Booby Trap (16 page)

I let out a deep breath, not even aware I had been holding it. “Asphyxiation? She suffocated?”

“Yes, Odelia, she was suffocated.”

It was my turn to fiddle with my beverage glass. As I poked my lemon slice down to the bottom with my straw, I came to a conclusion.

“Dev, Lisa Luke cannot go home alone. It’s too dangerous. Harper may snatch her like he did Laurie.”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

At least this time
when I took in a stray, I’d had the good manners to talk to Greg first. I had filled him in earlier about Gordon Harper and his threat to Lisa, so he wasn’t surprised when I called and suggested she bunk with us for a while, at least until Dev and his men could do their job and pin Laurie’s murder on Harper and remove the threat to Lisa.

After confirming our plans, Dev and I returned to Lisa’s room. With Dev’s backup, I told her that Greg and I wanted her to stay with us, at least for a couple of days. Dev would talk to her doctor about not releasing her until I could pick her up. I figured I could do that after my visit with Lil.

When Lisa demurred, Dev let out a big, frustrated sigh. After closing the door to her room, he indicated for me to go to her side, knowing what he had to say would be a huge shock. After I positioned myself in the chair next to her bed, Dev filled her in on who we thought might have killed Lisa and why, and how Kirk was involved. Lisa was as still as a mannequin through it all. Finally, she stirred and looked from me to Dev.

“So all that guilt Kirk poured out this morning wasn’t just something to make me feel better? He really is connected with Laurie’s death?”

“It looks like a good possibility.” Dev kept his voice low and tender, but all business. “Kirk is probably involved with something illegal, and his contacts may have killed her to send him a message—to get him to do what they wanted. We don’t know exactly what it is, but it involves his trips to Africa. We don’t know if your sister was directly involved herself. She could have been.”

“No, Laurie would never do anything illegal. It just wasn’t her character. She didn’t even fudge on her taxes.” Lisa paused. “And I always thought Kirk was the same way.”

I leaned forward. “Did Laurie or Kirk ever say anything about money—about getting any or maybe having a lot in the future?”

Lisa closed her eyes. I didn’t know if she was trying to escape into the black hole of sleep or thinking. Shortly, her eyes opened.

“There was one odd thing back a couple of months ago. Laurie and I were discussing what to do with our condo after she and Kirk married. I offered to take out a loan to buy out her half in a lump sum so that she could have money to put towards a new place for them, but she said not to worry about it. Laurie said that Kirk told her they would have enough money to buy whatever they wanted, so I could take my time buying her out.” Lisa gave a short, sad chuckle. “I remember asking her how Kirk was going to manage that, given the Southern California real-estate market. Laurie laughed and said she didn’t know, but they were either going to have a great place of their own or be living with me.”

There was a short silence again before Lisa turned to me with wide eyes. “But I can’t go stay with you, Odelia. If I’m in danger, you might be also. You and your husband.”

“Ms. Luke,” Dev said, stepping closer, “do you have any family you might be able to stay with, preferably someone outside of California? Although staying with Greg and Odelia would be better than staying in your own home, getting out of town would be the best. At least for a few days.”

She shook her head. “Lisa and I had no family, just each other. Not even a stray cousin. Kirk’s family had become ours.” Her eyes welled with tears. “But it’s safe to say that’s over now, considering the circumstances.”

“Then it’s off to our place.” I gave her a big smile. “Muffin will be happy to see you.”

Lisa didn’t return my smile. “Muffin. You know, Odelia, I would really rather you kept her, even after I return home.”

After telling Lisa I’d be back the next afternoon to chauffeur her to Seal Beach, Dev and I walked together to the elevator.

He punched the down elevator button for me. “Odelia, inside I’m not happy about Lisa Luke going home with you. As she pointed out, it puts both you and Greg in possible danger.”

“But she has no one else, Dev. And no matter where she goes, someone might be in danger.”

“True.” He ran his hands through his curly hair. “If we weren’t so short-handed right now, I’d have an officer go home with her and keep you out of it.”

