Читать книгу Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights - Kyra Davis - Страница 10

“But she can’t be a slut,” Sara said with a confused shake of her head. “She buys her bras at Mervyn’s.”

—Words To Die By

As it turned out, Bianca lived in an eight-story building at the top of Nob Hill. Anatoly found her name next to a buzzer for the seventh-floor flat. “A twenty-one-year-old with a condo kitty-corner to Grace Cathedral.” Anatoly made an appreciative clucking sound with his tongue. “Pretty impressive prize for a man you described as the world’s biggest schmuck.”

“She probably has buck teeth and a lazy eye.”

Anatoly shrugged and pressed the buzzer. A few seconds later a feminine voice come through the speaker. “Yes?”

Anatoly held up his hand to stop me from saying anything. “Hello, Miss Whitman? My name is Anatoly Darinsky. I’m a private investigator. I was hired by Bob Miller’s family to investigate his death.”

There was a moment’s pause and then we heard a loud buzz as the door before us unlocked. Anatoly held it open for me and we waited at the elevator.

“At what point do I get to rip her hair out?” I whispered.

“No hair ripping. We’re going to make her feel as comfortable as possible.”

“You think she’s going to be comfortable talking to the sister of her lover’s wife?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Give me a break.”

“You’re not Leah’s sister,” he said as we stepped onto the elevator.

“I’m not?”

“Not for this interview. You’re my assistant and you will behave as such.”

I tapped my finger against my lips thoughtfully. “I like that. You know, I bet that a few weeks of working with you would be enough to drive me to the edge of insanity. I might just have a breakdown and start tearing out the hair of some adulterous slut for no reason.”

“Sophie…”

“Relax,” I said. “I’m just kidding…sort of.”

The elevator doors opened to the seventh floor, and standing in a small foyer was a pretty petite blonde wearing khakis and a white button-up blouse. A pink cardigan was draped over her shoulders.

Anatoly extended his hand to her. “Miss Whitman? Thank you for seeing me. This is—”

Bianca’s hand flew to her mouth. “You’re Sophie Katz, Leah’s sister!”

Well, so much for that plan. Anatoly looked away to better hide the pained expression on his face.

“You know me?” My hand instinctively clenched into a fist.

“Yes, of course! I’ve read every one of your books! I…oh, you must hate me. I don’t blame you. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” She bit her lip and looked down at her kitten-heeled sling-backs. “I keep thinking that this is some kind of nightmare—that none of this could possibly be true.”

“No, it’s true,” I said flatly. “Someone shot the bastard.”

Anatoly looked up at the ceiling and mumbled something in Russian, and Bianca’s eyes welled up with tears. “God help me, this is all my fault!”

Now, that was interesting. Anatoly and I exchanged quick looks. He put a comforting hand on her arm.

“Why don’t we step inside and talk.”

Bianca nodded weakly and turned to lead us into her home. The place was tastefully appointed in a very Laura Ashley way. She waved a hand at a floral couch and Anatoly and I took our seats. Bianca went to her purse, pulled out a lace handkerchief and gently dabbed her eyes. First Cheryl and now Bianca—at what point did hankies come back in vogue?

“Can I get you two anything? Coffee, tea? I think I have some ice tea left over from yesterday.”

“We’re fine,” Anatoly said. “I know you’re going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah, so is my sister,” I muttered under my breath.

Anatoly discreetly gave my arm a painful pinch and a little whimper escaped Bianca’s heart-shaped mouth as she sat down on the love seat opposite us. She lowered her head and looked up at me with misty blue eyes.

“As I said, I don’t blame you for hating me. I know what I did was awful. If I could take it all back—” Her voice caught and she looked away. “If I could just go back in time and make things right…”

“What did you mean when you said all this is your fault?” Anatoly asked.

“I started the chain of events that led to Bob’s death.” Bianca laced her fingers together and scrunched the hankie between her hands. “I knew getting involved with him was a mistake. Even if Leah was cheating on him…”

“Hello?” I jumped to my feet. “My sister never cheated on anyone in her life. It was the scum she was married to who had a hard time keeping it in his pants!”

Bianca looked startled for a moment, then compassionate. “I shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t tell you. It’s hardly the kind of thing one brags about. But she did cheat on him. It was her indiscretion that first brought Bob and me together. Both of us discovered that we had been betrayed by the people we loved and we sought solace in each other.”

