“Maybe, but just the threat of his going to Korba with it or taking it to the tabloids would be enough to keep Melissa in line.”
A young server with rosy cheeks and a ponytail brought our pizza to the table. We each pulled a couple of slices onto our plates.
“I wish we could shed some light on Gailworth’s past,” I said, “in case Korba’s lawyers haven’t dug deep enough.”
“I hear you,” Cleo said, “but someone like Korba would have a dozen lawyers lined up to testify to everything you’ve uncovered about Gailworth, and more.”
Nick glanced at me. “She has a point.”
I wasn’t going to give up so easily. “Still, we can’t be sure of that. Maybe we should find out which judge is going to preside over the hearing. I’m pretty sure that’s public record.”
“And then what?” Cleo asked.
“I don’t know. I’m not that familiar with courtroom proceedings. Could we ask that judge’s clerk if there’s a way to submit information pertinent to the custody case?”
“No way." Cleo shook her head. That’s not going to work. The clerk isn’t going to pass on third-hand information from an outsider. Judges don’t want to hear off-the-record comments about a case.”
I shrugged in exasperation. “Then what other options do we have?”
“You both know Korba,” Nick said. “Why don’t one of you arrange a private meeting with him? Ask how much he knows about Gailworth?”
“That man’s as arrogant as it gets,” Cleo said. “He won’t take it well if he thinks we’re meddling in something as sensitive as the custody hearing of his granddaughter. Aimee? What do you think?”
I shuddered. “I’m not going there. Two weeks ago I told him to ask Sybil Snyder’s permission before I’d let him see the Ethics Committee minutes. Knowing what I know now, I’m sure he was livid.”
“No kidding.” Cleo laughed. “Going to his mistress to say, ‘Mother, may I?’ isn’t his style. Let me see what I can do.”
“Good,” Nick said. “We want that little girl to end up in the right hands.
“We also want to know why the doctor who saved her life is dead,” Cleo said. “We have to find the guy who installed that secret passage in Quinn’s office.”
“We’re working on that. Anything else?” Nick asked.
“Not me.” Cleo looked at me. “You?”
“Afraid not. I got so caught up in worrying about Natasha and the custody battle that Lowe’s murder took a back seat. It’s too late to save him, but we need to do everything we can for Natasha. Lowe would have been devastated if her health was endangered again.”
“I understand,” Nick said. “Both of you knew the victim, and you want justice for him, so your incentive for finding his killer is different from mine. I don’t know Quinn well enough to get involved, but as long as there’s any chance Aimee’s a person of interest, the two of you are going to keep me updated. Agreed?”
“Of course,” Cleo said. “I just wish we knew more about what the police are doing.”
“We all do,” I said. “Maybe they’re way ahead of us.”
“I hope so.” Cleo opened her purse and put a few bills on the table. “If I manage to meet with Korba without getting my head bitten off, I’ll let both of you know.”
“I’ll get back to Rita Lowe,” I said. “I’ll assure her that her husband was not involved with Sybil Snyder. Maybe she’ll think of someone else who might have wanted Lowe dead.” I dug around in my purse and came up with a crumpled one-dollar bill and two dimes. Embarrassing, but both Cleo and Nick understood that I was strapped with grad school debt.
Nick stood, adding a five to the tip. “And I’ll get in touch with Harry to see if we can do anything to advance his search for the boomer who installed Quinn’s secret passage.”
“Tell him time is critical,” I said. “That custody hearing is only three days away.”
Chapter 25
Monday morning passed in a blur of mundane paperwork. Lola went about her tasks while I ruminated on Sybil Snyder’s phone conversation with Hector Korba. I watched the clock ticking toward noon. As soon as Lola left and the library was empty, I called Rita Lowe. She answered right away and I forged ahead, telling her I was certain that her husband was not Dr. Snyder’s lover, since I had every reason to believe Snyder was involved with someone else. I said I’d rather not disclose who it was.
