Stalking The Phoenix Part 9

It would have to be someone who knew how Al was likely to react to the situations, who knew in detail about her past, and who had the technical competence -- or the resources to hire someone -- to falsify those tapes.

The first person to be suspected, under any usual listing of suspects, would be Geoff. But, I couldn't, didn't want to, believe that could be true.

Still, Geoff was having financial problems with his Apple Acres development. I had no doubt that the suit a group of rabid environmentalists had filed against the development would be eventually dismissed. But, the costs Geoff was incurring were significant. He made no secret of that.

Al had money. Just how much, no one besides Al knew for certain. But, Jencomp was privately held. She was the sole stockholder. And the corporation had carved out a sizable position for itself in the computer hardware and software markets.

That pre-nuptial agreement which she had mentioned during the conversation in her office on the day that she had received the flowers could be important. What if the only way that Geoff could get her money was if she were either dead or declared mentally incompetent, with him being named as executor or conservator of her estate?

That was a truly nasty thought. But, I knew that it was one that I had to explore. Still, how do you investigate your best friend?

I picked up my phone and placed calls to Geoff and Al. It was time, past time, for a meeting.

*Chapter 15*

'Alicia'

I read the report. I handed it to Geoff, without saying a word. I knew that my face had to have been as white as if I had seen a ghost. In all practicality, that was close enough to the truth, if the report were true. But, it couldn't be, could it? How could Raoul Hernandez be dead? For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I had totally lost my grasp on reality. I had heard his voice over the telephone. Dead men don't make phone calls.

Or at least, they don't without the intervention of the living. The calls could have been taken from the tapes in the closet. I knew that was a possibility, maybe even a probability. Still, if it wasn't Hernandez, who was it who was doing this to me?

Who could hate me that much?

Ever since the day that the flowers had arrived, and Phil had raised the issue, I had wondered about that. Somehow, it was much easier to simply believe that it was Hernandez. I knew that he hated me. It was far easier to attribute this to him.

Was I simply acting like electricity and taking the path of least resistance?

If Hernandez was dead, and that wasn't a possibility of which I was totally convinced, then someone else out there wanted to hurt me. That possibility frightened me. Doubly so, because I had no idea about who it could have been. I had to wonder if I was insensitive enough to have made a major enemy without having realized it.

"So, where does this leave me?" I asked.

"The calls were clearly being made, Al. But, we have to disregard the possibility that it is Hernandez making them."

"Who else could it be? No one else wants to hurt 'Licia."

Phil shook his head. "I don't know anyone completely without enemies. Who would have known about the tapes of Hernandez's calls?" I frowned. "Not many people. Me, Geoff, Sarah, a couple of police officers in L.A., and you."

"Sarah?" Phil asked.

"Sarah Quinn."

"I see," Phil replied. "Who would have access to the tapes?"

"Myself, the cleaning woman -- Ada McAllister -- Geoff ... I suppose that anyone who had been in my house could have had access to the tapes. I kept them on the top shelf in a closet in a small box behind everything else."

"Was Sarah ever in your house?"

"I haven't seen Sarah in twelve years. I haven't talked with her, or had any direct contact with her in that time."

Geoff cleared his throat. "Are we certain that the Hernandez fellow is actually dead?"

At the disbelieving look which Phil directed at him, Geoff added, "Yes, Phil. I read the report. But, I also know that it is very easy to falsify a death record in many parts of Central and South America. The insurance companies face that sort of thing all the time. I have a friend from law school who now works for a major insurance company as one of their legal counsels. He tells me that the next legitimate claim that they have from anywhere in South America will be the first legitimate claim that he sees. That's why the question is in the standard application now about whether the applicant for a policy intends to travel overseas in the foreseeable future. The report did say that the body was burned beyond recognition. Dental records were inconclusive. It is possible that Hernandez faked his own death, planning something like this. It would be relatively easy to bribe witnesses to swear to what they 'saw'. Stranger things have happened."

"I don't know that we can rule anything out at this point," Phil replied. "No matter how ridiculous the theory may appear."

"Well," Geoff told him, "'Licia has had far too much of this strain. She ought to get away for a while. I'm taking her to Chicago for the weekend to meet my brother. As strange as it may seem, the two of them have never actually met. It's well past time that my brother meets the woman who is going to be the mother of his nieces and nephews."

I felt my face grow warm.

Phil smiled, but there was something not quite right in his eyes. "That may be a good idea. Give my regards to 'Monsignor' William."

Geoff smiled. "We'll do that."

The cab pulled up in front of an old brick church. Geoff paid the cabbie. While picking up my suitcase and purse, I heard the driver say, "I'd get wherever you are going quick. This ain't a good neighborhood, 'specially this time of night."

