A Line To Murder (A Puget Sound Mystery) (31 page)

“Like I’ve been duking it out with the jaws of life.”

“Me too.”

Betty Haines blew on her coffee, took a sip and put the cup down. “I’ve been to see Bill and to talk to the police.”

Gosh, she’s Andy’s ex-mother-in-law and Dominic’s grandmother. She’s a victim too. We arrived at the same place but definitely came from opposite sides of the bridge.

“How are you, Mrs. Haines? This must be awful for you.”

She took a deep breath, clutched her handbag and kneaded the leather. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. No explanations of Bill’s actions can ever justify what he did to you.”

Andy leaned forward and flinched with pain “Did you ever suspect him?”

Her words surprised me.

“I have to admit I did wonder. After the funeral, the doctor gave me a prescription for sleeping pills. I took a couple and put the rest away because it didn’t seem like I needed them. Then one morning I found the container and there were only three left. I think Bill had been putting them in my food.”

Andy ran his hands through his hair. “After so much questioning, I was beginning to think I killed Isca during some psychological fugue and then blanked it out. When I saw Bill last night, and saw the kind of shape he was in and then when I saw him walking to Mercedes’ building, I wondered, but I just couldn’t believe it. All the time I was trying to follow him but still keep out of sight, I felt like a fool.”

“It was lucky for me you did, but why were you even there?”

“I’d called your office earlier. You were at lunch and the receptionist told me to call after hours because you had a late appointment. I thought I’d catch you for dinner, only I got hung up on some stuff. If I hadn’t looked out a window when I did and seen Bill walking down the street, well...” He stopped and took a long drink of coffee. “It all came to me, the whitewash on your mirrors. Bill always had the stuff around. His fingerprints in her house, nothing odd about that. Dominic had my money clip, the one Isca gave me, the last time he was at your house, Betty, and I thought he left it there. He must have taken it home. I ended up replacing the clip, but I was sure surprised to see the original one here.” Andy looked at me.

“I found it in Isca’s garden.”

“The police never mentioned it and they sure asked about plenty else.”

“I only told them about it yesterday. How did it get there?”

“They let me go over to get some of Dominic’s stuff. I had Dominic with me but wouldn’t let him go in. He must have been in the backyard and dropped it. You knew I took it, though, right?”

“Yes. I saw you pick it up off the table and put it in your pocket.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“I don’t know. I guess if I thought if I did they would have stopped looking for the vicar.”

For a moment we were the only two in the room. Andy’s eyes became glassy and I cleared my throat.

“I wonder where Mr. Haines was hiding.”

“It’s a pretty good size building. He could have been anyw
here:  a conference room, the men’s room, the stairwell. Who knows?”

“Well, how did you get in the office?”

“Your building’s janitor service is the same as ours and I recognized one of the men. I told him you were on your way down and he let me in the lobby to wait. There are crawl spaces between each floor where the pipes and wires run. I’d been in and out of your building when it was being built, so I knew a bit about its construction. As soon as the janitor left, I stacked some chairs, climbed them and pushed out one of the ceiling tiles. Then I hoisted myself up.”

“Good thing we’re not on the top floor.”

“No lie. Anyway, when I got into the crawl space above your office, I thought I’d just take a peek and if everything was okay, I’d go back out the same way. No one would be the wiser.”

“Except the janitor, if he came back.”

“Yeah, and anyone who saw the dirt all over my clothes.” He gave a rueful laugh. “I accidentally stepped on one of the tiles and when it broke, I heard what was going on. It was just a matter of dropping through the floor, uh, ceiling, that is.”

I digested his words and Betty Haines’ eyes filled with tears. They rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away and blew her nose. “I’ve known Bill all my life, but I guess I never really knew him.”

She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I stood and shuffled over to shut the balcony door and get the coffeepot.

