A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) (8 page)

CHAPTER 7

Sunday morning Jessica rolled out of bed early
.  Before she could think too much about it she donned a swim suit and robe, grabbed a towel and dashed into the kitchen.  The house was quiet. She could hear stirring from the wing of house in which Bernadette’s room was located.  Bernadette was probably getting ready for church.  Getting to an early Mass on Sunday at St. Theresa’s was a treasured ritual for her. More than that, it was a “holy day of obligation” as she pointed out to Jessica too many times to count. 

Jessica had
been baptized and confirmed as a Catholic at St. Theresa’s where she ended up once she was kicked out of private school.  Her parents were ready to ship her off to a boarding school until Bernadette intervened suggesting they try a local Catholic School instead.  Somehow Bernadette had prevailed. Agnostic, though they were, the idea of Catholic school rankled against their episcopal roots.

Jessica was on board with Bernadette’s idea as soon as she discovered her parents were opposed to it
.  She carried that defiance with her to school, determined to make a go of it, hoping to irritate her parents further.  Beneath the adolescent set of her jaw was fear she harbored at the thought of being sent away. Despite the tensions between her parents, and her conflict with them, the Coachella Valley was home. Once she got to St. Theresa’s she hit it off right away with Kelly and Laura and a couple other girls. They were Catholic so she became a Catholic.

Moved more by the need to fit in than by any strong religious feelings Jessica nevertheless foun
d comfort in the beauty of the Mass. The ritual and repetition appealed to her anxious nature and the prospect of an omnipotent being was comforting in the face of uncertainty provoked by her parents’ divorce.  Even all the rules were tolerable. They gave her a sense of being bounded when she felt out of control. She was often afraid and enraged at a world turned upside down by grown-ups who made decisions she did not understand.   

Jessica went to M
ass on a regular basis while in high school but drifted away once she left for college.  If asked, she would assert that spirituality remained important to Jessica the college coed, but organized religion was just so rigid. “The Church” was so repressive toward women, so stuffy about sexuality. She was particularly incensed by how obsessed the patriarchal hierarchy seemed with controlling women’s bodies that she felt a little self-righteous about
not
going to Mass.  The quagmire of abortion rights dominated discussions with many of the practicing Catholics she knew. Those conversations made it difficult to focus on things that motivated Jessica and attracted her to Catholicism. Things like concerns about justice and equality, a penchant for coming to the aid of the displaced and downtrodden, and reaching out to those who were marginalized or lost altogether.

A wave of déjà vu struck her. H
ere she was again contending with the disorientation of divorce, her life on tilt. In a fit of nostalgia she considered going to Mass with Bernadette.  The thought of all she had to do for Laura brought her back to her senses quickly. 

At least she had beat Bernadette to the punch and had first crack at making coffee
.  In a matter of minutes, ten to be exact, she had ground the coffee beans and put them through the French press. She poured herself a large cup and put the rest in the thermal carafe.  Then she took another cup from the cupboard and filled it with coffee for Bernadette, adding milk to cool it down. She headed to Bernadette’s en suite and knocked gently on the door. 

“Yes?” Bernadette asked.

“I brought you some coffee if you have time to drink it before you leave for Mass.”

Bernadette opened the door
. “Bless you, niña, gracias,” she said taking the cup in both hands and sipping it cautiously. “Perfect, Jessica.  You’re up early, que te pasa?”

“Oh, lots to do today, Bernadette, and I wanted to get in a swim first
.  What about you, do you have plans after church?”

“No, nothing today
. I’ll be home in a couple hours.  If you need me to do something for you or for Laura I’m glad to help.  Or I could help you finish unpacking?”

Jessica gulped. “I take it you’ve seen my closet.”

“Just a peek when I was in there yesterday and had to kick those boys out,” she said with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Well, now I know your special powers include x-ray
vision,” Jessica said ruefully. She tried to imagine how any normal person could see the disarray in her closet from the doorway into her room.

“I appreciate the offer, but bringing order from the chaos in that room is definitely on my list. It’s one reason I’m up so early.  Drive carefully, St. Bernadette.” Jessica leaned over, smooched Bernadette on her cheek then headed back down the hall to the kitchen.

If she was serious about saving her sanity and restoring her physical stamina it was time to take the plunge
, literally.  Swimming had been an easy way to stay fit as she was growing up. It was something she could do year-round in the desert.  The saltwater pool, heated in the winter, needed no help in the summer.  Some folks even added chillers to their pools to cool it down in the summer. Early morning, the water was plenty inviting. At this hour she didn’t even need to turn on the patio misters since the desert’s low humidity made it comfortable outdoors even in the 80s or 90s. 

The morning was lovely
.  A hint of desert potpourri was borne aloft on the morning breeze.  That scent meant “home” to Jessica and was one of the many things she loved about the desert. She took comfort from the toasty mix of sunbaked mesquite, desert sage and lavender. The scent was often spiked by ornamental rosemary widely used as a decorative shrub in the area. Sometimes, especially after rain in the desert or the nearby mountains, the tangy odor of creosote flooded the world around you, a fragrance Jessica loved even though not everyone shared her approbation. 

She sat down and sipped her coffee, taking in the views of the golf course and the mountains
.  She could see both Mt. San Jacinto and Mt. San Gorgonio, which sat on opposite sides of I-10.
“The 10”
to most Californians, ran between the two peaks. It  marked the wind-beaten pass leading from the valley, west to L.A., all the way to the Pacific Ocean.  One of the most consistently windy places on the planet the pass was host to an increasing number of wind farms. The fields of whirligigs spun, feeding southern California’s insatiable need for electricity. 