The elevator came. It was empty. Just as I stepped inside, Dev grabbed my arm. “One more thing. Under no circumstances are you to go to Lisa’s apartment, with or without her. Harper may have it staked out to grab her.”

Yikes! I hadn’t thought of that.

“Buy her new clothes, loan her some of yours, I don’t care. Just
do not
go to her place. And that’s not a suggestion. That’s an order.”

As much as I hated receiving orders, this time I nodded and said I understood.

“And another thing.”

I looked at Dev expectantly, half knowing what was coming next.

“You are not to go messing with Gordon Harper on your own. Stay away from him. He’s dangerous and already knows who you are. Hopefully, he doesn’t know where you live, and thankfully, you use your maiden name.”

It’s true Gordon Harper didn’t know where I lived. I thought about the order slip I filled out at Seventh Veil and breathed a sigh of relief. I had put down Woobie’s address for shipping purposes, not my home address. As for knowing my married name, it was too late, but I opted not to tell Dev. Greg used Ocean Breeze as his address of record, so I was pretty sure our home in Seal Beach would be off Harper’s radar, at least for a bit. Besides, if we were careful, there would be no reason for him to know Lisa was with me at all.

“Dev, is there any way we can let leak, through the hospital maybe if anyone inquires, that Lisa is leaving town to visit friends?” He looked at me. The elevator door was beeping to close, but he continued to hold it open. “Just in case. If Harper does try to locate her, it might throw him off the scent.”

“I’ll do my best.”

As I exited the elevator into the main lobby of the hospital, I spied a vaguely familiar face. It took me a moment before I placed it as belonging to Paul Milholland, Jane Sharp’s delivery man. He was sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. When he looked up, I caught his eye and smiled. This was someone I might want to talk to when I had more time. Lil had said he’d been working with Jane a long time. If so, he might have some insight into her relationship with her husband, providing I could get him to talk about his boss.

I walked over to him and extended my hand. “Paul? Right? You work for Jane Sharp.”

He looked odd—not bewildered as if he couldn’t place me, but almost embarrassed.

I persisted. “I met you at Lillian Ramsey’s recently. You were delivering a table to her.”

He put down the paper and stood up, still appearing uncomfortable. “That’s right. I’m sorry. For a minute, I didn’t recognize you.” He took my hand and quickly shook it.

“You visiting someone?”

“Uh, no, I’m not.” He fidgeted. “Actually, I’m waiting for someone who is visiting a patient here.”

I wished I had time to chat right now with Paul while he was killing time waiting for his friend, but I had to head home. Then I remembered Lil saying he’d built her bookcases. Perhaps I could use that as a ruse to get his phone number.

“Paul, Lillian told me you do excellent woodwork on a freelance basis. If you’re interested, my husband and I might have some work for you.”

He looked surprised but collected himself quickly. “Yes, I can do most anything in the way of furniture repair or built-ins.”

“I have to run right now, but do you have a card?”

He dug into his shirt pocket and produced a couple of business cards. They were made of cheap white card stock and simply listed
Paul Milholland, General Handyman
, along with a phone number.

I took the offered cards. “Great. I’ll be in touch soon.”

When I got home,
there was piping-hot macaroni and cheese, thanks to the microwave, and a nice salad waiting for me. I had called Greg as soon as I left the hospital parking lot and let him know I was on my way. After a quick dinner, we hit the road for Pasadena. I was glad Greg was driving, because I was road weary.

Debra Kerr, Gabby’s mother, lived in a condominium in the upscale and lovely area just off of Orange Grove. Unlike Gordon Harper’s Marina Del Rey high rise overlooking the harbor, the Kerr condo was in a building only two stories high, surrounded by rolling green lawn and gracious magnolia trees. The address led us to a corner unit on the bottom floor.

After pushing the doorbell twice, a trim, attractive woman with chin-length, honey-colored hair opened the door. She was impeccably dressed and groomed and held a white toy poodle in her arms. After introductions, she let us in. The condo was large and nicely appointed.

