A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) (21 page)

Jessica wasn’t sure what to do next
.  She was amazed at how cool and collected Margarit had acted after her initial near-panic at the sight of her betrothed.  It was probably not a good idea to be seen wandering around in the shops after claiming to have another appointment. She wanted to speak to Barbara Boehner at the spa and supposed that her imaginary appointment could have been another spa treatment. It wouldn’t be outlandish if they spotted her coming out of the spa later.  And she should schedule something for next Monday, too, just in case the fiancé got curious and decided to check up on her a bit.  Jessica had parked on the street near the spa earlier so all of this made sense. By the time she walked the couple hundred yards from the restaurant to the spa she was ready for a spa treatment, more water, and a bathroom. 

Barb Boehner was an esthetician with the spa
. One of the blessings of the post-tourist season desert heat was that she had an opening for a walk-in.  Jessica would have to wait about 20 minutes, but she could handle that.  Sequestered in the inner sanctum of the spa, Jessica reclined, clad in a spa robe and slippers, her feet up on a plush ottoman. She sipped ice water laced with cucumbers and mint while ambient lighting and soft music soothed her body and soul. Maybe this sleuthing stuff wasn’t so bad after all.

“Ms. Huntington-Harper, Jessica Huntington-Harper, ready for your facial?”
The soft voice calling her name seemed to come from a distance. 

“Sorry, I must have fallen asleep
. I’m ready.” The cup she had been drinking from was on its side in her lap. Good thing it was empty. She stood and winced as she got reacquainted with the parts of her body that were still sore from her tango with the thug wearing Laura’s pantyhose on his head.

“
Oh, ick, ick, ick,” she thought, more put out by that recollection than the pain.

“I’m Barb Boehner
. You’re here for a facial?”

“Yes
.  I had, um, an accident yesterday.  My face is a wreck. Margarit Tilik swears you can help.” Barb stood there sizing her up for a few seconds.

“Follow me.”

Jessica trailed after her to one of the treatment rooms. Normally, Barb would have left the room while Jessica disrobed and positioned herself on a massage table under a sheet.

“Let’s take a look first, okay? Then decide what we can do.”

Jessica stood there as Barb scrutinized her face, gently touching her around the eyes and on her cheek. 

“Have you had anyone look at that to make sure your eye’s alright?” 

Jessica nodded, yes. 

“What have you bee
n doing to take care of this?”

“
Frozen peas,” Jessica replied, instantly. “And the EMTs gave me one of those gel ice packs that you put in the freezer. I used that right after the accident and last night when I got home.”

“Well, they should have told you to repeat that every hour on the hour for a day or so
. I’ve seen worse after this sort of
accident
.” The word accident was spoken in a sad, sorrowful tone.

“
Are you trying to heal this or hide it?” She asked rather abruptly.

“Both, I guess,” Jessica replied, almost sheepishly.

“We’ll start with an icepack of sorts, tea tree oil to sooth the areas around your eyes and I’ll work a little of my magic on the rest of your face.  How about your neck and shoulders, are they sore too?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a couple good bruises and a knot on my head.” Barb Boehner, esthetician par excellence, looked as though she might start clucking like a mother hen any second now.

“Okay we’ll go easy on the massage part of your facial.  After the facial I’ll do your makeup. I’ve got a product used to cover scars that will really help. You get comfortable and I’ll be back in a minute.”

Barb
patted Jessica on the arm, scooting out the door, shutting it behind her.  Jessica had a better idea about how shameful it must feel to be hiding signs of domestic abuse.  She also felt bad letting this woman believe that’s what had happened to her. It was worth it to learn more about Margarit and her “accidents,” courtesy of Alan or one of his beefy companions, no doubt.

CHAPTER 19

The facial was splendid
. A carefully administered head, neck and shoulder massage loosened muscles tightened by wrestling with the intruder at Laura’s house.  Jessica left the resort feeling refreshed and looking a whole lot better. Barb-the-wonder-woman esthetician had made good on the promise to cover up much of the damage.

