Black Current Page 24

  “I know you don’t, Gabi. And now I understand why you work so hard at being positive.” I watched as she opened a cupboard, pulled out a canister of cleanser, and shook the white powder all over the spotless enamel sink.

  “Look, Gabi. What you and Angel do is none of my business. But just so you know, this agency is chaos without you. You bring it order and peace.”

  Gabi stopped scrubbing and turned to look at me. “Are you just saying that, Miss Jaymie? ’Cause I don’t want no more lies.”

  “I swear to you, Gabriela Martinez Gutierrez, I meant every word I just said.”

  “Gabriela Rufina Martinez Gutierrez,” she corrected. “You know, it is important to get the little things right. I wanted to tell you, I was looking at the electricity bill, and I saw they made a mistake and charged us one dollar and seventy-nine cents too much. Now when I called them up they said…” She looked over at me and caught my smile.

  “Gabi, I need you. Please don’t ever forget.”

  “I know you do. Miss Jaymie? You and me, we make a good team.”

  * * *

  The El Camino slipped down Highway 46 into the giant’s skillet that is the southern San Joaquin Valley. I put my finger to the window, felt the blistering heat through the glass, and blessed the vehicle’s interim owner for installing air-conditioning. Dexter was comfortably curled up on the floor on the passenger’s side, cool as an Eskimo’s dog under the vent.

  Dex had once again jumped in at the last minute and refused to get out. Ever since the cow dog had lost a hind leg, I’d found it hard to say no. Naturally, he took full advantage of my weak-mindedness.

  “It’s going to be hot as hell in Fresno, Dex. I won’t be able to leave you out in the car.”

  He lifted one round eyebrow and let it fall, as if to say, “So?”

  “I’ll tell you ‘so.’ I’m going to have to ask Judith Rosenfeld to let you inside. Let’s just hope she likes dogs. If she does, you could be a plus. If she doesn’t, having you along could mess up the interview.”

  We drove through the vast empty fields of burnt stubble. It was hard to believe all this had been lakes and marshes once upon a time, before the Yankees arrived and dammed the big rivers. Now the southern San Joaquin Valley was the essence of dryness, scorched earth.

  The interim owner had also outfitted Dudette with a topflight sound system. I switched on the only CD I owned, the only one worth listening to, the Eagles’ Greatest Hits. And for a time I enjoyed myself as I cruised across the great state of California, listening to unmatchable music. Then that song came on, the one Mike used to sing to me: Des-per-ah-do … I punched the song off in midphrase, before I could get emotional.

  We drove on in silence for a while, with the whir of the AC for company. Ten minutes later, I got a call.

  “Jaymie, what should we do?” Donna Tactacquin sounded scared. “The trial’s only two weeks away. And the lawyer we hired, Mr. Gamboa? He thinks John did it. He doesn’t come right out and say it, but I can tell.”

  I hadn’t told the police about John’s alibi. I knew Larry Millar had contacted Gamboa, and I figured it was up to the attorney to do what he thought best with the information. Besides, I kept thinking that if I could just identify the killer, John would be set free. Then he could tell his wife about Larry Millar in his own good time, or he could not tell her. Tactacquin’s infidelity was none of my business.

  “I’m getting closer, Donna.” I mentally crossed my fingers to forgive myself for the fib. “It won’t help to panic.” Easy for me to say.

  “There’s another thing, Jaymie. I’m worried about Taryn.”

  “Taryn? What do you mean?”

  “She’s really depressed. I’m having a hard time getting her out of bed in the morning. And I just found out she’s been cutting school.”

  “It’s no surprise: she’s been through a lot. You both have. Hang in there, Donna. I’m putting together the puzzle, just a few pieces left.”

  Bullshit, I admitted as I dropped the phone down on the passenger seat. The truth was, the puzzle was a jumble. Lots of loose pieces, and none seemed to fit.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Judith Rosenfeld lived in one of Fresno’s old grande dames on Van Ness Avenue, a two-story pink-and-cream-colored Mediterranean-style house built in the 1920s. I curved up the drive through heavily irrigated lawns and flowering crepe myrtles, and parked just past the front door.

