by Arlene Kay
Deming turned his head to avoid openly gloating. “My wife and I have discussed this, Lieutenant. I plan to oversee things as her attorney and bodyguard.” He and Keegan exchanged self-congratulatory smirks. “As for my mother, she and Eja are a team. Restrain one, and you stop the other.”
Suddenly I longed for a dram of whiskey, something I could swallow for emphasis. Pellegrino just didn`t cut it with these two bruisers. Time for Eja Kane, mistress of the sharp pen and snappy comeback, to assert herself.
“Listen up, you evolutionary dropouts. I am a professional writing a book, not some starstruck thrill-seeker.” I gave both of them the evil eye. “Now, what was it you came for, Lieutenant?”
Keegan gave me the blue-eyed stare. “What`s your take on that book? Truth or fiction?”
I shrugged. “A bit of both, I would assume. Sonia enjoyed toying with people, men mostly. I know for sure she and Dr. Mann had an encounter. She told me so herself.”
“What about the others?” Keegan’s eyes had a predatory gleam. “This Arthur character had to be Fess Paskert, and the oddball was that Sorrel fellow.”
“Oddball?” Deming asked.
Keegan flushed. “Well, you know, Mr. Swann, that a man who doesn`t or can`t . . . it`s not natural.”
He was a master of understatement, but something triggered a thought. Maybe Sorrel found release with the FetLife community. After all, those kinky kids devised very imaginative ways of satisfying themselves. I made a mental check mark next to Sorrel’s name. Tomorrow Anika and I would tackle him, figuratively, of course.
“Actually, I wanted your help with the women,” Keegan said. “That Bella Brigade and COWE crowd. Believe it or not, they act almost hostile around me.”
I lowered my eyes to avoid snorting. My money was firmly on the ladies in those exchanges. Keegan would push every one of Zarina’s buttons just by being himself. It wasn`t a male vs. female thing either. I knew for a fact she liked some men since I slept with one of her fantasies every night. I giggled, thinking of elegant Deming Swann as a boy-toy.
“Deming made inroads with their leader. Zarina. Maybe he can help you.” I beamed my sweetest smile at my husband.
“Yeah?” Keegan said. “No kidding. How about it, Mr. Swann? Any impressions?”
Deming went into cautious lawyer mode. “Let me think. I only spoke with her twice. She certainly wasn`t shy, and she was no fan of Sonia’s. But as to motive, I doubt it.”
I should have stayed silent, but I couldn`t resist. “Zarina’s objections are mostly philosophical. She accused me of writing sexist trash, so I know that for a fact. I don`t think she bought into Sonia’s lookism crusade either, not from someone as gorgeous as Sonia. Zarina agrees with the principles though. They`re straight from the COWE playbook.”
“I suppose you`ve met most of them,” Keegan said. “Any thoughts?”
I ignored Deming’s signals and plunged ahead. This was my opportunity to connect with Keegan and establish a bond. Lawyers—so cautious!
“I have a thought or two,” I said. “Getting a handle on Duff Ryder is tough. She`s quite the mystery woman, yet I think she`s the key to the whole thing. Everyone saw a different side of her. Was she the adoring acolyte, scheming huckster, or a little bit of both? I think Sonia knew her best.”
Keegan hunched forward. “And . . .?”
I shrugged. “According to Sonia, Duff was eager and willing to profit from the book. That ten percent meant something to her. Revenge, validation, who knows?”
Deming reached into a silver box for an e-cigarette and offered one to Keegan.
“Ugh!” I said. “You should be ashamed. Both of you.”
“It`s a V2,” Deming told Keegan. “The very best. Try one.”
Keegan seemed fascinated by the damned things. “I`ve heard about these but never tried one,” he said. “Took me forever to quit regular smokes.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Why tamper with success? Now, can we please get back to our case?”
That was a blunder. I knew it immediately when Deming reared back in his seat and Keegan breathed fire.
