The Third Sin (27 page)

Sonya had no desire to be a doting stepmother and felt that Keith's girls were too old and too set in their ways to accept her as a parent. She had not been looking forward to trying to get out of joining Keith for this vacation. Now she had something else to talk to him about, and horrible as it would be to tell him Perry's story, it would also be a relief.

She wasn't sure Keith would accept her belief that the hit man had been after Kirsten, not her. But she was convinced that she was right.

Keith's face lit up when he saw Sonya enter the coffee shop. He put his arm around her and kissed her on the top of the head as he pulled her toward him. “I've ordered the usual for you,” he said. “The waitress reserved a table in the back for us, so we can talk.”

Though it was Sunday, the deli was busy because of its generous brunch specials. Sonya followed Keith as he threaded his way through the crowded tables. He had a well-proportioned body and moved with a lanky grace. Sonya loved to watch him.

“The news is all good,” he said as he pulled out a chair for her. “I've arranged for time off in two weeks. The Maine coast is great at this time of year. We'll drive up to Stonington, a little lobstermen's village on Deer Isle.

“Since the girls have been living in Southern California for a while, they haven't seen the leaves change color in years. I think they'll like driving up, and then we can go fishing like we used to. Maybe we'll even go whale watching.”

Sonya could tell that he was about to ask if she was coming. She didn't want to give him an answer, so she changed the subject.

“I need to talk to you about the shooting and the Bruckheimer story.”

Keith looked annoyed, then put his hand on hers and replied, “Okay. I want to tie up this murder and get you out of danger.”

She related Perry's story about the man in the bar and told Keith how hurt she was. She could tell that he was thinking like a cop when he said, “Don't be too hard on him, Red. Perry's in love with you.

“I'm willing to bet that this Arthur Singer was buying the beers. You've told me that usually Perry doesn't drink much. I guess he ended up not knowing what he was saying.”

The waitress arrived with their sandwiches. Keith bit into his and grunted with pleasure before he spoke.

“We can't assume anything until we've got more information, and I'll send someone to talk to Perry, but it's a pretty thin lead. Sure, it's possible that Singer is the hit man, but he could just be a nosy writer.”

“Then what about the phone number? Why did he give Perry a wrong number?”

Keith shrugged. “It could've been a simple mistake. A slip of the tongue. If they were both drinking for at least a couple of hours, it's easy to imagine what state they were in.”

Sonya wasn't convinced. “I still think Singer's connected to the shooting.”

“It does all seem to add up neatly. But what's the motive for killing you? We keep coming back to that. What did you do, or what do you know that would make some Bruckheimer want you dead?”

Time to tell Keith the rest of her theory. Sonya began slowly. “Perry told Singer that I would probably send an intern for a stray tape. And the more I thought about it, the more I understood that no one would ever mistake Kirsten for me. We may have the same color hair and I know she was wearing my coat, but she's much taller than I am and much skinnier.

“Plus, Keith, I'm thirty-nine years old and even in a parking garage, I don't think I look anything like an intern. So if the hit man was after me, he wouldn't have fired at Kirsten. No. I have no doubt that he was after her. I don't know why, but I'm sure there's a motive. I just have to figure out what it is.”

His face lit up. “You're right,” said Keith. “Red, you are one smart cookie and I love you.” He leaned over the table and brushed his fingers against her cheek. “Well, I've got my work cut out for the day. I've decided to talk to Perry myself and get him to go through some mug books and sit down with a sketch artist. Let's see if we can find this Arthur Singer, or at least figure out what he looks like. And I'll follow up on that phone number.”

He signaled for the check. “Sonya, tell me when can I expect a decision about our holiday. I need to confirm the reservations as soon as I can. If I leave it until the last minute the best rooms will be taken, and I want everything to be perfect. They're great girls. I don't expect you to love them yet, but I hope that if you spend some time together, you'll enjoy being with them.”

