Murder Is Uncooperative (3 page)

I saw the woman meet Les's eyes, and the manager shrugged slightly. “Well, we just wanted to make sure you were settling in,” Gwen said. “I hope you'll like it here. And you'll get to meet everyone at the meeting on Monday. You did get the meeting notice?”

I nodded.

“Great, well, we'll see you at the meeting,” Les said. “Just check with the office if you have any questions. Oh, and we wanted to give you a copy of the occupancy agreement you signed before you moved in.” He handed me a document about fifteen pages long. I remembered that most of it seemed pretty straightforward. I had agreed to pay my rent on time, to report any maintenance problems promptly, to keep my apartment in good shape. As Les had explained before, I would be expected to attend members' meetings and to participate in some committee work around the co-op. The document stressed that everyone would try to be considerate of their neighbors, but it outlined a dispute resolution process if I had a problem with the co-op or with one of the people who lived there.

That didn't seem likely, I told myself. I was going to love it here.

"Oh, by the way,” Les said, turning back. “I noticed on your application form that you were interested in gardening. It's pretty short notice, and I'm sure you just want to settle in first but the garden committee is having a bit of a work party tomorrow morning. Just some fall clean up, a little weeding and leaf raking. If you want to join them, they're starting at ten o'clock.”

“I'd love to,” I answered.

THE SUN STREAMING
through my uncurtained bedroom windows woke me up early the next day, even before Ben was starting to stir. As I headed past his open bedroom door, I saw that Ben's kitten was awake. I quickly picked him up before he started meowing for attention. The gray-striped kitten was small but he was vocal when he wanted something. Ben called him Maui. Maui was a popular vacation destination for Vancouverites who could afford the trip. It was also the name of a Hawaiian demi-god. But Ben had named him after the sound he made. The spelling was my idea.

Holding him close to my body, I moved to the living room and sat down with the kitten on my lap.

I would need new curtains or blinds in here, I decided. The windows were wider than the ones in the condo. When Mom and Dad had sold the home I'd grown up in, they had rented that place. They planned to travel a lot, but they wanted someplace large enough for family dinners, for Ben to stay over.

Then Mom found a lump in her breast.

I looked at my watch. It was a delicate gold band that had belonged to my mother. It felt odd to see it on my wrist, but it somehow felt like she was close when I wore it. I sometimes thought I could still smell her perfume, a faint whiff of Chanel. It had been almost a year.

I blinked back the tears and stood up. I could hear Ben getting out of bed. It was time to get him ready for the day, and time to feed the cat.

Ben was scheduled to spend the weekend with Dave, so I wasn't surprised to see my ex-husband's number when my cell phone rang.

“Did you need the address again?” I asked, figuring he needed directions to the new place. “We're just off Commercial Drive.”

“Um, sorry Bec. I'm not going to be able to make it.” I didn't detect a lot of regret in my ex-husband's voice. “It's a work thing.”

Dave was a sports reporter at the newspaper I used to work at. Games were scheduled well in advance, so he usually knew when he would be working. But sometimes things came up unexpectedly. That was the nature of the job.

"So, when are you going to get here?”

“Well, I'm not sure how long this will take. It might be better to just skip this weekend. Let me talk to Ben.”

I knew Ben would be disappointed, but I was pleased Dave was at least willing to break the news to Ben himself. He hadn't been the most mature parent, and he usually left it to me to convey bad news. Dave was the fun parent, the one who took his son to hockey games and to the water park, the one who bought remote-controlled trucks and other expensive toys, who let Ben eat all the hot dogs he wanted.

I was the parent who cleaned up the vomit after the hot dog fiasco, who bought the batteries to make the toys run, who made sure Ben had dry clothes to change into after going to the water park, who made sure he ate vegetables.

It was clear that Ben looked forward to the time with his father.

"Daddy!” he cried, grabbing the phone eagerly. “Are you almost here? You should see my new room. Where are we going today?”

