Too Little, Too Late (26 page)

“Please sit down,” Liz told them.

“Thank you,” said Eve, going to sit on the sofa in the living room.

Kate followed suit, her eyes immediately drawn to the job ads circled in red. Liz hurriedly picked up the newspaper from the coffee table and threw it on the kitchen counter. An uncomfortable silence ensued.

“You both look different in person than you did on the news,” Liz remarked.

“That’s because we’re wearing these ridiculous getups,” Kate informed her, yanking off her wig.

“We didn’t want the paparazzi following us,” Eve explained, taking off her own disguise.

“I hope you don’t expect my pity.” Liz couldn’t mask the resentment in her voice. “You’re hounded by the media while my mother got a five second mention on the local news. It hardly seems fair, don’t you think?”

“Now wait just a minute—” Eve began.

“What? Do you think I’m exaggerating?” Liz challenged her.

Kate placed a restraining hand on Eve’s arm.

Eve shrugged it off. “No, you’re absolutely right,” she told Liz gruffly. “Unfortunately, we can’t control what the media does.”

“Nor can we tell you just how sorry we are about what happened to your mother.” Kate’s voice was gentle. “Or how personally responsible I feel for what happened.”

“Were you the one who donated the money?” Liz asked.

Kate nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “Yes, I did.”

Eve looked at her mother in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Because you had enough to deal with at the time,” she replied firmly, “and because I wanted to do it.”

“We’re
all
sorry about what happened to your mother,” Eve told the young woman, “but that still doesn’t give you the right to threaten my daughter.”

Liz’s head shot up. “I didn’t threaten her. I only told her I was going to find out what really happened the day my mother died.”

“What
really
happened was that your mother attacked one of my granddaughter’s friends,” Kate told her.

“And the attack was unprovoked,” Eve added.

“I don’t believe that.” Liz vehemently shook her head. “My mother was never aggressive unless she was provoked.”

Eve looked up in surprise. “Do you mean to tell us she had a history of violence?”

Liz looked away, her eyes filling with tears. “My mother was autistic. Most of the time, she was as sweet and docile as a small child. But then other times, if something set her off, she could fly into an uncontrollable rage.” She turned to both women, her chin jutting forward proudly. “I didn’t care. I loved her, no matter what she was like.”

Kate quickly looked at her daughter. There was no denying the compassion and pain in the young woman’s eyes, and yet something didn’t add up. Liz’s mother had been living on the streets. “My granddaughter told us that your mother kept muttering something about “tit’s milk”. Do you have any idea what she was talking about?”

“Your daughter asked me about that.” Liz frowned. “It makes no sense to me.”

“Apparently, those were her exact words,” Eve informed her. “And, from all accounts, she was pretty worked up about it, too.”

Liz shook her head in confusion. “I have no idea what she was talking about, but I am sure of one thing.”

“What’s that?” Kate asked.

“For every action, my mother had a reaction,” Liz told them. “And for my mother to have had such a violent reaction, something must have set her off.”

“Wait a minute!” Kate looked worried. “Maybe your mother was worked up about my mailbox because she was trying to put something inside it but it was locked.”

“Yes, but the police never found anything on Liz’s mother,” Eve reminded her.

“Maybe that’s because whatever they were looking for was already gone,” Liz surmised.

“Are you suggesting that my daughter took something that belonged to your mother?” Eve asked sharply.

Liz shook her head. “Not your daughter.”

“Who then?” asked Kate.

“For every action, my mother had a reaction—,”

“You already told us that,” Eve interjected impatiently.

“…and her reaction was to attack –”

“—Laurie!” Eve finished Liz’s sentence.

“So, let’s work on this theory for a minute,” Kate told them. “If what Liz is saying is true – that for every action, her mother had a reaction – and her mother’s reaction was to attack Laurie—”

“-- it meant Laurie must have taken something that belonged to my mother,” Liz concluded, “which is why my mother attacked Laurie and not the others.”

