“Hello.”
“Hi, Gerald.” She looked at Barry. A flush warmed her face. She looked away.
“Is Rita home?”
“No, Rita’s at work. I’ll tell her you called. Wait. Let me ask you, the day of the party at Gina’s, did you leave before or after Eva?”
“Neither one.”
“Was she the last one there?”
“No, we left together.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, I took her home. Tell Rita I called.”
“All right. Thanks. I’ll tell Rita to get in touch.” She sat back down in a daze, her hands pressing her chest.
“What was that about?” Barry asked. “What’s the matter? Did he get out of line?”
“No, no worse. Let me catch my breath.”
“What is it?”
“He said he took Eva home from the party. Gina was crying when they left. The back door slammed as they were going out the front, but he didn’t know who came in. He thought it was one of the kids.”
“If Gina was alive when Eva left, then she could have committed suicide.”
“No, I don’t believe that. She keeps telling me she wouldn’t leave her boys. It has to have been Eva. Maybe she came back.”
“You have those papers you put together. Let’s take them to the tribal police and see what they think.”
She wrote a note to Rita: Call Gerald. Then they left for the tribal office.
It was small compared to the Reno Police Station. The receptionist’s desk was right inside the entrance. The department had cement floors which were scrubbed clean. Folding chairs sat against the wall. Barry gave the receptionist their name and the time of their appointment.
They’d just sat down when the tribal police chief came out into the lobby. “Good afternoon. I take it you’re the Davises. I’m Chief Thomas.” Sunny noticed his name plate: Chief Dan Thomas.
They shook hands. He was at least six feet tall, with golden brown skin, short black hair, a starched brown uniform with a brass badge, and shiny black shoes. He led them into his office and motioned for them to have a seat. “I understand this is about Mrs. Gina Wilson’s death. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How are you related to Mrs. Wilson?”
“Gina was my best friend; like a sister or daughter. I picked her up from her foster home and brought her to live with my family the day she aged out. Her eighteenth birthday. I’m an investigator for the Department of Social Services in San Francisco, and my husband, Barry, is a probation officer.”
“I’m glad to meet you. You told my secretary you have something very important regarding Mrs. Wilson’s death.”
Sunny took out her notebook, the cardboard with glued-on papers, and Jessie’s shirt.
“You know, Mrs. Davis, we’ve already closed this case as a suicide. I know when this happens it’s hard for family and friends to accept it.”
“I understand that, Chief, but I want to give you what I have found. I also want to address what a neighbor overheard outside the Wilson home. A BIA agent came out and told another agent, ‘As long as we say it’s a suicide we don’t have to do the legwork. Then that’s it. Besides, it’s only an Indian.’ The neighbor asked the agent’s name. It was Lyle.”
“Hmm … yeah, I know him. Okay, Mrs. Davis, show me why you believe it wasn’t a suicide.”
“First, I want to tell you exactly how things happened.”
Chief Thomas had his secretary hold all calls. “Before we begin, would you like coffee?”
Barry stood. “No thank you. If you don’t mind I’ll go outside and have a smoke.”
“None for me, thanks.” Sunny sat back and folded her hands on her lap. “When we came to Gina’s home, her sister, Evil Eva we call her, was showing the ceiling where brain matter and hair was stuck.”
Chief Thomas grimaced. “I’ve known Jesse Wilson since he was a little guy. And I’ve known Eva Marshall for years. I shouldn’t say so, but that’s a good name for her … Fits.” He chuckled. “Sorry.”
“Anyway, Gina’s husband, Jesse, explained that they’d had an all-day party at the house. He left because Gina and Eva were arguing. Eva kept bullying Gina into drinking more and more …” Sunny let her voice trail off. “Jesse said he left and went down to his cousin’s—you know, Louis, aka Moochie. He says he didn’t know anything ’til the neighbor, Frank Allen, came and got him.”
Chief Thomas picked up a pencil and wrote as Sunny talked. “Yeah, I know Frank. Good guy, him and his wife.”