Jessica bought all the makeup Barb used and took it home, hoping she could do a creditable job on her own
. She had that lunch scheduled for the next day with Paul and wanted to look as good as she could under the circumstances.  Why looking good mattered so much wasn’t clear.  Perhaps a matter of pride, even defiance, given the shambles her life was in at the moment.

In addition to a rejuvenated and patched up face, Jessica ob
tained some valuable information about Margarit and Alan. Barb had assumed Jessica and Margarit were friends and Jessica allowed that assumption to stand.  Barb had indeed provided similar facial restoration assistance to Margarit after a run-in or two with her sugar-daddy.

Alan
was the jealous type. Hired hands were used as drivers to keep an eye on Margarit. They were gone the moment Alan got it into his head that Margarit was flirting, or otherwise becoming too comfy, with the help. According to Margarit, she didn’t always get the worst of it.  Alan was an equal opportunity brute, in person, or by proxy. He’d routinely sic one hireling on another when it came to doling out consequences for coveting thy neighbor’s wife, or fiancé, in this case. More than one of her previous drivers had been beaten even when Margarit swore there was nothing going on between her and the target of Alan’s savagery. 

Jessica wondered out loud what sort of guy would hire
men to guard his wife-to-be and then pay someone else to beat them up on a routine basis. 

In a hushed tone Barb had said, “Somebody who’s connected, if you know what I mean?”

“Connected, as in the Godfather connected?” Jessica asked. “I thought our local wise guys were geriatric
ex
-mob members who had figured out how to get the ‘firm’ to let them retire.” 

“Well
he’s not mafia, but Russian or Armenian mob or something like that. Margarit didn’t say exactly. She’s an interpreter and courier for Alan and his
business partners
on a lot of sensitive matters. What I think is weird is that he’s crazy jealous, but then likes her to let it all hang out when he drags her around as ‘arm candy’. You’d think a guy that jealous wouldn’t want her to dress in a way that invites men to gawk. Margarit says she’s careful to wear less revealing clothing and dark sunglasses when she’s working.  She doesn’t even want to make eye contact that could be misinterpreted by Alan, or the other guy, when she’s translating or running errands. Hasn’t she told you all of this already?”

“No
.  Not really.  We just met recently and I today was the first time I met Alan—what’s his name?” Jessica asked in the most naïve tone of voice she could muster.

“Bedrossian,” Barb interjected.

“Yeah, I just met Alan Bedrossian today. I did wonder why she was so quick to tell him my face looked like this because I had some work done.  I guess she doesn’t want him to think she’s hanging out with a woman who gets hit, you know? Might start a conversation he doesn’t want her to have.”

“You could be right about that
.  I’ve probably said more than I should already. She’ll open up when she’s ready. Margarit could use a friend who understands what she’s going through.  Maybe you two can support each other and figure out how to get away from the guys in your life that can do this sort of thing.  You two both have resources. It sounds like Alan’s not such an easy guy to get away from though.  Is the guy who did this to you like that too?”

“Actually, right now I can’t even find the guy who did this to me
. I’d sure like to,” Jessica muttered.  “I won’t let him get away with it, promise.”

“Good for you, that’s the spirit
.  Let’s take a look and see what you think.” With that Barb had handed her a mirror so Jessica could admire her handiwork.

Jessica left thinking she might have stumbled upon a motive
for Roger’s sudden demise. The leap from savage beating to murder didn’t seem like that big a stretch for Alan Bedrossian. Maybe, like Jeff the bartender, Alan had observed how chummy Roger and Margarit had become. Infidelity on Margarit’s part didn’t seem that farfetched for such an unhappy woman.  Perhaps Margarit wanted to tell her what was going on between her and Roger. Was that why she had asked for Jessica’s name and number? Did Margarit suspect that Alan Bedrossian had a hand in Roger’s death?

Roger would have let Alan or one of his associates in
to the house, Friday. But why would Alan suddenly take to shooting an errant suitor when giving them a good beating had been deterrent enough in the past? Why the delay in shooting to kill? Alan Bedrossian didn’t strike Jessica as the indecisive type. If he had gone there, or sent a henchman to shoot Roger, it would have been over quick. 