“Bill was always religious. We grew up on the same street, but it might as well have been in separate towns for all I ever saw of him. If he wasn’t doing chores, he was at church. If he wasn’t praying, he was doing some kind of penance. Church, prayer meetings, Bible studies. No music, no dancing, no after-school activities. No friends. As a kid, he actually liked being kept after school for something, not that he pulled many stunts. He knew what waited for him at home if he did.”

What a sad picture.

“He’d sneak away from splitting wood or weeding the vegetable garden or whatever, sometimes, to play with us kids, but his conscience made it impossible for him to enjoy himself.” She fished in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose.

“I read where Charles Manson was raised in a similar situation.” She paused. “Funny, isn’t it? Anyway, for Bill, the army was a Godsend. Isn’t that something? He enlisted right after high school and, for the first time, experienced another way of life. He was so used to taking orders without asking questions at home, the military came naturally to him. I used to see him at USO functions and things. Somewhere, along the line, he’d learned to dance and was really good.”

Neither Andy nor I said anything. What could we say?

“He was so sweet, so earnest. We’d drive to the ocean and walk along the tide line. He’d tell me about the things he’d seen. Often, they were just ordinary everyday things, but they were new to him. He was so naïve it was heart wrenching. I don’t remember how we got engaged. It just seemed the natural thing to do. We had to wait, though, to get married. First, we were both too young, and his folks wouldn’t give their consent. Then, when he was old enough, his father died and his mother had a stroke. I didn’t want to wait, but Bill didn’t want me having to take care of his mother.”

“Mrs. Haines.” I hesitated, uncomfortable with what I was about to ask. “Who was, I— mean, Isca wondered, I mean—I know it’s none of my business, but was Mr. Haines her father?”

I wondered if she’d answer and, for a moment, the room was crowded with ghosts. “I don’t know, for sure.” Color came and went on her face. “Bill and I had had a fight. He went back to the base and I went out with another fellow. Today they’d call it date rape, but back then the girl was always at fault. I was ten days late when Bill came back though, for me, that wasn’t unusual. I was so scared, I wanted to die. I had to tell him why I couldn’t see him anymore, but he wouldn’t hear of it. We eloped. It was the easiest way. Bill was going to be shipped out, so it didn’t look suspicious. Isca’s blood type was compatible with both of ours. I don’t know how old Mrs. Haines found out, but she did, and she never let me forget it for a minute. We had to live in her house, of course. People said I was wonderful to take over her care. If they’d only thought about it, they would have realized we had no other choice. Bill was an only child.”

Betty Haines took a long sip of her coffee and swirled what was left in the mug. “She lived for three more years and by the time she was gone, the damage was done. I never once gave Bill a reason to doubt me, but that didn’t matter. He got it into his head I was easy. Then Isca was born. Such a pretty baby. In those days, women stayed in the hospital for a week or so after giving birth. Bill came every day, and I thought everything was fine, that he’d gotten over his doubts. Then I saw the birth certificate. We’d agreed on Virginia Louise, but he told the doctor to write in Isca. You know what for?” Her voice rose. “Do you know how he came up with that name? Iscariot. From Judas Iscariot. I couldn’t believe it. It was—I can’t even tell you.”

“Did Isca know any of this?” Andy seemed to forget his pain and leaned forward.

“I don’t think so. I don’t know. She never said, but then she never asked me, either. Maybe Bill told her. She was such a pretty little girl, but so willful. Sometimes I didn’t know if I loved her or hated her. I don’t think Bill ever made up his mind about that, either. For eighteen years she walked a tightrope and then she ran off to California. I have no idea how she got the money. Maybe he gave it to her, but it didn’t really matter. She was gone. Parker was—is a wonderful son, but she was my little girl.”

I looked at Andy. What had Isca told him and what had she kept secret?

“She had a way of making it seem as if you were all real close. You know, lavish presents for holidays, lots of cards, getting her friends to drop off little gifts. It took me a while before I realized she found every excuse possible not to have to visit. The cost to fly, her pregnancy, Dominic was too colicky, that kind of thing.” Andy shrugged.

