A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) (7 page)

BOOK: A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery)
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CHAPTER 5

 

 

As soon as she got home and put the groceries away Jessica felt more settled
.  One of the good things that came from her stint as a desperate housewife in Cupertino was the realization that there’s a certain amount of comfort in carrying out domestic chores.  She also acquired a much greater appreciation for how dull and repetitive such duties could be and how much work it really took to run a household, even with help.

Of course, she never had the likes of a Bernadette to help her in Cupertino
. She felt sorry for all the times she had taken Bernadette for granted. What a little ingrate she had been. It had never occurred to her to volunteer to help, and she routinely gave both Bernadette and her mother a hard time about the few small chores delegated to her. She flashed on the current chaos in her closet and vowed to get to it before Bernadette could see it. 

By the end of her second year of domesticity, Jessica had become a reasonably good cook
. Unfortunately, she was often too nauseated from being pumped full of fertility drugs or her short-lived pregnancies to enjoy it. She managed to eat, though. Enough to pack on the extra padding she still carried.  No matter, she was turning over a new leaf, no more binges of any kind.  It was time to get back on track, to eat right, get enough sleep, and establish a routine that included exercise. She did not want to let Laura down and didn’t want to cause Bernadette anymore worry.

“I’ll drink to that,” she said aloud, as she opened a 2004 Marcassin from
the Three Sisters vineyard, chilled in the fridge.  She’d cleaned out the wine cellar when she left the Cupertino house.  Mostly out of spite, but also because the wine was a symbol of happier times she wanted to hold onto.  Enjoying wine together had been one of those things that started out as an adventure. Despite their insanely busy schedules, she and Jim had spent some wonderfully romantic weekends in the wine country. Those were tender moments stolen from their increasingly demanding professional lives. 

Opening the wine, Jessica was carried back to those lazy mornings she and Jim spent in bed, making love with abandon
. Then lounging, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Afternoons were spent cycling amid lush, rolling hills covered in a patchwork of vineyards. The hills were studded by quaint farmhouses and stunning vintner’s estate homes. They roamed from one tasting room to another, discovering one great wine after another.  Jessica wasn’t exactly sure when things changed. At some point, though, the wines they found on these excursions switched from cherished mementos of intimate escapes to commodities worthy of investment. 

Jessica got two glasses from the cupboard and poured a little wine into one of them
. Out of habit she swirled the wine in the glass, and took a whiff.  A hint of burnt caramel and something tropical burst upon her.  Similar flavors rolled over her tongue as she took a sip, along with notes of citrus and oak in a buttery texture. It was as wonderful as she remembered, sans the romance.  She filled the glasses, and set about making a salad.

She hacked off a chunk of bread from the crusty artisanal multigrain loaf she bought at Trader Joe’s and took a bite
.  It was wonderful too.  She felt pretty pious about that fact that it was also healthy.  She was ravenous.  Jessica could barely remember eating that sandwich at Laura’s.  She must have because she had returned to Sara’s kitchen with an empty plate.  She took another bite of bread and then set off toward the wing that housed the suite used by Bernadette, wine in hand.

“Bernadette, I poured some wine, you want a glass?  How about having a salad with me for dinner?” 

Bernadette opened the door and took a slightly awkward step from her room, stopping to stretch her tiny frame. “It’s no fun getting old. Wine sounds good, salad too. I can fix it.” She took the glass Jessica offered and headed for the kitchen, tucking a beautiful crystal rosary into the pocket of the pants she wore.

“Oh no you don’t!  It’s my turn to feed us,” Jessica said,
quickening her pace to get ahead of Bernadette.  “I bought some wonderful heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil.  It’ll only take a couple minutes to make a Caprese salad.  You can slice some bread for us if you want and set out some olive oil for dipping.”

That seemed to satisfy her urge to help
.  As Bernadette cut the bread, Jessica rinsed and sliced the big, odd-shaped heirloom tomatoes in yellow and red, arranging them on a plate for each of them, atop a bed of spring mix. She topped the tomatoes with slices of fresh mozzarella, and then added fragrant basil leaves.  After sprinkling a little kosher salt and grinding fresh pepper on the salads she finished them off with a drizzle of EVOO. 

