Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights (35 page)

“Hear me out. Taylor and Bob were both top executives in the finance department, so they were in the perfect position to take money out of the company without anyone being the wiser. But they were so focused on covering up their crime that they didn’t spend enough time covering up their affair. When James found out about that, he pushed Taylor out.”

“But at that point James still wouldn’t have known about the stealing,” I said slowly.

“Right. Now Bob is making more money than he ever has before and he has a bright future with Chalet, so perhaps he no longer wants to embezzle money. But he’s afraid that the theft that’s already taken place will be discovered. So he figures he’ll just alter a few documents and make it look like Taylor was acting on her own.”

“That’s not very nice,” I remarked.

“No, it’s not. And if Taylor found out about it she wouldn’t think it was very nice at all.”

“So we’re back to Taylor being our murderer.”

“And that’s what could have been on the floppy disk. Some evidence that tied Taylor to the embezzlement.”

I was feeling more awake now. I got to my feet and started pacing the floor. “Erika could have known about it, too,” I pointed out. “That’s why Taylor needed her dead. And maybe that’s why she kept showing up at Chalet, even though she doesn’t work there anymore. She wants to either get her job back so she’ll be in a better position to cover her tracks, or at the very least make sure James isn’t on to her.”

“It all ties together,” Anatoly concluded.

“Except Cheryl,” I said. “How does she fit into all of it?”

“She could have found out about what was going on. If she did, Bob might have been giving her hush money. Or maybe not. Maybe Cheryl is just one of the millions of Americans living beyond her means. But we know she’s aware of the affair Bob and Taylor were having, so she might suspect that Taylor’s the person who murdered her brother.”

“Why wouldn’t she just go to the police?”

“Maybe she was going to but someone stopped her.”

I stopped pacing. “You think she’s dead?” For some reason the thought hadn’t occurred to me. I didn’t want Cheryl to die. A little suffering and prison time would be okay, but death was a different story.

“I think we should visit Taylor this morning before she goes to work,” Anatoly said, leaving my last question unanswered.

“Okay…wait—can I bring Jack?”

“Are you asking if I think it’s a good idea for you to bring your eighteen-month-old nephew to the home of a possible murderess?”

“Yeah, that’s got to be on Dr. Spock’s no-no list.”

“I think Taylor’s more likely to talk to me if you’re there. Can you call your mother right now and ask her to babysit?”

I walked into the living room and looked at the wall clock. “You’re not seriously suggesting that I deal with Mama before six, are you? Plus, she had Jack all day yesterday.”

“Fine, I’ll go alone. Or maybe I’ll take Porsha, since she’s the one that helped me piece this all together.”

“Excuse me?”

“I just got off the phone with her. She claims she was up all night thinking about the expensive gifts Bob gave Bianca, and she suggested he might have been involved in some illegal activity. After some brainstorming, we came up with the embezzlement idea.”

I was so furious I couldn’t even get any words out.

“Sophie, are you still there?”

“On second thought, I don’t think I like this theory anymore,” I replied. “It’s too convenient and neat.”

“You can’t knock a theory because it works too well. I’m going to call Porsha and—”

“I’ll get a babysitter. Be here in an hour.”

I hung up the phone and racked my brain about who I could call. I knew Marcus, Dena and Mary Ann all worked today, so who did that leave me with? I looked down at a business card that had been left on the table, smiled and dialed the home number Jerome had written on the back.

“Yo, Sophie, what’s up? You hear something about Leah?”

“No, but I need a huge favor. I need a babysitter for Jack right now.”

“Girl, have you checked out the time?”

“Look, this does concern Leah. There’s something I need to do that could help her, but I can’t do it with Jack. Please, Jerome, if you want me to pay—”

“Keep the money. I was up anyhow.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “So you can come right over?”

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

I managed to get myself showered and dressed in fifteen minutes. I move faster when I’m pissed off. Why was Porsha suddenly interested in helping Anatoly solve this case? But I knew the reason even as I applied my burgundy lipliner. She wanted him. Well, she was going to have to find herself another Russian Love God, because this one was mine. Granted, I wasn’t actually in a committed relationship with him, but we
were
sleeping together. He was the first guy I had slept with in two years. Two goddamn years! I had a lot of time to make up for and there was no way I was going to stand by and let some Ivy League ice queen receive pleasure that was meant for me!

