Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights (21 page)

“I don’t understand.”

“Leah…” I paused for a deep breath. The information I was about to give her was a lot more volatile than the tidbit about the Barbie Dream House. “I think Bob was having more than one affair.”

Leah stared at me for a full minute before vehemently shaking her head. “No. That simply isn’t possible.”

“Oh, sweetie—” I put a comforting hand on her knee “—not only is it possible, it’s probable. He was seen at Hotel Gatsby with a woman who was neither you nor Bianca.”

“No.” Leah stood up with a jerk and stepped away from me. “Don’t you think I would have known if Bob was having multiple affairs? Do you think I’m completely clueless?”

“When it comes to your husband? Absolutely.”

Leah glared at me and crossed her arms over her chest. “All right then, Miss Know-It-All, who was this woman that Bob was supposedly sleeping with?”

I looked down at my hands. It seemed that I should start with the least offensive betrayal and work my way up. “Anatoly’s going to the Gatsby with a photograph tomorrow to confirm our suspicions, but we think the woman described by the people at the front desk is Taylor Blake.”

Leah laughed. Not a bitter laugh, but a full out “I’m watching
A Fish Called Wanda
” kind of laugh. “Taylor Blake? Are you joking? Have you even met the woman?”

I nodded. “I met her today. She’s very handsome.”

“Yes.” Leah nodded, still smiling. “Handsome is a good word for her. She lacks the natural femininity of oh, I don’t know…
Dennis Rodman,
but she is very
handsome
.”

“Come on, Leah, she’s a good-looking woman. I’m sure she’s had her fair share of boyfriends.”

“She probably has, but not Bob. Bob would rather be strung up by his toes than partner up with a woman like that.”

“We’ll see,” I said. I studied Mr. Katz who was now sharpening his claws on my bookcase. “There’s another woman, too.”

“Oh, really? And who would that be, Dianne Feinstein?”

“Erika Wong.”

Leah’s smile disappeared. Her right hand made a clutching motion over her heart. “No,” she whispered, “she wouldn’t…Bob wouldn’t…”

“It’s obvious that she was very close to Bob,” I pointed out. “God knows she’s distraught over his death.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. She worked for him, and they were close, but that doesn’t mean…”

“She’s pretty bitter about his affair with Bianca, and it’s clear that she has some beef with Taylor—”

“But her problems with Bianca have to do with her loyalty to me. Erika and I have become friends, for God’s sake!”

I forced myself to meet her eyes. “When Anatoly and I were talking to her the other day, Erika dropped a wine cork that she’s been carrying around in her purse.”

“Yes, she’s been carrying that around for a while,” Leah explained. “She said that it was from a magical evening with a special someone.” She squeezed her hands together. “She was talking about someone else, though, I’m sure of it.”

“The vineyard was Chateau d’Yquem.”

Leah blinked and looked away. “It’s a big coincidence, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Have you checked out Erika’s jewelry lately?”

She didn’t say anything.

“She’s got a tennis bracelet, and I’m pretty sure it’s from Tiffany.”

Leah’s mouth set in a thin straight line. “That backstabbing bitch.”

I nodded. “You got that right. And here’s the kicker—she doesn’t have an alibi for the night Bob died.”

Leah’s entire being looked like it was ready to explode into an impressive display of fireworks. She walked past me, grabbed her purse and headed straight out the door.

“Wait!” I shouted after her. “You can’t go see her!” I struggled to get my boots on again, but when I wasn’t able to do so fast enough I simply held them with my left hand and raced down the stairs after her.

“Leah!” I screamed as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. She was almost a block away. How the hell was she able to make that kind of time in those heels?

She stopped next to her car and pulled her keys out of her bag.

“Oh, shit,” I moaned. I sprinted forward and caught up with her as she was turning over the engine. I threw open the passenger side door and tumbled in just before the car screeched onto the empty street.

“Leah, you need to rethink this.”

“You should have heard Erika when I told her about Bianca!” Leah took a sharp turn in the direction of California Street.

“Uh-huh, tell you what, why don’t we find a Starbucks and you can tell me all about it over a couple of Frappuccinos.”