I shook my head and opened my mouth to defend Leah against Bob’s lies, but Anatoly grabbed my hand and yanked me back down onto the couch. He cleared his throat and looked at Bianca. “Please continue. You were explaining how you started a chain of events.”

“Yes.” Bianca looked at me pityingly. “It started as just a friendship. I was at the bar at Boulevard waiting for a friend and he was there waiting for his associates to show up for a business dinner. He inadvertently overheard me while I was talking to my sister on my cell. I was telling her about what happened with Kevin—Kevin was my fiancé. He…he left me for someone else. When I hung up, Bob introduced himself. He told me he knew what I was going through because he was going through something similar—that was right after he had walked in on Leah in the arms of her personal trainer…”

“Are you kidding? My sister would rather die than get involved with anyone who worked at a gym.”

“Sophie, shut up,” Anatoly said calmly. He smiled again at Bianca and gestured for her to continue.

Bianca looked nervously between the two of us. “Well, we became friends, and the more time we spent together the more we discovered we had in common.” She fingered a delicate gold crucifix that hung around her neck. “When Bob first told me he was leaving Leah…”

Anatoly scooted forward on the couch. “When exactly was that?”

“Well, this was the first time he planned on leaving, so that was about nine months ago.”

My eyes widened. “Bob had this planned for that long?”

“Perhaps planned isn’t the right word. He had been thinking about filing for divorce long before he met me, but it wasn’t until he found evidence that Leah was continuing to be unfaithful that he decided to go through with it. Once his mind was made up he immediately made his intentions clear to Leah. That’s when we…became more than friends.”

Anatoly’s eyes darted in my direction, presumably to assure himself that I wasn’t going to interrupt Bianca with another tirade. Frankly, I was too stunned to speak. I never would have thought Bob clever enough to pull off this level of deceit. I knew damn well that the only thing Bob had made clear to Leah nine months ago was his refusal to help with potty training.

“As you know, Bob and Leah worked things out,” Bianca continued, “if only for the sake of their son. It was awful for Bob, and Leah’s insistence that they sleep in separate bedrooms didn’t help matters. Nonetheless, he was willing to stick it out so that Jack would be raised in a two-parent home. But what we had…it was so powerful, I just don’t think either of us knew how to resist it.” Bianca hesitated and looked at me. “I’m so sorry. I know how this must sound to you.”

“I really don’t think you do,” I mumbled, thinking about the bedroom Leah had shared with her husband for the duration of their marriage.

“Well, we just couldn’t take it anymore. We loved each other so much and we had to be together. Bob told me he was going to be leaving Leah and this time nothing was going to change his mind. And I…I know this is so awful, but I was overjoyed. I was so sure that we would have this perfect future, but I didn’t think of Leah, now did I.”

“I would say the answer to that is a big no,” I agreed.

Bianca nodded and looked at her petal-pink nails. “Bob had told me how delicate her mental state was. He warned me she wouldn’t take it well—and who would? Who could possibly be gracious in the face of losing Bob?”

She had a point. If Bob had left me I would have been too busy celebrating to be gracious.

“I just didn’t anticipate that our betrayal would push her over the edge,” Bianca continued. “And now look what I’ve done! Leah may have been the one to pull the trigger but I’m the one who set this whole thing in motion.” Bianca’s lower lip began to tremble. “It’s all my fault that the love of my life is dead!”

The really frightening thing about this monologue was that she actually seemed to be buying into her own bullshit. I tried to see her the way Bob must have: a soft-spoken, white, Christian, polished, naive girl with a pedigree and a knack for codependency. In other words, she was everything Leah was not.

Anatoly studied Bianca for a moment before speaking. “There’s evidence that indicates Leah is not the one responsible for Bob’s death.”

He told the lie so effortlessly that I almost believed it myself.

“There is?” Bianca’s tears momentarily stopped. “But she’s the only one that had any kind of motive. Bob was so gentle and thoughtful—no one other than Leah would ever hurt a hair on his head.”

“I would,” I whispered. But if Anatoly or Bianca heard, they chose to ignore me.

“What about your ex-fiancé, Kevin?” Anatoly asked. “Is there any chance he wanted to reconcile with you? Perhaps Bob was in his way.”

Bianca tucked her hair behind her ears and shook her head sadly. “Kevin proposed to his new girlfriend three months ago and the two of them moved to Boston. He could care less who I’m with. The only man who really cared about me was…was…”

“My sister’s husband,” I finished for her.