Sonya felt trapped. “Keith, don't you think I should at least meet your daughters before we spend two weeks together? It's not fair to them or to me—we're strangers to one another. Let's have dinner when they arrive. Then you spend a week with them, without me. The girls haven't seen you for months and shouldn't have to compete with your girlfriend for your time and attention.”

Frowning, Keith picked up his mug and drained the dregs of his coffee. She saw the disappointment on his face. “Think about it, please, Keith. Surely you want us to get off on the right foot together. I'm not trying to avoid them. I'm being realistic. I've been through this before, remember? Let's discuss it tonight when we're both more relaxed.”

Keith huffed a sigh and said, “Any idea where I can find Perry?”

“He's working today so he can't be far away. Let me give you the number.”

Keith called, listened for a moment, and then said, “Voice mail.”

Sonya said, “When I get back to the office, I'll find him and tell him to call you.”

“Do you have to go back to work? Even if the hit man was after Kirsten, I'm still not convinced you're safe. I'd worry less about you if I knew you were at home, behind a double-locked door.”

“What happened with Kirsten was a violation of our security procedures, but Keith, I really think I'm safer at work—where there are plenty of other people around, even on a Sunday—than I would be alone at the apartment,” Sonya said. “Stop worrying. I'll be fine.”

Keith escorted her to the network building. They parted at the reception desk, where Keith asked how many people were in the building that day. The receptionist said, “Don't worry, Detective. Since the shooting, we've doubled the number of guards patrolling the place. Sonya will be fine.”

In the elevator, Sonya began to think more seriously about the idea that the hit man had been after Kirsten. Why would anyone want to kill her? Maybe someone thought Kirsten knew who'd murdered Wade. Sonya began to compile a new list of suspects in her mind. As soon as she got to her desk, she'd lay them out and start making notes.

When she pushed open her office door, she jumped in surprise. Perry was lounging in her chair with his feet on the desk.

“Why didn't you answer your phone?” she snapped. “Keith wants to question you.”

“Is that who that was? I didn't want to answer, in case it was Arthur Singer again, using some new number.” He got up and moved away from Sonya's chair, then perched on the corner of her desk. “I wanted to know if we were okay now,” he said softly.

Sonya was tired of reassuring him, especially because she still wasn't sure if they were “okay” yet. “Perry, let's move on,” she said. “Let me ask you: do you believe Singer was after me or Kirsten?”

“I don't know, but after we talked this morning, I began to think it was Kirsten.”

“Why?”

“All the questions he asked about Kirsten and what she did. He was interested in every detail, and when I thought about it, that seemed strange, because Kirsten is just an intern.”

“I've come to the same conclusion. After all, who would benefit from my death? No one. Donna would assign somebody else to finish the story.

“On the other hand, Kirsten was close to Wade Bruckheimer. What did she know, and who would benefit from seeing her dead?”

Perry shook his head and shrugged. “I don't know.”

Sonya's mind was racing. “Blair? Or maybe Harold, who can't seem to get his hands on the estate even though he's Wade's executor.

“What about Irina—she had plenty of opportunity to get to Wade. She threatened me earlier today. And for Irina, the fate of the diamond was more than enough motive.”

“But where did the hit man come from?” Perry interrupted.

Sonya said, “I think there are several possibilities, but most likely there's a Brazilian connection through either Jorge or Bella.”

“I'd put my money on Jorge Dias. We know he brought Wade sleeping pills.”

“He may have had the pills, but I doubt that he had the opportunity to put them in the ice cream—or that he would stoop to handling the poison himself. And Wade was a direct blood relative, a Dias. Bella's another story. She had every chance to do it, and she also had access to Wade's pills.”

“But why would she want someone to shoot Kirsten?”

“I don't know.” Sonya sat bolt upright as fear stabbed through her. “I don't think Kirsten is safe at the hospital. Let's get over there right now.”

She grabbed her bag, her coat, and her phone. Perry opened the door and they ran down the hall. Sonya worked the speed-dial on her phone. She was terrified.

 

Chapter
34

S
UNDAY, 2:00 P.M.

