It was blatant flattery but it worked. “I’ll be there, Mom. But I’ll have to let you know about Derek.”
“Super dandy,” Mom said. “So, what are you up to, sweetie? How are your chakras?”
I turned right on Fillmore and waited for a break in traffic in order to make the left turn onto Oak. “Well, if you must know, my chakras and I are on our way to police headquarters.”
“What?” she cried in alarm. “Sweetie, that’s not funny.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m just going down to answer some questions.”
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m okay. Well, I think so, anyway. But see, first Abraham was murdered and now they’ve discovered Enrico Baldacchio’s body. So they want to talk to people.” I jammed my brakes at Geary as the light turned red. The action jarred my tender jaw and I groaned aloud.
Mom groaned, too. “Oh God, they’re arresting you.”
“Mom, no.”
“Oh God,” she said again. “I knew this would happen.”
“What do you mean?”
She moaned, then abruptly began to chant. “Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo-”
“Mom, stop. They won’t arrest me. I didn’t do anything. They don’t have any evidence.”
“Not yet,” she cried, and chanted even louder. “Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo.”
“Mom, they just want to talk to me because I knew both men.”
She was chanting so loudly now, I didn’t think she heard me. “Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo.”
For a Unitarian, the woman sure could belt out a Buddhist chant.
Dad had always talked about the time he and his buddy Norman ran out of money. Since they were hungry, they decided to chant for food. Twenty minutes later, Mom showed up with two bags of groceries. She believed in the power of the chant.
“Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho-”
“I’ll call you when I get home, Mom,” I shouted, unsure whether she could hear me anymore. “Please don’t worry.”
I disconnected the call, but I was pretty sure Mom would keep chanting until either world peace was declared or I broke out of jail.
I sat on a folding chair in a small interrogation room in the police homicide division, located inside the Hall of Justice Building. Inspectors Lee and Jaglow had started the interview but had been called away, leaving me alone for the last hour and forty minutes. I knew they were trying to unnerve me by making me wait, and it was working. I was ready to confess all my sins. Fortunately, murder was not one of them. So far. I was hedging my bets where Minka was concerned.
I tapped my fingers on the table and stared at the strangely attractive taupe walls for the three hundredth time. As usual when I had time on my hands, my brain circled around Abraham’s murder. But instead of the usual visions of dead bodies, blood and books circling my brain, I kept going back to my last meeting with Abraham the night he died. He’d been so warm and jovial, so positively reflective, so excited for the future.
“We won’t be strangers anymore,” he’d promised. And “I plan to live in the present and enjoy every minute.”
I swiped away angry tears and repeated my vow to find the person who killed Abraham’s chances to enjoy his life. That person had destroyed my opportunity to rebuild my friendship with my teacher and deprived Annie of the father she might’ve known.
The door swung open and Derek Stone walked in. “Did you confess all?”
“I haven’t had the chance.”
“Good.” He looked around. “Nice room.”
“It is pleasant, isn’t it?”
“Ready to go?”
“I haven’t talked to the police yet.”
“That won’t be necessary just now. They’ll call you later and arrange a time to stop by your place.”
“How do you know?”
“Inspector Jaglow told me.”
“He couldn’t tell me?”
“He’s busy.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “He had time to talk to you.”
“Of course.”
I sighed. “He could’ve said something.”
“He’s been occupied elsewhere. Somebody confessed to the murders.”
I gawked at him. “You’re kidding me. Who?”
He lifted his shoulders. “How the devil would I know? I listened to twelve hysterical messages from you, so I raced down here, only to be told that someone else had already confessed. Do you want to go or not?”
“Don’t get snippy with me,” I said, stalking toward the door. “I’ve had a bad day.”
“Whoa,” he said, gripping my shoulders to stop me. He stared at me for a long moment, then cautiously touched my cheek with his fingers. “What’d you run into, darling?”
“Very funny.” I felt tears welling up, so I went on the offensive. “Where have you been, anyway? And by the way, I do not leave hysterical messages.”
He wasn’t cowed. Instead, he tucked my arm through his and led me down the corridor to the main entrance of the Hall of Justice, just as the double glass doors swung open and my mother was led inside by two police officers. Her hands were held behind her back.
“No,” I cried, and rushed across the wide, linoleum-floored lobby. I hugged her and felt her trembling.
“Mother, what’re you doing here?” I tried to ignore the flash of déjà vu from that question, the exact same thing I’d asked her the night Abraham was murdered.
“Oh, sweetie, you’re safe,” Mom said, then focused in on my bruised jaw. “They beat you!” she cried, and burst into tears.
Derek walked with me the two long blocks to the parking structure and waited until I was in my car with the doors locked and the window opened.
I hadn’t said a word, too worried about my mother confessing to two murders in some cockeyed scheme to protect me. My need to find Abraham’s killer, now, today, had just accelerated into hyperspeed. I couldn’t let Mom spend the night in jail for something she didn’t do.
“You know my mother didn’t kill anyone,” I said.
“Well, yes.” He folded his arms across his chest. “She hardly strikes me as a cold-blooded killer.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. “She freaked out. I was on the phone with her, telling her I was going to the police station, and she lost it. I’m sure she just confessed to protect me. The problem is, I’m the one who needs to protect her.”
“Why must either of you protect the other?”
Oh, crap. I looked into his eyes. “I know you’re working with the police but I… I trust you.”
He nodded. “I appreciate that.”
“Okay, what I’m about to tell you is never to go any further. If I find out you told someone, I won’t rest until I’ve hunted you down and whacked you. I’ll beat you until you’re a bloody stump; then I’ll destroy your-”
“Got it,” he said, resting his hands on my window-sill. “Just get to the point.”
“Fine,” I said in a huff. “But you’ve been warned. My mother was at the Covington the night of Abraham’s death. She had a meeting with him but he never showed up. The police don’t know this. I ran into her on the stairs as I was going down to Abraham’s workroom in the basement. It shocked the hell out of me. She wouldn’t tell me why she was meeting with him. I’m afraid… I think they might’ve been having an affair.”
His lips twisted. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true; she was there.”
“Maybe she was, but I don’t believe she was having an affair. She’s not the type.”
“There’s a type?”
He shrugged. “A vibe, if you will.”
I looked askance. “Are you saying my mother couldn’t attract a man?”
He backed away from the car. “I refuse to have this discussion with a woman on the verge of hysteria.”
“You want to see hysteria? Where are you going? Come back. What do you mean, there’s a type?”