“At first she started making excuses for Bob, talking about how the heart works in mysterious ways and I should try to be more understanding—” Leah made another sharp turn. She was definitely heading toward the freeway.

“Okay, forget the Frappuccinos. How ’bout we go somewhere and get those cocktails we were talking about? You want a cocktail, Leah?”

“Then when I told her that the woman he was leaving me for was twenty-one, she just freaked out. Erika asked me over and over again if I was sure I had heard him correctly.”

“Hey, I know! We can buy drugs! A little weed and this whole thing will be funny.”

“Are you hearing me?” Leah demanded. “Before I recited Bob’s description of Bianca, Erika thought he was leaving me for her! After everything I’ve done for her, that little witch tried to break up my family!”

I seriously doubted that Leah had done a lot for Erika, but that was hardly the issue at the moment. What was important was that we were clearly headed straight for Erika’s Daly City home.

“Leah,” I said carefully, as she merged the car into the lane that would take us to 280, “Anatoly specifically told me that we shouldn’t make our theories known to Erika or Taylor. Right now, we have the upper hand because they don’t know that we know about the affairs…but if you confront them—”

“I have no intention of confronting Taylor Blake. I hardly know the woman. In fact, the only thing I
do
know about her is that she wasn’t sleeping with my husband. But Erika, ooh, she’s going to be sorry she messed with me.”

“Is she, Leah? What exactly are you going to do? Kill her? The threat of a life in prison isn’t enough for you? You want to try for the death penalty now?”

“I’m not going to kill her.” Leah pulled the car onto the freeway. “But I am going to give that little hooker what-for.”

“Give her what-for? You’re going to risk everything just so you can give her what-for?”

“I’ve made up my mind, Sophie.”

“And what if she’s the killer?” I flinched as Leah cut in front of a Lexus SUV, barely missing its bumper. “As far as we know Erika could still have Bob’s gun. She could shoot us, Leah!”

“Don’t be silly—Erika’s not the type.”

“Are you serious? Ten minutes ago you didn’t think she was the type to sleep with your husband!”

Leah narrowed her eyes. “If she did kill him—if she actually had the nerve to both sleep with Bob and then shoot him in
my
house…I swear to God I—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Well, you could always give her what-for. I hear that makes a real impact on the cold-blooded killer.”

Leah fell into an icy silence and put a little more pressure on the gas pedal. Maybe she’d attract the attention of the California Highway Patrol. Then she’d have to stop. On the other hand, that might not be so great, either. The last thing Leah needed was for the police to see her at her most insane.

We continued our journey until we finally reached the Daly City Freeway exit, which I assumed was nearest Erika’s home. Leah pulled onto a residential street with cookie-cutter houses in pastel shades. The neighborhood was completely quiet, the glow coming from behind a few curtained windows being the only sign of conscious life.

I took a deep breath and tried one more time to stop my sister. “Leah, if you could just take a moment to calm down and think about this, you’d see that we would be in a much better position to make Erika pay for what she’s done if we bide our time a little. I mean, how much fun would it be to see her taken away in handcuffs? It would probably make the news, and you could tape it and re-watch it whenever you needed a lift.” I gave her a half smile.

Leah stopped in front of a pale pink house. “Sophie, I am a woman scorned. You don’t ask a woman scorned to bide her time.”

“Are you kidding? Have those years of watching
All My Children
taught you nothing? The women scorned
always
bide their time.”

Leah got out of the car and stormed up to the front door of the house. I ran up to her side and grabbed her arm.

“Listen, you’ve done some stupid things in your life but this could easily take the cake. I mean, this actually tops the time you agreed to go out with Seymour Dickman….”

Leah yanked her arm away and started to knock on the door. But when her fist made impact with the wood, the door creaked open. For a second I forgot that I should be talking Leah out of destroying her life. Why wasn’t Erika’s door closed and locked? It looked like a decent neighborhood, but still…

Leah was much less fazed. She pushed the door open and stepped into the entryway. “Erika,” she called, as I quickly closed the door behind us. “Erika, I know you’re here. There are a few things that I’d like to discuss with you.”