Bianca shot me a pleading look. “I want you to know that I don’t intend to contact the police. If they come to me I guess I’ll have to answer their questions, but I don’t want to make any more trouble for Leah. I know I’m as much to blame as she is, and I…I don’t want to take both of Jack’s parents away from him. I don’t want that at all.” She averted her eyes and her shoulders began to tremble. “All I really want is for Bob to be alive again.”

Anatoly sighed and drummed his fingers against the armrest impatiently. “Bianca, do you know for sure that Bob informed Leah he was leaving her this last time?”

Bianca nodded without making eye contact. “He came over here right after he broke the news to her. It was the last time…we were together.” She swallowed hard. “I can’t understand how he could be gone when just yesterday he was making love to me.”

I tried to swallow my disgust, but it was impossible.

“Did he say anything about the rest of his plans for that day?” Anatoly asked.

“He said he was going to work and then he was going to go home and pack. He was planning on moving in with me that night, but said he might not get here until late. I waited and waited, and when he wasn’t here by eleven, I turned on the news and—” She stopped herself and stared fixedly at the hardwood floor.

Anatoly cleared his throat. “Did Bob ever talk about anyone he disliked or who he felt disliked him?”

“Other than Leah?”

“Yes,” Anatoly and I said in unison.

“No, everyone loved Bob.”

Those were the same words Leah had used. I had a quick flashback of a Saturday Night Live skit in which the audience of a Broadway play came out of the theater and one after another recited in a monotone voice, “It was better than Cats, I’d see it again and again.” Maybe Erika was on to something with the brainwashing thing. Worse, maybe Bob had turned all the women he had contact with into San Francisco’s version of a Stepford wife. But that didn’t work because San Francisco’s version of a Stepford wife would probably be a drag queen.

“All right, I think I have all I need for right now.” Anatoly stood up, and Bianca followed suit. “May I contact you again if I have further questions?” he asked.

Bianca nodded. She looked at me and pulled nervously at the sweater draped over her shoulders. “Please tell Leah that I’m sorry.”

“I can’t imagine that your apology would mean anything to my sister.”

Anatoly took hold of my wrist. “We’re leaving now.” He pulled me toward the door, but I resisted.

“One more thing,” I said. “May I see the bracelet?”

Anatoly shot me a questioning look. I had forgotten to tell him about the Tiffany’s receipt Leah had found.

Bianca flushed. “You know about that?”

I fixed her with a cool stare. Bianca bit her lip.

“I’ll go get it,” she whispered, and retreated into the next room.

“What bracelet?” Anatoly hissed.

“Yesterday Leah told me she found a receipt for a six-thousand-dollar bracelet.”

“And I’m just hearing about this now?”

“It’s not like it’s important. The only reason I brought it up is that I want to see what it looks like.”

“Really,” he said dryly. “This isn’t about trying to make Bianca feel guilty about the gift?”

I shrugged. “It’s an added perk.”

Bianca reappeared with a wide gold bracelet that was covered in small, sparkling yellow stones. She cupped her hand and held it out for my inspection. I poked it gingerly with my finger. “Wow, Liz Taylor’s got nothing on you. Are these diamonds?”

“Yellow sapphires.”

“Huh, those suckers must have been on special or something.”

“He gave it to me to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the day we met.” Bianca’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “He got the date wrong by six and a half weeks but I never corrected him. It was just such a romantic gesture.”

Extravagant seemed like a better word for it. Still, Bob clearly had better taste than I had given him credit for. I pulled my hand away from the bracelet. “It’s amazing how profitable immorality can be, isn’t it?”

Bianca’s lower lip started doing its trembling thing and Anatoly grabbed my arm again. “We’re really going now,” he said, more to me than to her.

Bianca trailed behind us and watched glumly as we stepped onto the elevator.

“I can’t believe I allowed you to come on these interviews,” Anatoly muttered after the doors had closed.

“I’m sorry, but she messed up my sister’s life and I don’t really give a shit how sorry she is about it. She’s probably the one who killed Bob. I mean, if she loved him so much, why is she extending her apologies to the woman she believes to be his murderer?”

“That was a bit strange.” Anatoly stepped out of the elevator on the first floor and escorted me to the sidewalk. “Do you think there’s any truth to Bianca’s assertion that Bob tried to leave Leah nine months ago?”