The look on my little boy's face broke my heart. “But when can you come here, Daddy? I want to show you my new room. And Maui wants to see you.”

Tears were gathering in Ben's brown eyes as he listened to his father. He handed the phone back to me and rushed to his

Dad came out of his room as I followed Ben down the hall.

“Problems? Need any help?” he asked.

I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad. I think I need to deal with this myself.”

Ben was sprawled across his bed, crying in the abandoned way children have.

“Why doesn't Daddy want to see me?” he asked.

I silently cursed Dave for putting me in the position of having to explain. “Daddy said he had to work.”

“All weekend?” Ben was a smart kid.

“I guess so. But, guess what, Benjy-bear? That means we get to spend more time together. So you can come help me do some gardening and meet some of the neighbors. How about that?”

Ben was a good-natured kid. He soon dried his tears and was smiling again.

He put on his shoes, and we went out into the hallway. As we were leaving our apartment, I saw someone heading to the door on the other side. She was a small Asian woman in her sixties, her chin-length dark hair heavily streaked with gray.

“Hi,” I greeted her. “Are you one of my neighbors? We've just moved into the co-op. I'm Rebecca Butler.”

I stuck out my hand, smiling in what I hoped was a friendly manner.

The woman scowled and hurried past me to the door on my left. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her with a bang that echoed through the hall.

I was disturbed by the way the woman had acted. But maybe she didn't speak English, or maybe she wasn't a neighbor after all, just someone visiting. She'd had shopping bags and looked like she belonged, but I thought there must be some explanation for her rudeness. I put it out of my mind.

We headed down to the lobby. Les had said that was where everyone was meeting before starting work on the garden.

It was right on the dot of ten o'clock when we got off the elevator and stepped into the lobby.

From what I'd heard about living in a co-op, I'd expected dozens of people. Had I got the location wrong? The office was closed on a Saturday, so there was no one to ask.

Had they already started work? Maybe everyone had arrived there early and was already in the garden.

I went outside to see if I could find anyone working in the yard. No one was there. The co-op's grounds didn't look like they needed too much attention. The large maple trees in front of the building had scattered some golden leaves on the front lawn. But the lawn itself was neatly trimmed, and I couldn't see any leaves in the flowerbeds that lined the building.

The only thing that marred the appearance of the building was a rusty white motor home parked directly in front of it. I remembered seeing it when we moved in, but it had been parked further down the block on that day. Today, it was parked in a spot
that would be a real problem for anyone wanting to move in or deliver something large.

The door to the motor home was hanging open. I couldn't tell if that meant someone was inside, or if it was broken. The door looked like it might drop off its hinges at any moment.

I looked around for anyone from the co-op. I did see the homeless woman I had met on the day I applied to move in. She was across the street staring at the building with a scowl on her face. She didn't have her shopping cart with her but I was sure it was the same woman.

I had tried to simplify our move as much as possible so I had given away a number of things I thought we wouldn't need in the new place. The small pendant she had given me was dirty and tarnished but I was reluctant to part with it. I wasn't superstitious, and didn't really believe that the good luck charm had helped us get into the co-op. And it was filthy and likely covered with germs.

But it seemed churlish to throw something out that the woman had pressed on me so urgently.

So I had cleaned it. When the charm was cleaned, the detail of the image was much clearer. It was an angel, the wings finely etched and long hair curling around a delicate face. The carving was much better than I would have expected from a cheap trinket. I had used some silver polish on both the charm and the chain and discovered that both were made of sterling silver. They were beautiful.

I felt dreadful, thinking that a homeless woman had unwittingly given me something that could be valuable. So I was pleased to see her now.

The woman gestured to me, indicating she wanted me to cross the street. I glanced down at Ben. I didn't want my son to be unaware that some other people weren't as fortunate as we were.
But I still wasn't sure I should introduce him to a woman who seemed to have some mental health problems. Could she be dangerous?