There was no answer. I glanced around. The only light was coming from the street lamp outside. “I think it might be a good idea if we left now,” I whispered. “You can give her what-for tomorrow.”

“You know this can’t wait.” Leah marched ahead of me. “Erika? Where are you?”

She stepped into the living room with me right on her heels. There was a strange smell that I couldn’t immediately identify, but that for some odd reason reminded me of the days I hung out with Leah during the early part of her pregnancy.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Leah muttered. “Aren’t there any lights around here?” She reached over and switched on a large lamp resting on one of the end tables.

The place was in shambles. There was a roll-top desk in the corner with every drawer open and papers littered all around. Pictures had been taken off the wall and the cushions of the love seat and couch had been removed. There was an empty bottle of Baileys lying horizontally on the coffee table, along with two glasses that looked recently used. Someone had thrown up on the couch (which explained the memories of Leah’s first trimester) and on the floor between the couch and coffee table lay Erika. She was on her stomach, and her face was hidden by her hair, which also had traces of vomit clinging to it. But there was something about the awkward way she was positioned that set her apart from the average passed-out drunk. She was so still. I couldn’t see her back rise and fall with breathing. I stepped in front of Leah and bent over Erika to examine her more carefully.

“Erika?” I whispered.

Behind me I could hear Leah clucking her tongue.

“My God, she’s really fallen apart, hasn’t she,” she said flatly. “Do you think this little breakdown is due to the fact that she’s lost the love of her life, otherwise referred to as
my husband?
”

From the corner of my eye I could see Leah wandering around the room. “Look at this place. She must have thrown quite the party here and now she’s passed out like a common drunk. I guarantee you Bob never saw this side of her.”

I was tempted to turn around and slap some sense into Leah. I don’t know what kind of parties Leah had been going to, but in my circles people didn’t usually get trashed and then ransack their host’s file cabinet.

“Oh, damn it, I just broke a nail.”

I didn’t acknowledge Leah’s manicure problem. Instead, I reached my hand out and pushed aside a few of Erika’s raven locks so I could see her better. Her eyes were open.

I shot up and stumbled back, crashing into Leah.

“Ow! You just stepped on my foot!”

“Leah, she’s dead.”

Leah looked at me like I was insane. “Of course she’s not dead. She just drank herself into unconsciousness.” She stepped around me and glared at the body. “Erika, wake up! I’m not leaving until I speak my mind!”

The silence that followed her words was unbearable. Leah hesitated and walked around to the other side of the body. “Oh, my God.” Leah’s mouth dropped open and she looked up at me with a new, terrifying comprehension. “But she…but…I don’t…”

The horror that had paralyzed me disappeared and was replaced by a powerful survival instinct. I spotted a box of Kleenex next to the lamp and gingerly pulled out several sheets. I handed half of them to Leah. “I’m going to get your fingerprints off the lamp—you go work on the door.”

“But—”

“Now, Leah!”

Leah numbly took the Kleenex, but didn’t move. I resisted the urge to shake her, and carefully wiped off the part of the lamp she had touched. I then turned it off and pushed her toward the front door. I wiped the doorknob and the entire area around where she had first tried to knock. Then I peered outside. No one was around to see us.

Unless, of course, the murderer was watching.

The thought spurred me to hurry. I half pulled, half pushed Leah to the car and shoved her into the passenger seat before jumping behind the wheel. It took all of my self-control to obey the speed limit as we drove away from the scene of yet another crime.

CHAPTER 10

“The problem with telling someone to drop dead is that there’s always the chance they might comply.”

—
Words To Die By

L
eah was silent as we rode along on the freeway. Then again, I didn’t exactly try to engage her in conversation. The image of Erika was still vivid enough to make my heart beat an unnatural rhythm. Someone had been there moments before we had arrived, and killed her. Or worse yet, they had still been in the house when we found her.

But fear was only one of the emotions I was experiencing. I was also seriously pissed off at my sister. All we had had to do was stay home and wait for Anatoly to give us instructions. Had that been so much to ask? Was it really necessary to confront her late husband’s mistress facing an impending murder charge?