Murder Is Uncooperative (6 page)

“But doesn't that cause problems?”

Mariana smiled. “Yes, that can cause problems.”

I raised my hand.

“I'll make the motion,” I said. This wasn't how I'd planned on introducing myself to the co-op. I'd planned on feeling my way around, getting to know a few people, maybe joining a committee, making friends with my neighbors. This felt a lot like warfare.

But I wasn't inclined to let a bully get his way by shouting and intimidating his neighbors. And besides, I needed my parking spot.

I was pleased when Jeremy seconded the motion.

After asking if anyone else wanted to say anything, Gwen asked for a vote.

“All in favor?” Quite a few hands went up.

“Opposed?” No one raised their hands. The co-op members might not want to stand up to Aaron, but they didn't support him either.

“Motion carried,” Gwen announced. Turning to Les, she asked, “Can you draft a letter to him? I can sign it tomorrow. Next on the agenda is Cara's request to add a dog to her household.”

Cara stood up and smiled at the people in the room. “Well, it's just that my daughter saw this teacup poodle puppy she really wants. Her father's willing to buy it for her, but he doesn't want it to stay at his place. So I wondered if the co-op could bend the rules just a little.” She smiled again. “She's just crazy about that little dog.”

"Cara, the rules are very clear. We allow only one pet per household. That's what the members voted on.”

“But if the members voted for it, we could change our minds, right?”

Les leaned forward at the table. “There are procedures for how the co-op sets rules. If you want a change, there has to be proper notice given. And there would have to be good reasons to change the policy. But we could add it to the agenda at the next meeting, if you want to.”

“But that's months away,” Cara said, her voice shaking. “Are you saying my little girl can't have the pet she wants?”

“She already has a pet,” Les replied. “You already have a cat.

I suspected Cara's daughter had lost interest in the cat when it stopped being a cute little kitten. The puppy would probably suffer the same fate. Maybe waiting until the next meeting would solve the problem.

But Cara wasn't giving up. “Are you asking me to give up my cat? I can't believe you'd do that.” Tears spilled down her face. “What kind of a person are you?”

“No one's asking you to give up your cat,” Gwen explained. “The rules just say you can't have a dog too.”

“I can't believe you would be so mean to a small child.” Cara was openly sobbing now. The woman next to her was patting her shoulder in a comforting way.

“I move that we let Cara have a dog and a cat,” she said. “It's only a small dog, anyway.”

I was surprised when Jeremy seconded the motion.

“All in favor?” Gwen said. Hands shot up.

“Opposed?” Mine was the only hand that went up. Mariana looked at me and shrugged.

"Did people just vote to break the pet policy because she cried?” I asked her quietly.

“Yes,” she agreed. “As I said, you'll find that people can pretty much get their way with anything, if they approach the membership the right way.”

“So none of the rules are really followed?”

“Les does his best to keep us on track. And Gwen does realize we have rules for a reason. But she doesn't like conflict. Sometimes it's just easier to go along with what people want. Then, when we realize there are too many pets in one small space and there are complaints, we'll have another meeting and vote to allow only one pet per household. We've been through this before.”

The meeting ended shortly after that. The young woman named Anna hurried up to me.

“It's Rebecca, right? Welcome to the co-op. That was so cool the way you stood up to Aaron.”

“I'm surprised people put up with that kind of behavior.”

She laughed. “He yells a lot, and it can sound quite scary. People don't like to stand up to him. But I don't think he'd really be violent. Kevin can usually calm him down. He's a real sweetie. We all love Kevin.”

Seeing my puzzled look, she went on. “The guy sitting next to him? That's his partner, Kevin. Kevin mostly comes to meetings. Aaron doesn't come all that often. But I guess he knew we were going to talk about the motor home. People are getting quite fed up with it. He had it in the parking garage before, and we had so much trouble getting our van around it. I hope he finally moves it.”

