Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights

by Kyra Davis

  I stood up a little straighter. “What? Did he hurt you?” My bloodlust was definitely back. I was going to kill him. Actually, I’d do better than that. In my next book I’d castrate a philandering husband named Bobby by rigging his inflatable sex doll with explosives.

  “No, no, he didn’t hurt me. He can’t. Oh God, Sophie… Oh God, he’s dead! Bob is dead!”

  My eyes traveled to the depleted bottle of vodka on the counter. “I’m sorry, Leah, but I think I must have misunderstood you—”

  “He’s dead! D–E–A–D. BOB IS DEAD!”

  “You mean like dead dead?”

  “How many kinds of dead are there?”

  “I’m not getting this.” I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. “Bob is only five years older than I am. Thirty-five is a little young for—”

  “I think he was shot or something.”

  “Shot or something?”

  “I think so. I don’t know. He’s just lying there and there’s all this blood coming out of his head. Sophie, what do I do?”

  Well, I wasn’t sure about her but what I wanted to do was throw up. “Leah, how exactly did Bob get ‘shot or something’? Who shot him?”

  “How in God’s name would I know? I just came home and found him in the middle of the living room with a hole in his head! And our pictures, the framed wedding pictures that were in the room, they’re all smashed up. No one even bothered to clean up the glass! What if Jack had come home with me and cut himself?”

  Excuse me? I lowered myself into a chair and tried to figure out if Leah’s instincts proved her to be Mother of the Year or just stark raving mad.

  “Sophie, are you still there? What am I supposed to do?”

  “I’m here.” Big sisters taught their younger siblings how to straighten their hair and apply their makeup. They did not instruct them on how to behave at a murder scene. “Leah, I honestly don’t know. What do the police say?”

  “The police? I don’t know, they’re not here. Do you think they’re coming?”

  “Didn’t they say they were coming?”

  “No, no, I haven’t called them yet…. I called you. Oh, Sophie, he’s really dead! I mean really, really…”

  I couldn’t hear Leah anymore, nor was I suffering the effects of the alcohol. All I could feel was the beginning of a panic attack. I took a deep breath and tried to make my voice slow, steady and clear. “Leah, I need you to hang up the phone right now and call the police.”

  I could make out Leah’s quiet sobs on the other end of the line. “Leah, this is really important. I’m coming over but I need you to call them right now.”

  She made some kind of weak affirmative noise. I hung up and for a few moments I couldn’t get myself to move. This was very bad. Hours after Bob had informed Leah that he was leaving her, he had transformed into a bloody corpse, and the phone records would show that the first number Leah dialed after discovering his body was not 911, but mine.

  I looked down at Mr. Katz who had wrapped himself around my foot. “What now?”

  My first stop was not Leah’s but Anatoly’s. I double parked in front of his building, ran up to the stoop and stood methodically tapping the buzzer until he relented and came down. He threw open the glass door and glared at me.

  “Get your finger off the button, now.”

  “Anatoly, I need help.”

  “I’m not a psychiatrist.”

  “Not that kind of help—” I took a moment to turn and acknowledge a driver yelling obscenities as he maneuvered around my illegally parked Audi “—although that should probably be my next stop. I’m here because Leah’s in trouble.”

  “Leah’s made her choice, and you’re going to have to deal with that. Who knows—maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll end the affair.”

  “The affair’s pretty much a nonissue now, unless of course his mistress is into necrophilia.”

  Anatoly’s lower jaw seemed to detach from his head. “She killed him? What the hell is wrong with you people? Doesn’t anyone in your family understand that vigilante justice is wrong?”

  “She didn’t do it.” As soon as I said the words I realized my voice lacked the conviction to make them believable. I cleared my throat and forced myself to look Anatoly in the eye. “My sister did not shoot her husband. She loved him. Yes, they were having problems, but she was fully confident that they would work through them.”

  Anatoly’s forehead creased and he leaned against the door frame. “What is this? Rehearsal for when you have to talk to the police?”

  “Why? Didn’t I sound convincing?”

  “That’s it. We’re done here. Goodbye, Sophie.”

  I put my foot in the path of the door, inadvertently bringing myself closer to Anatoly. I could feel his breath in my hair and, despite his harsh words, I could see the twinkle of interest ignite in his eyes as he noted my new proximity. His mouth curved into a little half smile. I know that people often find themselves craving sex after a funeral but it probably isn’t healthy to be overcome with lust right after a family member has been shot. I distracted myself by looking at his feet. I’ve never been into feet no matter how big they are.

  “Anatoly, I’m here to hire you. I was going to pay you six thousand dollars to find out if Bob was messing around. Now I’m offering you…ten. Ten grand to find out who messed with him.”

  “It’s not about the money, Sophie.”

  “What if I raise it to twelve? Then can it be about the money?”

  He was silent for a bit and I kept my eyes glued to his boots. My friend Marcus always says that if a man’s shoes match his belt it means he’s gay. Anatoly must be the straightest man alive because his shoes never match anything. They are always ugly and—

  “If you hire me I might uncover information that you don’t want to know.”

  The statement was loaded with enough reality to quiet my raging hormones. I refocused on his face. “Then I’ll fire you.”