“Yes, I know.” Betty Haines looked sadly at Andy. “Bill was so pleased when Dominic was born. ‘After the right amount of time had passed,’ he’d remind me, only it no longer mattered. The remarks had ceased to hurt. Then your divorce,” she looked away and sighed, “caught him off guard, and the final blow was the nine hundred phone line. I don’t know how he learned about it. Isca certainly never told us, but he had a way of finding out things. To Bill, it was a case of like-mother-like-daughter. He just couldn’t handle it.”

“I am so sorry.” I was, but the words were inadequate.

“I know you are. I’m sorry, too.”

“How is Mr. Haines now?”

“Gone. Mentally, he’s gone. I doubt if he’ll be fit to stand trial. Perhaps it’s just as well, for the family, I mean. He’ll be evaluated, of course, but when he’s not rocking back and forth, staring into space, he’s babbling gibberish.”

She opened and closed the snap on her purse a few times, studying the action carefully. After a moment, she stood. “If you don’t mind, Andy, I’d like a walk in the park before we go. No, don’t get up, either of you. I can see my way out.”

Andy and I watched her leave. Did he have a lump in his throat as big as mine? When the door closed behind her, he eased out of his chair and sat on the couch next to me. With a bruised and swollen hand, he smoothed my hair. I put my hand over his, lifted it to my lips and kissed his palm. Then I held it against my cheek.

“I can’t kiss you. I can’t even hug you.”

“I can kiss you, though. I did so gently on the unswollen, uncut part of his lips.

“I love you, Mercedes. Remind me to tell you sometime when it doesn’t hurt so much.”

Before I could respond, Dave knocked and hollered through the door.

More company was the last thing I wanted. I really didn’t want any company, but I hobbled over to let him in. The Vaseline hadn’t done a thing to make my carpet-burned knees feel better. Muscles, my throat, ligaments and other unknown parts protested. Coincidentally, Dave, Francisco and Kyle Hamilton arrived at the same time. One look at me and they all held off on the hugs. Their presence filled my apartment with noise and vigor. Porch Cat took off for the bedroom.

“I need more coffee.” When Dave started to stand, I added, “Let me. I want to keep moving.” The little kitchen was close to the living room, but it gave me some badly needed distance.

I thought about Isca, about her prowling bars at night, her casual relationships and her 900 phone line. I remembered the gossiping ladies at her funeral and hoped that they’d remember her as a little girl and as a good mother and forget everything else. However, I doubted it. I even thought about the Vicar and wondered where his proclivities would take him now. Bill Haines had implied Isca was a lesbian. I remembered someone at work making a veiled remark and how she’d laughed but refused to respond. I wondered about that, too, but didn’t really care. The truth was, Isca had been my friend. Before her death, there had been too few friends and too many solitary interests in my life. Since her death, there were many more people, but few of them close and there was too much confusion.

A permanent relationship with Andy wasn’t something I was ready to consider. He was dear and sweet, but did I want to give up my solitary lifestyle to get involved with him and maybe become a stepmom? Being any kind of mom was a lifetime contract and that was a scary thought. I loved him, but was I in love with him?

Kyle Hamilton wasn’t even divorced yet. In violation of my ethics, I’d dated a married-though-separated man. Still, he was attractive and fun to be with and the son he’d mentioned was grown. Had he shown more than a casual interest in me? The jury was out.

I rinsed out the coffeepot and refilled it, got out a clean filter and measured in the grounds. I worked methodically and thought about my job, my apartment, about Dave and Francisco and about the things I liked to do at my convenience, either alone or with someone but at my choice. My “alone things” were extremely important. I looked forward to an hour or so from now when everyone would be gone and Porch Cat and I could relax with Jose chattering in the background.

I got more mugs and put them on a tray with a creamer and sugar bowl. While the coffeepot heated I thought about having to work overtime so one of the VPs could go on vacation.
I can’t wait to hear what Jackson, Johnston and Associates will have to say, not to mention the building management.
I grinned. I’d take my time before signing any documents.