Dark Justice(22)

MORSE: All right. So you entered the flash drive as evidence. Did you continue to view it, looking for more clues as to its meaning?

WADE: I looked at it quite a number of times but saw nothing more than I’d seen the first time. At that point I was interrupted. I received a call that a deputy had made contact with Cheryl Stein, the daughter of Morton Leringer. Ever since we’d learned Leringer had been stabbed, we’d been trying to locate Mrs. Stein to gain entrance to his home. We needed to search the premises for possible evidence. I had to leave right away to meet Mrs. Stein at Leringer’s house. She had a key and the code for his alarm system.

MORSE: Where is Morton Leringer’s residence?

WADE: On Skyline near its intersection with Tunitas Creek Road. It’s a large home overlooking the ocean.

MORSE: You mentioned Mrs. Stein had the code to her father’s alarm system. When you entered the home, was the alarm on?

WADE: No. Which surprised Mrs. Stein, who informed me her father always turned it on upon leaving the house. She surmised he’d left in a hurry. Her theory fit with the unexpected scene we were about to discover inside that home. A scene that would make me suspect Mrs. Shire even more.





Chapter 8


Sunday, February 24, 2013

On the way home in the backseat of Deputy Gonzalez’s car, Mom talked a blue streak about her “new friend Nance.” I sat beside her, numb, managing once in awhile to interject an “uh-huh” and “that’s nice.” My mind could not dwell on her chatter. I couldn’t shake thoughts of the two FBI frauds in my living room, warning me they’d be back if I hadn’t told them everything. Which I hadn’t.

But how would they know that?

“Nance.” Mom half sang the name. “Rhymes with dance, you know. And fancy pants.”

“Yeah.” I patted her hand.

“She told me all about her childhood. Had six sisters growing up. Can you believe that? Seven girls in one family.”

“That is a lot.”

“Said they drove her father crazy.” Mom adjusted her hat. “Your father had a hard enough time just dealing with you and me.”

My father had always been distant. Not like Jeff, who’d doted on me and Emily. A pang shot through my chest. He should be here with me. If he were here, I wouldn’t be afraid.

“Did Nance ask you about Morton, Mom?” Interesting how the woman had used her first name with Mom instead of calling herself a deputy. Made her sound more friendly.

“Oh, yes.” Mom aimed a sly look at the back of Gonzalez’s head. “I told her he seemed like a very nice man. Then I asked her more about her family.”

I had to smile at the enigma of my mother’s brain. She’d lost so much short-term memory, yet the facts that did remain cemented themselves there. At least for awhile. And she still had the smarts to work against the wiles of law enforcement.

We reached our house. I stared at it, my gaze drifting over the door and across the front windows of the living room on the left, Mom’s bedroom on the right.

“Thank you,” I told Deputy Gonzalez as he opened the back door of his car for us.

“Yes, thank you, young man.” Mom gave him a sunny smile.

Young man? The deputy and I exchanged an amused look. Gonzalez had to be in his midforties.

I ushered Mom into the house and locked the door behind us. Stood there listening. Feeling the silence of the house.

Mom yawned. “Oh, my, what a day. I think I’ll go to bed.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Goodnight, Hannah.” She headed toward the hallway. Apprehension kicked up my spine.

“Wait, Mom.” I caught up to her. “Let me just . . . check your room first.” I slipped past and went into her bedroom. It looked the way she’d left it. Purple blanket draped over her armchair, the bed made. Family pictures on her dresser. I rounded the corner into her private bath. Empty. Pushed back the shower curtain. Nothing. I strode back to her closet door and threw it open. Just Mom’s clothes and shoes, boxed knickknacks on the shelf.

“What are you looking for?” Mom stood in her doorway, frowning.

“Nothing. Just . . . nothing.”

She shook her head. “I think you’re tired too. You need to go to bed.”

“Okay.” I hugged her, my heart tripping. “But first I need to give you your medicine.”

Ten milligrams of Aricept, taken every night at bedtime. Mom had started out with five milligrams, then graduated to ten after six weeks. At first she’d had some nausea, but that side effect seemed to have gone away. In a couple months, the dosage would likely increase to twenty-three milligrams. At this point I wasn’t sure I’d seen any improvement from the medication.