if it was a random
shooting, there’s got to be some sign—other similar deaths, a madman in the
area, something.”
“Their car’s disappearance adds to the mystery,” Paavo said.
“Eric owned a two-seater Mercedes sports car. It didn’t turn up until a year
later, half-in and half-out of the Russian River. Some kids were hiking in a
rugged part of Sonoma County and found it. Other than that, no one found
anything to explain what had happened to the couple.”
Angie pursed her lips. “Maybe the investigators simply
weren’t looking in the right places.”
“There’s not much more to be done. Maybe they didn’t perform
the most complete investigation, but it happened thirty years ago.” Just then
his cell phone rang, and he took the call. He wasn’t on it long. “More
forensics results are in. I’ve got to get going.”
She nodded. “Okay. I appreciate the information you found.”
He put money on the table for the bill and tip, then helped her with her coat. “Now that you know what
happened, you’re going to decide about the house on its own merits, right?”
She didn’t look happy, but she agreed. “I can do that.”
o0o
“How is it you have a key to this place?” Stan asked Angie
as they stood on the front porch of the 51 Clover Lane house. “Don’t you need
to be a realtor to have one?”
After learning about the Flemings and their death, plus
Paavo’s opinion that a murder near the house wasn’t a game changer as far as he
was concerned, she wanted to see the house one more time. Since Paavo had to
return to Homicide, she called Stan.
“My sister’s a realtor,” Angie said as she unlocked the
front door.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Stan pointed out.
“Some things you don’t want to know,” Angie said as she
slipped the original house key back into the lock box, then put the copy she
had made into her purse. It took her all of a minute to have the front door key
duplicated at a hardware store. If Angie told Cat what she had done, Cat would
have thrown a fit. But that was just for show. She was sure Cat left her with the
key so she could copy it. After all, Cat knew she wouldn’t steal anything from
the house, and also knew she would want to visit it about three dozen times
before making up her mind about the place. The last thing Cat wanted was to
drive back and forth from Tiburon to escort her on all those visits.
“Anyway, Cat talked to the owner, and she’s so happy that
someone is serious about possibly buying the house, she told Cat I should feel
free to come and go as often as I like. She’s even willing to give me a lease-option
if I wish. Here we go.” Angie swung open the door and let Stan enter.
“This place has style, doesn’t it?” he said as he wandered
through the large living and dining room, inspecting the woodwork and hardwood
floors. “An older home that has been beautifully remodeled to
take advantage of the setting.”
Angie put the candy dish she’d bought to replace the broken
one on the coffee table, then followed him as he
strolled into the kitchen. “You’ll have to gut this,” he said with a frown.
“Not immediately. If I change out the old appliances, the
rest can wait.”
He turned on a burner on the range. “At least it’s gas, not
electric. That helps.”
Angie led him to the bedrooms, starting with the two
upstairs, and ending with the master.
“Large. Nice view,” he said, then walked into the master bath. “It should be much more plush .”
Stan opened the sliding glass door in the master bedroom and
stepped out to a private deck overlooking the ocean. “As much as I love my
apartment, I miss being able to step outside and be surrounded by nature. This
is quite nice, and in the back yard you have room to put in a little garden,
maybe herbs, or even a few flowers. People always told me I have a green
thumb.”
“I didn’t know that about you,” Angie said.
“Yes. I used to grow a lot of houseplants.
Christine Zolendz, Frankie Sutton, Okaycreations