Jessica took both salads from the counter where she was working
.  She set them on placemats Bernadette had laid out on the enormous island in the kitchen, along with napkins, forks and knives. She went back to her work area and retrieved a bowl of freshly washed berries, her wine glass and the open bottle of wine. She placed the fruit and wine between them on the island. Settling onto a bar stool next to Bernadette, Jessica refilled their glasses. 

“Cheers
!” she said holding her glass out.  Bernadette gave it a little clink.

“Thank you, Jessica
.” She took a sip of the wine then dug into her salad.  “Mm, que delicioso, niña,” she said after taking a couple bites.

“It’s one of my favorites,” Jessica said filling her mouth with salad, savoring the blend of fresh vibrant flavors
. They spent the next few minutes eating in silence, devouring the bread, salad, and berries. You could not beat the Coachella Valley when it came to fresh produce, a consolation during the hot summer months.  Abundant, fresh and affordable, she had no excuse not to eat well.

Bernadette rested her fork on her plate and looked at Jessica
.  “You feeling better than you did this morning?”

“Sort of, I guess
, yes.” Jessica paused from shoveling food into her mouth.  “I really am sorry about this morning and last night too.  I’m not as big an idiot as I seem to be.  I didn’t just walk out on my marriage for no reason, you know?”  Jessica choked up.  She took a big swig of the wine to clear her throat.

Bernadette reached over and patted her hand
.  “I know, Jessica.  You’re no fool.  And when you’re ready to tell me about it you will. You just got to be strong, you’ll get through this. But enough of the silly stuff like last night, okay?  That won’t help anything.” Jessica nodded solemnly wishing she could unburden herself to Bernadette about her marriage but she just couldn’t. 

Bernadette went back to eating then, turned toward her again
.  “By the way, Jessica, how’s Laura doing?”

“Laura’s in more trouble than I am, Bernadette
.  I want to help her but I don’t know if I can.” Tears were filling her eyes. “When you pray for me, say a prayer for her, too, okay?” 

Bernadette reached over and pulled Jessica toward her
.  Jessica leaned her head on Bernadette’s shoulder. It was her turn to sob like a baby.  It didn’t last long but it was a good cry, cleansing and healing. Without the bitterness or fury she had felt the last couple times she broke down. 

Bernadette took a little packet of tissues from her pocket and offered one to Jessica
.  Jessica accepted it gratefully, dabbing at her eyes and blowing her nose. Bernadette was a little teary too and took a tissue for herself. 

“You know what we need, Jessica?” Before J
essica could answer she exclaimed, “ice cream!”

In a flash that belied her earlier complaint about aging, Bernadette hopped off the bar stool, and headed to the kitchen sink, taking their dirty salad plates with her
.  She opened the freezer and pulled out a tub of Graeter’s cookie dough chip ice cream. An “Oprah-favorite” Jessica’s mother had it flown in before it became more widely available in local grocery stores.  Bernadette zapped the container in the microwave for a few seconds to make it easier to scoop and fixed two bowls.

Jessica sighed, vowing to initiate her get healthy plan tomorrow
.  Bernadette set down the ice cream then climbed back onto her seat at the kitchen island. The ice cream was worth every calorie, every gram of fat and every spoonful of sugar that made it so wickedly rich.  They polished off the ice cream right away, but spent the next half hour or so just chatting. Their conversation ambled as they talked about small, mundane things. Bernadette gossiped a little about the few neighbors around this time of the year in their gated enclave. Eventually, they had a good laugh about that moment when Bernadette had burst in on Tommy and Brien and Jessica that morning.

Bernadette spoke about the latest developments in her family
.  As far as Jessica knew, Bernadette’s family consisted of a married sister who lived just outside the valley near the Banning pass. Her sister had been married for nearly forty years, had four grown children, and had just become a grandmother for the eighth time. Bernadette kept track of important milestones. She had been present at many of the big events in the lives of her nieces and nephews including graduations, weddings, baby showers, and a lot of birthdays.  As the children grew older and started their own families they moved farther apart. She saw them less often, but at least a couple times a year the entire family congregated at her sister’s house in Beaumont, and Auntie Bernadette would be there. 