“That’s impossible,” Rita declared. “I was going to call you about the same thing … only my message to you is the opposite. I have just confirmed that Gavin was involved with Sybil Snyder.”
I took a baffled moment to digest what she said. “I don’t understand. How did you come to that conclusion?”
“One of my well-meaning friends decided to tell me about seeing Gavin and Snyder in a compromising embrace a month ago at a hotel in Sacramento. They were both there for a medical conference. Apparently Snyder’s husband had stayed home to cover their office practice. My informant was torn at the time about whether to tell me, but yesterday she decided that since Gavin is dead, I’d want to know he was a ‘louse and good riddance,’ is how she put it.”
I heard the pain in her voice and remembered that she had loved the man in spite of his weakness for other women. Save us from well-meaning friends, I thought.
“Rita, are you sure your friend was right? Is there any doubt in your mind?”
She breathed a weary sigh. “I’m afraid not, but what I don’t understand is why you thought Snyder was seeing someone other than Gavin. Can’t you tell me who it is?”
“I’d rather not. Now I’m wondering if maybe I’m wrong. Let me think about it.”
“As you wish,” Rita said.
We ended the call agreeing to keep in touch. After hearing about Rita Lowe’s husband and Dr. Snyder, my doubts grew. I ran Snyder’s phone call with Korba over in my mind, searching my memory for a chance that I had misinterpreted its meaning. Was it possible she had been arranging to meet with Korba for some legitimate reason, nothing to do with an affair? Maybe they simply wanted to discuss the custody hearing.
I made a run to the cafeteria to pick up a sandwich and then swung by Cleo’s office to ask whether she had contacted Hector Korba. I also wanted to relate what Rita Lowe had told me. I heard a voice from inside her closed office door and instantly recognized it as Korba’s.
“I appreciate your concern,” he said, “but remember, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Before I could move away, Korba came out, nearly plowing into me.
“Miss Machado, you’ve escaped the library.” Korba loomed above me, his solid build and massive head so intimidating, I couldn’t imagine him in a lover’s embrace with Snyder or any other woman. Nor could I imagine him in the role of doting grandfather to a fragile little girl.
“Excuse me.” I held up my sandwich. “I was just meeting Cleo to have a bite of lunch.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” Korba strode away and I dashed into Cleo’s office, closing the door behind me.
“Sounds like that didn’t go over too well,” I said. “What happened?”
“Oh, man!” She held her arms out to her sides. “I’ll never get the sweat stains out of this dress.”
“That bad, huh? Give me the details.”
“I approached it by telling him that some facts about Gailworth had come to my attention from a source I couldn’t name, and that I thought it was important to pass them on.”
“How did he react?”
She rocked her hand in a so-so gesture. “With mixed results. He seemed to appreciate hearing what we’d unearthed about the women Gailworth had bilked, but at the same time, he was peeved that we were taking an interest in his custody hearing. As if it was none of our business, which in his mind it isn’t.”
“So he hadn’t already found out what we knew about Gailworth?”
“I don’t think so. He made some notes, asked a few questions, but then he pretty much warned me to stay out of it and to tell my source to
do the same.”
“Do you still think he’s the best choice for custody of Natasha?”
“So far, I do,” Cleo said. “We know her stepfather is a fraud and her mother is a wimp. And there’s that phony church with the half-assed vegan diet thing that almost killed the child.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “You’re right. I guess we’re still in Korba’s corner on this. I just wish I knew more about his relationship with Sybil Snyder.”
“Why? He’s a grown man. As long as he keeps his love life from affecting Natasha, it probably won’t stop him from getting custody. And you’re not even positive he and Snyder are an item, are you?” She waggled her pen at me. “That phone call you overheard could have been completely innocent.”
“I have to admit it’s possible. I’m not as sure as I was, especially since I just talked to Rita Lowe.” I filled Cleo in on the news that Sybil Snyder had been observed sharing an amorous moment with Gavin Lowe as recently as a month ago.