“No way. Leah would have told me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Leah doesn’t suffer quietly. Ever.”

Anatoly sighed and looked back at Bianca’s building.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m thinking that if the police end up talking to Bianca they’re going to think that she…”

“Has an unhealthy lack of cynicism?” I offered.

Anatoly laughed softly. “She is incredibly naive, but what I was going to say was that she comes across as being credible.” He looked at me and the gravity in his expression chilled me. “They’re going to think she is a lot more credible than your sister.”

I didn’t say anything, and Anatoly was wise enough not to push the issue. We mounted his Harley and rode to my apartment in silence. When he stopped the bike in front of my doorstep I muttered a goodbye and walked swiftly to the door.

“Sophie?”

I turned to see that Anatoly had gotten off his bike and was standing with his helmet in his hands. “I know this is hard, but for a moment I want you to pretend that you don’t love Leah. I want you to think about the things she’s done in the past and the things she hasn’t, and then I want you to tell me if you believe she could be capable of murder.”

I swallowed and turned away.

“Sophie, even if the answer is yes, I’ll still help you protect her.”

“Why?” I shook my head in bewilderment. “It’s not like you owe me anything. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

“Because,” Anatoly said softly, “I have a brother.”

This was news to me. Fifty million questions flooded my mind. Did he live nearby? Was he still in Russia? Or had they immigrated together to Israel but not to America? But it didn’t seem like the right time to ask.

“So about Leah…” Anatoly prodded.

“Right—Leah.” I thought about the woman who was my sister. I replayed the conversation we had had the afternoon before Bob’s death and then I thought about Brad Thompson. Brad was from Leah’s pre-Bob days and he had been the “love of her life.” She had assured me, our mother and everyone else who would listen that he was going to propose. And then it happened—the breakup. He told her that she was fun to mess around with but not nearly good enough to marry. I sat by her side as she cried into her pillow and listed off all the things she wanted to do to him, his car and his reputation. But when I had suggested that we get some of my male friends to start a fight with him at a bar and rough him up, Leah had been horrified.

“She didn’t do it,” I said slowly.

“Are you sure?”

I smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll admit that I had some fleeting doubts, but I know my sister. She didn’t do it.”

“All right, then. I’m going to do a background check on Bianca. Maybe she’s not as credible as she seems.”

As I watched Anatoly put his helmet on and drive away, I was overcome with relief. Fear had clouded my judgment, but now I was thinking clearly and I knew Leah was innocent. All I had to do was prove it.

I let myself in and was just opening the apartment door when my phone started ringing. I looked down at Mr. Katz, who was watching me expectantly. “I’ll feed you right after I get this,” I assured him before grabbing the phone. “Y’ello?”

“It’s me.”

There was no mistaking the husky voice of my closest and most abrasive friend. “Hey, Dena, what’s up?”

“What’s up? How about the murder of your brother-in-law?”

“Oh, yeah, that.” I went to the kitchen and poured Mr. Katz some kibble then took the phone back into the bedroom with me.

“Jesus, just when I thought things were getting back to normal.”

“Tell me about it.” I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled my boots off and threw them in the general direction of my closet. “At least Leah’s okay.”

“Is she? Did she ever find out if he was screwing around on her?”

When I didn’t answer, Dena groaned. “Shit, do the police know about the affair?”

“Nope.” Mr. Katz wandered into my room and glared at me. Undoubtedly he had seen the bottom of his food bowl.

“Thank God for small favors. Look, I’m with Mary Ann, can we stop by?”

“Sure, I’m not doing anything.”

“Perfect, we’re in the car and about a block from your place, so with any luck we’ll be able to find a parking spot within the next fifteen minutes.”

It would be so nice if Dena was being sarcastic, but fifteen minutes to find parking in my neighborhood was a pretty realistic estimate—assuming she didn’t mind parking four or more city blocks away.

By the time Dena and Mary Ann arrived I had brewed a pot of coffee and was midway through my second cup.

The minute she walked in the door Mary Ann pulled me into a hug. “Sophie, I’m so sorry your family has to go through this.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled into her chestnut-brown curls. I pulled back slowly, careful not to spill the coffee I still held on to her white three-quarter-length sleeve wrap top. It was slightly cropped and exposed a little over an inch of perfectly flat abs.