  “Remember what I said about good behavior, Dex? Double underline that.”

  The heat slapped me in the face as I stepped out of the car. It was at least 108 in the shade, probably more. And to think I’d been complaining about a heat wave in Santa Barbara.

  Dex and I walked up to the massive door set in the thick stuccoed walls. I raised my hand to lift the knocker and looked down at the heeler. “Sit,” I suggested. “And pretend you’re well-bred.” He stared me down, then complied.

  Judith Rosenfeld was younger than I expected, perhaps fifty-five. She wore a perfectly pressed blue linen pantsuit and old Taxco jewelry, turquoise mounted in darkened silver.

  “Ms. Zarlin, hello. I’m Judith Rosenfeld.” She extended a manicured hand.

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” And then, because her glance had moved on to Dex, I explained.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s so hot out. Do you have a cool corner inside for my dog? Dexter’s under orders to be on his best behavior.”

  Judith laughed, and the tight set of her jaw relaxed. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. He’ll behave when he meets Ursula.” She stepped to one side. “Come in, both of you. We’ll get a bowl of water for Dexter. Would you like an iced tea?”

  “That would be great. It was a long drive.”

  I followed Judith down the wide tiled hall to the back of the house. The interior was cool and dark. But when I stepped though a doorway into the kitchen area, I was met with a riot of color.

  A wall of glass looked out on a garden lined with massive oleanders flowering in shades of pink and red. The blossoms glowed in the afternoon light. Here and there a white or pale yellow specimen offset the saturated color.

  I heard a click-clack on the tiles. A bear of a dog, the offspring of a Saint Bernard crossed with something even furrier, ambled in from another part of the house. She stopped to examine Dex. Dex, no fool, didn’t move a muscle.

  “This is Ursula?”

  “Yes, that’s Ursula.” Judith smiled. “We got her as a pup. At seven weeks we could already see what a monster she would become.”

  I watched as the two canines greeted each other. Dex was most certainly on his best behavior. Understandable, since Ursula’s mouth looked bigger than his head.

  Judith found a bowl in the cupboard, filled it with water at the sink, and put it down on the floor. “The only thing Ursula insists on is that no dog touch her bowl, not even her water bowl. I hope Dexter will oblige her.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’ll cooperate.” Dex was politely sniffing the mammoth canine. Ursula ignored him, flopped down on the tiled floor, and rested her massive head on her paws.

  “Let’s sit here in the nook. You know, we have this big old house, but somehow we always crowd into this one little spot. Rachel always said—” She stopped and stared out the window.

  “I still miss my big sister.” Her mouth tightened again. “After the boys moved out and my husband died, Rachel moved in with me. We became close, closer than we ever were as children. She’s been gone for just over a year now, and I still can’t believe it.”

  We sat in comfy lounge chairs, facing each other. “I know how you feel,” I replied. “My brother died three years ago. And after a while…” I searched for the right words, but failed to find them.

  “I’m sorry about your brother. What were you going to say? I’d like to hear.”

  “It’s just that after a while, I started to be afraid I wouldn’t be able to remember him very well. It’s the little things, you know?” I met her eyes. “They start to slip away.�
��

  “Yes, I know what you mean.” Judith folded her hands in her lap and studied them. “I want to honor my sister’s wishes, Miss Zarlin. That’s why I agreed to see you. I’m not entirely sure why you want to see me, but I had the sense on the phone—well. I had the sense I could talk to you.”

  Judith was beautiful. Her light green eyes were wide-set, her cheekbones sculptured and high. I hadn’t noticed her beauty at first, maybe because of her obvious tension.

  “Please, call me Jaymie.”

  “And call me Judith. Just don’t call me Judy, if you don’t mind.”

  “I won’t.” I smiled at her, wondering how to begin. “As I explained on the phone, we recently had two related murders in Santa Barbara. Unfortunately, the wrong person was arrested. That’s where I come in. It’s a long story, but the family of the man arrested has hired me to find out the truth.”