“Whoa. Wait one minute, Ms. Kane. There is no our case. This is a police matter. I merely asked for your assessment as a private citizen. Nothing more.”
Deming chimed in. “Listen to the man, Eja.”
“We`re dealing with a ruthless killer here.” Keegan twisted his mouth to one side, doing a third-rate Philip Marlowe imitation that failed miserably. “Sonia Reyes didn`t die from that head wound.”
“Really?” Both Deming and I gasped as one.
“According to the medical examiner, Ms. Reyes was smothered. Some kind of downy substance was found in her airways. Her face showed signs of cyanosis too. Not pretty.”
Deming furrowed his brow. “That clinches things, doesn`t it? Her killer must have been a man. Smothering takes strength, and you can bet that Sonia would fight like the devil.”
“Normally I`d have to agree, but in this case she may have been unconscious or stunned by that head injury. A woman could have finished the job just as easily.”
I shuddered as I recalled the shiny satin pillow with the initial S embroidered on it. Sonia liked her comfort, and that pillow had eased her back pain. How ironic if it had also hastened her death.
“That does it,” Deming said. “We`re off the case. I refuse to risk the lives of my wife and my mother.”
“Oh, for heaven`s sake, calm down. We`ve got two murders and at least six viable suspects. Worm suggests several motives from sexual jealousy to professional ruin. If I can help you I will.” This time I gave Keegan a cold stare. “Naturally, I expect first crack at the evidence. Other writers will be sniffing around the case soon enough.”
Keegan emptied his glass and stood. “You know the rules as well as I do. Until an arrest is made, you get nothing. Nothing official, that is. Your role—if you agree to it—is to find things I can`t. Reactions, conversations, anything that would lead to the murderer.”
Deming clamped down on that faux cigarette. “Hold on. I don`t want my wife in danger.”
I barely heard the conversation. Keegan’s proposal was enticing, something my favorite amateur sleuths would applaud. It was an inroad—a tiny crevice in the wall of silence.
I couldn`t wait to tell Anika!
Chapter Sixteen
SORREL YEAGAN MET us at his office the next day. To my surprise, it was located on Newbury Street, just steps from the Taj Hotel.
“I`ve heard about these arrangements before,” Anika said, “but haven`t actually seen one. Shared office space. It`s the newest trend.”
As usual, I was clueless about the situation—too many hours hunkered down with Cato and my computer. I made a silent vow to get out more and join the real world.
We took the elevator to the third floor and a door marked “Oficio,” where Sorrel stood waiting for us.
“Welcome, ladies,” he said. “We`ll use the conference room.”
There was warmth and graciousness in his manner, nothing presumptuous or inappropriate. Gentility was the best descriptor. I thought back to Worm once more and the character Gawain, protector of womanhood. Sonia had that one nailed.
“Does this arrangement work for you?” Anika asked. “It`s very nice.”
Sorrel nodded. “I`m mostly out of the office, so this is perfect. Agents and business managers are an endangered species, as you know. Cutting corners helps a bit.” His smile was disarming, a gateway to the inner man.
I focused on his eyes. They were deep pools of sadness, reflecting an incalculable loss. Anika said he had loved Sonia and as usual, she was right.
“I`m so sorry about Sonia,” I said. “And Duff too, of course. I plan to write the book Sonia and I discussed, and I need your help. You knew her better than anyone.”
>
He laughed. “Only Sonia fully understood Sonia, but I loved her. She knew I would do anything she asked. Anything. I`ll help you any way I can to tell her story.”
Anika reached across the table and patted his hand. “We`ve both read her novel. Lots of secrets buried there.”
Sorrel shook his head. “Not really. Sonia was quite fearless, you know. Death threats meant nothing to her. All she cared about was that damned book and winning of course. Sonia always played to win.” He swallowed. “Look what it got her.”
“The cops think Duff’s murder was a misfire and that Sonia was targeted all along. Do you agree?”
A storm cloud skidded across his face, masking his feelings. Sorrel quickly recovered, replacing gloom with a practiced smile. He thrust both hands into his pockets and met my eyes.