She grinned at me. “Well, I should get Jordan home. But I'm really glad you moved in here, Rebecca. Maybe we could get together some time. I hear you have a little boy too.”

“Yes, Ben is four,” I answered.

"A bit too old for a play date with Jordan, then. But we could still get together, couldn't we? You could, you know, maybe answer some parenting questions if I need advice?”

“Sure, that'd be fun,” I answered. Anna seemed so young. She couldn't have been more than nineteen or twenty, and possibly younger. But it would be fun to get together some time.

She hurried off and I looked around the room. Gwen and Jeremy were still at the front of the room, talking to Les. Mariana was chatting to some of the other members, so I headed home on my own. But as I was opening my door, I heard the elevator and saw Naomi getting off. I really wanted to make friends in the co-op. I felt like I was making a good start with Mariana and Anna, but it bothered me that Naomi seemed to dislike me for something really not my fault.

I hoped I could clear things up.

“Um, hi, Naomi,” I started hesitantly. “Can we talk? We seem to have got off on the wrong foot, and I'd really like to be a good neighbor.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said. “I don't like your type.”

“But you don't know me. I'm sorry your daughter didn't get this apartment, but I really didn't have anything to do with the decision.”

“Well, my daughter wasn't willing to sleep with the manager!”

I was dumbfounded. “Of course not. Did someone suggest that? That'd be completely inappropriate.”

“Well, that didn't stop you.”

“What did you just say? Why would you even think that? I'd never sleep with Les to get an apartment, and I don't think he's the kind of man who would even suggest it.”

“That's not what he said,” she answered and slammed her door in my face.

I went into my apartment, but I couldn't help thinking about what Naomi had said. Had Les really implied I'd slept with him to get the apartment? Or had he propositioned Naomi's daughter, holding out the promise of the apartment if she agreed? Both seemed unlikely.

I wondered if Les or Gwen were still downstairs, clearing up after the meeting. Maybe they could explain why Naomi had said what she had. Or perhaps they could give me some advice on how to get along with my neighbor. I took the elevator back down to the office.

The meeting room was deserted. At first glance, I thought the office was closed, but then I saw that the door was slightly ajar. I pulled it open and peered in, calling Les's name.

I almost tripped over one of the storage boxes that had lined the wall of the office, waiting to be put into storage.

The boxes, which had been stacked neatly against the wall, providing some order in the chaotic office, were now scattered in piles around the room. It was as if some giant toddler had used them as building blocks and then had a tantrum, throwing the boxes around and piling them in random heaps.

I looked around the room, wondering if I could start piling the boxes back against the wall in some sort of order or if I should call someone to help.

What had happened here anyway?

Knowing Les's odd method of storing things in the office, maybe this was his idea of organizing things.

Then I noticed a pair of denim-clad legs sticking out from the largest pile. The legs were twisted at an odd angle, ending in a pair of scuffed brown suede shoes.

I stood still for a moment, not quite believing what I was seeing. Then I grabbed one of the boxes and tried to shift it. The thing was heavier than it looked. I needed help.

I looked around for the office phone but couldn't see it anywhere. I started for the door when I remembered I still had my cell phone in my jacket pocket.

“Police, fire or ambulance?” the 911 dispatcher asked.

“I need an ambulance,” I told her. “There's been an accident.”

I gave the address, then ran down the hall to pound on the door I thought was Gwen's. “The office,” I gasped when she answered the door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “I need help.”

“Rebecca, what on earth . . . ?” But I was already running back down the hallway. Gwen followed. She still had the dishtowel in her hand when she got to the office, but she dropped it when she saw the legs under the pile of boxes.

“Oh, no, I think that's Les.”

We were able to shift the heavy boxes together, lifting them off quickly and piling them to the side. But when we pulled the last box off him we could see that he wasn't moving and that blood was pooling around his head.

“Do you think someone broke in?” she asked. “There's stuff all over the place, but there usually is. All these boxes.”

“Maybe he was trying to get something in one of the boxes, and they fell over,” I said.