  “The truth.” She paused. “Some people like to be sophisticated and say there’s no such thing as the truth. I don’t agree.” I could see Judith was choosing her words carefully. This wasn’t a woman who spoke idly.

  “Rachel—my sister—wouldn’t have agreed either. She was a good, good woman, Jaymie. Before I say anything more, I want you to know that.”

  So Judith Rosenfeld did have something to tell me. Something difficult, something that might not put her sister in a good light.

  “I’m sure she was. Rachel was a medical doctor?”

  “Yes, an OB/GYN. She had a practice here in town, but from the very beginning, she donated a sizable portion of her time to the clinics for the field-workers, on the west side of the valley. She was dedicated, very giving.” Judith laughed a little. “I told her she was lucky to be Jewish. Otherwise, she’d have become a nun.” Abruptly, her smile disappeared. “Of course, there was a reason Rachel was like that.”

  She rose to her feet. “But I’m forgetting your iced tea. Sugared?”

  “No, thanks. Just plain.” I was about to tell her not to bother, but I stopped myself. Judith needed to tell her story at her own pace. Rushing the conversation wouldn’t help.

  She walked into the kitchen area to prepare the drink. A few minutes later she returned to the nook, handing me a tall glass of tea with a slice of lemon wedged on the lip. She slipped back into her chair.

  “Did I interrupt you, Jaymie? I think you were talking about several murders in Santa Barbara.”

  I set down the drink on the coffee table between us. Then I withdrew a sheet of paper from my messenger bag. “I’d like you to take a look at this old snapshot.”

  “Ohh…” A funny little noise escaped from Judith’s mouth as she stared at the photo. It sounded like a kind of giving in.

  “I—I’m not surprised. When you called, I guessed this had something to do with what happened back then.”

  “I think you must know Rod Steinbach.” I was careful to keep my voice level. “It looks like Rachel and he were a pair. Do you know the other two people in the photo?”

  “Oh, yes. Neil Thompson and Alice Tanaka. They were going to be best man and bridesmaid for Rod and my sister.” She bent closer over the photo, almost drinking it in.

  “I was twelve at the time. Rod and Rachel had planned for a simple outdoor wedding, up in Yosemite. And I was part of the wedding party, a junior bridesmaid, you know? I was so excited.” Judith looked up at me. Her expression changed.

  “Tell me. These murders. Do they have something to do with Rod Steinbach?”

  “I think they might.”

  Judith laid the photo on the coffee table. “Then it’s time for me to talk—for Rachel’s sake. You see, when my sister learned the cancer was terminal, she decided to speak out and tell the truth. But I’m afraid the end came more quickly than any of us expected.”

  I watched as Ursula, sensing her mistress’s distress, lumbered over and pushed her big muzzle into Judith’s delicate hands.

  “After Rachel died, I decided I would keep her secret. I didn’t want people to think badly of her, you know? But your phone call—it made me realize I have to carry out my sister’s intentions, even if it tarnishes her name.”

  “You’ve given this some thought.”

  “Not as much as you might think, Jaymie. There was no need—it was clear.” Judith smiled wistfully as she patted her dog. “Ursula knows I’m upset. Rachel was like that, too. She always tried to take care of me.”

  I knew I was about to hear something important. But I had no urge to rush the woman. A truth that had been hidden for nearly half a century could take its time to rise to the light.

  “Well. It’s time to tell Rachel’s secret, and you’re the person to tell it to. Especially now that I’ve met you, I know it’s right.” Judith rose to her feet again.

  “Back in 1970 my sister was an activist against the Vietnam War. She and Rod Steinbach shared political opinions—radical opinions. Rachel was arrested, three times, for protesting. But she was for nonviolence, always. I remember she and Rod argued about that. He thought the ends justified the means.”

  “Quite a few did, back then.”

  “Oh, violence was in the air. At any rate, their political disagreements didn’t seem to come between them. Rod was quite handsome back then, and very persuasive. They became lovers. And in the end Rachel agreed to help him firebomb a rental agency office in Isla Vista. She told me it was the greatest mistake of her life. They did it at night, when the building was empty—or so they thought.”

  “Gary Hobson,” I said. “He was asleep upstairs.”