Dena’s hug was briefer and a little less emotionally charged, but then again, Dena wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type. She walked over to the covered mirror and knitted her thick Sicilian eyebrows. “What’s up with the new wall hangings?”

I grinned and stepped into the kitchen to pour them both a cup of caffeine. “It’s Jewish tradition to cover the mirrors after a family member dies.”

“With sarongs decorated with rainbow-colored salmon?” Dena asked. “Oh, wait, I get it! Lox! The salmon are there to remind us that some things are more enjoyable dead.”

“Dena, that is not funny!” Mary Ann said. But even she couldn’t keep a straight face as Dena and I collapsed into giggles.

“My God, we’re horrible human beings.” I handed a cup of black coffee to Dena and a cup half filled with cream and a few tablespoons’ worth of sugar to Mary Ann.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Dena sat down on my couch and propped her feet up on my coffee table so that the thick heels of her boots stuck out like phallic symbols. “Seriously, though, how could anyone find Bob interesting enough to kill? There’s no way that little bean counter could inspire that kind of passion.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that.” I sat down opposite her on my love seat and Mary Ann quickly took her place by my side. “When Leah told me he was leaving her and Jack for his mistress, who just happens to be twenty-one years old, I entertained some pretty violent thoughts.”

“Yeah, but you’re always entertaining violent thoughts. You write murder mysteries, for Christ sake.”

“That’s not fair,” Mary Ann said. “You don’t have to be a violent person to write about murder. I work at the Lancôme counter and I don’t think about makeup all the time. I’m not even wearing any now.”

I looked at her flawless porcelain complexion and tried to suppress my jealously.

“And I doubt Marcus thinks about hair all the time,” Mary Ann continued, “and you work…” Her voice trailed off.

Dena was the sole proprietor of Guilty Pleasures, an establishment she affectionately referred to as an erotic boutique, and if there was ever a woman who brought her work home with her, it was Dena.

Dena smiled at her cousin mischievously and Mary Ann rolled her eyes. “Not everyone’s you.”

Dena shrugged and ran her fingers through her cropped hair. “Do the police suspect Leah?”

I nodded. “But she didn’t do it.”

“Of course, she didn’t.” Mary Ann used her hand to make little soothing circles on my back. “Anyone who’s ever met Leah would know she’s not capable of hurting anyone. The poor thing must be devastated by all this.”

“She’s not at her best,” I admitted.

“Is there anything I can do?” Mary Ann asked.

“No—wait, that’s not true.” I shifted my position so I was facing her. “Leah wants to make sure her mourning attire is appropriate in a W magazine kind of way.”

Mary Ann nodded encouragingly. “There are a few recently widowed women who I work on at Neiman. Of course I only do their makeup, but I always take note of what they’re wearing.”

“Jesus, is fashion really Leah’s biggest concern?” Dena asked. “What about her kid?”

“Trust me, Jack is always a concern.” I took a long sip of my drink. “In fact, she and Jack will be staying with me for the next few days.”

Mary Ann gasped and Dena’s tan complexion got almost as white as her cousin’s.

I ran a jagged fingernail around the rim of my mug. “It’s not as bad as all that. I can deal with Jack.”

“Of course you can,” Mary Ann said. “You do still have rental insurance, right?”

“And smoke detectors,” Dena chimed in. “You’re going to need lots of smoke detectors.”

“He’s eighteen months old. He’s not going to be setting fire to the apartment.” I glanced nervously at the smoke detector in the living room. When was the last time I checked the battery on that thing?

I heard the sound of a key jiggling in the lock and then Leah burst in with Jack in her arms. Despite my concerns I felt a little tug at my heart. Cuddled up against his mother Jack looked like a little cherub. If he didn’t have the temperament of a Tasmanian devil he’d be irresistible.

“Have you listened to the radio?” she asked, skipping the formality of a greeting.

“Not today but—”

“There was this woman on the air and she was talking about me!” Jack squirmed in her arms and she placed him on the ground. “She was talking about how my new status as a suspect is a perfect example of how underprivileged women of color still have to struggle to be seen as contributing citizens rather than potential criminals. Underprivileged, Sophie! I have never been less than upper middle class in my life, and this woman has me sounding like some kind of black, blue-collar soccer mom!”

Dena put her cola can on the coffee table. “I don’t think she was trying to make you look like a soccer mom…welfare mom, maybe.”