Listening to Bernadette tell about their latest accomplishments Jessica wondered again if Bernadette missed having a family of her own
.  Once when she was younger she had asked if Bernadette had ever been in love.  She had answered right away.

“Of course, Jessica
.”

“What was it like?”
Jessica pried, wide-eyed and serious. 

“Oh, it was wonderful
. The happiest time of my life.”

Jessica had been
unable to contain her excitement and blurted out a string of impertinent questions.

“So who was he?  Where is he now? Why aren’t you married? Didn’t you want to have a child like me?” Bernadette mad
e the sign of the cross and spoke nearly in a whisper. 

“His name was Guillermo and we were married, but for only a short time
. He was very handsome and a very kind husband. He was so handsome and so kind, in fact, that God called him to heaven when he was just barely a man.” Jessica was horrified and tried to tell her how sorry she was to pry into her past.

“Jessica, it’s okay
.  I was sad and angry but then God brought me to you and your mother. So you see? I do have a child, not just like you, but exactly and actually you.”

With that Jessica had hurled herself into Bernadette’s arms and was rewarded with a mighty hug
. Remembering that moment now, Jessica stepped down from her perch on the bar stool and wrapped her arms around Bernadette. 

“You do know I love you, don’t you?” Jessica asked.

“Claro que si! Of course, Jessica. I love you too, mi dulce princesa,” she said. She beamed at Jessica and gave her a peck on the cheek. The taint of the day’s tragic events, along with the remorse Jessica felt about her excesses and inadequacies, receded in the wake of that simple meal shared with a loved one. Jessica was transfixed by the transformative power of that moment.  She would be okay. Laura would be okay. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

 

Jessica spruced up the kitchen, said goodnight to Bernadette then, headed to her bedroom
. It was too late to tackle the maelstrom in her walk-in closet but she should take a crack at organizing her thoughts about Laura’s situation.  It might even be wise to hatch a plan of some kind about how best to use the time she had before her meeting with Paul on Tuesday.  Given his high opinion of her, she felt compelled to impress him. She’d settle for not making a total ass out of herself.

Jessica retrieved her laptop computer from the desk in her room, and propped herself up on the bed to work
. She created a file in which she made notes about all she had learned from Laura about the events surrounding Roger’s death. That didn’t take long, given how little she knew. Still it felt good to document what she could remember about Laura’s story.  She put together a timeline as best she could noting the last time Laura had seen Roger alive, the time she called to leave him a message, and  when she arrived back at her home that morning. Jessica made a guess at when Laura might have arrived and departed from Eric-the-waiter’s apartment.  She also outlined the sequence of events that followed Laura’s horrific discovery of her dead husband. That included the call to 911 for EMTs, police, the hospital and more police. Then her call to Sara and the return home to her sister’s house where she called Jessica for help. 

Jessica had pitifully little to go on when it came to figuring out how to proceed
.  Two things were most pressing.  First, figuring out where the authorities were in their investigation, including how they were looking at Laura. Was she a witness, person of interest, or a suspect?

Of course, all of that could turn on a dime, unless they had an
eyewitness who saw someone other than Laura at the house. Or they came upon a lead that pointed them away from Laura and toward someone else.  One of the questions the police had asked Laura was whether Roger had any enemies. The question had floored Laura who couldn’t even grasp what they were asking.  Roger, her Roger?  It was incomprehensible.  He had an occasional conflict with a client or subcontractor but she had never considered them enemies. And yet he was dead, murdered in his own home. Who could have hated him enough to kill him?

Laura believed the police had immediately begun to canvass the neighborhood
. There should be information from interviews conducted with Laura’s neighbors.  Perhaps, one of the nearby residents had seen or heard something that dreadful night, or morning, depending on when Roger was actually killed.

Jessica would make the rounds herself, knocking on doors to see what she could turn up
.  She especially wanted to have a conversation with the neighbors who had filed complaints about the fighting between Laura and Roger. They seemed to have an ear to the ground, so-to-speak.  Maybe Jessica would learn something useful.  It also couldn’t hurt to size them up as potential witnesses. Perhaps, for the prosecution, if this case ever went to trial with Laura as the accused. 