  “I’m afraid so. Rachel heard about the young man the next morning. It was horrible, just horrible. He’d tried to get out, but he only made it halfway down the stairs. And then—and then my sister made another terrible mistake.” Judith walked over to the kitchen, turned around and paced back.

  “Rachel wanted to turn herself in, but Rod wouldn’t let her. He said if she turned herself in she’d be implicating him too, and also Neil and Alice, who were with them that night. He argued Rachel had no right to do that.”

  “So she said nothing. Went on with her life.”

  Judith dropped into her chair. “Not at first. Rachel came home to Fresno and worked in the canneries. I suppose you could say she wanted to atone. Eventually she realized she could help people if she went to medical school and doctored the poor.”

  “And she dumped Rod, obviously.”

  “Immediately. He was unrepentant, you see—said the boy was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She stroked Ursula’s ears. “Alice Tanaka took advantage of the vacancy and left Neil for Rod. Odd beginning for a marriage, but it seems to have worked out.”

  “Seems? What, have you had contact with them more recently?”

  “Yes, I have. You see, when Rachel learned the cancer was terminal, she telephoned Neil and the Steinbachs. Rod and Alice made a special trip out to see her. Decent of them—they were living back East at the time. I think they were considering a move to California, but hadn’t acted on it yet. And Neil came too, from Santa Barbara. They all visited with Rachel for over an hour.”

  I’d broken out in a sweat. “Judith, do you remember their visit?”

  “Oh my, yes. I remember it clearly, because later that night, Rachel passed on. The oncologist had told us she had another four to six weeks, so it was a blow.”

  “Let me get this straight. The Steinbachs and Neil Thompson visited Rachel, and a few hours later she died?”

  “Three or four hours later, I think. I wondered afterwards, was it a kind of letting-go?”

  “Judith. Was Rachel on morphine?”

  “Yes. The pain was—oh! Jaymie … what are you saying?”

  “Was Rod Steinbach on his own with Rachel, at any point?” I tried to be gentle, but my voice sounded harsh.

  “I don’t know. I—I left them alone, the four of them. I thought it was best. Rachel had made up her mind to talk to the authorities about what happened back in 1970, and she wanted to explain her reasons. I thou
ght … oh, God. He could have!”

  “We can’t know for sure.”

  “I went in to see her after they left, and Rachel was asleep, or so I thought. She never woke up. And some time in the night, she…”

  I walked over and knelt beside Judith’s chair. I wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, that Rachel would have suffered in the weeks left to her. That in a way Rod Steinbach had done her sister a favor, there were worse ways to go than overdosing on morphine. But the truth was, it did matter. Rachel Berger had been robbed of a precious month of her life.

  I thought Judith would break into tears, but she didn’t. Instead, she squeezed my hand.

  Ten minutes later, Dex got up from the carpet and stretched. He somehow knew it was time to go.

  “Just one more thing, Jaymie. I’ve been thinking since we talked on the phone.” Judith went over to the kitchen island and picked up a pale blue envelope. “I’d like to hire you myself.”

  “Hire me? I’m afraid I’m pretty full up at the—”

  “Wait. It’s only a small matter—please, hear me out.” She handed me the envelope. “Rachel didn’t leave much money—she gave almost everything away to charities when she was alive. But as executor of her will, I’ve written out a check for the proceeds from the sale of her condo. Two hundred and twenty-three thousand dollars. I don’t want to just mail it, you know? I’d like you to deliver it in person to Gary Hobson’s heirs.”

  “So far I haven’t—Christ!” There was a heavy knocking in my chest.

  I’d glanced down at the envelope. And I’d read the names written there: Helen Hobson—and Cheryl Hobson Kerr.

  * * *

  I left the Eagles switched off on the drive home. I needed to think, and think hard.

  My mind still whirled with the news: Gary Hobson’s sister had been Cheryl Kerr. There was no doubt: Judith’s attorney had researched the Hobson family before she’d drawn up the check.

  I berated myself. I’d never wondered about Cheryl, whether she’d married, whether she’d once had another name. She’d seemed almost virginal, somehow.