Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights (36 page)

I chewed on my lip and took another look at the contents of Taylor’s home. “Did you buy
him
stuff?”

“Are you asking if Bob was a kept man?” Taylor shook her head. “With the exception of those few nights at the Gatsby I never spent a dime on him.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared directly into my eyes. “I fail to see how any of this will help you transfer the blame for Bob’s death from Leah to this Bianca woman.”

I nodded and let my fingers run over the top of a low mahogany bookcase. “I was just thinking that Bianca has money and you obviously do well for yourself…”

“I’m a corporate executive,” Taylor said tersely. “Of course I make a good salary.”

Anatoly hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “I don’t think Sophie was implying that your affluence wasn’t earned.”

“I’m sorry.” Taylor’s hand went up to pat her hair, which was once again pulled back into a severe French twist. “I just get tired of defending my lifestyle to the abundant number of misguided socialists that populate this city.”

“I’m all for capitalism.” I picked up a porcelain candlestick and verified the Lenox label. “It’s murder that I have a problem with, which leads me to my next question. Is there any chance you and Bob earned some of your affluence in a manner that might have been frowned upon by the rest of Chalet’s executives?”

Taylor’s jaw set. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

I looked over at Anatoly and he nodded, letting me know it was okay to proceed. “Is it possible that in addition to screwing Bob you were also screwing your place of business?”

Taylor took three advancing steps. “Get out of my home. Now.”

“Just one more question,” Anatoly said. “When you had dinner with James on the night Bob died, what did you order?”

“I don’t need to answer your questions.”

“Am I to take that to mean you don’t remember, or that you were lying about ever being there to begin with.”

“I had the pan-roasted squab.” She walked to the door and yanked it open. “I’ve had enough of this. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

Anatoly gently took my arm. “Thank you for talking to us, Ms. Blake. It was enlightening.”

The minute we had recrossed the threshold, Taylor slammed the door behind us. “What do you think?” I asked as we made our way down the stairs.

“I did some checking. James’s credit card records show that he did eat at The Grand Café that night.”

I looked up at him, squinting as we stepped into the sun. “How did you get hold of his credit card records?”

“I have my contacts.”

“But isn’t it illegal to give out that kind of information?”

“Since when have you been concerned with following the rules?”

“I’m not—just curious.” I stuck my hands in my pockets. “You know, there’s a possible suspect that we haven’t looked at.”

“And who would that be?”

“Porsha.” Anatoly rolled his eyes, but I held my hand up to stave off his protests. “Listen, what if she found out about Bianca’s affair and she just lost it? We know she’s fiercely protective of her sister. Maybe she went a little overboard?”

Anatoly shook his head. “I figured you’d try to pin this on her at some point, so I did a little research. She has an airtight alibi for the night Bob was killed.”

“Oh yeah? What was she doing? Playing croquet?”

“She was at a fund-raiser for her alma mater.”

“I was close,” I muttered. “I still think it could have been her.”

“The fund-raiser was in Connecticut, Sophie.”

“Yeah, but you know women like Porsha and Taylor are way too smart to get their own hands dirty. One of them probably hired a hit man or something.”

“That’s a nice theory but it’s a bit far-fetched.”

“Why’s that? I’m sure they both have the money to pay for one.”

“Do you have any idea how one goes about hiring a professional hit man?”

I hesitated before answering. It seemed unlikely they would be listed in the Yellow Pages. “You got me—how does one go about it?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” He shifted his weight back on his heels. “In fact, there are very few people who could. I’m sure if a person was a member of an organized crime family, finding a hit man would be a piece of cake, but neither Porsha nor Taylor strike me as the Mafia type.”

“Just because they’re not Italian doesn’t mean they’re not Mafia,” I pointed out. “There’s a Jewish Mafia, a Chinese Mafia and a Latino Mafia, so why shouldn’t there be a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant Mafia?”

“I suppose anything’s possible.” Anatoly’s mouth moved into a slow sensuous smile. “I never thought that I would be intimate with a woman who was responsible for getting me shot, but that didn’t stop me from ravishing you yesterday.” He stepped closer to me. “It won’t stop me next time, either.”