  Anatoly snorted and looked out to the street. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

  “Great!” I pulled my keys out of my pocket and dangled them in front of him. “Get your coat and get in the car. I’ll fill you in on the details on the way.”

  “I didn’t say I would take the case.”

  “But you were about to. Come on, no more banter. The police are arriving at the scene as we speak.”

  Anatoly shook his head in defeat. “I’m going upstairs to get some things. Wait for me in the car.” He retreated into the building and I ran to my car. I snapped on my seat belt and put my hand on the gearshift, ready to press it into first the minute his cute butt hit the seat. Anatoly was obviously less anxious. He strolled out wearing a generously cut leather coat and no other visible accessories. Maybe he had all his James Bond–like spy stuff hidden in his inside pockets.

  Instead of taking his place in the passenger seat he came around to the driver’s side and opened my door. “Move over, I’m driving.”

  “It’s my car.”

  Anatoly bent down so that he was at eye level. “After your sister left your apartment, what did you do?”

  “I watched some TV.”

  “Right. Did you have any snacks while you were watching?”

  “What would I snack on?”

  “Vodka.”

  “Vodka’s a good snack. Easy to prepare, light on calories…”

  Anatoly smiled. “I’m driving.”

  I gripped the wheel possessively. “Anatoly, you can’t possibly think I’m drunk.”

  “No, I think your blood alcohol level is hovering around .08 but since we’re going to a place that we know will be crawling with cops it would be best if we don’t test fate.”

  I grunted in disgust but relinquished my seat to him. “You think you know me so well.”

  Anatoly positioned himself behind the wheel and adjusted the rearview mirror. “I guessed correctly, didn’t I?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe you were playing PI in the apartment a
cross the street, spying with a telescopic lens.”

  “I don’t have to play PI, I am one.” He started the ignition and turned off the radio. “And I also have a life. Which way?”

  “We’re going to Forest Hill. You know how to get to that neighborhood?”

  Apparently he did, because he turned the car in the appropriate direction. I spent the first half of the drive giving him what little information I had. He listened, only interrupting occasionally to ask a question that I inevitably didn’t have an answer to. When I finished, the conversation lulled and I focused on the cars and street lamps we sped past. I hated to admit it to myself but I was pleased that he had insisted on driving. I consider myself to be a pretty independent person but in times of extreme crisis it was nice to have someone around who wanted to take control. That didn’t mean I was going to give him control, but I could take some comfort in knowing that it was an option.

  As we got closer I broke the silence in order to direct him but I didn’t need to give him the exact address. Once we were within a block of the house all the flashing lights and uniformed officers served as a pretty clear indicator of where we were going. Anatoly parked several houses away and pulled the keys out without making any move to get out of the car. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you again, Sophie. Are you sure you want me to investigate this?”

  I should have been flattered by the note of concern in his voice, but its implication frightened me. I shook my head violently in an attempt to shake off the dark thoughts that were creeping in. “She’s innocent, and yes, I want you to investigate.”

  We stared at each other for a beat. Finally, in what seemed to be slow motion, our hands simultaneously reached for our respective door handles and we got out and approached the crime scene.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Life is like a never ending play,” he said between drags on his cigarette. “We all have roles to perform and there’s always some critic insisting we’ve been miscast.”

  —Words To Die By

  We hadn’t gotten very far before we were headed off by a particularly butch policewoman who used her hand as a barrier. “Sorry, no one’s allowed beyond this point.”

  “My sister’s in there,” I argued. “This is her house.”

  The woman was completely unmoved. “You’ll see her later.”

  “Well, if it isn’t Sophie Katz and her victim—er—friend, Anatoly Darinsky.”

  I looked up to see the tall, lean form of Detective Lorenzo. His eyes narrowed as they met mine. He had let his black curls grow out since the last time I had seen him, which made him look younger, if not nicer. I felt the muscles in my neck tighten.

  “You’re the detective handling this case?” I asked.

  “One of them.”

  “I think there’s a conflict of interest here. You hate me and you’ve been sent to investigate my brother-in-law’s murder. It doesn’t seem reasonable to expect you to remain objective.”

  Anatoly put his hand on my shoulder in what must have appeared to others to be a supportive gesture. Only I knew that there would be permanent indentation marks where his fingers were digging into my flesh.

  “What exactly do you want me to be objective about?” Lorenzo asked. “And how do you know your brother-in-law was murdered?”

  Anatoly loosened his grip, but not enough to eliminate all the discomfort. I’m not sure what he thought he was accomplishing. Obviously what I needed was to be smacked upside the head.

  I took a deep breath and soldiered forward. “Leah called me a little while ago, distraught. She told me she had…found him.”

  “Do you know if this was before or after she called us?”

  “I…don’t know. I didn’t think to ask. She loved him so much…. I’m really very worried about her—can I see her?”

  “Just a few more questions.” Lorenzo pulled out a pocket notebook and pen. “Did she tell you how he was killed?”

  “She wasn’t sure. She said there was a lot of blood and it seemed to be coming from his head.”

  “She called and told you there was blood coming out of her husband’s head,” he said flatly.

