“That’s a bit of a complicated story.” Miguel opened the glass door and allowed Rosa to step ahead. The lobby acted as a waiting room with chairs lining the walls and well-worn speckled linoleum on the floor. Miguel guided her down a corridor towards the back of the building.
“Let me guess,” Rosa said quietly once they were out of earshot of bustling nurses and shuffling patients. “It involves a rich uncle who doesn’t like Melvin Philpott because of a ruling on a suicide case.”
Miguel came to a stop and stared down at her with a look of astonishment. “How did you know that?”
Rosa smirked and continued. “There’s also a will involved, along with the fact that Shirley Philpott could now be the sole beneficiary of a large amount of wealth due to Florence Adams’s death.”
“If you have a crystal ball, then yes, I am threatened by you joining this case. That’s an unfair advantage! Santa Bonita Police Department might have a budget for one session with a tarot card reader, maybe, but not for a crystal ball. Those things aren’t cheap!”
Rosa laughed. “No crystal ball. Just a slightly drunk, near-sighted bass player.”
“Aha,” Miguel thought for a moment, then continued walking. “The gig at the American Legion last night. Mr. Mendez had one too many.”
“Nicely done, Mr. Holmes.”
“Raul does the accounting for William Lawrence, so that’s how he found out about all that. He brought it to my attention. I guess I should’ve told him to keep the information to himself.”
Rosa understood. It was human nature to share gossip. “Okay, so we have motive and opportunity, but no means yet. Is that correct? Since Miss Adams didn’t drown, it means Mrs. Philpott didn’t push her off the pier.”
“We are hoping test results from the lab will point to means,” Miguel replied.
“Shirley Philpott is the Chief Medical Examiner’s wife. I’m guessing you haven’t let the media know about this?” Rosa tapped her notebook with her pen.
“No, not yet. I’m hoping to avoid the press for now, but I have already received several phone calls from local papers. They’ve all gotten the standard comments from me about it being too soon for details on the investigation.”
“Have you found out who the mystery man is that I saw arguing with the victim at the foot of the stairs on the beach? He seemed very suspicious.”
They reached a set of steel doors with a sign on one of them that read ”MORGUE”.
“He’s a person of interest that we are looking for,” Miguel said. “No sign of him yet.”
The first thing Rosa saw as they entered the Santa Bonita City Morgue was a sterile waiting room and two glass-walled offices. A nameplate on one was inscribed Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Melvin Philpott, and the other Dr. Larry Rayburn, Assistant Medical Examiner.
A pretty nurse approached and smiled. “Hello, Detective.”
“I’m looking for Dr. Rayburn.”
“I’m afraid he’s stepped out for a moment. Would you like to make an appointment?”
“Just let him know I’ve dropped by.”
Miguel let the door close behind them as they stepped back into the corridor. “Forgive me for not introducing you. She’s an intern, and I’d rather keep certain things close to my chest for now.”
Rosa understood. She was disappointed that the pathologist was unavailable but that didn’t keep her mind from dwelling on the case. She glanced down at her notebook and with a grimace brought up the next notation. “What do you know about Vanessa Forrester?”
“The woman who found the body? Yes, I questioned her at the beach. She was quite distraught, but she claims to have seen nothing, and we have no reason to doubt that.”
“You’re probably aware that she was once married to my cousin, Clarence.”
Miguel caught her gaze and nodded. “And she’s the former daughter-in-law of your Aunt Louisa, who insisted you be brought on to this case.”
Rosa tapped her lips with her pen. “A rather interesting coincidence.”
“Agreed.”
“Wouldn’t that make my involvement in the case a conflict of interest?”
Miguel paused, his palm on the door of the exterior door, ready to push. “At the moment, neither your aunt nor your cousin are persons of interest.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Rosa said.
Miguel narrowed his gaze. “What do you mean?”
Rosa hesitated. If she was going to work this case with Miguel, she had to share every bit of information she knew, even if it came back to haunt her. The night before, at the Legion, Raul Mendez hadn’t been the only one to have one too many. Gloria had gotten a little too happy herself. Rosa didn’t know if her cousin remembered what she’d said, but Rosa hadn’t forgotten how shocked she’d felt at hearing the news.
“What is it, Rosa?” Miguel prompted.
“My cousin Clarence and Florence Adams once dated.”
10
Rosa followed Clarence—who drove the 1955 bright-red Ford Fairlane, from the Forresters’ fleet of cars—into the sizeable six-car garage. Gloria, with a hint of mockery, had told her that Clarence had made a show of attending specific board meetings as if his presence was significant. Rosa was certain Clarence was right, though, like his sister, Rosa didn’t think that Clarence believed it. Easing out of the driver’s seat, Clarence tugged on the lapels of his shiny slate-blue suit jacket and straightened his narrow black tie then narrowed his eyes at Rosa.
Rosa put the car into park and turned off the ignition, cutting the song Rockin’ Robin out mid-chorus. She did a double-take when her gaze landed on the 1941 Schwinn Deluxe Hollywood bicycle parked in the corner. Rosa could see it had been kept shining clean. A wire basket was fastened to the front fender and handlebars, and a small ringer sat on the left handgrip. A chromium finish sparkled on the rims. Rosa loved this bike. When she was fifteen, too young to drive a car, the Schwinn had become a symbol of personal freedom. She’d often ridden it down the main street or to the