Geoff took my arm and walked toward the white two-story house that stood next to the Church. Climbing the steps to the house, I saw the door open. That has to be Will, I thought as I looked at the man in the doorway. I couldn't believe how much the two brothers resembled each other. The only difference readily discernible was that Will was obviously older than Geoff. Will's blond hair had turned that rich shade of platinum that many blondes have in lieu of gray.

Geoff walked up to the man who stood in the doorway. Hugging him, Geoff said, "Willie, it's good to see you."

"Yeah, kiddo. How's my brother baby?" Will asked. "Come in. Come in. No need to stand there all night. Have you had dinner?" I walked into the house just in front of Geoff. Will closed and locked the door behind us. I looked at Geoff, waiting for an introduction.

"Since your brother, obviously isn't going to introduce me," I said in a tone that was intended to be a reprimand. Setting down my suitcase, I continued, "I'm Alicia Jenkins. 'Monsignor', I'm so glad to finally meet you in person." I extended my hand. Will took my hand and shook it.

"Is a handshake all I get from my future sister-in-law?"

I smiled. I walked over to him and gave him a hug and a peck on the check. "Is that better, 'Monsignor'?"

Will smiled. "Yeah. That's a lot better. And, except in ecclesiastical matters, you can drop the Father, the 'Monsignor'. Among family, I'm Will. Some people call me Willie, others William. I prefer Will." A mischievous look came into his eye, "Will matches my personality."

"Yeah, I can see that: strong willed."

Will looked over at Geoff. "You know, I like this woman of yours. She gets my jokes without my having to explain them to her. A definite improvement over the ladies, and I use that term loosely, whom you used to hang out with."

Geoff looked at me and took my hand. Smiling, he replied, "Yeah, I think that I'll keep her around for a long time."

I chose to ignore the conversation. The grandfather's clock in the hallway chimed at the half-hour. I looked over to see that it was now 7:30. Suddenly, I felt very tired. I yawned.

Father Will, seeing that I looked weary, walked over and picked up my bag. "Come on, you could use a few minutes to freshen up. I'll show you to your room. You come, too, Geoff. I've put Alicia and you in the spare rooms right next to me." He led them up the stairs and down a short hallway. "Alicia, my dear, you'll bunk here," he said opening the door. "I'm afraid it isn't much in the way of a room."

I went in, switched on the light, and looked around. I said, "It's just fine. Thank you. I'll take the bag. I'll try to be down in fifteen or twenty minutes." I took my case and closed the door. I placed the luggage on the floor. The room was very monastic and utilitarian. It was about ten by fourteen. A print of the icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help hung on the faded and water-stained papered wall. The furniture in the room consisted of a single bed sans headboard, a small table in lieu of a desk, a desk chair, and a 'Prie Dieu.' A built-in bookcase in the corner held a collection of obviously well-read religious and inspirational books. I set the alarm on my watch for ten minutes and lay down on the bed.

*Chapter 16*

'Will'

After leaving Alicia, I had showed Geoff his room. It was very similar to the one that Alicia was in, except that the religious picture was a print of the tilma of Our Lady of Guadelupe. I accompanied Geoff into his room and closed the door behind us.

"Well, little brother, it's not that I'm not happy to see you, but to what do I owe the honor?"

Geoff told me the story in brief.

I sat there in silence for a minute. "Well, brother baby, I'm glad to see you, even given the circ.u.mstances. Do you think that Alicia would like to go out on the town, or would she prefer to sit around here and talk? We have to make this evening very special for her to make up for the bad weeks that she has had."

"I asked her that question on the plane. She said that she'd rather see the two of us have some time to talk and enjoy each other's company than to go out and party."

"Is there anything that I can do to make this all easier?"

"Not that I can think of," Geoff said. "Aside from distracting her a little. She needs all the distraction that she can get just now. Bad luck seems to be following her around. Somewhere between Fieldsburg and here, she lost her overnight case."

"That's hardly in the same cla.s.s of thing that she's been dealing with."

"No, it isn't. But, she was somewhat upset about losing it, since it was an expensive piece of luggage which she had bought for our honeymoon."

"I can understand that," I said.

"Seriously, now that you've seen 'Licia, isn't she everything that I told you she was?" Geoff changed the subject.

I nodded. "She is very pretty. Seems to be quite nice. Jack Dougla.s.s thinks very highly of her. That's recommendation enough for me."

Geoff looked at his watch. "'Licia is usually fairly prompt. I'll bet that she is waiting for us right now. Come on, I want you to get to know her." Geoff opened the door to his room and went out into the hall. I followed. When we got to the steps, we heard Alicia's door open.