“You’re kidding.” Cleo dropped her pen and pushed back in her chair. “Well, that trumps your suspicion about Korba, doesn’t it?”
“It looks that way. My concern now is that Rita’s so-called friend could have been wrong about what she observed at that conference in Sacramento, just as I could be wrong about what I heard Snyder saying to Korba on the phone.”
“Good point. Otherwise, Snyder has tangled her personal life in a messy knot with her professional life. I would expect her to be smarter than that.” Cleo picked up her pen and started doodling on a scratch pad. A habit I'd noticed that seemed to help her concentrate. “Besides, where would she find the time for an affair with either man, much less both of them? And how would she manage to keep those affairs a secret with a jealous husband like Glen Capshaw?”
“Don’t ask me. I can’t imagine it." She'd left me more confused than ever. "But I’m glad you brought up Capshaw. Now that we’re aware someone is spreading rumors that his wife was sneaking around with Lowe, I’d like to know more about him.”
“Like, is he capable of murder?” Cleo asked.
“Right. The day Harry and I heard him accusing his wife of cheating, he sounded pretty vindictive.”
“I can’t give you much help there. Capshaw is a member of the TMC medical staff, but he rarely admits patients here. He seems to limit himself almost exclusively to seeing patients in the office practice he shares with Snyder.”
“What about Snyder’s hospitalized patients? Doesn’t Capshaw see them if Snyder isn’t available?”
“Not very often. They have other physicians in their group who cover for Snyder.” Putting her pen down again, Cleo steepled her polished red fingertips. “I don’t see how any of this relates to Gavin Lowe’s murder.”
“Unless the DNA the police have turns out to match Capshaw’s. Think about this. Someone claiming she saw Snyder and Lowe in a compromising situation reported it to Lowe’s wife. Who’s to say that same person didn’t also report it to Snyder’s husband? We know he’s jealous and suspicious. I think we have to find out more about him. Like exactly where he was the night Lowe was shot.”
Cleo threw up her hands. “How are we supposed to do that?”
I rose to my feet. “You’re the one with the inside track to members of the medical staff. Let me know if you come up with any ideas.”
As I headed for the door, Cleo stopped me. “Wait, I almost forgot to tell you. The symphony is scheduling an encore concert. This one’s a fundraiser for the TMC Foundation and all proceeds will be used for upgrades to the Pediatric Unit. They came up with the idea because of Natasha’s hospitalization.”
“What a great idea.” I thought about my plans for a children’s collection for the library. “When is it?”
“This coming Saturday.”
“I wonder if Natasha will be released in time to attend.”
“Me, too,” Cleo said. “Remember what Hector announced last weekend?”
“You mean about her performing a solo? You think he’d want her do it that soon?”
“I wasn’t about to ask him.”
“Do you think she’d have the strength for that?”
“From what I hear, she’s almost good as new. I think the only reason she’s still in-house is that Korba and Snyder are delaying her discharge until after the custody hearing on Wednesday.”
“From what Snyder said to him yesterday, I’m sure you’re right. If Korba wins custody, it would be less traumatic if he took her home directly from the hospital than it would be to take her away from her parents’ home.”
I promised Cleo I would buy at least one ticket to the symphony’s fundraiser. Two tickets, if I could convince Nick or Amah to come along.
Back in the library, I passed the rest of the day quickly. The forensic collection and the consortium were coming together nicely. Now that requests for forensic resources were increasing, I rarely had the kind of slow days I had experienced when I was first hired.
By quitting time I began to wonder how soon I might hear from Nick or Harry. Harry would be busy at the mall construction site, so Nick was the only one of us who had time on his hands for sleuthing. Thanks to Buck Sawyer’s billions and his personal vendetta against drug traffickers, Nick had access to some very talented geeks. If Buck’s team of cyber spies could hack into chatter about illicit drug deals, they shouldn’t have too much trouble picking up the trail of a shady contractor in the business of installing safe rooms and secret passageways. Those extras sounded like exactly what every drug kingpin needed.