True to his word, Jerome arrived at my place at six-thirty. I motioned for him to take a seat at the table. “Thank you so much for coming. Want some coffee?”

Jerome glanced at his watch. “You gotta ask?”

I went to the kitchen to pour both of us a freshly brewed cup. “Cream and sugar?”

“Just serve it up black. Jack still sleeping?”

“Yes, he is, the lucky bastard.” I walked back into the living room with our coffee and joined him at the table.

Jerome waved a rolled-up
Chronicle
in the air. “You seen this?”

“Do I want to?”

“Probably not. This copy was in front of your door, but I read mine earlier. There’s a front-page story with a picture of Leah being led into the station in cuffs.”

“Shit.” I took a deep breath. “God help the photographer if Leah sees that photo.”

“The publicity isn’t such a bad thing. We can use it to get a protest going. Some kinda grassroots deal. The black community doesn’t want this to go down the way it went down for O.J. We need her to be innocent beyond any doubt, so the people will see that the police really are pulling the racial-profiling crap. You see, this isn’t just about Leah.”

“The hell it isn’t,” I snapped. “You know, I’m sorry if the black community needs a victory, but my sister is not an icon, she’s not a pawn and she sure as hell isn’t a martyr. She’s a person—a mother who has been taken away from her child. That’s what this is about. Not some damn cause.”

Jerome hesitated, then put his mug down softly on the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off all righteous and shit. But you gotta know I’m on Leah’s side. If you fill me in on more of what’s going on, I might be able to help.”

“And I should just take your word for it that everything I say isn’t going to show up on the cover of your magazine?” I scoffed. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. You’re a writer and writers lie.”

Jerome looked at me quizzically. “
You’re
a writer.”

“Exactly.”

“All right, I feel ya.” Jerome laughed quietly. “Well, how ’bout I tell you what we both already know.”

“I’m listening.”

“We know that Bob was killed, we think that Erika was killed, and we don’t know what the fuck happened to Cheryl.”

I put my cup down. “How do you know about Erika and Cheryl?”

“Like I said, I have my sources.” He paused, then grinned sheepishly. “In this case, my source is called the
San Francisco Chronicle
. It was all in today’s article. They also said Erika might have been messing around with Leah’s old man, same as that Bianca chick.”

“Ah.” I started massaging my temples. “Well, I’ll tell you this, I never fully believed that Erika’s death was a simple cocaine overdose. She was a diabetic with a heart condition, so it seems to me that she would have had the sense to avoid a drug that often contributes to premature heart attacks. I think someone else injected her with the drug, hoping it would kill her. They found Cheryl’s hair on the body, which means it might have been her, but this evidence is certainly not conclusive.”

“Whoa, hold up. Her hair was
on
the body? Sounds pretty damn conclusive to me.”

“There could be another explanation.”

“Like what?”

I toyed with the wristband of my watch, thinking. “She could have stopped by Erika’s after she was killed, found the body, freaked out and left.”

“Doesn’t sound too likely.”

“It’s a possibility,” I snapped. “Anyway, as much as I hate Cheryl, I can’t figure out why she would want to kill Erika.”

“And you think the person who offed Erika also took care of Bob?”

“I’d say there’s a ninety-five percent chance of it.”

“Well, it wasn’t Leah,” Jerome said definitively.

The buzzer rang and I got to my feet. “That would be Anatoly. You still have my cell number, right?”

“Got it.” Jerome reached into his pocket and waved a piece of paper in the air. “Where are you two gonna be?”

“We’re going to pay a visit to our new friend, Taylor Blake.”

I grabbed my jacket and went downstairs to meet Anatoly, who smiled as I came out the door, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I see you survived an entire night with your nephew.”

“Yeah, and you’ll be happy to know that he survived, too.” I accepted the helmet he offered me, but hesitated before putting it on my head. “Did you tell Porsha about what we’re doing?”