It was a
huge risk for Margarit to contact Jessica. Nevertheless, she hoped Margarit would call. If Jessica didn’t hear from her in the next couple days she’d have Jerry track her down. Once he located her, Jessica would call and try to arrange for another tete-a-tete. 

Tete-a-tete? That
was an odd turn of phrase for a conversation about infidelity and murder, even in the refined surroundings of the La Quinta resort. Dinner with the cat pack suddenly struck Jessica as inappropriate, too. What had she been thinking to treat a meeting about a murder investigation like a pizza party? 

It was about five o’clock
when she pulled up to her house in Mission Hills. She’d had a handful of mixed nuts while talking to Jeff the bartender, and an apple while waiting her turn at the spa, but she was ready for pizza.  Wondering idly what Bernadette might have in the fridge to snack on, Jessica noticed the cars parked in front of the house. It was the one in the circular drive that got her attention—a light blue Toyota Prius.

CHAPTER 20

Jessica parked her car in the garage and went into the house
.  Bernadette, Laura, Sara and Father Martin were all in the morning room seated around the table. Things looked serious.  As Jessica walked in, they stopped talking.

“Jessica, this is Father Martin from St. Theresa’s,” Bernadette said by way of introduction
.  A nice looking middle-aged man, in khakis and a knit polo shirt started to stand as Jessica approached.  He had a pleasant face, sandy-colored hair, and a warm smile. The smile was sort of priestly, Jessica thought, but otherwise he looked more like your typical golfer than a priest. 

“No need to get up Father,” Jessica said reaching out to shake his outstretched hand
.  He spoke as he continued to stand.

“We’re done here, I think, and I have another stop to make before getting back to the rectory for dinner
. I want to make sure I get Roger’s funeral on the schedule now that we have made the arrangements.  I haven’t seen you at St. Theresa’s before have I Jessica? Bernadette says you’re a Catholic, confirmed at St. Theresa’s in fact.”

“Uh oh, here it comes
. The sales pitch or the guilt trip or whatever,” Jessica thought. “Yes, that’s all true.  I went to high school there.  But I’ve been away for years and only recently returned to the desert.”  She tried not to squirm under his gaze. The amiable smile on his face did not budge a bit.

“Y
ou know, of course, that you’re more than welcome to come to Mass at St. Theresa’s, anytime.  If you ever want to sit and talk, that would be great too.”

Jessic
a stole a glance at Bernadette. What she had told this guy? Bernadette gave her an almost imperceptible little shrug somewhere between innocent and ambiguous. “That’s kind of you.  Maybe I’ll take you up on that when things settle down around here.”

“Yes, well we
can always hope for a better time to talk about things, even the important things, Jessica. None of us ever knows how much time we have to work things out before the God of surprises confronts us with the next twist.” It was only then that he released her hand. Bernadette walked with him to the front door after he bid Laura and Sara goodbye.  Jessica hoped the words weren’t prophetic as she turned back to face Laura and Sara squarely.

Seating her
self across from them, Jessica marveled at how much the two sisters looked alike. She could see how Mrs. Gomez could have thought Laura was walking up to the door when it was really Sara.

“Hey you two, can I talk to you for a minute before the rest of the gang gets here for pizza?”

“Sure,” Laura responded wearily.  Sara merely nodded, gazing quietly, but maybe a little warily at Jessica as she sat down.

“How are the plans going?”

“I think everything’s in place.  The body will be released tomorrow and Father Martin made arrangements for Desert Memorial to pick Roger up and prepare him for burial Wednesday morning, Jessica. The funeral director, Mr. Humphries, was here for a while and helped us pick out a casket, music and flowers.  Roger’s mother is going to the funeral home tomorrow to drop off a nice suit and shoes she bought for Roger.  I think Roger would have been fine with cremation but his mother insisted on a traditional burial.”  She paused before going on, the strain was obvious.

“We’ve settled on an early morning viewing followed a brief grave site ceremony
.  The viewing room is on the grounds so there’s no need for limos or a funeral procession. We’ll start at 8:00 a.m. so folks can stop by before work and pay their respects even if they can’t stay for the burial at 10:00.  I hope that’s early enough that we won’t pass out, at least not from the heat. Father Martin will handle the burial service. He and Mr. Humphries helped us sketch out an obituary that will be sent to the Desert Sun tomorrow.  Roger’s parents have been making calls to let people know what’s happened and will call back to fill them in now that we’ve made the arrangements.”