“Duff’s death will probably never be solved,” he said. “That secret died with her and Sonia. It`s hard to imagine anyone wanting to kill Duff though. She was a good kid.”
Anika edged into the conversation. “We`ve heard so many different takes on Duff. In some ways, she seemed like a wily young woman.”
“That`s true of most of us, Mrs. Swann. Personally, I find complex people the most intriguing.” Sorrel turned toward Anika. “You, for instance.”
Anika returned his gaze without flinching. “Really?”
“Most people—especially men—get lost in your beauty and charm. That incisive mind of yours just sneaks up on them.”
Very few strangers ever figured Anika out. Score one for Sorrel!
“Was Sonia an enigma too?” I asked him.
He paused, giving me another glimpse of those soulful eyes. “She was a beautiful, willful child determined to have her way. Her parents spoiled her, indulged her every whim. I did the same. I was close to them, you see. When they passed, I became her guardian.”
“Guardian!” I squeaked.
“Just until she gained her majority, of course. I was ten years her senior, more like an older brother or an uncle.” He knitted his fingers together. “And of course I loved her. Deeply, passionately. More than any of her lovers ever could. I managed her finances, dispensed advice, and watched over her.”
“What happens if you find her murderer?” Anika asked. “Will you kill him?”
Sorrel blinked before answering her. “You understand more than most people, don`t you, after losing your daughter.”
“Yes,” Anika said.
“The man who killed her won`t survive. I guarantee that.”
“You keep saying man. Several women fit the bill too,” I said. “Not that it should make any difference.”
He threw his head back and laughed, a rich masculine sound that filled the conference space. “Sonia would catch me out on that too. Hoist on my own sexist petard.”
“Was she afraid of anyone?” Anika asked. “Nervous about those threats?”
He shook his head. “The last time I saw her she was happy. Talking about some ace up her sleeve. Ready to take on the University if they passed her over.”
“Then she really meant to publish Worm?”
“Oh, yes. You`re an author, Ms. Kane. What did you think of the book?”
I chose my words with care. “Steamy to be sure. That FetLife business would certainly raise a few eyebrows even among the literati. Some of the more intense passages could have been reined in or at least pruned, but the writing was good. Beautiful imagery and well-developed characters.”
Sorrel sighed. “Glad you think so. I value your opinion, and that book is all I have left of her. I think of it as Sonia’s legacy.” His eyes sparkled as he faced us. “Sonia was adventurous, a true pleasure seeker. She embraced anything that promised a thrill.”
“And you?” Anika asked.
His response was painfully simple. “I valued anything that drew us closer, no matter what the consequences.”
“I understand that Duff’s share of the royalties will revert to Nadia Pinsky,” I said.
“Who?” Sorrel sounded genuinely puzzled. “That`s unlikely. Our contract specified that if Duff was unable or unwilling to perform her duties, all rights reverted to Sonia and me.” He shrugged. “That`s a fairly standard clause in these types of situations. Check with your husband if you care to. I plan to donate the proceeds in her honor to the Bella Brigade or COWE.”
News to me and even bigger news to the impecunious Nadia. Her big plans would vanish when she got the word. Sorrel was right about one thing though. I still planned to validate the whole thing with Deming. He excels at all tasks lawyerly and more than a few things that are not.
“Sonia had a big personality,” Anika mused. “That can arouse jealousy.”
“She could handle adversity, Mrs. Swann. Better than most, believe me. You recall Poe`s ‘Cask of Amontillado,’ I`m sure.”
We both nodded.
“Sonia and I used to laugh about that. ‘Nemo me impune lacessit’ could well have been her family motto also.” He leaned forward. “Trust me, no one, and I mean no one, messed with Sonia. She went very Old Testament on them if they did. Eye for an eye and all that stuff. Even small matters like academic disputes were apostasy in her eyes.”
