Too Little, Too Late (29 page)

Just as she had written “oregano” on her list, she heard a screech of tires in front of her house. Kate opened the front door to find her granddaughter rushing up her front steps.

“Grams, I got it!” Karen cried.

“What exactly did you get?” Kate asked indulgently, enveloping her granddaughter in a warm hug.

Karen was too wound up for any physical show of affection. After a quick peck on her grandmother’s cheek, she pulled out the plastic bag from her purse. “I got the necklace back my friend had stolen from the crazy woman!”

“So Liz was right,” Kate muttered. “How did you convince Laurie to give it to you?”

Karen looked at her grandmother sheepishly. “I bribed her.” Seeing her look of disapproval, Karen pulled at her grandmother’s arm. “Come on, Grams! We have to go to the police station so I can prove to those cops I wasn’t lying.”

“Absolutely,” Kate told her. “But first, let’s go inside so I can take a look at this necklace of yours.”

“It’s not mine,” Karen reminded her as they sat down at the kitchen table. “It was that woman’s.” She took the necklace out of the plastic bag and handed it to her grandmother.

When Kate saw the gold coin necklace, she had the most horrific sense of déjà vu that was akin to a violent blow, rendering her short of breath and gasping for air. She carefully took the necklace with fingers that shook. For a second, she closed her eyes, afraid to look more closely.

“Grams, are you okay?” asked Karen worriedly. “What’s wrong with you? You were okay a minute ago.”

“I’m fine, honey,” she told her granddaughter. “I just need a glass of water. Why don’t you get us both something to drink.” Only when Karen got up to do as she’d been told did Kate allow herself to look more closely at the necklace in her hand.

The necklace consisted of coarse gold filigree and six small coins, depicting different Roman emperors. The seventh coin, the one in the middle, was larger than the others. It had to be a coincidence that Liz’s mother would have one just like it—it simply couldn’t be the same one! With fingers that shook so hard she almost dropped the necklace, Kate undid the tiny spring at the back of the center coin, releasing the locking mechanism. Magically, the center coin opened into a locket. For a second, Kate couldn’t bear to look. Eventually, she willed her eyes to open and focus on the two faces she instinctively knew would be there.

The pictures had been taken a long time ago and yet they were preserved intact. The young woman, resplendent in her blond beauty, had an arresting smile, in distinct contrast to the cherubic features of the baby on the other side of the locket. A gasp of pain tore from her, making Karen forget about their drinks as she rushed to her side.

“Grams, are you sure you’re okay?” Karen asked anxiously. “Do you want me to call Mom?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Kate, managing to speak with some semblance of normality. “I think the heat’s just getting to me, that’s all.” She patted her granddaughter’s hand. “Don’t forget, honey, I’m not as young as you.”

“As long as you’re okay.” Karen looked at her grandmother’s wan features dubiously. Deciding to change the subject, she asked, “Why do you suppose that woman wanted to leave this necklace in your mailbox, Grams? And I still don’t get what the necklace had to do with tit’s milk.”

Kate swallowed hard. “I don’t know either.”

“The necklace is kind of pretty, if you’re into that kind of stuff, and it looks like it’s made from gold,” Karen commented. “Do you think it’s valuable?”

“Maybe,” Kate answered carefully.

“Do you think you’re feeling well enough to go to the police station with me, Grams?”

“I was just thinking about that, honey,” Kate told her, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe we shouldn’t go to the police just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d like to try and find out why the woman wanted to give this to me before we give it to the police.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Well,” said Kate slowly, “I thought maybe I could show it to her daughter, Liz, to see if she recognizes it. After all, the more information we have for the police, the more it would help them, right?”

“I suppose so,” Karen admitted reluctantly.

“And I’ll tell you what,” said Kate, putting her arms around her granddaughter’s shoulders. “For the next few days, we’ll keep this between the two of us, hmmm?”

Before Karen could reply, Kate’s phone rang. Kate slowly got up and went to answer it. A minute later, she hung up, her face pale.

“What’s wrong, Grams?”

“That was the Foundation,” Kate told her quietly. “Esther’s in the hospital with pneumonia.”