“Okay. The main thing was, I bumped into the wastebasket in the bathroom and tiny torn-up pink papers fell out of a tissue. Something drew me to those papers. I can’t explain it, but it did.” She shrugged. “Well, I could explain it, but it’s not necessary right now.”
She straightened and went on. “I put the papers in my pocket and told no one. I looked in her medicine cabinet; there were sleeping pills. And Jesse had a handgun under a floorboard. She would never use a rifle. She hated pain and despised guns. We went to the mortuary and I noticed an Indian burn on Gina’s arm. Her skin was rubbed off, as if someone had held her arm down.”
Barry came into the office and sat.
“I understand how you feel, Mrs. Davis, but that doesn’t prove anything.”
“Wait. Afterward, things started happening to my daughter and me, which we believe Eva did. Our car was rammed, over and over. And the front of hers is banged-up. I bet if you examine it you’ll find paint that matches my rental car. Then there’s the hang-ups. We get hang-up calls all the time. Jesse caught her using his phone and putting it down real quick when he came into the room. He said she looked guilty. My daughter was sent a florist’s box of dead roses. The clerk at the florist’s shop gave a perfect description of Eva as its purchaser. Also, after we saw Eva and her friend in the casino, my daughter’s tires were slashed in the casino parking garage. A witness described two people who looked like Eva and her friend.”
“Those are quite a few coincidences. Did you file a report about all this?” Chief Thomas asked.
Barry looked at Sunny, then Chief Thomas. “Yes, she did. In addition, there were the B&Es—breaking and entering. Both my daughter’s house and her beauty shop were broken into and ransacked. I came home from dinner early and someone was in the house. They had cut the lights so I didn’t see anyone, but the house reeked of that cheap perfume Eva always wears.”
“Was anything taken? Were you hurt?”
“Nothing taken. I must have surprised them. I was knocked to the floor, so I guess it’s an assault and battery too. But I’m all right. Jesse said Eva was at his house that night and had her arms around him and rubbed up against him. She was drunk so he sent her home, but she left him stinking of her perfume.” She reached in her purse and pulled out Jesse’s shirt. “Barry, would you get the cardboard out of the trunk, please?”
“Yes, I understand your reasoning.” The chief handed the shirt back. “But I can’t see where any of this has to do with Mrs. Wilson’s death.”
“You’ll see. I took a lot of time putting those little pieces of paper together. I want to show you what I have. First, Gina left a letter, but there are different stories about it, depending on who you talk to. Jesse tells one story and Gina’s coworker, Victor John, another. Jesse said she wanted peace; she was tired of fighting. I’m paraphrasing, but according to him, she said nothing about a divorce in the note. When Victor John told me what she told him, the papers made more sense.”
Barry came in, bringing the cardboard with the pink bits of paper glued on. He laid it on the chief’s desk. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Do you still have Gina’s letter?” Sunny asked the tribal policeman. “Jesse said your officers took it.”
“I don’t know. The BIA handles those things. I’ll check.” He went out to talk with his secretary.
A few minutes later he came back with a paper in his hand. “The BIA has the original. We’ve got a copy
, though, if that’ll help. Now, why don’t you show me what you have there?”
Sunny took the note with shaking hands. “My God, these are the last words she wrote on earth. Oh, Gina, I’m so sorry.”
“Mrs. Davis. Do you want to go ahead? I see this is hard on you.”
“I’m okay. Let me show you the letter and what I put together … how I think it was done.”
She laid the letter out flat. Goose bumps rose on her arms when she spotted a couple of droplets that looked like dried blood on the paper. It read:
Jesse—
I’m sorry, but I can’t take the fighting and drinking and cheating anymore.
I want and need peace. If this is the only way I can get peace, then it’s what I am going to do.
Sunny pointed, “See the line on the paper under that sentence?” Tears slid down her cheeks as she leaned over the desk. The chief handed her a tissue. “Let me show you what I have.”
The pink papers stood out against the board. The torn pieces, big, small, and tiny, all fitted together.
Sunny read:
I’m taking the boys and getting a divorce.