I felt a slight tingling in my nether regions. “We’ve come a long way since I tried to send you to San Quentin.”

“Yes.” Anatoly grabbed both sides of my jacket and pulled me to him. “Some would say we’ve gone all the way.”

He moved in for a kiss, and for a moment the world around us melted away. The tingling I had felt morphed into more of a vibrating sensation. Then I heard music—actual music. Beethoven’s Fifth, to be precise. I groaned as I backed away in order to pull the vibrating phone out of my purse.

“What!” I snapped after verifying that the call was coming from my home.

“Yo, Sophie, Leah’s lawyer just called,” Jerome said. “Her bail hearing’s in two hours. He wants you and your mom to be there.”

CHAPTER 18

“Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately it’s attached to an oncoming train.”

—
Words To Die By

L
eah looked the picture of innocence and composure as she sat next to Timothy. I held Mama’s hand as Timothy argued for Leah’s right to bail, and I held it tighter when the DA stated their case for her continued incarceration. Fortunately, the police had yet to rule Erika’s death a homicide, so the judge made his decision based on the single charge of second-degree murder, and he ended up granting her bail. My relief was quickly quelled when she announced that it would be set at five hundred thousand dollars. Dollars to doughnuts crimes of passion were cheaper in France.

“What, are they
meshuga?
” Mama sputtered. “How am I supposed to get my hands on that kind of money?”

“We could start by selling Bianca’s bracelet,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I offered her a reassuring smile. “I have the money in a retirement fund,” I said, helping her to her feet. “I could use it as collateral for a bail bondman.”

“I don’t like those bondmen. A bunch of nogoodniks if you ask me.”

“Have you ever met a bail bondman?”

“I watch TV. You mark my words, those people are nothing but trouble. You empty your retirement fund and bail out your sister yourself.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of penalties I’ll have to pay for taking the money out early?”

“Listen to you! Your sister’s in prison and you talk to me about penalties?”

“She’s not in prison. She’s sharing a jail cell with a high-priced call girl who gets her hair done at Vidal Sassoon. Somehow I don’t think she’s at risk of becoming anyone’s bitch.”

Mama’s eyes narrowed. “Leah called me two days ago. She told me that there was something you needed to tell me. She said it was about her Barbie Dream House.”

“Oh, come on! That doll house was expensive but it wasn’t five-hundred-grand expensive. Leah can wait another day while I get a bondman to verify my assets and advance me the cash.”

“Fine, fine, so I spend a few more hours wondering what horrible things are happening to my Leah in that awful place. The doctor told me that my blood pressure has become dangerously high, but don’t let that worry you. I’m sure if I have a heart attack I’ll survive it.”

I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. “I’ll place a call to Smith Barney and see what I can come up with.”

“You’re a good sister.” Mama patted my knee. “Now if we can just clear Leah and get a ring on your finger, we’ll be in business.”

After a forty-five-minute conversation with my broker and a lot of financial maneuvering, I was able to come up with the money to bail Leah out by the end of the afternoon. Fortunately, Jerome was willing and able to stay with Jack while I worked everything out.

Leah was silent for the entire drive home. When we got to my apartment she barely acknowledged Jerome. She just beelined to Jack and swept him up into her arms. “Mommy’s home,” she whispered into his ear. “Mommy’s home.”

I nodded to Jerome. “Thanks for watching him.”

“No sweat,” he said distractedly as he watched Leah rock back and forth, her son’s head pressed to her shoulder. “What was the bail set at?”

“Five hundred grand.”

Jerome let out a low whistle. “You two need some downtime, so I’ll split.” He gathered up his coat and turned to Leah. “When folks read my article the SFPD and DA are gonna be sorry they ever messed with you.”

Leah turned her head slightly in his direction. “Later,” she said softly. “We can talk about that later.”

Jerome hesitated, as if he wanted to try to find some other words that might be of more comfort. Finally he shrugged in defeat and headed out.