“Please call me Debra,” she told us after I addressed her as Mrs. Kerr. “I detest being called Mrs.” She led us into the living room and indicated for us to sit. She offered refreshments, but we declined. In front of the large picture window was an impressive grand piano. She caught me admiring it.

“Do you play, Odelia?”

“Sadly, no.”

“That belonged to my father. Gabrielle played quite well. At least when she took the time to practice.” Debra’s lips were tight and her voice brittle as she spoke of her daughter.

“Speaking of Gabby,” I began.

“Gabrielle, please. Her father gave her that loathsome nickname. I’ve always hated it.”

“We understand that you and Mr. Kerr divorced after Gabrielle’s death.”

“Gabrielle’s father and I were already in the middle of a divorce when … when Gabrielle was murdered.”

“I’m sorry for both, Debra.”

“For Gabrielle, yes. We should all be sorry. For such a young, beautiful girl to be killed like that is pure evil.” She paused and put the dog down on the carpet. It immediately beelined for Greg and sniffed his legs with fascination.

“We have a dog and two cats at home,” he explained with a smile. Greg bent down and scratched the dog behind its curly haired ears. It wiggled with joy.

“Baby.” The command from Debra was firm but not sharp. Immediately, the animal returned to sit by its mistress’s feet.

I glanced at Greg and then returned my attention to Debra Kerr. “Debra, as my husband explained when he called, we are looking into the deaths of the women linked to the Blond Bomber for personal reasons. Is there anything you can tell us about the night Gabby—excuse me, Gabrielle—disappeared? Or anything about how she was acting? Was she spending a lot of time on the Internet? Things like that.”

Debra squared her shoulders and held her head erect. “I remember quite well the day Gabrielle disappeared. My husband and I had had a rather heated discussion. I wanted a divorce, and Harold, my husband, wanted to work things out.” She pursed her lips. “Gabrielle was in her room most of the time. When the argument escalated, she slammed her door shut. A while later, she came out and said she was going to Melissa’s house. Melissa was a friend from school. It was a Saturday afternoon. I reminded her to be back in time for dinner.” Debra paused and took a deep breath. “I never saw my daughter alive again.”

“I’ve seen photos of Gabrielle. In the photos, she looked much older than sixteen. Did she hang out with an older crowd or with kids her own age?”

“My daughter was very attractive, Odelia. Very fit and filled out for her age. But she was still only sixteen.”

“I understand, Debra.”

“When did Melissa see her last?” Greg asked.

“She never made it to Melissa’s home. In fact, my daughter had lied to me that day and, as it turned out, had most days. Melissa was at her grandmother’s that afternoon and hadn’t even spoken to Gabrielle.”

“Do you have any idea where she was going or who she was meeting?”

Debra shook her head slowly. “No.” She cleared her throat. “Like her father, my daughter was meeting people behind my back and keeping secrets. It cost him half of everything he had. Unfortunately, it cost Gabrielle her life.”

I couldn’t tell if Debra Kerr was a naturally frigid woman or if she became that way because of the tragic loss of both her daughter and her marriage. But one thing was sure: the woman was as cold as an iceberg and wound tighter than a bad perm.

Greg pursued his line of questioning. “How far is it from here to Melissa’s house?”

“We didn’t live here when Gabrielle was alive. I bought this condominium right after her death. We lived over near the border with San Marino then.” Debra picked up Baby and put her on her lap. She stroked the little animal with short, nervous strokes. “I couldn’t bear to live in that house after everything that had happened.”

My heart certainly understood her decision. “I’m sure there were too many memories.”

“Oh, I had already planned on moving before losing my daughter. I wasn’t about to live in
her
house.”

Huh? I looked at Greg. He looked just as puzzled. “
Her
who, Debra?”

Debra Kerr gave off a loud sigh. “This really has nothing to do with Gabrielle. I shouldn’t have brought it up. What else would you like to know?”

