 10:07. He was at least six-two, slender but solid, and wore a pinstriped white shirt, a red power tie, and gray wool gabardine slacks. His hair was brown with some white around the temples and his features resembled a bird of prey – dark intense eyes and a beaky nose. He radiated a fierce intelligence. Many people feel intimidated when confronted by someone wealthy and powerful, but most people don’t have a father who’s a Cossack.
Derrick shook my hand as I introduced myself. His grip was firm and his hand was warm and dry. He smiled and apologized for keeping me waiting. Was this was the same asshole I’d spoken with on the phone? Some individuals behave differently in person. They think they can get away with anything on the telephone because you can’t see them. It’s like the way people drive, but don’t get me started on that.
Derrick escorted me down a series of hallways and up one flight of stairs to his office. When we were inside and he’d closed the door, his demeanor became frosty. Apparently the friendly act had been for the benefit of his employees.
His office was a corner suite with expansive windows. He seated himself behind an oversized mahogany desk. I took a seat on the other side of the desk and observed that my visitor’s chair was about five inches lower than the executive swivel on which Derrick was perched. It’s amazing the lengths to which some people will go to make others feel insignificant. I believe this is a holdover from childhood when we have no control over what happens to us. People have a fundamental need to believe they have command of their lives, and that often translates to control over others. In reality, all any of us can control is our own response to what happens.
I took out my notebook. “I understand Laura seldom brought friends home.”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“Did she talk about her friends, or any men she was dating?”
“No.”
“Were you aware of any particular man she might have been seeing?”
“No.”
“Did you know Laura enjoyed skydiving?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
“There was a videotape in her bedroom of Laura and a male companion skydiving.”
“Really? I’d like to see that.”
“I’ll be sure to get it back to you. I was wondering if you have any idea who the man might be. He was tall, athletic, brown hair.”
“No.”
“Mr. Howard, were you close to your daughter?” Even taking what Sylvia had told me into account, I didn’t want to assume anything.
“No, Ms. Hunter, I was not close to Laura. My business takes up most of my time. When she was a little girl things were different. We haven’t been close since she was eleven or twelve. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you.”
Eleven or twelve. Puberty. Maybe Sylvia was onto something.
“Did you know Laura got three speeding tickets in the last year?”
The eyebrow popped up again. “No, I wasn’t made aware of that,” he said.
This was getting me nowhere. I chose not to bring up the solicitation arrest, the strip club, or the fiancé until I’d made a decision about taking the case.
“I may need to speak with you again,” I said, handing him my card. “But I won’t take any more of your time today.”
He tucked my card in his breast pocket and said, “I’ll walk you down.”
We took a different staircase on the way out and passed a glass-walled computer lab full of men and women hovering over keyboards with large flat panel monitors. My eye was caught by a movie-star-handsome guy in his mid-thirties. Tall, wavy brown hair, nice build.
He must have felt me watching him, because he looked up and met my gaze. His eyes were dark and penetrating and as he stared at me I felt exposed, almost violated. There’s no other way to describe it.
Derrick and I continued down the hall and he ushered me out a side door. I thanked him for seeing me and told him I’d be in touch.
Once I was outside I still couldn’t shake off the visual encounter with the guy in the computer lab.
I walked to my car feeling unsettled. Laura’s father showed no emotional response to the death of his daughter. Maybe he’d viewed her as an embarrassment or an inconvenience and was glad to be rid of her. Of course, he might just be a very private person. Maybe he was a seething cauldron of repressed emotion, ready to explode with the slightest additional pressure, and was just hiding it really well.
I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I decided to take another look at my photos of Detective Anderson’s binder. I drove back to the office and read the whole thing this time, start to finish. Then I lit a cigarette, picked up the phone, and called the Fanny Pack.
The phone rang seven times before someone picked up.
“Fanny Pack,” said a male voice.
“Frank?”
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“
Nikki Hunter. The PI, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, without enthusiasm.
“Can you talk?”
“Why? Did you catch the guy?”
“Not yet, but I have another question about your relationship with Laura. You can answer yes or no.”
“Okay.”
“Did Laura ever ask you to choke her during sex, or to put anything around her neck?”
For about ten seconds I heard only music on the other end of the line. Then he whispered, “Are you kidding me? That’s sick. Why would you ask me that?”
“I’m sorry, Frank. I’ll talk to you later.”
I hung up knowing I’d left him with an image that would haunt him. So what had I learned? That maybe it wasn’t Laura’s idea to put her head in a plastic bag. Maybe.
I took out the file folder of American Express bills and started going through them. The only items Laura routinely charged were expensive lingerie and garments from a shop called Bad Girls on Polk Street in San Francisco. Those were charges her mother had to have seen, and again I had the impression she was trying to antagonize her parents. When I got to the April statement there was only one item on it for a Motel 6 in Lompoc on the eighteenth. I kept that one out and got the phone number from information.