“What’s this about a murder?” Doris asked, once again rousing herself like a hopelessly broken record. Whatever information she gathered one minute was erased the next. “Who are you talking about?”
“We’re talking about Gemma, Mama,” Molly explained again. “About what happened to her.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, Mama. It’s not important. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Ali was still focused on the knife. Dave hadn’t mentioned anything about investigators finding a knife in Lynn’s vehicle. Ali wondered if Paula Urban knew about it.
“Anyway,” Molly continued, “when the detective showed up with his search warrant and a crime scene team this afternoon, I had to let them in, and they were dusting everything with that ugly fingerprint powder.”
“That’s when they told you about the knife?”
Molly nodded. “They didn’t say much of anything to me. They were still here when Mama and I left for dinner, but they must have left before you got here.”
“If they’re not treating the casita as a crime scene,” Ali said, “that means that whatever happened to Gemma didn’t happen in the casita and, according to what you said, apparently not in Gemma’s town house, either. So where’s the crime scene?”
“In the trunk, maybe?” Molly said. “Detective Holman seems to think Gemma was spirited away from her town house sometime in the middle of the night, after she got home from the bar. He thinks she may have left there voluntarily, most likely with someone she knew.”
“She may have left her town house voluntarily,” Ali observed, “but she didn’t get in the trunk voluntarily. So does Lynn Martinson qualify as someone Gemma knew?”
“I suppose,” Molly said, “and not necessarily in a good way. Chip and Gemma got into an argument out in the yard a couple of weeks ago. Lynn ended up being right in the middle of it.”
“What kind of argument?”
“Over a real estate deal of some kind. Chip needed Gemma to sign a sales document, and she refused. Words were exchanged. When I went outside to check on what was going on, Lynn was saying something to the effect that if Gemma didn’t stop tormenting Chip, she would figure out a way to put a stop to it. Gemma said the only way she’d be done messing with Chip was when she was dead.”
“You told the detective about that?”
Molly nodded. “I did. It sounded too much like a direct threat to me. Given what’s happened, I couldn’t very well ignore it.”
“From what you’re saying, you think your brother isn’t capable of doing something like this, but you think Lynn is?”
“Look,” Molly said, “my brother is probably the best thing that ever happened to Lynn Martinson. With the divorce keeping him strapped for cash, I can see her thinking that if Gemma was out of the way, she’d have a clear shot at taking Chip to the altar.”
“Could your mother have helped him with some of those money issues?”
“She could, but she didn’t in the past, and she isn’t going to in the future,” Molly said determinedly. “Chip made his own mess, and I told him that he needs to clean it up on his own.”
“I take it you’re handling your mother’s finances, then?”
“Yes,” Molly said. “For right now, I’m the one writing the checks and paying the bills. I want to make sure her money doesn’t run out before she does.”
“What about the defense attorney you sent riding to your brother’s rescue today?” Ali asked.
“I did do that,” Molly agreed. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I let him take the fall for something his girlfriend did. Besides, if Mother were in her right mind, I’m sure that’s what she would have done, too. She would have regarded it as money well spent.”
Doris sat up and blinked. “What money?” she asked.
“The money we spent on Matt Greenburg?”
“Matt Greenburg the lawyer?” Doris asked with a frown.
Molly nodded. “Yes, Mama.”
“Matt was one of your father’s good friends, but I never liked him much,” Doris said. “He’s one of those defense attorneys, isn’t he? The kind who are always getting crooks out of jail and helping them get off on technicalities?”
“Maybe,” Molly agreed. “About the technicalities.”
Before Ali had time to ask another question, Doris Ralston levered her rail-thin frame off the sofa and headed out of the room.
“Where are you going, Mama?” Molly asked.
“I’m going to go check on Gemma and see if she’s still sleeping in the car.”
“She’s not!” Molly insisted. “She’s not sleeping anywhere, Mama! How many times do I have to tell you? Gemma is dead. Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
Nodding, Doris reversed direction and started back across the room. “So where’s my book?” she asked. “Have you seen where I put it?”
“It’s right here where you left it, on the coffee table.” Reaching over, Molly picked up what appeared to be a wedding album and handed it to her mother, who clutched it to her breast.
“Sorry,” Molly apologized to Ali, getting to her feet. “When she gets too tired, things get worse. I’m going to have to get her to bed now. I’m sorry we got off to such a bad start earlier.”
“That’s all right,” Ali said easily. “You had no idea who I was. Considering everything that’s happened, I easily could have been someone who was up to no good.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
“I think so,” Ali answered.
“Well, if there’s anything else, you’re welcome to call.” Molly reeled off a telephone number, which Ali jotted into her iPad.
After Molly and Doris left the room, Ali slipped her iPad into her purse and let herself out of the house. She had given Molly a card earlier, but she dropped another one on the entryway table on her way out.
After leaving Upper Glen Road, Ali drove back down to the hotel at Twenty-fourth and Camelback. Forty-five minutes later, showered and wearing her little black dress and a pair of suitable heels, Ali walked into Morton’s on B.’s arm.
“Are we celebrating a special occasion tonight?” the hostess asked as she seated them and handed out menus.
“Yes, we are,” B. said with a grin. “We’re continuing to celebrate the launch of a brand-new partnership.”
20
Chip Ralston’s mother has Alzheimer’s?” B. asked thoughtfully as he sliced into his thick hunk of medium-rare prime rib. “I remember Beatrice Hart mentioning that Chip’s father had died, but I don’t think she said anything about his mother.”
“She’s suffering dementia issues of some kind, even if what she has isn’t straight-out Alzheimer’s,” Ali answered. “The whole time I was talking to Molly, Doris would be asleep one minute and awake the next. And each time she woke up, she had no idea what was going on. It has to be driving her daughter nuts. And I have a feeling Beatrice didn’t know about Doris Ralston’s condition because I doubt her daughter knows about Doris’s condition. I suspect Chip never told her.”
“Why not?” B. sounded surprised. “After what happened to Lynn’s father, why wouldn’t he talk to her about that?”
Ali shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m supposed to be in Lynn Martinson’s corner, but all I’ve managed to do so far is turn up evidence of another whole level of betrayal. She finally worked up enough courage to fall in love