“If you don’t mind, we’d really like to know what happened with the house. Obviously, it was important to you and happened about the same time that Gabrielle disappeared.” Greg give me an encouraging nod to continue. “Did the house belong to your in-laws and you didn’t want to live there after the divorce? That would be understandable.”

Debra remained silent for a few minutes. After another deep sigh, she continued. “The house was ours. Mine and my husband’s. But I found out that he’d had an affair with our decorator. That’s why I wanted a divorce. I couldn’t bear to live in that house with or without him, with reminders of that woman in every nook and corner.”

Decorator? A decorator who sleeps with her clients? My brain was jotting down notes inside my skull.

Debra Kerr dropped her head and started to silently weep. It was the first real sign of emotion we’d seen. “First my husband. Then my daughter. I still don’t know what I have ever done to deserve this.”

“Where is your ex-husband now, Debra?” I asked the question in as soft a voice as I could.

She cleared her throat and looked up at us. Her tears had caused her eye makeup to blotch, but her cold veneer was back like lacy frost on a cold window.

“He’s somewhere in Chicago, I believe. His girlfriend dumped him. That’s why he was trying to patch up the marriage. Gabrielle was our only child. After she was killed, there was nothing to save and no reason to save it. I moved here, and he moved to Chicago.”

I got the feeling Debra wasn’t going to be very forthcoming about her daughter’s activities, and I didn’t have the heart to get tough. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a daughter murdered, especially in the manner Gabrielle was killed. I decided to give her one last gentle push, then leave it be if it didn’t yield results.

“I’m sorry we’ve upset you, Debra. But it’s important for us to find a link between all the women who were murdered by the Blond Bomber. It’s to help a friend.”

“Yes, Odelia, that’s why I agreed to help. I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through something like this if it could be avoided.”

She paused and put a hand to her mouth, appearing to be thinking it over. We waited, hoping she would decide to talk more about her daughter’s disappearance.

A moment later, Debra took her hand down. She straightened her shoulders and held her head erect. She was either bracing herself to tell us more or getting ready to toss us out. It was difficult to tell.

“In answer to your earlier question about my daughter’s mature appearance,” she began.

Relieved, I glanced at Greg. He was leaning slightly forward in his chair, ready to listen.

“Yes, she did appear to be a much older girl. She was so beautiful, and men just couldn’t help themselves. They stared at her everywhere. It was one of the reasons I had her in an all-girl school.” She swallowed before continuing. “I did know that she flirted with older boys online, but I didn’t think she’d ever meet any of them in person. Both my husband and I were very strict and direct with her about rules and boys and things like that. For all his faults, my husband was a good father. But when the police questioned Gabrielle’s friends, they found out she’d met several men on the Internet. Unbeknownst to us, of course. Unfortunately, none of her friends knew these men or their names. What information the police found on my daughter’s computer led them to dead ends or to people with alibis for the day she was murdered.”

“Do you think the Blond Bomber met her online, Debra?” The question came from Greg. “Or do you think she might have met up with him some other way?”

The mother of the dead girl shrugged slightly and pursed her lips. “It’s difficult to tell. We knew all her friends, so it seems likely that she met him on the Internet.” Debra looked down at the animal resting in her lap. “But with all the lies we discovered she’d been telling, who knows who she was meeting and how.”

We were at the door, saying our goodbyes and thanking her, when I just had to ask the million-dollar question. “Debra, who was the decorator who did your home?”

Without hesitating, she answered. “Jane Sharp did both the house
and
my husband.” The words came out as deadly as a serrated knife.

“And did you decorate this condo yourself? It’s quite lovely, very traditional but with well-blended touches of modern decor.”

“Thank you, but no, I didn’t. It was done by Mason Bell.”

“Mason Bell. Didn’t he work for Jane Sharp?”

“He apprenticed with Sharp Design for a number of years and was her assistant on our house. Soon after, he left her and started Mason Bell Interiors. He’s a rising star, and I understand he’s lured quite a few clients away from Jane Sharp.”

Debra Kerr gave us a smug smile. “And I’m doing my best to make sure he does.”