Organized to Death (8 page)

Laura shrugged. “He was this way when he moved in with us. I’ve always thought it was either something he ate or nerves, or a little of both. Now I’m not so sure. What’s he got to be nervous about? And sometimes he eats something and gets sick; other times he eats the same thing with no problem.”

“Maybe he should see a doctor. When was the last time he did that?”

“Oh, years ago.” Laura wiped the scrubbed potatoes with a paper towel and set them at the back of the counter. She went to get a small casserole dish to put the vegetables in to microwave.

“Maybe he should go again. Maybe they know more now than they did back then.”

“Good idea. You talk to him. He won’t listen to me.”

“I will. Any phone calls?”

“Brandon called, and Hank. And Dr. Hockmann. I feel like a regular receptionist.”

“Sorry. Maybe I should get my own phone line.”

Her mother waved her hand at her. “Too much trouble. And boy would that confuse Princess.”

Tina laughed. The dog thought she should alert Uncle Bob every time the phone rang, even though he never answered it. Poor Uncle Bob had to stop whatever he was doing to see what she was alerting him to. It could be the front door, the smoke alarm, or the carbon dioxide alarm, so he always followed her. Most of the time it was the phone. Tina’s mother was a stickler for safety and had every alarm and alerting device she could buy in the house. Lights flashed when the doorbell or the telephone rang. Since Uncle Bob often burned things, the smoke alarm went off at an alarming rate. Princess was a hard-working dog.

“Well, just let the answering machine get the phone, then.”

“Tina, darling, sometimes it
is
for me, you know.”

Tina blushed a little. “Of course. I wasn’t thinking. Caller ID?”

Laura gave her a sour look.

Tina stood up and the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

The two police officers who had questioned them when she and Rachel found Crystal stood on the doorstep.

“We need to talk to you,” Lisbeth said, squaring her shoulders.

“Come in.” Tina’s throat closed up with fear. What did she have to be afraid of? She didn’t know, but the way they were looking at her, as if she were a bug they wanted to squash, made her nervous.

“Who is it?” her mother asked, coming into the foyer, wiping her hands on a towel.

“These are the police… um, people who came to Rachel’s house when Crystal was … “

Laura looked them both up and down in her most haughty manner. Tina didn’t know whether to be amused or more worried. It didn’t seem like a good idea to tick off the police.

“And you are here because?” she asked Lisbeth.

“We have a few questions for your daughter.”

“I don’t know what she could possibly tell you.”

“It will only take a few minutes,” John said. “We can do it here or at the station.” He stuck out his weak chin.

Laura retreated. “Come in, then.” She led them to the living room and sat down on the dark green couch.

The two officers now stood awkwardly near the doorway. Tina sat down on a chair opposite her mother and looked at them expectantly.

Finally Lisbeth strode over to the chair opposite Tina and sat down. Her feet barely touched the floor. John remained in the doorway.

“Tell us what you know about Mrs. Hudson. Any thoughts you might have on why someone would want her dead?” Lisbeth asked, opening her notebook and getting out a pen.

“You want gossip?” Laura asked before Tina could speak. “You’ve come to the wrong place for that.”

Tina looked at her mother and put her hand in her pocket to finger the worry stone.

“I don’t know any, anyway,” Tina said. “Crystal and I were friendly, we knew each other for years, but after she got married we sort of lost touch. When she found out I was a professional organizer, she contacted me for Rachel.”

She noticed John’s smirk. He still thought her new profession was silly. She’d like to reorganize his face.

“And that’s all Tina can tell you,” her mother said, folding her arms across her chest.

Don’t tick them off too much, Mother,
Tina thought.
I don’t want to be a suspect.

“I think you knew Mrs. Hudson a bit better than you’re telling us here,” Lisbeth said.

Laura bristled noticeably.
Chill
, Tina begged her silently.

“You went to her wedding,” Lisbeth continued. “You saw her socially at parties. Sometimes you had lunch together. As a matter of fact, we’ve been told that about a week ago you had a rather public argument with her.”

Tina blushed. Laura glowered. Tina remembered the argument, of course, but she’d never thought it would mean anything. They’d both gotten over it, had even apologized to each other when Crystal called to ask her help with Rachel’s house.