I flashed back to a scene at Noir Bar in the Charles Hotel. Sonia went ballistic just thinking about Gabriel and the way he had mocked her. If his mummified remains had surfaced in someone`s wine cellar, finding the culprit would have been easy. The task was much more difficult when two young women were the victims.
Sorrel glanced at his watch and shifted slightly in his seat. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Just one thing,” I said. “Sonia and Melanie Hunt were natural enemies, but apparently they formed some kind of alliance. What was that all about?”
“Exigent circumstances. You know, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ Both ladies were very strategic. Nailing Gabriel Mann became their primary goal despite my feelings to the contrary.” Sorrel turned toward me. “Pardon me, Ms. Kane, but he really is a bounder.”
Before I could stop myself, I laughed. Actually I chortled, loudly, merrily. “Don`t worry about me, Sorrel. Besides, bounder is one of my favorite words. All those classic Brit mysteries use it. I`ve said far harsher things about Dr. Mann.”
“Thank you for speaking with us,” Anika said. “It must be painful for you.”
“To the contrary,” Sorrel said. “Speaking about her lifted my spirits. She`s very alive to me. Always will be.” He hesitated at the door. “One favor if I may ask it. I am hosting a small reception at my home in Sonia’s honor, just an informal gathering of friends to celebrate her life and accomplishments. I`d be honored if you would attend. With your husbands, of course.” He averted his eyes as if anticipating a rejection.
Anika touched his hand. “Of course we`ll attend. Sonia deserves the recognition.”
I nodded like a spinning top and followed Anika out the door.
Sorrel’s smile transformed his plain face until he looked almost attractive. “I`ll text you the details,” he said. “Thank you for caring.”
I couldn`t decide if Sorrel Yeagan’s manner was touching or creepy. Anika was touched, but I held out for door number two.
“Sonia was so beautiful,” I said. “It`s revolting to even think of that old man touching her.”
Anika patted my shoulder. “Sorrel is younger than Bolin, you know.”
“Yeah, but Bolin is gorgeous. Who wouldn`t want to touch him?” The moment I said that I cringed.
“I know dear, don`t worry. Bolin and Dem are very special men.” Anika tossed back her head. “But then again, you and I are quite extraordinary too.”
A CRYPTIC MESSAGE awaited me when I got home. “Put on your best duds tonight,” it said, “and for crying out loud, remember your cell phone for a change. Th
is is the twenty-first century, Eja. You need custodial care.”
Nice talk from the man who promised to love and cherish me, even if those snarky comments were true! My “best duds” were a matter of debate, but I settled on the one hue favored by sophisticates and fashion cowards everywhere—basic black.
By the time Deming strode through the doorway, evaded Cato, and kissed my forehead, I was prepared for adventure. He held me at arm’s length, surveying the results.
“Beautiful. Very soignée, if I do say so. Just the right touch of jewelry.”
“Zip me up, will you?”
He made a production of it, rubbing his finger slowly up and down my spine until I shivered. Strands of my chignon went rogue after Deming gently brushed his lips along my neck. Just when I lost all sense of time, he checked his watch and jumped to attention.
“Whoops! I have just enough time to shower and change. Make me a snack, will you, darling?”
“I can`t. Custodial care and all that.” I curled my lip ever so slightly.
Deming laughed. “Pouting makes you even sexier, you know. Anyhow, you`ll enjoy tonight. Guaranteed. A true test of your detective skills.”
I resisted the temptation to beg for crumbs. It was a little game we played called manipulation and control, a contest of wills that I usually won.
After he left for the shower, I grabbed a cheese plate and searched Google for events in Boston. Unfortunately, the list was too numerous to be of much use, and when Deming returned I admitted defeat.
“Here we go, Master,” I said, handing him his snack. “Now, where are we headed?”
Even now, his smile did something magical to my heartstrings. No doubt about it, Deming was a total babe. I forced myself to remain strong. After all, I was a wife, not a sex slave. There were union rules about that.
“There`s an exhibit and fundraiser at the Athenaeum tonight, and a prominent member of the Concord University faculty will be master of ceremonies.”
