Messy divorce proceedings between Ms. Reynolds and her estranged husband have played out in a very public fashion after she was fired from her position as an evening newscaster by the local affiliate of her husband's network. For the past six months she has vented her side of the story as an ongoing saga in posts to a feminist-leaning Web blog called cutlooseblog.com.
In that same six-month period, Ms. Reynolds has been questioned as part of four separate homicide investigations. In two of those she has been exonerated and the cases are considered closed. The other two are still under active investigation, one by the LAPD and the other by the Riverside County Sheriff's Department.
In view of Ms. Reynolds's mounting legal difficulties, her blog has reportedly gone on hiatus.
Posted 7:55 A.M., LMB
No, it hasn't, Ali thought to herself. Cutloose is definitely back.
Ali scanned back through the post. There were enough journalistic weasel words" alleged," "supposed," "reportedly" along with the ever-so-useful anonymous sources routine, that the article probably wasn't actionable. So, no, Velma, I probably can't sue this guy. As for the signature? LMB. There was no additional information about him available, but Ali had a suspicion that he and the guy who had sent her the poison-pen note earlier, Lance-a-lot, were one and the same.
She looked back through her discarded mail. Sure enough, his address was still there. She started to send him a terse note about publishing unfounded speculation, then she changed her mind. Instead, Ali deleted her half-written e-mail and permanently deleted his e-mail address as well. If Lance-a-lot wanted attention, he sure as hell wasn't going to get it from her.
Ali was disheartened to know, however, that his cutesy pet name for her, Black Widow, was out. Even though the man's allegations were groundless, she understood that other media outlets would most likely pick up on Lance's lead and run with it.
Ali was about to turn off the computer to go shower and dress when another e-mail popped up. Ali recognized the addressAndrea Morales.
There were only two words in Andrea's message:
Jesus Sanchez.
So she was right, this Andrea was that Andreathe one from the kitchen tamale-making project. But what was this about someone firing Jesus? It made no sense. It was his TLC that kept the grounds of the Robert Lane mansion in pristine order. Why would anyone fire him? Ali sent off yet another immediate reply.
Dear Andrea,
Please believe me that I know nothing about this. Your uncle's work for us has always been more than satisfactory.
Below you'll find my relevant contact information.
Give me a call at your earliest convenience so we can discuss this and sort it out. Thank you.
REGARDS,
ALI REYNOLDS
Ali slammed shut her computer and started into the bathroom. "What's going on?" Edie asked.
"I'm going to shower and get dressed," Ali said. "Somebody fired the gardener yesterday, and Jesus's niece thinks it's my fault."
"I'm not surprised," Edie replied. "You're as bad as George Bush. It looks like everything is your fault."
Yes, Ali thought. Isn't that the truth.
A few minutes later, dressed but with a towel wrapped around her wet hair, Ali hurried down the hall to April's room and knocked on the door. A young woman Ali had never met before opened the door. The room was strewn with a collection of clothing and garment bags. April stood in front of a mirror wearing a full-length navy blue maternity smock complete with wide pleats, a white Peter Pan collar, and matching white cuffs.
"This is my friend Cindy Durbin," April explained. "Even though it's Sunday and she's supposed to be off work, she brought over some clothes for me to try on. What do you think?" April turned in front of the mirror. "Is this too retro?"
Ali nodded curtly in Cindy's direction. The outfit was retro, all right. It looked like it could have stepped right out of Lucille Ball's 1950s costume closet for the old I Love Lucy shows that were still in perpetual reruns on TV Land.
"It's fine," Ali said.
April turned from the mirror and studied Ali's face, which must have betrayed some of her roiling feelings. "What's wrong?" April asked.
"Someone fired Jesus Sanchez, the gardener, yesterday," Ali said. "Did you do it?"
"No," April responded. "Mom did. His salary and the cook's both came out of what Paul kept in petty cash. Other than my credit cards, that's the only real money I have right now. Mother said I couldn't afford to keep paying them because I'd run out of money that much sooner. She said she'd take care of getting rid of them for me so I wouldn't have to do it. Why, did we do something wrong?"
Yes, you did something wrong, Ali thought, but there didn't seem much point in discussing it.
"Never mind," she said. "I'll fix it. What's the cook's name?"
"Henrietta, I think," April said. "Henrietta Jackson."
"Where does she live? How long had she worked for you? Do you have a phone number for her?"
"No. Paul probably had that information, but I don't. It would be in his office."
And that's locked up behind a wall of crime scene tape, Ali thought. How convenient.
"That's all right," she said. "I'll find her."
"Why?" April asked. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to hire them back," Ali replied. "Or, if nothing else, I'll at least offer them severance pay."
"But who's going to pay it?" April objected. "I can't."
"Then I guess I will," Ali said.
With that, she stalked out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.
CHAPTER 11
With her temper flaring, Ali stormed back into the room she was sharing with her mother, where she was surprised to find Edie seated at the desk in front of Ali's open laptop. Dave Holman had arrived and taken over the easy chair. He was also finishing up the leavings from their breakfast cart.
"No breakfast buffet at Motel 6," he explained, polishing off the last remaining croissant. "Who lit a fire under you?"
"Monique Ragsdale fired both the cook and the gardener yesterday to keep April from spending some of her precious stash of cash. She sent them packing and blamed it all on me."
"So?" Dave said.
"We're going to find them and hire them back."
"But they can't go back to the house," Dave objected. "The place is a crime scene."
"The fact that it's a crime scene isn't their fault," Ali replied. "If nothing else, I can offer them severance pay. Did anyone call?"
Edie nodded and handed Ali her cell phone. "Andrea Morales," Edie said. "She wants you to call her back."
"The gardener's niece," Ali explained as she scrolled through her received calls and punched the appropriate number.
"Andrea?" Ali asked.
"Yes."
"This is all a terrible misunderstanding. Your uncle never should have been fired in the first place. Is it possible for you to put me in touch with him?"
"Why?" Andrea asked bluntly.
"Because I want to offer him severance pay at least and possibly his job back," Ali answered. "There's some confusion with my husband's estate at the moment. The right hand doesn't necessarily know what the left hand is doing."
"The woman who fired him knew perfectly well what she was doing," Andrea countered. "She told him he should get his stuff together and get the hell out. She said you were the boss now, and that you didn't want to pay him anymore."