***

Liz listlessly pushed the uneaten food around on her plate. She wasn’t really hungry. Her meeting earlier today with Eve and Kate Stanton had left her more rattled than she cared to admit. For one thing, although she had fully expected to hate them on sight, she found that she couldn’t. Sure, Eve had been defensive about her daughter, but that was hardly surprising, given the circumstances. And there seemed to be something fundamentally decent about Kate Stanton. She didn’t know what to make of her feelings for the Stantons any more than she could figure out why her mother had been at Kate Stanton’s house in the first place. Hoping that a walk would help put things into perspective, she opened her front door and was surprised to see Otis standing there.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked guardedly. Liz had tried calling him to tell him about the surprise visit from the Stantons, but he never returned her call.

“Sorry I didn’t call back,” he told her. “I’ve been kind of busy.”

“That’s okay,” she replied coolly. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Yeah, right,” he mocked her, “like I can’t feel the temperature in the room suddenly take a nosedive.”

“What do you want, Ote?” she asked, not feeling up to a verbal sparring with him. “I was about to go out for a walk.”

“It can wait,” he told her firmly. Stepping into her apartment, he closed the door behind him. “I have to tell you about my day.”

She gave him a scornful look. “Not that you give a shit about mine.”

“If I didn’t give a shit about yours, I wouldn’t have been out there today on my day off, busting my ass doing detective work,” he retorted.

“Detective work?” she asked blankly. “What detective work?”

He looked shamefaced. “The kind that went down in flames.”

Without another word, she planted Otis on her sofa and went and got him a plate of freshly-made oatmeal cookies. “Okay, spill your guts.”

He picked up a cookie and brought it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Mmmm. Pure ambrosia.” He finished off the cookie in two giant bites. “I felt kind of guilty about what you’d said to me the other day about friendship so I decided to play gumshoe.”

She looked at him sharply. “What?”

“Well, remember that guy whose car was stolen and used in the hit and run?”

Liz nodded. “A guy called Paco something or other.”

“Ramierez,” confirmed Otis, helping himself to another cookie. “Anyway, I found him in Compton. He drives a bus for the city.”

“How did you manage that?” she asked in amazement.

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “Do you know how many listings for Ramierez there are in Compton?” Without waiting for her answer, he continued. “Anyway, I went to his house, and asked to speak with him.”

“Like he would want to talk to you,” she cut in.

“His wife thought I was a reporter,” he told her sheepishly.

“A reporter!”

“It wasn’t like I lied to her or anything,” he clarified quickly. “When I told her I was following up on the whereabouts of Paco’s car, she jumped to the conclusion that I was a reporter.”

“And you just never bothered setting her straight,” Liz concluded.

“Do you want to hear what happened or not?” he asked.

“Continue.”

“Anyway, she was the one who told me her husband drove a bus for the city and even gave me his route. I got on his bus after lunch, rode around for a while, and when his bus was almost empty, I asked him to meet me for a cup of coffee after his shift ended.”

Liz’s eyes were big as saucers. “And he agreed?”

Otis grinned at her. “His wife had already called ahead and warned him I was coming so yeah, he agreed to meet with me.”

“What did he say?” asked Liz impatiently, eager to hear the rest of it.

“I’m getting to that part,” he told her with exaggerated patience. “Do you have anything to wash down the cookie?”

Liz jumped up and got him a can of soda. “Now will you continue?”

“Well, this is the part where I crash and burn.” He took a healthy slug from the soda can. “I hate to admit it, but Paco seemed on the up and up. Over coffee, he gave me the condensed version of his life story about how he came from Mexico with his wife and three kids. His first job in L.A. was working under the table as a restaurant busboy while his wife worked as a maid for an industry couple over in Pacific Palisades. He later quit his bussing job to go work as their gardener. Then the Bauers, that’s the couple, split up and both he and his wife were out of a job. They cut their losses and moved to Compton where the city had an immigrant apprenticeship program which he got into once they became naturalized citizens. Eventually, Paco got a job driving a city bus. He seems like a nice enough guy who’s happy with his life.”

“Did you ask him how his car got stolen?” Liz asked.