Tina picked her words carefully. “Crystal liked to run things. That was her style. And sometimes the rest of us objected. We’re planning a winter dance at the country club, and she wanted to do a Hawaiian theme. In Newport! It didn’t make sense to me, or to several other people at the planning committee meeting.”

“You hold committee meetings in the public dining room?”

“Yes.” Tina was surprised anyone would think that odd. It was the way it had always been done. “It’s very efficient. That way, we can eat and meet—do two things at once.”

No one smiled. Tina shrugged and quit talking. Let them ask questions. She forced herself to stop worrying the worry stone.

“So you argued about the theme for the next dance,” Lisbeth said.

“Yes. It wasn’t personal. Just a difference of opinion. We both apologized to each other when she contacted me to help her sister.”

“Anyone hear that conversation?” Lisbeth asked.

“No, it was a phone call.”

“What’s the theme going to be, then?” Lisbeth asked.

“Hawaiian,” Tina said. She admitted to herself she was still a bit angry about it. But Crystal usually got her way. Of course she had been gracious when she’d called Tina. She’d won, after all.

“You let her win?” her mother exclaimed.

Tina recoiled, both from her mother’s tone and because she’d said that in front of the police.

“It’s not a big deal. I was upset when she first brought it up, but I’m okay with it now.” Tina let go of the worry stone she was playing with again and crossed her fingers in her pocket.

“Harrumph,” her mother replied.

The cops followed this exchange, their eyes alive with interest.

“Do you own a gun, Ms. Shaw?” Lisbeth asked.

Tina and her mother gasped at the same time.

“Of course she doesn’t,” Laura said.

“Yes,” Tina admitted. It was registered, and she was sure the police came here knowing she owned a gun. It would be stupid to lie. Hank had bought it for her and taught her how to shoot. She was actually rather good.

Lisbeth flicked a glance at Laura, then asked, “Caliber?”

She was relentless. Tina was sure they knew all about the gun.

“It’s a twenty-two,” she said, her voice sounding defensive in her own ears. She shuddered. She could
not
imagine really shooting someone.

“Where’d you get a gun?” Laura asked.

“Hank gave it to me.”

“Hank who?” asked Lisbeth.

“Hank Silver.”

The officers exchanged glances. “You know Mr. Silver?” Lisbeth asked, her voice sounding strained to Tina.

“Yes. He’s a very good friend,” Tina said. Somehow she thought the officers knew more about Hank than she did, and they were impressed.

“I see. We need to take a look at the gun,” Lisbeth said.

“Okay.” On shaky legs, Tina rose and went upstairs to her bedroom.

John followed, talking as they went. “Don’t touch it. Just show me where it is. We’ll test it for fingerprints as well as ballistics.”

A chill ran through her. Could someone have taken her gun and used it on Crystal?

Her lips felt numb, and when they entered her bedroom, she merely pointed to the wicker nightstand’s drawer.

John opened the drawer. The spot where she kept the gun was empty.

Tina and John stood staring at the empty drawer. “You sure you put the gun in this one?” John asked. He opened the one beneath it. No gun.

He turned to look at her. The blood drained from her face and she felt faint. She plunked herself down on the bed. “Someone took it,” she said. But she knew the only people who would ever come into her bedroom were her mother and the maid. Perhaps Uncle Bob, but she couldn’t think why he would.

And, of course, Hank. He thought it amusing to climb up the old, sturdily-built trellis and onto her tiny balcony to surprise her. Boy, was she surprised right now.

“Mind if I search the rest of the room?” John asked.

“Go right ahead.” She prayed he’d find it. Damn Hank. She’d always thought guns were more trouble than they were worth. Here was the proof.

John was surprisingly neat as he started going through each of her drawers and her closet. After about ten minutes, Lisbeth appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Gun’s missing,” John muttered from inside the closet. “I’m searching for it. With Ms. Shaw’s permission, of course.”

Lisbeth nodded and gave Tina a long, searching look. Tina didn’t know whether to stare back defiantly or to cower in a corner. Cowering seemed more appealing right now.

