Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights (3 page)

I should have been flattered by the note of concern in his voice, but its implication frightened me. I shook my head violently in an attempt to shake off the dark thoughts that were creeping in. “She’s innocent, and yes, I want you to investigate.”

We stared at each other for a beat. Finally, in what seemed to be slow motion, our hands simultaneously reached for our respective door handles and we got out and approached the crime scene.

CHAPTER 2

“Life is like a never ending play,” he said between drags on his cigarette. “We all have roles to perform and there’s always some critic insisting we’ve been miscast.”

—
Words To Die By

W
e hadn’t gotten very far before we were headed off by a particularly butch policewoman who used her hand as a barrier. “Sorry, no one’s allowed beyond this point.”

“My sister’s in there,” I argued. “This is her house.”

The woman was completely unmoved. “You’ll see her later.”

“Well, if it isn’t Sophie Katz and her victim—er—friend, Anatoly Darinsky.”

I looked up to see the tall, lean form of Detective Lorenzo. His eyes narrowed as they met mine. He had let his black curls grow out since the last time I had seen him, which made him look younger, if not nicer. I felt the muscles in my neck tighten.

“You’re the detective handling this case?” I asked.

“One of them.”

“I think there’s a conflict of interest here. You hate me and you’ve been sent to investigate my brother-in-law’s murder. It doesn’t seem reasonable to expect you to remain objective.”

Anatoly put his hand on my shoulder in what must have appeared to others to be a supportive gesture. Only I knew that there would be permanent indentation marks where his fingers were digging into my flesh.

“What exactly do you want me to be objective about?” Lorenzo asked. “And how do you know your brother-in-law was murdered?”

Anatoly loosened his grip, but not enough to eliminate all the discomfort. I’m not sure what he thought he was accomplishing. Obviously what I needed was to be smacked upside the head.

I took a deep breath and soldiered forward. “Leah called me a little while ago, distraught. She told me she had…found him.”

“Do you know if this was before or after she called us?”

“I…don’t know. I didn’t think to ask. She loved him so much…. I’m really very worried about her—can I see her?”

“Just a few more questions.” Lorenzo pulled out a pocket notebook and pen. “Did she tell you how he was killed?”

“She wasn’t sure. She said there was a lot of blood and it seemed to be coming from his head.”

“She called and told you there was blood coming out of her husband’s head,” he said flatly.

“Mmm, I think that was it. It wasn’t all that clear…you know, with all the crying and all.”

“And the first thing you did was go out and hire a private detective? Any particular reason for that?”

Anatoly slid his hand down to my waist. “I was with Sophie when Leah called. We’ve become…close. I wanted to be here for her and her family.”

He pulled me tight against his side and I could feel his body heat radiating through his jacket. I reached my arm out to return his squeeze, somehow managing to “accidentally” brush it against his butt in the process.

“Right.” Lorenzo made another note.

I’m not very good at reading upside down but I think I could make out the word
dysfunctional
.

“When was the last time you saw Leah?”

“This afternoon,” I said. “She was on her way to see a friend…not sure who. Anyway, she stopped by to say hi.”

Lorenzo made another little note. “Did she say anything else?”

“It was just a basic conversation between sisters. She asked how I was, inquired about my next book, and then told me to stop talking to my cat and find a human companion to date and converse with.”

The detective glanced up at Anatoly. “She doesn’t consider Mr. Darinsky here to be human?”

“Well, Anatoly has a lot of apelike qualities, so it can be confusing.”

Anatoly removed his arm.

“How was her marriage?” Lorenzo said.

“Spectacular.”

“Spectacular?”

“Mmm-hmm. He brought home a paycheck and left her alone,” I explained. “A woman couldn’t ask for more.”

Anatoly made a noise of disapproval.

“That isn’t very liberated of you,” Lorenzo noted.

“Don’t get me wrong, she loved the time they did spend together, but Leah had a life of her own. She adored Bob because he gave her the space she needed to maintain her individuality while still supporting her. And he always made time to take her out on the occasional date or family outing with their son. I mean really, how much more liberated can you get?” It was also complete bullshit. I pretended to search my purse for a tissue so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with either of my current male companions. Hopefully the picture I had painted of Leah would make her seem like the kind of gal who wouldn’t get all homicidal if she discovered her husband was messing around with some collegeaged slut.