Sara piped up
as Laura paused again. “Mr. Humphries was so nice.  He’s even agreed to wait for payment until the life insurance is paid.  Most of it anyway,” she said looking sideways at Laura.  “Roger’s mom is going to give him some money when she drops off the clothes tomorrow that Roger will be buried in. Bernadette says family can come back here for lunch.  She’s already got it all planned and won’t let us do a thing.”

“Another charge
being racked up on my account with you all, I’m afraid, Jessica.  You were right about our finances being a wreck. I took care of a few things online today.  There’s not that much available on our equity line, but I could have handled the suit and the initial payment for the funeral arrangements and the lunch but everyone’s been so insistent.”  With that, the tears started to well up in her eyes.

“It’s our chance to pay tribute to Roger, Laura
.  We need to grieve too.”  Jessica stretched so she could reach across the table and brush an errant lock of hair out of Laura’s eyes, placing it behind her ear. 

“This is kind of difficult, but there’s something else I need to bring up before the guys show up.” Jessica felt like a heel for some reason, but went on anyway
. 

“The police reported that they spoke to your neighbor across the street, Laura
.  I’m talking about Mrs. Gomez, do you know who she is?”

“Yeah, she’s the neighborhood snoop
. She uses the crime watch thing as a cover to stick her nose into everybody’s business.  I’m guessing she’s the one who called the cops when things got loud between me and Roger.  She was actually standing in her driveway when the police came to the door, with that nasty, noisy little dog on its leash.  I’m sure she was just hanging out there, trying not to miss anything.”  Laura’s cheeks flushed as anger and embarrassment overtook her anguish as she spoke.

“Well she told the police that she thought she saw you go into the house F
riday evening before dark, around 6 or 7.  She said it sure looked like you walking up to the front door.”  Jessica saw bewilderment on Laura’s face as Sara began to fidget. 

“It couldn’t have been me, Jessica
. You know that! We were at Lulu’s by then.”

“I know, Laura
.  The other thing she mentioned was a car parked at the curb.  She didn’t actually see the woman get out of it, but told the police it was a light blue Toyota Prius.”  Jessica stopped.  Laura’s eyes widened.  She turned to look at Sara who had started to cry.  Jessica’s gaze followed.

“It wasn’t Laura, it was
m-m-me.”

“Sara, what were you doing there?” Jessica asked calmly.

“I want to know the answer to that question too,” Laura added with incredulity in her voice and her arms folded across her chest.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you
. Dave and Roger made me promise, Laura. Roger borrowed money from us a few months ago. He said he had a lead on a new job and needed some money to get by until he got paid.”

“Money?  H
ow much money?” Laura asked, rubbing her temples with both hands.

“Five thousand
dollars, Laura.  It was nearly all of our savings.  He was so desperate and upset and absolutely sure he could pay it back soon, so we said yes. But then he didn’t.  When we didn’t get the money back I tried to get Dave to talk to Roger.  You know, Dave, Laura. He’s such a wuss at times. We were fighting about it almost every day. It’s always something with the kids and I felt so anxious without a little money in the bank. What if the car died or one of us got sick?” She searched for understanding in Laura’s face but it was as if all the circuits in Laura’s brain had fried, nothing was registering.  Sara started to cry again. 

“I sound like such a bitch, Laura
.  I’m so sorry.” 

“No you don’t,” Jessica said reassuringly
. She reached out and placed a hand over Sara’s. “So what did you do Friday night?”

“I decided to do what Dave wouldn’t do
. I went to confront Roger and demand at least some of the money back.”  Turning toward Laura she went on, struggling to control her voice.  “I knew you were going to be out, partying with Jessica. I figured that was my best chance to talk to Roger without bringing you into it, Laura.” 

“Go on,” Jessica urged, since Laura still seemed unable to speak.