“How serious is it?” Karen asked.

“For someone Esther’s age, it’s very serious,” her grandmother replied somberly. “Esther’s entire floor has been quarantined because of the pneumonia and three other residents on the floor have it as well.”

“What about her two friends?”

“They’re okay,” Kate informed her, “but the nurse told me that they’re not taking Esther’s illness very well.”

“So what’s going to happen now?” asked Karen.

“I’m going to the hospital,” Kate told her firmly, “and you’re going home.”

Liz looked at her bedside clock. It was two in the morning. She had been tossing and turning for the past few hours and she showed no signs of falling asleep any time soon. She stared up at the ceiling, shrouded in blackness. Something was definitely bothering her.

Actually, it was more of a niggling in the back of her mind and it had to do with the name “Bauer”. That was the name of Paco Ramierez’s former employer, before he began working for the City of Compton as a bus driver. Liz was certain she had come across that name somewhere before but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember where. Sighing in frustration, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. Padding into the kitchen, she made herself a cup of hot chocolate which she took into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table to cool. Feeling restless and frustrated at the same time, her eyes fell on the folder containing all the articles on her mother’s death that she’d cut out and kept. Picking up the folder, she settled into a comfortable position on the sofa and began reading, hoping to jog her memory. Twenty minutes later, she still had no answers and her hot chocolate had gone cold.

“What now, Mom?” she asked her mother’s urn sitting on the sideboard. Her eyes automatically slid up to the framed poster, hanging in its place of honor above the urn. Liz remembered her notes tossed in the sideboard drawer and suddenly, something clicked in Liz’s head. She quickly got up and rifled through the drawer until she found them. Most of them related to the movie,
One Spark Too Many,
on which the poster was based. And then there it was, staring her in the face, in her own handwriting, no less. The female lead in the movie, Sigourney Johnson, had retired after three movies to marry the director of one of her movies.
His last name had been
Bauer
!

Liz took a steadying breath, forcing herself to consider the various possibilities. After all, it could simply be a coincidence that her mother had carried around a photo still of the movie poster for
One Spark Too Many
, and the actress from the movie, Sigourney Johnson, had married a Bauer, and the car used to run her mother down belonged to Paco Ramierez, once employed by a couple by the last name of Bauer…Or it could be that there were simply too many coincidences and that she and Otis had actually stumbled onto a clue in her mother’s death?

Glancing at the time, she saw it was going on four in the morning. Too early to be calling Otis, but given the circumstances, she couldn’t wait. With trembling fingers, Liz dialed his number and waited impatiently until he finally picked up on the eighth ring. When he heard her voice, he was instantly alert.

“What’s wrong?” he asked sharply. “Did something happen?”

“I’m fine,” she quickly reassured him.

“Then why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

“To ask you something.” She ignored his groan. “Remember the Bauers, the couple you said Paco Ramierez and his wife worked for?”

“Yeah,” he replied, drifting off to sleep again. “Couldn’t you wait until morning to ask me about them?”

“No,” she replied firmly. “Did Paco ever tell you what the husband did?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because it’s important, that’s why.” Liz tried to stay calm. “I realize you’re sleepy but please try to focus, Ote.”

He smothered a yawn. “I think he said the guy was a producer or director or something.” When she didn’t say anything, he became more alert. “Are you still there, Liz?”

“I don’t think your detective work crashed and burned at all,” she told him excitedly. “I think you stumbled onto something that may be important!”

***

Detective Warner tiredly flipped through the file in front of him. “We want to find your mother’s killer as much as you do but frankly, it just doesn’t add up.”

Although the door to the interrogation room they were in was closed, the ever-present cacophony of noises from outside permeated the room. Both Detectives Warner and Cassidy were present, as was Otis, who nursed a paper cup of industrial-strength black coffee.

“I’m not suggesting that we’ve got any answers,” Liz argued heatedly. “I’m just telling you that it’s too much of a coincidence and I’d like you to look into it.”

“Okay,” said the younger detective, “let me see if I’ve got this straight.” He briefly scanned his notes. “Your mother always carried around this photograph which was from a movie poster. The actress in the movie went and married some guy named Bauer. The guy whose car was used in your mother’s hit and run also worked at one time for a couple named Bauer and you think there’s a connection, right?”