“Yeah, I asked him,” Otis confirmed. “He told me it was stolen from the parking lot at
Ralph’s
while his wife was inside buying groceries. When she came out, it was gone. Actually, Paco’s pretty bent out of shape since he found out his car was used in a hit and run.”

“So, all that work basically led to a dead end,” said Liz dejectedly. She gave Otis a grateful hug. “Thank you for trying.”

“Fat good it did you,” he remarked balefully.

“Well, I have to admit that between your detective work and my meeting with the Stantons, I’ve got more questions than answers right now.”

“Did you say the Stantons?”

“I’ll tell you while we’re walking.”

“Everyone at work misses you, by the way.” Otis looked at Liz closely. “How much longer do you plan on not talking with everyone?”

“I talk to our friends,” she told him defensively. “You make it sound as though I’ve shut myself off from everyone.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” He reached into his back pocket and held out something to her. “It’s from all of us.”

Liz stared at the ticket in his hand. “It’s for
Jericho’s Last Stand
at
Sins nightclub
!”

Otis was beaming. “Yup. And we’re all taking you for your birthday. Luckily, Kim’s boyfriend’s a bartender there and he was able to hook us up with some tickets, otherwise we would’ve been shit out of luck. They’re the hottest tickets in town.”

Liz had completely forgotten about her birthday next week and was touched that her friends had remembered. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come.”

“How can I refuse an invite like that?” she asked softly.

“
All right!
” he exclaimed, picking her up and twirling her around before planting a kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” she asked breathlessly.

“I guess I was winging it.”

Smiling up at him, she kissed him right back.

“What was
that
for?” he asked, a dazed look on his face.

“I guess I was going with the flow!”

Karen was on edge. She was in the shallow end of the pool and about to get out when the patio door finally opened and Spic came out.

“Hey,” she called out.

“Hey yourself,” said Spic. “Nice view you got here.”

“I’m used to it.” Karen watched as Spic turned and glanced towards the house nervously. “You can relax. Mom’s at a meeting downtown and our housekeeper doesn’t give a shit about who comes and goes.”

“Who said I was uptight?” asked Spic, finally sitting down by the edge of the pool.

“It’s actually Laurie who my mother doesn’t like,” Karen confided. “She doesn’t have problems with any of my other friends.”

Her words seemed to make Spic a little more comfortable. Karen had purposefully picked a time when she knew her mother wouldn’t be at home. Had Eve known what Karen was up to, she would’ve wanted to be there but Karen needed to handle this on her own. Although Spic hadn’t been around the day the woman was killed, she figured Spic would know the deal with Laurie. The two of them had always been tight.

“There’s something you need to know about Laurie.” Spic trailed her good hand through the water.

The mention of Laurie’s name had obviously done the trick. “Oh yeah?” Karen pulled herself gracefully out of the pool, forcing herself to act as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Grabbing her towel, she tied it around her middle before going to sit beside her friend. “What about her?”

Spic looked away, nervously fidgeting with the ring on her wet hand. “She did something.”

Karen’s heart missed a beat. “What did she do?”

“Something pretty much fucked.” Spic lit a joint, inhaled deeply and offered it to Karen.

“That’s hardly a big surprise.” The last thing Karen wanted to do was mess up her head, yet knew that Spic would become suspicious if she held back. She took a quick tote, trying not to inhale. “So what’d she do?”

Spic took another deep drag, before exhaling slowly. “She stole something.”

Karen played along, trying to keep it light. “Is that all? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You don’t fucking get it.” Her friend shook her head in agitation, trying to fight the effects of the grass. “She stole the old lady’s necklace!”

“What old lady?” Spic made to get up but Karen grabbed her arm. “Come on, Spic. Which old lady?”

“The one who was killed,” Spic whispered. What was left of the joint was close to burning her newly sewn finger but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you shitting me?” By this time, Karen’s heart was hammering against her ribcage. She could hardly breathe. “She fucking stole something from the homeless woman?”

Her friend nodded. “A necklace made from some coins.”

“That stupid bitch!” Karen’s eyes blazed with fury. The time for being cool was over. “I even asked Laurie about it but she lied to my face! That stupid lying
bitch
!”