“Sophie!”

I looked up just in time to see Leah hurl herself in my direction. She flung her arms over my shoulders and tucked her tear-stained face into the crook of my neck. “Oh, how can this be happening to me?”

Lorenzo looked more irritated than sympathetic, but he did have the courtesy to put the notebook away. “It’s going to take a while for us to finish searching the house and dusting it for prints. Why don’t you come down to the station with us, Mrs. Miller? We can finish up the questions, and if your sister here would like to follow us she can give you a ride when we’re done.”

“Do you expect to be finished with the house by the time Leah’s through with questioning?” Anatoly asked.

“Not likely. I’m sure you understand the necessity of being thorough,” Lorenzo said, directing his comments to Leah.

Leah nodded numbly, and Anatoly took a step closer to her. “We’ll take Leah to the station.”

Lorenzo paused and studied Anatoly for a moment. “It might be more efficient if she rode with me or one of the other detectives. That way we could ask her some questions on the way over.”

“She’s been through enough without being forced to ride in a police car like some kind of criminal,” Anatoly said firmly.

My eyes traveled from Anatoly to Lorenzo. It was a no-brainer that Anatoly wanted to coach Leah on what to say before she answered any more questions, and it was equally obvious that Lorenzo would do whatever he could to prevent that from happening.

Lorenzo smiled and turned his attention back to Leah. “You know, Mr. Darinsky is right. You’ve been through enough. The last thing you need is to be dragged to some ugly police station. Why don’t we just sit in the car over there—” he instinctively held up his hand to block Anatoly’s predictable protest “—the unmarked car, in the front seat. I’ll have one of the guys bring us some coffee and we’ll finish the questions here.”

Anatoly’s jaw got a little tighter but he didn’t say anything. Leah looked to me questioningly for what I assumed was guidance. Ironic, since if she had ever taken my guidance before she never would have married Bob in the first place. But now I was all “guidanced out,” so of course I looked to Anatoly, who managed to loosen his jaw enough to speak.

“Go ahead, Leah, we’ll be waiting for you here.”

Leah allowed Lorenzo to steer her gently to the proper car. He stopped to talk to one of the uniformed officers, possibly to request the promised coffee, which was just stupid because the last thing Leah needed was to be more amped.

Anatoly stood silently with his arms crossed in front of him.

“Where’s the hidden camera?” I whispered.

Anatoly’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“You know, the spy stuff that detectives carry around with them when they go to crime scenes.”

Anatoly shook his head in disgust. “I was in the Russian Army, not the KGB. I don’t have any spy stuff.”

Well, that was disappointing. “Not even a mini tape recorder?”

“Not even that.”

“Then what the hell did you go back up to your apartment for?”

“A jacket.”

“You are so not worth twelve thousand dollars.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you had ever given me the opportunity to get you undressed.”

I opened my mouth to make a clever comeback, but then quickly closed it in order to keep the drool in. Not healthy. I really needed to try to be more somber. I thought about Bob’s early demise. Unfortunately that didn’t sufficiently lower my spirits. I turned my thoughts to Leah’s potential incarceration. That did it.

“Do you think she’s telling him—”

“Sophie, do us all a favor and shut up.”

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“When did you get the impression I was nice?”

“Good point. So this undressing thing…is that really part of services rendered? Because it’s a good marketing tool. ‘Hire Darinsky, he’ll catch your spouse with his pants down, and as a consolation he’ll lower yours, as well.’ Really, I think there could be a high demand for that. But since I’m hiring you for more solemn purposes, I think I’ll have to pass.”

“I didn’t actually offer.”

“The hell you didn’t.”

Anatoly smiled slightly. “I’d forgotten what you were like when you weren’t busy setting people up for murder.”

“Yep, this is me. Spunky and fun.”

“I was thinking argumentative and insane, but you should stick to the euphemisms that work best for you,” Anatoly said.

I gave him what I hoped came across as a disdainful glare. “I’m cold. I’m going back to the car.”

