by Alex Harris
Chapter 15
Fred met up with Oriole at the office to compare notes.
“Ms. Richards is a piece of work. Very circumspect in her information. Let’s take the information from Phil, the ME and Richards and make a time line. What did you find out?”
“Lisa had her purse that morning. Betty didn’t see her car. No idea where the check is.”
“That check. Let’s see if any of the banks have a separate account for Mason, see if that check found its way into his pocket. I’ll write up a subpoena and search warrant.”
Phil left the condo and searched for a pay phone. He wanted one that was not obvious, yet remote. The Safeway offered the first opportunity. He circled the parking lot watching customers coming and going and looking for tell tale signs of someone following him. He parked, went into the store and bought a pack of cigarettes. Slowly strolling outside, he meandered over to the pay phones. He leaned up against the closest and began un-wrapping the pack. Seeing nothing suspicious, he placed a call to Monique’s cell phone.
“Let’s get together. I’ll park my car on the street and you pull into the garage. Then close it, before coming into the house.” Phil started before she had a chance to speak.”
“There is a chance it wouldn’t be me answering, you idiot.” Venom dripped from her crimson mouth.
“Uhh, I didn’t think anyone else ever touched your phone.” Clearly, Phil was shaken by her response.
“You have to be more careful.” Her voice softened. “I’ll be over in 20 minutes.” Monique hung up, grabbed her purse and briefcase and left by the back entrance.
Frances took care of some urgent matters and closed her office. She was bone weary. It was just impossible to get through the day. She decided what she needed was a hot soak and a glass of wine. As she headed home, she let her thoughts drift to Lisa and their last meeting.
Driving into the condo lot, she glanced over at Lisa’s condo. A BMW had just pulled into the garage. A young, attractive blonde with legs forever stepped out and walked over to the back wall, hit the garage door closer and opened the door to the courtyard. As the garage door descended, Frances tried to process what she had just seen.
Monique opened the door to the kitchen. “That nosy friend of Lisa’s just drove by. I think she saw me. I won‘t stay long. It’s too dangerous. What‘s so urgent?”
“I just wanted to see you, to hold you for a minute. I’m sorry about our last phone call. I’m just stressed out.”
“Listen. We’re okay. Just don’t do or say anything stupid. I told them I couldn’t remember the time you arrived at the office on Wednesday. So keep to that story. What else has happened?”
“They came with a search warrant and took a bunch of files. That’s it.”
Monique moved closer, put her arms around Phil and kissed him gently. “It’s going to be all right. Just don’t lose your head. I gotta go. I don’t want that bitch to cause us trouble. Have you talked to her?”
“What bitch, who?”
“Lisa’s friend who lives down the way.”
“You mean Frances? No she hasn’t been by. But I’m sure she will. They were real close. If Frances wasn’t here, Lisa was over there. They were joined at the hip. She‘s just an old lady. She‘s harmless.”
“Be careful around her okay. I’ll talk to you later. Did you get that phone I told you to get?”
“Not yet. I haven’t had time. I’ll get it later.”
Monique left the kitchen, peeked around the courtyard fence to see if anyone was watching, punched the garage door opener, sped to her car and left rapidly.
Frances ran up the stairs into the guest bedroom which looked out over the parking lot. She carefully pulled back the drapes just enough to peek out and keep watch on Lisa’s condo. She didn’t have long to wait. The garage door opened and the BMW swiftly left. Frances couldn’t see the license plate, but made mental note of the color of the car and the woman driving.
Frances puzzled over the surreptitious manner the woman used in coming and going. Maybe it was time to take Phil a casserole. Frances left the guestroom, trucked downstairs, forgetting about the hot soak, and began putting together a tuna casserole.
Frances wrapped the hot casserole in a cozy, put it in a box, left her condo and walked over to Lisa’s. In her mind, it would always be Lisa’s condo, never Phil’s.
“Hi, Phil. I just wanted to drop off this casserole. I imagine it’s been a bit chaotic for you. I bet you haven’t eaten anything for days. Have any of the neighbors brought anything by? Did that young lady drop off something for you?” Frances stood in the doorway looking around trying not to be obvious. She saw no casseroles or bags of food in the kitchen.
“Frances, how nice. I was just leaving. I’ve got an appointment. That young lady is my new boss and she was just checking to see how I was doing. Thank you for the casserole. I’ll get the dish back tomorrow.” Phil was all but pushing her out the door as he grabbed his keys and cell phone.
“Well, I saw your car on the street and her car in the garage. I thought it might be Lisa’s daughter come to visit.”
“It is sweet of you to take notice. Gerri and Bobby are coming in this next week sometime. They aren’t sure when. Now I really have to go.”
“Before you leave, I feel I should let you know Lisa gave me some documents for safe keeping.” Frances looked up at Phil to gauge his reaction, with an inward smile.
“What kind of documents?” On the alert now, Phil stopped his forward progress.
“Why, I don’t know. I just put them in a safe place for whenever she wanted them. I would never look at someone else’s mail.” Frances enjoyed the panic that rose on Phil’s face. She smiled mischievously and turned to leave.
“Wait, Frances, maybe I should take those papers. They might be important. I should probably turn them over to the attorney. Why don’t I go back to your place and you get them for me.” Phil tried his charm on her.
“Oh, it’s all right. I’ll just hang on to them until Ms. Sharpe or the police ask for them. No need to trouble yourself. You better get on with your appointment.” Frances opened the gate and let herself out.
She all but ran home, slammed the door and ran upstairs to the guest bedroom. She pulled aside the drapes and stood back in the shadows watching for Phil’s departure completely pleased with her actions.
Even though the floor plan was identical to every other one in the complex, Frances’ condo exuded her personal preferences. The western motif started in the entry and carried throughout the house. Warm desert colors covered the walls, floors, and ceilings. Trujillo portraits hung in the hallway. A huge longhorn cowhide invited visitors to the living room. Over the mantel, hung her grandfather’s original Remington that once a month she took down to polish and clean. On top of the mantel, stood three signed Navajo bowls. Next to the front door on the wall rested Frances’ late husband’s’ sweat stained cowboy hat. Right next to the hat, a coiled up riata waited for the wrangler who would never return. The only incongruous item in her house was the dog bed sitting next to the Arcadia doors. A doggy door allowed her little Jack Russell to come and go into her postage stamp sized, completely enclosed back yard. Jackie took her job seriously as protector and watchdog, scaring away stray cats, arguing with blue birds, alerting to strangers in the gully behind the condo. Frances’ companion since her husband’s death, Jackie ran the place, and for Frances it was a welcome relief to know that Jackie would let her know if someone opened the courtyard gate or walked up the sidewalk.
Having accomplished what she set out to do, which was put Phil off, Frances took her hot soak with a glass of wine. It had been perversely fun watching his face knowing he was concerned about the documents. Finishing her bath, she dressed and left her condo and headed out for an appointment.