Kirsten's hospital room

“Why doesn't Kirsten answer?” Sonya said when her call went to voice mail. She disconnected and immediately redialed. “Answer the damned phone!”

They were in Perry's van, trying desperately to get across town from the network offices. A parade on Fifth Avenue made negotiating through what should have been light Sunday traffic extremely slow.

“There's one of these parades every weekend. Something should be done about them. They make the city impossible,” Perry complained.

“I know. I'm just worried that Kirsten is alone.”

“Didn't you say there's a security guard stationed outside her room?”

“Yes, but I think I know who arranged to shoot Kirsten. And if I'm right they'll try to kill her again. And the security guard might not know to stop them.” She tried to reach Keith but was once again sent to voice mail. Sonya nearly snarled as she redialed.

“First I thought that Wade's murder and the attack on Kirsten had been done by the same person, but then I realized that in a family like the Bruckheimers, there are lots of reasons why someone might want another relative out of the way. Who was desperate enough to want Kirsten dead, and why? Who could find a hit man at a moment's notice? Those were the two questions I had to answer.”

Perry maneuvered through the crowd, then leaned out the window to shout his thanks to the traffic cop who waved him across the avenue.

“It has something to do with the Braganza, doesn't it? Somehow, Kirsten could affect where the diamond wound up.”

“Exactly,” Sonya agreed. “And what's the only way Kirsten could do that?” Laying it out like this for Perry only increased her conviction that she was right about everything.

“You've got me,” he said as he steered the van through a group of jaywalkers. Sonya knew he was focused on driving, though to her the answer seemed obvious.

“She could inherit it.” Perry took his eyes off the road for an instant to shoot Sonya a look.

“You mean Wade left the diamond to Kirsten, not Bella?”

“That's what I believe,” Sonya said.

“That got me thinking about who in the family could easily hire a hit man,” Sonya continued. “Jorge, Bella, and Irina seem the most likely candidates. And even though Jorge knew that Wade wanted to sell the stone, I'm sure he thought that Wade's will would return the diamond to the Diases, as Esperanza supposedly wanted.” Sonya shook her head. “I know that doesn't make complete sense, but Jorge Dias seems to operate using a very personal kind of logic.”

Perry grunted at her to continue.

“The more I've learned about Irina, the less likely I think she is as a suspect. Irina is genuinely worried about Kirsten. She didn't want her to be exposed in the press. She wants to protect her, not hurt her.

“Besides, Wade was already dead and Irina was certain that Harold, as executor of Wade's estate, would hold onto the diamond for her. So that lets Irina out, I think.

“As for Bella, she wanted everything she could get from Wade, but she's too much of a partygoer to seriously want to kill someone. Rico, her brother, sounds like a different story, and no one knows where he is right now, so that's still a possibility. And he might have been able to set up the hit, even if he didn't pull the trigger himself.”

“Rico's from Brazil, right?” Perry asked.

“Yes,” Sonya confirmed.

“So whoever Arthur Singer was, he wasn't Rico.”

“Good point,” Sonya said. She tried Kirsten's number again. It was busy. She kept hitting redial until Kirsten answered. Sonya practically sobbed with relief when she heard the intern's voice. “Are you okay? Has any stranger come into your room? Have you gotten any unusual calls?”

Kirsten sounded puzzled as she replied, “No strangers, no strange calls. The doctor was just here. He told me I'm a model patient.” She giggled.

“I've been trying to reach you for ages. Why didn't you answer?” Sonya demanded.

“I turned my cell off when the doctor came in. The only other call I've gotten today was from Harold. He and Irina are on their way. Irina's bringing a pile of fashion magazines for me, he said.”

Sonya kept her tone casual to hide her anxiety. “Right, I knew that. Perry and I are fighting traffic, but we'll be there soon.”

“Sonya, do you have any news about Uncle Wade's murderer? I haven't heard a word.”

“Let's not talk about it on the phone.”

“Okay. I understand.” She hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “Sonya, I was crazy when I told you that my mother murdered Wade.”