Anatoly hesitated, then carefully removed his jacket and held it out for me. I couldn’t help grinning while I slipped my arms into the sleeves. This is what I liked about Anatoly: he was full of contradictions. Though the jacket was about eight sizes too big, I managed to find a way to get my hands into the pockets. Anatoly reached out to stop me but it was too late—I had already felt it.

“What’s this?”

“Nothing, now just—”

“It’s a tape recorder! And it’s on, isn’t it.”

“Shh!”

“You
do
have spy stuff,” I hissed.

“Sophie, this is not the place. We’ll talk about it when we’re alone.”

“Oh, please, no one’s listening. You just don’t want to admit I was right.”

“You were right. Now shut up.”

I wasn’t quite as offended by the command now that I knew I was right. I simply spent the rest of the time smiling smugly at him while he ignored me. Finally, Leah emerged from the car and came over to us.

“Please get me out of here.”

My smugness was instantly squashed. Hopefully the fact that I kept forgetting about Leah’s plight was due to shock and denial and not extensive egocentrism. I ushered Leah to my car, where Anatoly once again assumed the role of driver. Leah refused my offer of the front passenger seat and tried to open the back door for herself. Unfortunately her hand was shaking so badly that she found even this task too difficult. I opened it and buckled her seat belt for her before crawling into the seat next to Anatoly.

The first five minutes of the drive were silent. It occurred to me that it would have been better if this had happened back when Leah was under the illusion that her marriage was successful. That way her final memories of Bob likely would have been positive. As it stood now, she had been robbed not only of her husband but also of the right to be angry with him. Unless of course it had been that anger that had led to his death. I shook my head vigorously and Anatoly gave me a questioning glance that I didn’t bother responding to. I wasn’t going to allow myself those thoughts. Leah was a lot of things—neurotic, insecure, judgmental—but she also had a good heart. She was simply not capable of murder.

“Jack! Oh my God, I forgot about Jack!”

I quickly turned toward Leah. “Forgot him? Forgot him where?” Images of Jack suffocating in the back seat of her Volvo flashed in front of my eyes.

“I dropped him off with Miranda for a playdate this afternoon. Oh Lord, what am I going to say to him?”

I doubted it was necessary to explain a father’s death to an eighteen-month-old child, particularly if the victim was a man that had a stronger relationship with his laptop than his son. “Why don’t you call Miranda and see if Jack can sleep over?”

“I couldn’t. It’s asking too much.”

“She’ll understand.”

“Sophie…”

“Phone.” I stuck my hand between the seats and Leah reluctantly pressed her cell phone into my palm. I looked up Miranda’s number in the memory and pressed Call.

“Allen residence.” The woman on the other end of the line spoke with a Mexican accent and sounded extremely harried.

“Hi, this is Sophie Katz, Jack’s aunt….”

“Oh, thank goodness! You’re coming to get Master Jack.”

Master Jack? Who instructed their ethnic nanny to call their charge’s playmates “Master”? “Well, actually I’m not. You know I think I should explain this to Mrs. Allen.”

“But you
are
picking him up?” The desperation in the woman’s voice was palpable.

“I really need to talk to Mrs. Allen.”

“Of course.” Was she crying? “I’ll get her.”

My heartbeat quickened as I waited for Miranda to pick up the line. What had Jack done now? Polluted the family’s drinking water with Epsom salts? What if they didn’t let him stay? I empathized with the nanny, but this felt like a her-or-me kind of situation, and I’d be damned if I was up for dealing with a Junior Moriarty.

“Hello? Sophie? It’s Miranda. Is Leah all right?”

“Hi, Miranda. Leah’s…” I looked behind me to see Leah methodically rotating her wedding band around her finger. “Leah’s had a rough night.”

“Yes, she told me about the affair….”

“It’s more than that,” I began. “There’s been a…an unexpected death in the family.”

“I am so sorry to hear that, Sophie. Was it your mother?”

“Mama? Oh, no! Nothing that bad, it was just Bob.” As soon as the words came out I realized how bad they sounded and how horrible I was for saying them. Fortunately my rabbi had informed me there wasn’t a hell to go to. I just had to learn to live with guilt.