What Jessica really needed to know right away was the name of the investigating officer to whom the case had been assigned
. Cathedral City, like most cities in California and elsewhere, was having financial problems.  Layoff notices were planned for both police and firefighters, so it was hard to guess how assignments were being made these days.  In fact, Jessica had to admit she wasn’t even sure if the “Cat City” police had jurisdiction in this case. It might require a little snooping even to figure that out. 

She made a note to start by calling Tommy’s uncle Don
. He’d know how to cut through all the red tape and find out what was going on.  He could be a hard ass about rules, but he had known Laura for years. That might soften his heart enough that he would help out by asking a few questions of his colleagues.

Jessica would also stop by Laura’s house as she had promised
.  Visiting a crime scene was not something she imagined doing while hiding out in the desert from her owned shattered dreams.  It would take some fortitude given how gruesome it sounded after talking to Laura, but a promise is a promise.  Laura kept a spare key near the front door so Jessica would have no trouble letting herself in as long as the police had completed their investigation. 

Jessica made a list of the things she
and Laura needed from the house if the police had not removed them. In addition to his laptop and the important papers Laura had mentioned, Jessica wanted to pick up any mail delivered on Friday or Saturday, their checkbooks, receipts, invoices for work done in the last few months; contracts, fulfilled or unfulfilled, and Roger’s calendar, presuming he kept one.  Laura would have to go through all of these items to square things away with Roger’s business, to make funeral arrangements, pay bills and collect on Roger’s life insurance policy. 

Jessica wanted to give her a head start by gathering and organizing all of the documents and materials she could find
. There was always a chance something in his business dealings might provide a hint about his death. Jessica would also take a look at the contents of Roger’s laptop computer if it was there. Laura had made her best guess about what he used as a password.

Somebody would have to have the place cleaned before Laura
, or anyone else, for that matter, could live there.  She could help by finding someone to do the clean up as soon as possible.  In the meantime, Jessica hoped the police had left the air conditioning on. In the desert heat the scene would get rife quickly. She checked the list to be sure she wouldn’t miss anything. The thought of going back to the house a second time was as unappealing as making a trip there in the first place.

It
also made sense to do what she could to find this guy Eric.  She didn’t have a lot to go on. Eric had taken Laura to an apartment on Avenida Caballeros, from which the Villa Caballeros complex took its name. The location was not too far from the downtown Palm Springs restaurant where they had eaten dinner and where Eric worked as a waiter.  Laura couldn’t remember the apartment number but had given Jessica a pretty good description of its location in the complex. It was close to the parking lot, on the first floor, just a few feet from the community pool. Laura couldn’t recall Eric’s last name. That fact had set off another bout of shame and embarrassment but she promised to think about it. They did know where Eric worked so Jessica might be able to get a last name from his employer.  Or maybe Tommy or Brien knew who he was. 

Laura had taken a cab home the next morning
. The cab company should have some kind of record revealing when and where they picked Laura up. Laura paid by credit card so the credit card company should be able to provide information about the date and time of the transaction, too. That might be quicker even than trying to locate the cab company info.  Jessica felt satisfied she had a number of strategies to verify Laura’s movements, bolstering her claim that she was elsewhere when Roger was murdered.

She had a lot to do between now and her Tuesday lunch
.  Jessica’s mind wandered back again to her phone call from Paul Worthington.  She wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he remembered her so clearly. What about that article? She hadn’t thought about that in years.

An image of Paul from law school floated back to her.  Tall, light-brown hair and striking blue eyes, always meticulously groomed and dressed in expensive-looking clothes.  Casually elegant was the notion that came to mind.  Nothing like the Silicon Valley jeans, hoodie, and high-end tennis shoe crowd she gravitated toward. 

Jessica let out a huge sigh as her mind shifted
from Paul to Jim. Jim with his deep brown eyes and dark hair. She could see him standing in the kitchen, making their morning coffee in his pajama bottoms and bare feet. His hair tousled and still too sleepy to have his “game face” on. A little thrill coursed through her. Even now, as he sported bespoke suits and Italian shoes, she ached for the old Jim. The one who wanted to change the world, not own it. Jessica could feel a wave of tears heading her way and decided to call it quits for the night. It had been a long day. She got ready for bed as quickly as she could, slid between the satiny sheets. The moment her head touched the pillow, she plunged into oblivion. In her dreams she searched for someone she had lost.

 

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