"Alicia, you're just in time."

"For what?"

"Dinner," I said. "I hope you don't mind, but Friday night dinner is usually pretty light. A hearty soup and homemade bread, usually."

"Sounds wonderful to me. I'm not a particularly fussy eater."

Reaching the first floor, Geoff put his arm around Alicia's shoulders. I looked at her as to ask permission. Alicia nodded. The three of us went off toward the dining room entwined in each other's arms like three lifelong buddies.

Alicia giggled then said, "A rose between two thorns."

I did my best Irish accent, "So that's what you'd be thinking of me, eh?" All three of us began to laugh.

The laughter subsided as we walked into the dining room. Two young men, both dressed in black suits with clerical collars, were already gathered there. Alicia looked at the men. The first man was about five-foot, seven inches tall, weighed about one-hundred and forty pounds, had deep brown hair and a full beard. The other fellow was about the same height, but weighed about thirty pounds more and was very blonde and clean shaven.

The younger men stood as I walked into the room.

"Good evening, 'Monsignor'," the younger men said almost in unison. Their curiosity was evident.

"Good evening, Father. Good Evening, Brother. You know my brother Geoff. I'd like to introduce his fiancee, Alicia Jenkins. Alicia, this is Father Cecil Peters and Brother Louis Blaska. Alicia and Geoff came up to spend the weekend with me."

The younger priest smiled as he stroked his beard. "I'm pleased to meet you, Alicia. It's good to have company in the rectory."

Brother Louis added, "Especially company as charming as Miss Jenkins."

Alicia began to blush. "Thank you. I hope to be worthy of such a high compliment."

I looked at my watch. "The others should be down here. Do you know where Sisters Dorothea and Bonaventure are?"

"Sister Bonaventure is in the kitchen. But, I haven't seen Sister Dorothea since just before noon," Brother Louis replied as though slightly irritated.

I wondered what Dorothea had done now. Brother Louis was a normally even-tempered man. He was hard to rile, but something had gotten under his skin. I would have bet a year's stipend that the something was someone in the person of Sister Dorothea. At times, that woman had all the tact of a Marine Drill Sergeant, without the accompanying charm.

"Did I hear something talking about me?" a deceptively gentle voice said from the back of the room. Alicia turned to look. There stood Sister Dorothea. She was a small, young, brunette, about five-feet in height and weighing all of ninety pounds, soaking wet. The only semblance of religious garb that Dorothea usually adopted was to wear the emblem of her liberal order pinned to a t-s.h.i.+rt. Why she had decided tonight to appear in the floor-length black serge habit and veil her order had laid aside, but never officially abandoned, was anyone's guess. I wasn't fooled by the concession to tradition. The determination and s.p.u.n.k that people always saw in the Sister's eyes announced that this was one woman who was to be reckoned with. I only wondered which of Sister's schemes to drag the predominantly Hispanic congregation kicking and screaming into the twentieth century had upset Brother Louis and what exactly I was going to have to do to smooth over the situation.

Alicia smiled at the Sister. I made the introductions. Just as I had finished, a tall, older woman in a street length brown habit and black veil, Sister Bonaventure, entered the room carrying a soup tureen.

The inhabitants of the rectory went to the table. I placed Alicia and Geoff next to me, Alicia on the right and Geoff to my left. Alicia was sitting between Father Peters and myself. Geoff sat between Sister Bonaventure and myself. After grace, Sister Bonaventure struck up conversation with Geoff.

I noticed the surprised look on Alicia's face. Sister Dorothea, who was sitting across the table, asked Alicia, "Is anything wrong with your soup, Miss Jenkins?"

"No, But, thank you for asking," Alicia replied.

"It's just that you looked so surprised."

"I was just a little startled that there would be conversation at dinner," Alicia said.

Father Cecil asked, "Why should that surprise you? Don't most people normally talk over dinner?"

"I suppose. But, in the convent we always kept silence at meals. I a.s.sumed that it was common practice, even among secular religious. I don't know why I should have done so."

The silence in the room was deafening. I broke the silence, "Alicia left her order, with permission, before final profession, at the expiration of her final set of annual vows."

"So, Alicia, what have you done with your life since leaving your order?" Sister Dorothea asked.

"Well, I taught high school for a year. Then, I completed my doctorate, and have been both teaching at the collegiate level and running my own business since then."

Sister Bonaventure spoke up. "What's your subject?"

"Computer Graphics and robotics, primarily. I also have a fascination for artificial intelligence."

Brother Louis' eyes lit up. "I teach computers and Math at the parish High School. Tell me more about your business."