  “Mmm, I think that was it. It wasn’t all that clear…you know, with all the crying and all.”

  “And the first thing you did was go out and hire a private detective? Any particular reason for that?”

  Anatoly slid his hand down to my waist. “I was with Sophie when Leah called. We’ve become…close. I wanted to be here for her and her family.”

  He pulled me tight against his side and I could feel his body heat radiating through his jacket. I reached my arm out to return his squeeze, somehow managing to “accidentally” brush it against his butt in the process.

  “Right.” Lorenzo made another note.

  I’m not very good at reading upside down but I think I could make out the word dysfunctional.

  “When was the last time you saw Leah?”

  “This afternoon,” I said. “She was on her way to see a friend…not sure who. Anyway, she stopped by to say hi.”

  Lorenzo made another little note. “Did she say anything else?”

  “It was just a basic conversation between sisters. She asked how I was, inquired about my next book, and then told me to stop talking to my cat and find a human companion to date and converse with.”

  The detective glanced up at Anatoly. “She doesn’t consider Mr. Darinsky here to be human?”

  “Well, Anatoly has a lot of apelike qualities, so it can be confusing.”

  Anatoly removed his arm.

  “How was her marriage?” Lorenzo said.

  “Spectacular.”

  “Spectacular?”

  “Mmm-hmm. He brought home a paycheck and left her alone,” I explained. “A woman couldn’t ask for more.”

  Anatoly made a noise of disapproval.

  “That isn’t very liberated of you,” Lorenzo noted.

  “Don’t get me wrong, she loved the time they did spend together, but Leah had a life of her own. She adored Bob because he gave her the space she needed to maintain her individuality while still supporting her. And he always made time to take her out on the occasional date or family outing with their son. I mean really, how much more liberated can you get?” It was also complete bullshit. I pretended to search my purse for a tissue so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with either of my current male companions. Hopefully the picture I had painted of Leah would make her seem like the kind of gal who wouldn’t get all homicidal if she discovered her husband was messing around with some collegeaged slut.

  “Sophie!”

  I looked up just in time to see Leah hurl herself in my direction. She flung her arms over my shoulders and tucked her tear-stained face into the crook of my neck. “Oh, how can this be happening to me?”

  Lorenzo looked more irritated than sympathetic, but he did have the courtesy to put the notebook away. “It’s going to take a while for us to finish searching the house and dusting it for prints. Why don’t you come down to the station with us, Mrs. Miller? We can finish up the questions, and if your sister here would like to follow us she can give you a ride when we’re done.”

  “Do you expect to be finished with the house by the time Leah’s through with questioning?” Anatoly asked.

  “Not likely. I’m sure you understand the necessity of being thorough,” Lorenzo said, directing his comments to Leah.

  Leah nodded numbly, and Anatoly took a step closer to her. “We’ll take Leah to the station.”

  Lorenzo paused and studied Anatoly for a moment. “It might be more efficient if she rode with me or one of the other detectives. That way we could ask her some questions on the way over.”

  “She’s been through enough without being forced to ride in a police car like some kind of criminal,” Anatoly said firmly.

  My eyes traveled from Anatoly to Lorenzo. It was a no-brainer that Anatoly wanted to coach Leah on what to say before she answered any more questions, and it was equally ob
vious that Lorenzo would do whatever he could to prevent that from happening.

  Lorenzo smiled and turned his attention back to Leah. “You know, Mr. Darinsky is right. You’ve been through enough. The last thing you need is to be dragged to some ugly police station. Why don’t we just sit in the car over there—” he instinctively held up his hand to block Anatoly’s predictable protest “—the unmarked car, in the front seat. I’ll have one of the guys bring us some coffee and we’ll finish the questions here.”

  Anatoly’s jaw got a little tighter but he didn’t say anything. Leah looked to me questioningly for what I assumed was guidance. Ironic, since if she had ever taken my guidance before she never would have married Bob in the first place. But now I was all “guidanced out,” so of course I looked to Anatoly, who managed to loosen his jaw enough to speak.

  “Go ahead, Leah, we’ll be waiting for you here.”

  Leah allowed Lorenzo to steer her gently to the proper car. He stopped to talk to one of the uniformed officers, possibly to request the promised coffee, which was just stupid because the last thing Leah needed was to be more amped.

  Anatoly stood silently with his arms crossed in front of him.

  “Where’s the hidden camera?” I whispered.

  Anatoly’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “You know, the spy stuff that detectives carry around with them when they go to crime scenes.”

  Anatoly shook his head in disgust. “I was in the Russian Army, not the KGB. I don’t have any spy stuff.”

  Well, that was disappointing. “Not even a mini tape recorder?”

  “Not even that.”

  “Then what the hell did you go back up to your apartment for?”

  “A jacket.”

  “You are so not worth twelve thousand dollars.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you had ever given me the opportunity to get you undressed.”

  I opened my mouth to make a clever comeback, but then quickly closed it in order to keep the drool in. Not healthy. I really needed to try to be more somber. I thought about Bob’s early demise. Unfortunately that didn’t sufficiently lower my spirits. I turned my thoughts to Leah’s potential incarceration. That did it.