My phone rang just as I was taking a last stroll through the empty library, turning off computers and checking for books or journals my patrons might have left lying around. I hurried to my desk and caught the call on the fourth ring. As soon as Detective Kass identified himself, I knew why he was calling and what he wanted. My DNA.
“I wondered if you might like to volunteer a sample,” he said. “It’ll only take a minute. We’re asking a number of folks, so don’t feel you’re being singled out.”
“I understand,” I said. “Where do I go to do this?”
“I’m calling from the road now, and I’m not far from your workplace. Would you like to meet me somewhere private?”
“You mean right now?” I had been warned by Cleo that this might happen, and I had made up my mind to volunteer my DNA if I was asked, but I thought I’d have more notice.
“That would be great, if it’s convenient,” Kass said. He sounded so polite and friendly, he might have been inviting me for coffee instead of asking me to rule myself out as a murder suspect. I glanced around the empty library.
“Can we do it here, in the library? I’m just closing, but I could wait for you.”
“I’ll be there right away.”
His call reminded me of my stolen purse and my fractured knee. After several days, I’d heard nothing from the sheriff’s office. My mugging was under county jurisdiction, so I decided not to mix apples and oranges by mentioning it to Kass.
He arrived in less than five minutes, reassuring me that since he drove an unmarked car and wore street clothes instead of a uniform, no one would realize I was being visited by an investigator. As promised, the cheek swab took less than a minute. He thanked me for volunteering the sample and went on his way. The experience left me with an eerie feeling, as if I’d just surrendered the most essential component of my personal privacy.
I worried about the DNA sample as I closed the library. Heading to my car, I punched in Nick’s number on my phone, forcing my thoughts back to the problem of finding the worker who did the job in Quinn’s office. All we needed to know was whether the guy had given away Quinn’s secret, accidentally or otherwise.
“Hey, lady. What’s up?” Funny about voices. Some are annoying, some are just voices, and some are nice to hear. Nick had one of the nice ones. No matter what he was saying, I enjoyed the sound; I wondered if he felt the same when he heard my voice.
“I’m just leaving work. Ha
ve you talked to Harry today?”
“Saw him at lunchtime. We have some news, but we didn’t think it was urgent enough to bother you and Cleo at work.”
“I have news, too. Where are you?”
“Headed for the dojo. Do you want to meet us there?”
“I’m on my way.” I turned on my wipers to clear away a light mist.
Chapter 26
Nick and Harry were already on the mat when I arrived at the dojo at five fifteen. Last Monday had been the peewee class, but on alternate Mondays, Harry taught a special self-defense system called Arnis, which originated in the Philippines and involved stick fighting.
We had forty-five minutes before Harry’s six o’clock students arrived.
“Nick told me about your knee,” Harry said, filling a paper cup from the water cooler. “Hope they catch that sucker.” He drained the cup and tossed it in the wastebasket.
“Thanks.” I didn’t want to blurt out the news about my visit from Detective Kass right away. I watched while the guys engaged in a few more minutes of randori.
They soon bowed off, giving us a chance to compare notes on what I’d begun to think of as “the case of the secret passageway.” If we could discover who knew about it other than Quinn, we’d have a pretty good idea who had killed Gavin Lowe. The only flaw in that thinking was the possibility that Quinn had committed the crime himself.
The three of us gathered in a corner space that had been set aside as the sensei's office. Harry gestured me toward the most comfortable chair, out of consideration for my injured knee.
“Aimee, did you invite Cleo to this party?” he asked.
“No, she’s not a martial arts kind of gal. She wouldn’t appreciate the locker room smell in here. Besides, she has a life and a husband to go home to. I’ll fill you in on what she told me and call her later tonight with anything she should hear.”
“Good enough,” Nick rolled his shoulders and flexed his neck, still in post-workout mode. “Why don’t you go first?”
I started with Detective Kass and the DNA sample.
“You knew that was coming,” Harry said. “Are you okay with it?”
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