I waited a few minutes while Leah whispered more endearments into Jack’s ear. He was being surprisingly agreeable at the moment. Maybe he really had missed his mom.

“Are you okay?” I asked finally, sitting down on the love seat.

“Would you be?”

“Point taken.” I sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“Do those idiots still think I’m working with Cheryl?”

“I think it’s just one of fifty million theories.”

“I bet Cheryl did it on her own,” Leah grumbled. “Timothy said they haven’t been able to locate her. He said she just took off without a word to anyone.”

“Who, exactly, would she have left word with? Right now she’s one of the most hated women in the city.”

“How do they feel about me?” Leah asked as she carried Jack over to the window. “Do people still see me as some kind of ethnic scapegoat or do they think I’m a cold-blooded murderess?”

“I think you could find support for both opinions.”

“What about you?”

My eyes widened enough that it felt like the lines in my forehead popped out. “Surely you know that I believe in your innocence.”

“I know that you love me,” she said, blinking back the tears. “But, Sophie, you must have your doubts.”

I stood up and walked to her side. “Not even one.” And it was true. All the doubts that had once plagued me were long gone. “I know you, Leah,” I said firmly. “You’re neurotic, high maintenance, and at times you are a major pain in the ass. You’re also one of the best people I know. You didn’t do this.”

“Well, what do you know?” Leah smiled weakly. “Someone finally believes in me.”

“Always.”

“What if the jury doesn’t agree and they convict me? What will Jack think?” Leah closed her eyes as the tears began to run down her cheeks. “He’ll spend his life hearing others talk about how his mother killed his father.”

“Anatoly and I are going to do everything in our power to clear you before you ever have to set foot in another courtroom. Right now he’s with Timothy going over a tape recording he made of Taylor confessing to her affair with Bob. That tape alone might get you off.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“If things start looking that bad we’ll pack your Dooney & Bourke, buy a passport on eBay and hightail it to some little resort town in a third-world country that lacks extradition laws.”

“You would lose five hundred thousand dollars if I were to skip bail.”

“A worthwhile investment.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to let you go to prison. No matter what.”

Jack started to squirm, so Leah put him on the ground and we watched as he began destroying my blinds.

Leah shook her head. “You know, not all children do this.”

“Yeah, your son is kind of…special.” I stepped around him and went to the kitchen to get us both a soda. I wanted something stronger, but I needed a clear head. “I need to ask you a question.”

Leah reached her hand out to accept the diet cola. “What is it?”

“Was Bob…unethical?”

Leah paused for a beat. “Is this a trick question?”

“I mean in his business practices. Is there any chance he was embezzling money from Chalet?”

“Are you serious?” Apparently my expression answered her question. “God, I guess it’s possible. He certainly spent enough money over the past two years.”

“Yet you’re not in major debt. Didn’t you ever wonder where the money was coming from?”

“No, I just thought we weren’t saving anything.”

“But there were a lot of expenses that you didn’t know about, like the gifts he was buying for his mistresses.”

“True… Wait a minute! Does this mean those repo people are going to start taking my things? Do I need to hide the Nordstrom bags?”

“Okay, I’m thinking you’re not really grasping the significance of this. If he was embezzling, it adds a whole new angle to his murder case.”

“How so?”

“Well, maybe he was embezzling with Taylor and he cut her out of the loop, or worse yet, maybe he was setting her up to take the fall.”

“That does make more sense than his sleeping with her.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t comment. If Leah didn’t want to believe Bob was sleeping with the boss, who was I to burst her bubble?

“If he was embezzling he must have done a great job of hiding the evidence,” she continued. “James loved him.”

“Well, yeah, I assume that’s why he gave him all the promotions.”

“And Chalet is doing really well.” Leah popped her drink open and took a long gulp. “If he was taking money it wasn’t hurting them much.”

“But that just makes it all the more likely.” I knelt down and tried to direct Jack’s attention away from my blinds by handing him a discarded cat toy. “If Chalet was generating a huge revenue, it would be easy to drain ten thousand dollars here and twenty there. And Chalet just went public, so until recently they didn’t have as many checks and balances as other companies.”