Ben pulled his hand away from mine as he noticed a car pulling up to the curb. “Daddy!' he yelled and ran across the grass.

As Dave got out of the car, I saw a sudden look of surprise on his face. He recovered quickly, bending down to catch Ben as he hurled himself into his father's arms. “Daddy, Daddy, you came after all!”

Ben took his father's hand and pulled him toward us, chattering all the time. “Hi, Dave,” I greeted him. “Didn't you have to work after all?”

“Um, yeah, Bec.” He was blushing a little. “Um, I hadn't realized that this was where you'd moved to. I guess I didn't recognize the address. I'm just here to pick up a colleague. I can't stay.

“Daddy, we're going to rake leaves,” Ben was saying. “Do you know how to rake leaves? Can you show me how?”

Dave bent down to his son's level. “I can't stay, Ben. I told you I had to work.”

“But I want to show you my new room. And Grandpa and Maui want to see you. Can't you stay, just for a minute?”

“Sure, for a minute. Why don't you show me this new room of yours?”

I opened the front door for them but didn't follow them back upstairs. Something was going on with Dave and I wanted to think about it. “Dad's upstairs, so he can let you in. Ben, you show Daddy the way to our new place.”

The woman who had given me the pendant was gone. I was about to cross the street to look for her when the front door opened and a woman hurried out.

She was pretty, probably in her late fifties, with dark hair and a round, rosy face. She was dressed in an outfit that was very similar to one Gwen, the president, had worn yesterday. Her loose linen pants and T-shirt were a lavender shade, covered with a short-sleeved knit top in a slightly darker shade. Silver earrings, set with amethysts, hung from her earlobes, and rows of silver bangles clinked together on one wrist. The outfit was similar to Gwen's but somehow it looked very different. The loose flowing layers had glided over Gwen's tall, thin frame. Similar wide-legged pants made this woman look shorter and wider than she actually was.

But her warm smile made her look lovely. As she approached, I could smell a sweet, flowery scent.

I had thought about what to wear to the work party. I wanted to make a good impression on my new neighbors. But it seemed silly to dress up to do garden work.

I had settled for beige capris and a T-shirt in a spring green. My canvas slip-on shoes were the same beige as the capris, with some light green trim. I had kept some of my mother's gardening equipment, and I managed to find a pair of gardening gloves and a trowel. I didn't have a rake, but I assumed the co-op would have the appropriate equipment.

“Are you here for the gardening work party?” she asked. When I nodded, she went on, a little breathlessly. “You just moved in to 505, right? I'm Mariana. I live next door.”

As I introduced myself, I realized she was the woman I'd seen on her balcony the day I first looked at the apartment.

“Have the others already started?” I asked. “Les said the gardening committee was organizing the work. Are they out back?”

“Oh, Rebecca . . . I think Les gets a little enthusiastic when he talks about the co-op. He really likes the idea, but I think
his view of the co-op is more what he wishes it would be, rather than what it's really like.”

"So, what's it really like?” I wondered.

“Well, this work party? It's probably just us.”

Just us?

“Yeah. Gwen, the president, might come. But the others? Probably not. You see, we have a lot of members living in this building, more than a hundred. But a few of them moved in when the co-op first got started more than thirty years ago. They're loyal members, but they're getting older. They're not coming out to work parties the way they might have done in the past. And some of the newer members just want an affordable place to live. They're too busy or just not interested in doing much around the co-op.”

“Oh. It's just that Les described it as a real community, with everyone involved. He made it sound so special.”

“Well, like I said, Les sort of looks at the co-op through rose-colored glasses. It's not really like that. But it's not really a problem for the work party. We hire people to do most of the maintenance. But some of us like to do some gardening, and we do a bit around here from time to time.”

She smiled warmly. “I always wanted a real garden, more than just balcony plants. I enjoy that. But I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression. You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

My mother had loved gardening. I hadn't shared that with her when she was alive, but somehow I wanted to learn more about it. Besides, it would be great to be outside.