“This is all Cheryl’s fault!”

“Ah.” I brought my fingers to my temples. “So you know about her comments to Channel Two.”

“Yes, I know! And the sad part is I don’t even think she’s a racist. She just knew this was her one and only chance at grabbing her fifteen minutes of fame. After all, it’s not like she could ever make it as an actress. The senior citizen who fell and couldn’t get back up was a better thespian than she is. Cheryl’s only talent is making other people’s lives miserable. That and her obnoxious ability to quote from Entertainment Weekly.”

Mary Ann blinked. “I’ve never met Cheryl. Is she into celebrities?”

“Oh, she’s way beyond that,” Leah said. “They need to make up a new word for what Cheryl is.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. I don’t think there’s an E! Television show that she hasn’t seen or an Us magazine she hasn’t read five times over,” Leah explained.

“That’s why she got a job at Hotel Gatsby. She read some article about how Gatsby hotels are always filled with young A-list celebrities, so when they opened one in San Francisco she rushed over and strong-armed some unwitting HR girl into letting her work the front desk.”

Dena rolled her head toward her right shoulder in an effort to stretch her neck. “I thought Cheryl worked at the Ritz.”

“She did, but that didn’t stop her from accepting a few graveyard shifts at Gatsby,” Leah said. “Never mind the fact that the Ritz has a policy against working at another hotel while working for them. The management at the Ritz just found out last week and terminated her employment.” Leah allowed herself a brief moment of smug satisfaction before continuing her tirade. “I suppose she’ll go to full-time at the Gatsby now. But it gives you an idea of what kind of woman she is. I mean really, what kind of person is that disrespectful of the Ritz-Carlton?”

Jack toddled over to Mary Ann and she bent over to kiss him on the forehead, then quickly withdrew her head as she caught a whiff of his current odor. “Oh,” she said in a nasal voice that implied that she was holding her breath. “Does he have a poopy diaper?”

“Of course he has a poopy diaper. Do you think my son smells like this all the time?”

Leah strode forward and reached for Jack, but Mary Ann picked him up before she had a chance. “You seem a little stressed,” Mary Ann said, blatantly understating the situation. “Why don’t you sit down and relax and I’ll change Jack.”

“You’d do that?” Leah’s expression softened.

“Of course. You’ve been through so much. This is the least I can do.”

“Thank you.” Leah’s mouth relaxed into a genuine smile. “I’m sorry I snapped, but I’m just at the end of my rope.”

“Any of us would be,” Mary Ann said reassuringly.

Jack pointed to Mr. Katz, who was busy grooming himself. “Kitty lick.”

“Yes, that’s what cats do when they’re dirty,” Mary Ann explained as she carried him down the hall. “I guess you both need a little cleaning.”

Leah waited until Mary Ann had disappeared into the bathroom before turning her attention to Dena. “I haven’t seen you for a while,” she said coolly. “Sophie tells me you’re dating a vampire.”

“He’s not a vampire,” Dena said with a yawn. “He just wants to become one. Anyway, I broke up with him last week.”

“What?” I scooted forward. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s no biggie. He was getting a little too…” Dena waved her hand in the air as if trying to physically grab the word that was eluding her.

“Intense?” I volunteered.

“Insane?” Leah pitched in.

“Conventional,” Dena finished. “When I first met him he was so dark and mysterious, but then he got a job at the Gap and it was bye-bye gothic, hello ‘Songs by Your Favorite Artists.’”

Leah shook her head. “Do you ever get tired of being a freak?”

“I beg your pardon.” Dena raised herself to her full five feet two inches of height. “And the term is super freak.” She turned to me. “I’ve got to check in with the shop.”

“I left the phone on my bedside table.”

Dena nodded and disappeared down the hall.

“So,” I said, turning back to Leah, “you’re having a bad day.”

“A bad day?” Leah collapsed onto a chair by the dining table. “My husband was shot yesterday!”

“Yes, I know.” And it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

“You know, the cruelest thing I ever did to Bob was serve him a cold dinner. And now Cheryl’s accusing me of shooting him?”

“Like you said, she’s just trying to grab her fifteen minutes.” I could hear Jack screaming in the guest room. I eyed Leah to see if she was going to help Mary Ann out, but she stayed glued to her seat.