“Right,” Liz told them confidently.

“I think it’s a wild goose chase,” Warner told them, rubbing his blood-shot eyes. “And right now, we just don’t have the man power to go following up something you happen to think is not a coincidence. We’ve had three homicides in the past 24 hours in this jurisdiction alone. We can’t spare any bodies right now.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it ourselves,” Otis announced.

“You’ll do no such thing,” barked Warner. “The last thing this city needs is civilians who think that they can go around playing Jim Rockford—”

“Who?” Liz asked in confusion.

Detective Cassidy, in his early thirties, grinned at her. “Rockford used to be a P.I. on TV in the seventies. Warner thinks everybody watches reruns.”

“I may be an old dinosaur compared to you three,” his partner retorted, “but my gut instincts are rarely wrong.”

“True,” Cassidy conceded.

“Won’t you at least look into it?” Liz asked.

“We’re not making any promises,” Warner told her.

“But we’ll check it out,” Cassidy told her.

The two detectives glared at each other. Liz stood up, shaking both their hands but squeezing Cassidy’s hand a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you.” She told him.

With that, she took her leave with Otis in tow.

Kate glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time. She had been waiting almost the entire afternoon for Liz to get home. About ready to give up, Kate’s patience was finally rewarded when an older model Ford Thunderbird pulled into the parking lot and Liz hopped out. She heard Liz’s male companion ask if she wanted him to pick her up later for some dinner but Liz declined. With a quick wave, he was off and Liz was heading for the entrance to her apartment.

“Liz!” Kate called out, hurrying from her car.

“Hi, Mrs. Stanton.” Liz stared at her in surprise. “Let me guess. You’ve changed your mind about me working for your company, right?”

“No, it’s nothing like that at all,” she told the younger woman. Her fingers tightened nervously around the plastic bag in her pocket. When Kate saw Liz hesitate imperceptibly, she was quick to add, “I just needed to talk to you about something and – it’s important.”

“Sure.” Liz gave her a tired smile before leading the way up to her apartment.

When they were inside her apartment, Liz set about serving some lemonade and cookies while Kate used her bathroom. The bathroom, like the rest of Liz’s apartment, was neat and orderly. It was only after she’d settled back against the cushions of Liz’s sofa that she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. “I thought my bladder was going to explode.”

“Were you waiting long?”

“Most of the afternoon,” Kate admitted.

“You said you had something important to tell me,” Liz prompted her.

“Well, not exactly,” Kate corrected her. “It was more like I had something important to
show
you.” She took the plastic bag out of her pocket before gently lifting the necklace out of the bag.

Liz turned white as a ghost. “It’s my mother’s necklace!”

“You were right, you know,” Kate told her. “Your mother was probably trying to put this necklace in my mailbox.”

“Where did you find it?”

“My granddaughter’s friend, Laurie, had it,” said Kate. “Laurie took it from your mother’s pocket.”

Liz shook her head in disbelief. “I just don’t understand it. I thought my mother lost that necklace years ago. I should’ve known better. She guarded that thing with her life.”

Kate chose her next words carefully. “Do you happen to know where your mother got the necklace?”

Liz shook her head. “My mother had it with her when she was released from the sanitarium.”

“The sanitarium?”

“Serendipity in San Francisco.” Liz looked at Kate sadly. “It’s a long story.”

Kate smiled at Liz kindly. She looked so young and vulnerable that Kate’s heart went out to her. “I have the time if you’d like to share it with me.”

Haltingly at first, and more quickly as her confidence grew, Liz confided to Kate her miserable childhood in foster care, the bizarre circumstances that had led to her mother being released into her custodial care at the age of eighteen and finally, her brief relationship with her mother. By the end of her tragic tale, Kate had moved to Liz’s side and had taken her in her arms where Liz finally released much of the pent-up frustration and sadness that she’d kept inside since her mother’s death. When she was finally spent and had pulled away, Kate asked, “You said your mother was in a mental institution before Serendipity?”