Molly shook her head. “See there?” she said. “It’s hopeless.”
“Yes,” Ali said. “I can see that. When did you last see Gemma?”
Ali’s question was directed at Molly, but Doris was the one who answered. “It was tonight, wasn’t it? I’m sure Gemma was here just a little while ago.”
“No, Mama,” Molly said patiently to Doris. “That’s not right. She didn’t come by today.” To Ali, she added, “The last time I saw Gem was on Monday afternoon. We played tennis in the afternoon, and then we had a drink in the bar afterward.”
Under the circumstances, Ali thought tennis sounded like an excellent idea. Considering the caregiving burden Molly Handraker was facing at home, the thought of being out in the sun and hitting something, or even just hitting
“How was Gemma that day?” Ali asked. “Did she seem upset about anything? Worried? Out of sorts?”
“No, not at all. We played down at the club-the country club. She beat me in straight sets. She had a lot more time to play tennis recently than I did.”
“Which country club?” Ali asked.
“Paradise Valley,” Molly answered, as though any other choice were ludicrous. “I don’t remember the exact time. Three-thirty or so, I think. They’ll have exact time at the reservation desk. We met there, played, stopped in the clubhouse for a drink or two, and then I came home. I had some help to look after Mama that night, so I didn’t have to rush. But that was the last time I saw her. On Tuesday, she had a tennis date with another friend of ours- Valerie Sloan.”
Ali held up a finger, pausing Molly’s statement long enough to make a note of the name and contact information which Molly supplied from memory.
“When Gemma didn’t show up for their match,” Molly continued, “Val went by Gemma’s place to check on her. Her car was in the garage. Her front door was unlocked and standing open. The alarm wasn’t on. Gemma’s purse and car keys were there, and so was her phone, but she wasn’t. That seemed odd enough that Val called the cops to report her missing.”
“No sign of a struggle at the apartment?”
“It’s a town house, not an apartment,” Molly corrected. “Just a couple of miles from here off Camelback. According to what Val told me, there was no sign of a struggle. Nothing was out of place, and there were no signs of forced entry, and apparently, nothing of value was taken. Her jewelry was in the box on the dresser in the bedroom; her computer and printer were in the office. Val said it was like Gemma simply walked out of her place and disappeared into thin air.”
“It sounds like this makes you one of the last people to see her alive?” Ali asked.
“I suppose,” Molly agreed. “I left her at the clubhouse about six-thirty or seven.”
“Was she with anyone when you left?”
Molly shook her head. “Not that I noticed. We had been sitting at the bar. You could probably ask the bartender. His name is Luis.”
“What was Gemma’s home address?”
Molly recited it, and Ali jotted it down.
Doris, who had dozed off briefly, awakened with a start. “What’s going on?” she wanted to know.
Molly heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Mama, please,” she said patiently. “We’re talking about Gemma.”
“What about her?” Doris asked. “Where is she, and where’s Chipper? Wherever Gemma is, he’s probably there, too.”
“She’s not with Chip, Mama. Gemma’s dead, and Chip’s in jail in Prescott,” Molly explained.
“In jail?” Doris was aghast. “Why on earth would he be in jail? This is serious. We have to do something about it.”
“We already did do something about it, Mama, but you probably don’t remember. I called Matt Greenburg earlier today and asked him to go up to Prescott to look into the situation. That’s why this lady is here asking questions. She’s working on an article about it.”
“So things are under control?” Doris worried.
“As much as they can be,” Molly said.
“Let’s go back to Monday,” Ali resumed. “You were aware that Lynn Martinson spent the night here on Monday?”
“She spends most nights here. I don’t approve, but there’s not much we can do about it,” Molly said. “She comes late, leaves early. For the time being, she and Chip have settled for sneaking around. Not very dignified, if you ask me.”
“What’s not dignified?” Doris asked.
“Chip and Lynn.”
“Lynn?” Doris sounded genuinely puzzled. “Who’s Lynn?”
“You know who Lynn Martinson is,” Molly admonished. “You met her that one time after the concert. She’s Chip’s girlfriend.”
“His girlfriend?” Doris echoed, visably shocked. “You’re saying Chip has a girlfriend? How can he? He’s married. Gemma won’t tolerate such a thing, and neither will I. I’ll disown him if I have to. I’ll write him right out of my will.”
Molly said nothing. Clearly, the woman’s patience with her mother was stretched to the breaking point.
“Did you hear any vehicles come and go during the night?” Ali asked.
“No,” Molly said, “but we wouldn’t, anyway. Once Mama takes out her hearing aids, she turns her television set up so loud, it blasts you into the next county. She sleeps right through it. Besides, our bedrooms are over there.” She pointed to the far side of the living room. “The driveway to the casita is at the other end of the house, so we didn’t hear any cars coming and going, and we certainly didn’t hear anyone coming into the kitchen for the knife.”
“Knife?” Ali repeated. “What knife?”
“The murder weapon-a Henckels boning knife. I guess I’m supposed to say ‘the alleged murder weapon.’ They found it in Lynn Martinson’s trunk, and the boning knife from Mama’s Henckels set in the kitchen is currently missing from the knife block. As I told the detective earlier, for all we know, that knife could have been missing for months. When Chip moved into the casita, he came with the clothes on his back, and that was about it. Mama and I had Consuelo outfit him with whatever extras he needed from here.”
“Who’s Consuelo?”
“Mother’s maid. Used to be full-time, but shortly after Chip came home, I had to let her go. Keeping her on was too expensive. At the time he was moving back in, I had her pack up some of Mama’s extra linens, dishes, silverware, pots and pans, and take them over to the casita so he could use them. If it turns out it was our knife that the cops found in the back of the car, that’s possibly where it came from-the stuff Consuelo sent over to his place, not from someone sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night to grab a knife.”
Ali thought about how Molly and Doris had bypassed the alarm keypad on their way into the house. “What about your alarm system?” she asked. “If people were coming and going from the casita overnight, wouldn’t your alarm have sounded?”
“There’s no longer an active alarm system on the property,” Molly said. “We used to have one, but it turned into too much of a hassle. Before I got Mother’s sleep meds adjusted, she kept getting up during the night, wandering around the house, and punching buttons right and left. She’d be thinking she was turning the AC up or down or the heat on or off when she was really punching the keypad on the alarm. Finally, after several false alarms, we had to turn the system off.”
“You keep your doors locked, don’t you?” Ali asked.
“Of course,” Molly snapped. “Without the alarm, we’d be stupid not to, but I have a master key, and so does Chip. I’m betting that’s what she used.”
“She?”
“Lynn Martinson,” Molly said in exasperation. “Who do you think? The blood was found in her car. The knife was found in her car. I find that pretty compelling evidence.”
“You’re convinced that Lynn Martinson is the murderer, then?” Ali asked. “You don’t believe your brother had anything to do with it?”
“No,” Molly said. “Chip could never be a murderer. He doesn’t have it in him.”