“I guarantee you Bob never told Cheryl about our marriage problems.” Leah’s eyes narrowed as she looked out into space. “The two of them were hardly on speaking terms! And now she runs out and gets herself a pink hankie and starts comparing me to OJ? Is she joking?”

“Let’s focus on what we can control,” I said. Jack was still screaming in the background and now I could hear Mary Ann’s pleas for cooperation. Clearly Jack wasn’t one of our controllables. “I found some stuff out today that you should know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, for one thing I…well, I spoke to Bob’s mistress.”

Leah flinched but didn’t say anything.

“She says that Bob almost left you nine months ago. She implied that you and Bob actually talked about it.”

“She’s lying.”

“So he never said anything at all?”

“You would take the word of a whore over mine?”

I sighed and started massaging my temples in earnest. “You know, it would be so much simpler if she were a whore, but after meeting her I don’t think that title really fits.”

“Really? How would you describe the woman who was sleeping with my husband?”

“I’d describe her as a wide-eyed innocent who bought Bob’s BS hook, line and sinker.”

Leah pressed her lips together.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you that she was some kind of siren whose unearthly song led Bob to the rocks. Although, I’m not a hundred-percent sure she isn’t the one who killed him, if that makes you feel any better.”

Leah shrugged peevishly. “A little.”

I smiled, glad to be able to deliver at least some good news. A fresh-smelling Jack toddled into the living room followed by a somewhat haggard-looking Mary Ann. Leave it to my nephew to break someone’s spirit with one diaper change.

Leah smiled at Mary Ann and pulled out a chair for her, which Mary Ann immediately dropped into. “Thank you so much for doing that.”

“It was no problem,” Mary Ann lied. Mr. Katz stretched his legs and wandered out of the room. Jack went after him, keeping a cautious distance. Leah started to get up to follow him but Mary Ann’s words stopped her. “Sophie tells me you have some fashion questions.”

“Yes,” Leah said urgently. “I need to know what widows are supposed to wear.”

Mary Ann reached out and patted her hand. “The key to the look is earth tones.”

“Earth tones.” By the awe in Leah’s voice you would have thought Mary Ann had just spoken the true name of God.

“Hey, Sophie.”

I looked up to see Dena standing just outside of the kitchen.

“Is it okay for Jack to be getting into the cabinet beneath the sink?”

“Oh, my God!” I yelled.

Leah and I ran into the kitchen, pushing Dena aside just as Jack grabbed the Clorox scrub and dumped it onto Mr. Katz. Jack looked up at Leah with pride in his eyes. “Dirty cat.”

Leah scooped up Jack and I raced after Mr. Katz, who almost sent Mary Ann sprawling as he tried to pass her in the hall. I lunged for him and managed to throw him in the bathtub as he ran his claws down my arm. While I turned on the shower, Mr. Katz hissed and desperately tried to escape. I managed to rinse off the cleaning solution just as Mr. Katz punished me with a particularly painful scratch across the back of my wrist. He jumped out of the bathtub and darted out of the room. I looked up to see my three guests standing in the doorway.

“I know this might be an inopportune moment to bring this up,” Leah said slowly, “but is anyone else impressed that my son made the connection between Mary Ann’s statement that the cat was dirty and Clorox? It really is an amazing mental leap for an eighteen-month-old.”

I pressed my hands against my wounds. The only leap I wanted Jack to make was into a playpen for the rest of the night. “You’re right, Leah, the moment’s definitely inopportune.”

Leah handed Jack to Mary Ann, who took him with no little trepidation. “Let me see your arms.” Leah peered at them and then pulled some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol out of my medicine cabinet. She sat down next to me on the edge of the bathtub and held my arms under the running faucet before patting them dry and applying the alcohol. “Spare me the dramatics,” she said as I gasped in pain.

I narrowed my eyes. “This from the girl who was voted ‘most likely to overreact’ in high school?”

“I’ve changed.” She tossed the used cotton balls in the wastebasket. “Besides, you don’t know what pain is until you’ve—”

“If you finish that sentence with ‘given birth,’ I’m going to have to punch you,” Dena said flatly.

Leah glared at her. “It’s true. Not that you would know anything about childbirth or anything else that involved any kind of commitment.”

“I’m plenty committed. I’m committed to my friends, my career, and I’m very committed to my quest to help the women of San Francisco find their G-spot.”

Mary Ann sighed disapprovingly and took Jack out of the room before Dena could inadvertently corrupt him.