"I knew this office wasn't safe. I should have done something. But every time I brought up how cluttered the office was, Les would just say he was going to get to it soon. He had a million excuses. He was going to sort through the stuff and get rid of it; he just needed to get the storage room painted. Now look!”

“I called the ambulance, but we should probably do something.”

Les was lying face down and I could see a huge wound on the back of his head. Blood stained the fringe of dark hair that circled his bald spot and trickled to the floor. I know head wounds could bleed heavily, even if they weren't serious. But this looked like a lot of blood. I picked up the dishtowel Gwen had dropped and pressed it against Les's head.

She shuddered. “All that blood.”

I could hear Les taking raspy breaths. Then they were drowned out by the sound of an approaching ambulance, and I sighed with relief.

Gwen looked a bit greenish. “I'll go let them in.”

I was relieved when the paramedics took charge, loading Les onto a stretcher and wheeling him out. They moved quickly, and I worried about the serious looks on their faces.

The elderly woman I'd seen at the meeting peeked out from the door of one of the ground floor units. She was wrapped in a bathrobe, and wisps of her hair stood up like she'd just woken up. She had a scared look on her face.

“We've had an accident, but everything's been taken care of,” Gwen assured her. “You can go back to sleep.”

Gwen still looked too pale.

“Do you want to go back to your place and sit down? You look a little shaky.”

She shook her head.

"I guess we need to notify his family. They'll want to be with him.”

“Does he have a wife and kids?”

“You know, I have no idea. Les has worked here for longer than I've lived here, but he never really talked about himself. We must have some contact information in the files,” she said. “Can you help me look?”

The filing cabinets were unlocked. Gwen frowned at that. “These are supposed to be kept locked. Ruth usually handles the filing, but Les might have been looking for something,” she said. “We just need to find the staff records.”

We each took one of the file cabinets. I found a file marked P
ERSONNEL
. I handed it to Gwen, and she started to leaf through the sheets of paper.

“Oh, here it is,” she said with relief. “And he does have an emergency contact listed. Oh, that's odd.” She looked up. “He's listed an emergency contact, but the person he's listed is Ruthie.”

“He's related to Ruth?” I asked.

“Well, not that I knew, and that wouldn't really be appropriate. He supervises her work. But she was hired before I got on the Board, so I don't know. Maybe he just listed her because he doesn't have family nearby.

“Anyway, I guess I need to call her and let her know.” She looked around the room. “It probably would be a good idea to clean up this mess, but I just can't handle it right now. I'll just lock up and we can deal with it tomorrow.”

She was just locking the office door when I saw Mariana coming down the hallway.

“Did something happen?” she asked. “I heard a siren.” Then she gasped. “Oh, my goodness, Rebecca, are you all right?” She hurried toward me.

I looked down to see what she was looking at. My pants and T-shirt were streaked with blood, and the palms of my hands were covered with it.

I looked down at my hands in horror. “I . . . no, Les was the one who was hurt.”

Gwen grimaced. “I think there was blood on the boxes we moved.” She looked at her own hands and wiped them off on her jade green sweater, smearing it with small streaks of blood. “You were closer to him, trying to stop the bleeding.” She gulped and looked for a moment like she was going to throw up. “I better call Ruthie,” she muttered and hurried down the hall toward her apartment.

Mariana looked at me with concern. “Are you really all right?” she asked.

“I'm not hurt but it was a shock finding him like that.”

“What happened? You said Les was hurt?”

“I don't know. Gwen seemed to think someone might have broken in. I suppose someone could have got in and thought there might be money in the office. But I don't know how you would tell if anything's missing. I think maybe the boxes fell on him.”

I realized I was shaking.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Mariana said, stepping toward me. She put a comforting arm around me and I leaned into her. Her scent was something powdery and floral, not the Chanel my mother had favored, but I was instantly reminded of the hugs my mother had given me whenever I was feeling down.