“What about love?”
“Love, too.” My cheeks warmed. “I have a great guy, Abe. Yeah, love’s good, too.”
“I’m glad. Jeanine would have been so happy to know you’ve found someone.”
She would. I blew out a breath. “Liz, earlier Carmen mentioned she’d heard something was fishy about Mom’s death. Do you know what she was talking about?”
Liz waited a beat. “Did Jeanine ever tell you about the environmental group she was involved with?”
“No. I don’t think she did. Did they have something to do with her death?”
“Hang on. Let me talk this through. The group—and your mom—were trying to get certain agricultural chemicals banned from the region. They made a couple of conventional farmers and the chemical company pretty mad.”
A little girl of about six, bucket in hand, dashed directly in front of us toward the water, followed closely by a boy the same size.
“Kids never look where they’re going.” Liz gave a wry laugh. “Anyway, after your mom died, one of the guys in the group contacted me. He knew she and I were friends. He had a lot of questions about the circumstances of her death.”
“What?” I stared at her. “What kinds of questions?”
She gazed at me. “Maybe you should ask him yourself. His name’s Paul Etxgeberria. I’ll text you his info and how to spell his name, which is Basque or something.”
“Mom died alone of an aneurysm. What else is there to know?” I threw my hands open. “Would a medical examiner have gotten it wrong?”
Liz paused for a few moments. “I was the one who found her.”
I nodded slowly, my eyes on the horizon. Four boxy oil rigs rose up about ten miles out. Behind them the Channel Islands were clear today, especially Santa Cruz, the largest. Its twenty-two miles of gently sloping ridges rose up like a giant blue woman sleeping on the water. Liz had found my mom lying down, too, but not asleep.
“I was supposed to pick her up for book group and she didn’t answer the door or her phone.” Liz’s voice was low and somber. “We’d given each other keys years before, just in case. I let myself in and discovered her on the kitchen floor. She’d been gone a while, I guess.”
“You told me about finding her when I came out for her memorial service, but I had forgotten until now. Or maybe I subconsciously blanked it out.” I swiped at a tear. “Was there something odd about the way she was lying there, or did her breath smell funny? I mean, I thought she simply fell down dead.”
“That was what it looked like. I didn’t notice anything odd. But I think you should talk to Paul. Here, let me send you his info now.” She sank to sit on the sand and worked her phone.
I took a few steps to the water. Nobody was out there swimming for a reason. The water lapping over my feet was frigid, but for my entire life I’d never let myself visit a beach without dipping a toe in the ocean, winter or summer. I backed up a few steps to watch a tern dive-bomb the water and come up with a fish wriggling in its black beak.
I couldn’t believe my mother hadn’t died of natural causes. Her death had been an enormous shock, because she’d been healthy and in her fifties. But if this guy Liz knew had suspicions about her death, that would mean murder, and I didn’t want that. The thought that someone might have wanted Mom dead, that malice had dive-bombed her, made me shudder.
I tried to shake off the feeling. As I watched the ocean, a sleek body farther out dipped in and out of the water, followed by three more.
“Look, Liz. Dolphins.” I pointed. “We sure don’t see those in Indiana.”
“Nice.” She boosted herself up to stand. “I told Paul you might call him. He texted back that their group is meeting this afternoon at two, said you’re welcome to join them.”
“I’ll contact him, thanks. I at least want to hear what he has to say.” I’d planned to go for a hike in the mountains this afternoon, or maybe borrow one of the bikes Carmen had available for guests and ride up the coast a ways. I would be here all week. Such a ride could wait. And tomorrow I’d ask Jason if he could put me in touch with the person who declared Mom’s death a natural one. I wished I could hire Kinsey Millhone to dig into this mystery. I’d read that the Santa Teresa Sue Grafton had invented was a thinly disguised Santa Barbara. But since Kinsey was fictional, I was going to have to do this myself.
Chapter 6
After I locked the bike I’d borrowed from Carmen for a ride around the city, I meandered toward the lake in the middle of Alice Keck Park, a green oasis downtown. I checked the time on my phone. Paul had said he would find me here at four after his meeting, so I told him what I looked like. He’d invited me to attend his gathering first, but hanging out with environmentalists wasn’t what I was after. I only wanted to hear his thoughts about my mother’s death. It was nearly four, and the winter sun was already on its decline. I shivered and pulled the zipper on my fleece all the way up. I hoped he wouldn’t be late. The bike didn’t have a light, so I needed to get back to Carmen’s before darkness fell in an hour and a half.
A ratty sleeping bag stuck out from behind a tall silver maple tree, and a head of matted hair was nearly hidden in the bag. I’d seen other homeless people around town, many more than had been in evidence ten years ago. The economy was taking its toll, and in a warm climate like this one, it wasn’t life threatening for