“Well there’s not much to tell
.  I got to the house about 6:30 since I knew the limo picked Laura up at six.  Roger let me in. He knew, right away, why I was there.  I told him we’d taken a risk loaning him the money for as long as we had.  We needed to have some idea about when we could get at least some of it back.”

“What did he say
, Sara?” Jessica asked.

“Well he was
embarrassed about the whole thing, he said as much.  He apologized too.  But he still wasn’t sure when he could start his new job. I asked him what we were supposed to do. I was almost yelling at him by then and I said I was going to tell you, Laura. Like I was a kid who was going to tattle. At that point he looked at his watch and paced around, trying to figure out what to do, I guess. Then he asked me if we got some of it could we give him another month to get the rest and not tell you about it. I agreed. He went out to the garage or his car or somewhere and came back with cash. Roger handed me a thousand dollars. I felt horrible, almost sick to my stomach, but I took the money anyway. I promised he could have all the time he needed and left. I don’t think I even thanked him and now I never will.” Sara sobbed uncontrollably. Bernadette, who had come back into the kitchen at some point without creating a stir, handed Sara a couple tissues from her pocket.

“Thank him?  You and Dave are still out four thousand dollars and you
want to thank him?” Laura had found her voice at last.  “I am so sorry, Sara, especially that you felt you had to keep this from me.”

“Hey it’s been a tough time for all of us
. I am your big sister after all.  Dave and I wanted to help. We thought we were. I guess going behind your back wasn’t the best thing to do. You know how Judge Judy always says not to lend money to family, especially when you can’t afford to live without it.  I’m sorry too, Laura.”

“W
ho was that man?  If he had the money why did you have to ask for it?”  Laura placed her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands.

“Did he say anything to you about where he got that kind of money?” Jessica asked.

“No.  I wondered about it, but I was so grateful and so ashamed to have thrown a tantrum to get it, I just wanted to get out of there. He was more than ready for me to go. Roger practically pushed me out the door after he gave me the money. I figured he was pissed and wanted me out before he had a tantrum of his own. I wasn’t ready to see that side of Roger, you know?” 

“Oh I know,” Laura replied.

“What time would that have been, Sara?”  Jessica was running over the timeline for the evening in her mind again.  Roger might have been anxious for her to go because he was ticked off, or more likely because he was expecting someone else. It couldn’t have been much longer before the Prius was replaced by the BMW if Mrs. Gomez was to be believed.

“Well let’s see,
it was 6:30 when I got there. I was so nervous. I was chattering away at first, trying to work up my courage. I asked Roger for a glass of water and followed him into the kitchen to get it. He handed me the water and said you were out for the evening. I told him I knew that and hit him up for the money right there in the kitchen. That’s how I know he went into the garage to get the money. I think I heard the car door slam and that little chirping sound, like he was locking the car with his key. Once he handed me the money we were eager to go our separate ways. Altogether I was there 20 minutes or so. I was home by 7:00, even after making a couple wrong turns driving the few blocks home.  Dave had just started getting the kids ready for bed yet. When I showed him I had some of the money he was so relieved. We went to work fixing the kids a bath and putting them to bed.”

“Okay, that’s good, Sara
. We’re going to have to put this into a statement for the police. They’re sure to have questions about who Mrs. Gomez saw that night. It won’t take them long to figure out you belong to the blue Prius. I’ll write up what you’ve told me. You can look it over at the funeral on Wednesday. If you sign off we’ll pass it on to Detective Hernandez. I’ll call tomorrow, let him know what’s up, and tell him that a formal statement is coming. If anybody from the police department contacts you, refer them to me. I’m your legal representative now too, okay? I don’t think either one of you really needs a lawyer but it’s better if you let me do the talking for the time being.”

“Whatever you think is best, Jessica,” Sara said solemnly.

“Just put it on my tab,” Laura said grimly. “No way are you going further in the hole to hire a lawyer, Sara.”

“Neither one of you need to worry about that
. Laura, you know I’d be out there shopping right now or I’d be hunched over my laptop buying junk I don’t need online. You’re probably actually saving me money by interfering with my self-pitying divorce-induced binging. So please no more talk about money for lawyering.” Jessica was emphatic.