The chief looked stunned. “You got all of that out of those papers?”
“Yes. Do you see where it could have been cut evenly across the paper and left to look like a suicide note?” She pointed at the line dividing Gina’s words.
“Hmm … maybe. It might be enough for us to go question Eva and Jesse. We’ll see what they have to say.”
Sunny and Barry stood and shook hands with the chief. “Thank you for taking the time to see us.”
Sunny felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. She sighed in relief. “Yes, finally they’re going to arrest Eva. I know she did it.”
“What about what Gerald said? That he took Eva home? And they heard the back door slam?”
“He had to be mistaken. Maybe he was drinking. I’m so glad it’s over.”
“Don’t be too sure. It ain’t over ’til it’s over … and someone is convicted, babe.”
“Well, I am sure. Let’s go by the salon. Have Rita invite Victor for dinner.”
Barry kept the car running while Sunny ran in to tell Rita all that had transpired.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The policemen drove down the gravel road to Eva’s house. Two officers marched up the stairs and knocked at her door. No one was home.
MEANWHILE, A FEW MILES AWAY …
Eva knocked several times on Jesse’s door, then let herself in. Boomer met her just inside, wagging his tail and rubbing his head on her thigh. She set her purse on the hall table, walked into the bedroom, and sat on the edge of Jesse’s bed as he slept. The window shade was drawn. His shirt and Levi’s were thrown over the back of the chair, boxer shorts and socks were heaped on it. Dusty boots were before the chair, one upright, the other on its side. His dresser was cluttered with keys, coins, crumpled receipts, a half-eaten Snickers bar, a screwdriver, and pair of pliers.
She waited patiently, watching him, smiling, listening to him snore. Boomer lay curled at the foot of the bed, watching her.
Jesse rolled over and rubbed his eyes, then bolted to an upright position. “What the hell! What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”
“I knocked, but you didn’t answer, so …” She shrugged. “I used my key.”
“What key? I took my key away from you.”
She smirked. “Nope, I had extras made. In case you need me here in an emergency.” She walked around the bed and straightened his blanket. “I mean to be prepared.”
“Damn you, Eva.” He slapped her hands. “I don’t want you here.”
“Oh, I think you’ll change your mind. We are meant to be together. Always were. I’m willing to overlook that mistake you made with Gina.”
“I married the best sister. It was no mistake. I loved her. You’re too crazy for me.”
“How can you say that after all I’ve done for you?”
“You’ve done nothing for me but be an arrow in my side.”
“Now that Gina is gone we can be together. I can help you raise the boys. But you need to leave Rita alone. Then it can be you and me, like it used to be.”
“Those feelings, such as they were, are dead. Dead, like your sister. Get it?” He balled his hands into fists. “What’s this shit about me and Rita?”
“I know all about you and Rita. Sneaking around behind Gina’s back.”
“You’re batshit crazy, Eva. Never happened. Rita was a little sister to Gina. We flirted, but it was hands-off.”
“Yeah, well, I’m Gina’s big sister, and that didn’t stop you from banging me every time you got a chance.”
Jesse just shook his head and mumbled, “Batshit crazy.”
She shrugged. “Anyway, I followed you. I saw you bury the gun in the back lot.”
“So what? Gina used a rifle. There’s no goddamn law against me burying my pistol. I didn’t want to use that gun, ever again.”
“I told you, didn’t I? Maybe you can’t understand how I helped you. I’ve been calling and hanging up on Rita and Sunny. And I rammed into the back of their car. I sent dead roses to Rita, and then I went to Rita’s salon and tore it up, all for you. I saw you go into her house and watched you looking for … whatever.”
“What’s this all-for-you crap? I don’t want you to do nothing for me. Ever.”
“I wanted to help you … confuse them … to take the blame off you. Wasn’t that a great idea?”
“Eva, you’re plain wacko. They’d blame you, not me. Sunny already knows it’s you. Now get out and stay out!”