She peeled an
orange and ate it, savoring the sweetness of the fruit and the morning. A couple golf carts went whizzing by in the distance. Diehard devotees of the game, determined to beat the heat, could get in 18 holes before ten a.m.  Time to get a move on. Before getting wet she needed to retrieve her computer and cell phone. She headed back to her room, entering through the sliders from the patio rather than going back through the house.  She picked up the computer and phone from beside the bed and fished around in the drawer of her nightstand finding an old pair of sunglasses and a pair of swimming goggles.  She had newer versions of both in her dressing room, but that would mean going in
there
and she wasn’t ready to face that yet this morning.  She glanced over to make sure the door to the room was closed then headed back out through the sliders to the patio.

Once out on the patio she arranged her things quickly
.  Putting on the goggles, she did a few quick stretches then, dove head first into the warm embrace of the clear water.  Almost immediately, she fell into a rhythm that propelled her toward the opposite end of the pool, doing several easy laps with short breaks.  She continued to do sets of laps and pondered the work ahead, trying to quell the anxious feeling that hovered like a cloud.  Picking up the pace, she concentrated on her stroke and counted laps.  After about a half hour she was spent. The swim had taken the edge off the anxiety, and she definitely felt more centered and focused.

Finally, bolstered by more caffeine, she picked up the
computer and set about organizing her day. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. She looked over the notes she had made the night before and decided to start with a few phone calls. 

First, she called Laura to fill her in on her conversation with Paul
.  Less panicky than yesterday, Laura was subdued. “Numb, more than anything else” was how she put it when Jessica asked how she was doing.  Jessica took the opportunity to make another plug for Paul’s firm, pitching his track record as a defense attorney.

“He agrees there’s no reason to believe you need his services at this point,” Jessica added.

Jessica reminded Laura that she intended to go to the house. If the police weren’t still at the scene warding folks off, she would go through the office and pretty much clean it out. Taking everything related to business or personal finance home with her, she would go through it all systematically. 

“Thanks, Jessica,”
Laura said after reviewing the list of things Jessica was going to pick up for her at the house. “Could you add my black dress to the list? It’s hanging in my closet, toward the back, still in the plastic, dry cleaner bag.  And my black leather pumps, Jessica. I’m going to need those shoes for Roger’s funeral. That’s assuming I get around to making the arrangements to bury my dead husband.”

Jessica wanted to ask her
again about Eric, but she seemed worn out so quickly, Jessica didn’t have the heart to pursue it.  Later, when she dropped off her things, she would ask if Laura had come up with a last name. They agreed Jessica would drop by late afternoon, before dinner when things got crazy at her sister Sara’s house. 

Next J
essica decided to call Tommy’s uncle, Don Fontana.  Even though Sergeant Fontana worked for the Palm Spring police department he was her best bet to get the inside scoop on the investigation.  At the very least, he could tell her how to go about getting information at this point.  She scanned the list of contacts on her smartphone to see if she still had his number. On a Sunday morning, she was more likely to catch him at home than at the station. 

Feeling a little guilty
, she realized it had been some time since she had called him or his wife, “Aunt Evelyn.”  She had an old number for them both. Low and behold, when she pressed the number, it rang. 

“Hello,” a woman answered the phone.

“Evelyn? Aunt Evelyn, is that you? This is Jessica, Jessica Huntington-Harper. You know, Jessica Huntington?”  She was babbling.  This last name thing was starting to grate.

“Jessica, it’s so good to hear from you
. How are you?”

“I’m okay,
I guess.”

“
That’s good. How are your parents?”

“They’re both doing well
.  Mom’s in Monaco with her new husband, on an extended honeymoon.  I get postcards with updates about their travels.  I saw dad in LA a couple weeks ago. He’s been spending a lot of time in Singapore and Hong Kong, working on some sort of development project in China.  He seems pretty excited about it. He was sort of floundering around for a while with real estate in such a hopeless state here.  To tell you the truth he was more upbeat than he’s been in a couple years so that’s good.”

“Well I’m glad they’re okay
. I don’t think we’ve seen either of them in several years. It’s been at least a couple years since we saw you last, am I right?”

“Yes, you’re right Aunt Evelyn. I think the last time I visited was that barbeque for Frank’s promotion to detective.”  Evelyn and Don’s son had followed in his father’s footsteps, becoming a police officer in Riverside County which encompassed the desert cities. He actually worked for the county Sherriff’s Department in the city of Riverside, an hour or so away. 

She was afraid to ask how he was doing
.  The entire county was so hard hit by the housing debacle that lots of cities and towns were still trying to balance their budgets.  Her best friend Kelly’s cousin, Frank had been a couple years ahead of them both in school.  He and Laura’s sister Sara were in the same cohort.  Frank knew exactly what he wanted to do and went straight from high school to UC Riverside, got a degree in sociology with a focus on criminology and then went into the police officer training academy.  His parents were so proud when he was promoted to detective a few years ago. That was not an easy thing to do under any circumstances, but even more impressive in the wake of the Great Recession. 

“Yes, that’s right
.  We were so relieved when he got that promotion. He worked so hard and wanted it so much.  He put everything into that job. Unfortunately it took a toll on his marriage. He and Mary broke up a while back. Not that it’s the main reason they split. Anyway, that’s been hard on us. We’ve always liked her and then there are the kids.  It’s been even harder on them.  We try to reassure Evie and Frankie that they’re going to be okay.  Frank and Mary have been good about not taking out their differences on them.”

“I guess
that’s some consolation. I’ve told you this before, but you and Uncle Don were so important to me when my parents divorced.  Frank and Mary are lucky their children have you in their lives.”