While Lisbeth joined the search, Tina looked at the room with a critical eye for the first time in years. She still liked it, although there were some girlish touches she might want to get rid of later, like the stuffed giraffe and the children’s books in the small bookcase next to the window. Her mother, Uncle Bob, and Princess showed up. The humans hovered in the doorway, alternatively watching the police officers and looking at Tina. She couldn’t quite read their expressions. Princess sat quietly next to Uncle Bob.

John came out of the closet without the gun, and Lisbeth straightened up from looking under the bed.

“You have a dog,” John said. He looked nervous, and his small chin quivered.

“It’s my Uncle Bob’s hearing dog.”

“Hearing dog? What the hell is that?” He seemed more annoyed than Tina thought he should be. But she remembered he hadn’t known what a professional organizer was, either. Perhaps he didn’t like not knowing things.

Tina explained what the dog did. Both officers seemed interested, and Lisbeth bent to pet Princess. Uncle Bob didn’t say anything. Usually he’d tell people not to do that when Princess was working. John kept his distance.

“Well,” John said. “The gun’s not here. You want to take a guess where it might have disappeared to, Ms. Shaw?”

“I haven’t any idea. I guess someone must have stolen it.”

“And they got in without anyone knowing, including this dog?” He stood deep within the room, occasionally glancing at Princess.

“If Uncle Bob was out … “

“They knew where the gun was, and disturbed nothing.”

He was relentless, probably covering up his unease, Tina thought. She remained quiet.

“It’s an obvious place to keep it,” Laura said. “Anyone who knew Tina owned a gun could have guessed where she’d keep it.”

“But you, her mother, didn’t know she had a gun, did you? How many people knew, Ms. Shaw?”

All Tina could do was shake her head.

“Is she a suspect?” Uncle Bob asked suddenly. “If so, she needs a lawyer. Laura, go call Brandon.”

“Not Brandon,” Tina said.

Her mother and uncle stared at her. “Why not?”

She wasn’t sure. She knew she didn’t want to be beholden to him. She didn’t want him seeing she needed his help. Her fingers burned from rubbing the worry stone. She made herself stop.

“I’d just rather you didn’t,” Tina said.

“Your uncle is right,” Laura said. “You need a lawyer, and Brandon is one of the best. I’m calling him.”

Tina realized she’d rather have Hank than Brandon. Hank wouldn’t think she needed coddling. Hank would take charge and probably make the cops squirm. Brandon was part of the system. He might even think Tina was guilty of something. But Hank wasn’t a lawyer. At least she didn’t think he was.

Her mother went to her room down the hall to make the call, and the cops gave the room one last searching look.

But it appeared Lisbeth and John decided to give up. Tina didn’t know if it was because her mother was calling a lawyer, or if they simply didn’t have enough to go on. As they were leaving, Brandon drove up in his black BMW, a little fast, and parked in front of the house.

He spoke to the police a couple of minutes while Tina, her mother, and uncle stood inside waiting. Then he came up the front steps carrying his briefcase, looking tense but sturdy. He greeted everyone and they walked to the living room in silence.

After they sat down, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a yellow pad and a pen. “Tell me what happened.”

“Those police officers treated my daughter like a criminal,” Laura huffed, fingering her necklace. “They badgered her, Brandon.”

“That’s what cops do,” he said.

“They left,” Tina said. “They had no reason to question me anymore.”

“They left because we called a lawyer,” her mother said.

“You don’t know that. They might have left anyway. They didn’t find the gun. All they know is that I had a slight argument with Crystal a week before she died. I’m sure they’ll find other people who had arguments with her. It was common.”

“What gun?” Brandon said, ignoring the rest.

“The gun we didn’t know she had,” her mother said.

“Where’d you get a gun?” Brandon asked. His hand hovered over the legal pad, but he wasn’t writing anything.

“Hank gave it to me.”

Silence filled the room as if in the aftermath of a bomb dropping.

“Hank,” Brandon said.

Her mother made a disgusted sound.

Tina looked at the three of them. Dear Uncle Bob didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t. But her mother and Brandon made her angry. She didn’t know why. She had argued with Hank herself when he gave her the gun. Perversely, their disapproval made her like him more. She knew in her head it was irrational, but her heart went out to him for some reason. Perhaps because he wasn’t always so critical of her.