Anatoly’s grin widened. “I haven’t spoken to Porsha today. I just made all that up so you would be motivated enough to find a babysitter.”

“You manipulative jerk…” I said, before quickly putting my helmet on to hide my smile.

While we were riding I closed my eyes and fantasized about how nice it would be if we could just ride into an alternative universe where Leah was free as a bird, Cheryl, Taylor and Porsha didn’t exist and there were enough lubricated condoms and chocolate-covered espresso beans to keep Anatoly and me busy for days on end. But disappointingly, he took me to Telegraph Hill instead. We parked in front of a beautifully appointed building.

When we reached the door, I grabbed Anatoly’s hand just as he was about to ring her apartment.

“Did you bring a tape recorder?”

Anatoly nodded. “I even put new batteries in it.”

I let go of his hand and waited to see how long it would take Taylor to respond to the ring. It took her all of thirty seconds.

“Hello?”

“Taylor, it’s Sophie Katz—may I talk to you for a moment?”

There was a long pause before she answered. “I was just about to leave for work.”

“It will just take a minute,” I assured her.

Another pause. “What is this about?”

“Look, I’m sure that you heard Leah’s been arrested. They think she shot Bob, but personally I think it was his mistress, Bianca. I was hoping you could tell me a little about your impressions of Bob and what he was like when he wasn’t with my sister. The information may help me clear her and bust Bianca.”

“I can’t help you with that.”

“Well, maybe the media would have better luck nailing you down for an interview. I’m sure if I told them about your relationship with Bob—”

The door to the building released, and Anatoly and I entered without another word. We climbed the stairs and found Taylor waiting at her front door. She was perfectly put together and wearing a beautifully structured suit that I pegged as an Armani, giving credence to her claim that she was heading out to work. She narrowed her eyes as she caught sight of Anatoly.

“You didn’t tell me that you weren’t alone.”

“Him?” I pointed my thumb in his direction. “Oh, you can just ignore him. That’s what I always do.”

Not so much as a smile. “I don’t have much time.” She stepped away from the doorway and walked back into her living room without bothering to invite us to follow her, which we did anyway.

Taylor’s condo was magnificent. Either she had hired an interior designer or she had missed her calling. The floors were a cool marble and the furniture looked like she had bought it right off the auction block at Christie’s. She crossed to her bay window and stared out at the view of the Golden Gate and Bay Bridge.

“Taylor, it’s obvious to me that Leah didn’t see Bob for who he really was. I’m hoping that you had better insights into his character, so that I can make sense of his relationship with Bianca.”

“It’s not as if the man was complex.” Taylor turned around, her face a mask of impatience. “He was a self-serving opportunist with a taste for womanizing. What else is there to know?”

“So what was it that attracted you to him?” I asked. “His opportunism or his womanizing?”

Taylor’s eyes shot daggers in my direction and I fought the urge to beg her forgiveness and hightail it to the door. I scanned the room quickly to verify that there were no weapons within lunging distance.

“What Bob and I shared was brief and meaningless. As I said before, I had just ended a relationship—”

“Yeah, I remember the story,” I said. I heard Anatoly mutter a curse under his breath. I threw him a questioning glance before I realized I had just screwed up a golden opportunity to have Taylor repeat her story for the tape recorder. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“No, you’re right. I have told you everything there is to tell, so there’s no real reason for you to be here.”

“Perhaps you could tell us about your professional relationship with him,” I urged. “Was he hardworking? Detail oriented? Ethical?”

I thought I saw her flinch, but it had been so fleeting that I couldn’t be sure. “As far as I know, Bob saved his unethical behavior for his personal life. Why, do
you
have reason to believe otherwise?”

“No, but Bob did seem to spend a lot more money than he made and it’s not like he had a lot of credit card debt, so it begs the question…”

“Bob told me he dabbled a lot in the stock market, but I’m certainly not the person to be asking about that.”

“Did Bob spend a lot of money on you during your relationship?” Anatoly asked as he openly admired the flat-screen TV.

Taylor looked genuinely amused. “If you think I involved myself with Bob because I wanted a man to spoil me, you not only don’t know Bob but you’ve completely misjudged me.”