“No, I wanted them to get so scared they’d leave Reno and quit bothering us. The day of the party I saw you throw some scraps of paper in the garbage can outside. I took the pieces out and tore them into even smaller pieces. I threw them in a different wastebasket, in the bathroom. See how I helped you, Jesse? I meant to go back and get them. But …”
“What? Why? You got this all wrong. I haven’t done anything.”
“I wanted to help you, so we could be together. We don’t need a big wedding, we can have a small one, or maybe we’ll go with the boys to the justice of the peace. One of them can be best man, or whatever they call it. My friend at work can stand up for me. Or maybe I should ask Rita.” She threw her head back and laughed maniacally.
Jesse swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared at her, jaws agape. “Get this through your thick skull,” he shouted. “We don’t need any wedding, any size, anytime, anyplace.”
Eva’s face scrunched up in misery.
His mind went back to the time Rita told him her mom was putting papers together. Could Sunny have found them? If she did, they weren’t in her house so he didn’t think she kept them.
“Holy shit, Eva! What have you done?”
“I love you, Jesse,” she sobbed. “I just wanted to help you. Gina’s gone. No one is in our way. She was going to divorce you. I’ll never leave you, ever.”
“Listen to me, Eva. For the last time, get this though your shit-for-brains head.” He raised his voice. “I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. If you and I were the only people on this planet, I still would not friggin’ want you. Get it?” he roared. “Now get out!”
Tears ran down her cheeks and into her mouth. She stood there, chin on her chest, arms against her sides. Mumbling, she turned and stumbled into the hall to get her purse from the table. “I gave him so many chances,” she whispered.
“If I can’t have him …” She pulled a .22 pistol out of her purse and turned back toward him. In the doorway of his room she pointed it at Jesse, just as he looked up. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open.
“What the hell … ? Where’d you get my gun?”
“I told you, I saw everything you did. Everything. I dug it up.” She giggled. “For you, Jesse, for you. We were meant to be together. I’ve waited for you, all these years. After all I’ve done for you, how can you treat me this way?”
He stood beside his bed. “Crazy bitch! Get out of my house.”
Eva wiped her eyes with her left arm. She kept the gun trained on Jesse with her right hand. “I gave you so many chances. I kept quiet for you. I covered for you. But now it’s over. If I can’t have you, nobody’s going to have you.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard and lunged for her. “Remember, I love you.” She shot him. The sound echoed through the house.
Blood spurted from his midsection and ran down his legs. Eva’s bullet had found its mark in his stomach. He fell back onto the bed. She grabbed her purse from the table and left the house. A high-pitched scream emanated from her as she stumbled to her car.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
IN THE MEANTIME …
Officer Long from the Reno police called the tribal police. “Hello, Chief Thomas? We need an escort to the home of one of your residents. We’re looking for Eva Marshall. Need to talk to her.” He explained the situation. “We understand she spends a lot of time at the home of a Mr. Jesse Wilson. We’re on our way there now.”
“My officers and I will meet you there.”
As the Reno police and tribal police cars pulled up, Eva sat in her car weeping convulsively, taking in huge shuddering gulps of air, not bothering to wipe away her tears and snot. Through her open window they heard, “I killed him. I loved him and I killed him.”
Quickly calling for backup, Chief Thomas sent an officer to Eva’s car to talk to her. Then the chief hurried past her and into the house.
The cop approached her car. “Ma’am, are you Eva Marshall?”
Without answering she picked up the gun from the seat beside her. She raised it and pressed the barrel to her temple. Before he could stop her, Eva pulled the trigger. Thick red blood splattered over the car seat and dashboard, some landing on the officer’s uniform. She slumped over, the .22 in her hand.
Chief Thomas heard the single gunshot. He’d found Jesse on the bed, blood oozing from a bullet wound in his abdomen, but still breathing. Thomas used his shoulder mic to call for paramedics. He grabbed a sheet from Wilson’s bed to stop the bleeding, and applied pressure. Sirens screamed as patrol cars squealed into the driveway. An ambulance pulled up and three EMTs jumped out. One raced to open the back of the ambulance and yanked out the gurney.
Whispers in the Wind Page 23