by Kyra Davis
I pulled my phone out of my handbag and called Chrissie. It rang four times before she picked up.
“You set him up,” I said simply.
“Ah, Sophie, I was wondering if you’d call.”
“How can you blame your own husband for what I did?”
“Would you have preferred me to accuse you?”
“Yes!” I walked over to the fireplace and glared down at the ashes. “Better that than have some innocent guy thrown in jail!”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“Chrissie, are you still there?”
“Yes,” she said in a slightly gentler voice. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I turned to Mr. Katz, who twitched his tail in amazement.
“Yes…for you. I’m sorry I had to involve you. I don’t have anything against you. You’re upset about your friend, that’s understandable but…but don’t you see what she’s been doing to me? She’s destroying my life.”
“She screwed your husband a couple times before you were even married. That does not equate to destroying your life.”
“You’re not hearing me. Tim is still being unfaithful! It’s not over!”
“Of course it is! Dena hasn’t been with anyone other than Kim or Jason in over a year.”
“Kim and Jason? Good God, is Dena involved in some kind of bisexual threesome?”
“For your information Kim’s a guy. The other girl in their polyamorous relationship is Amelia but Dena doesn’t sleep with her— Wait, why am I telling you this? The point is that your husband is not one of the men Dena is sexually involved with. Okay? I’m sure she hasn’t even seen Tim since he married you!”
“I saw them, Sophie,” Chrissie said quietly. “I watched my husband walk into that store. I saw them through the window.”
Mr. Katz dug his claws into the pillow again and this time I could see a tiny bit of stuffing poke out of a newly made hole. I felt nauseous. “You saw this recently?”
“Last month.”
“But you must have misunderstood what you were seeing!” I insisted. “Less than two years ago my boyfriend, Anatoly, found me in the arms of my ex-husband but it didn’t mean anything! I was just trying to angle him into position so I could effectively knee him in the groin!”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I squeezed my eyes closed and put my fingers to my temples. “You probably didn’t need to know that.”
“I didn’t need to know and I don’t care. I saw Tim go into that sleazy store of hers and there’s no excuse for that. And when I confronted him he had the gall to get mad at me! He got upset that I was following him and he accused me of stalking Dena. Poor Dena. That’s actually what he said! Poor Dena! As if she was the one deserving of sympathy!”
“So you called the police and told them he was the one who hit you? That’s your way of dealing with your anger?”
Chrissie let out a sharp laugh. “Are you about to give me a lecture on anger management? Wow, that’s…amusing.”
“Okay, fine, I have a temper. And if you don’t fix this I’m going to go over there and show you exactly how bad my temper can get!”
“I don’t see why I should have to fix this. You’re the one who started this whole thing. If you’re so anxious to see justice done you can call the police and tell them you attacked me. Go ahead, I dare you.”
“Chrissie—” But there was a click before I could finish. It was everything I could do not to throw my cell phone across the room.
I looked up to see Anatoly standing at the base of the stairs.
“You just threatened Chrissie again,” he said flatly not even bothering to make the statement a question.
“She wants me to call the police and tell them the truth.”
“How unreasonable of her.”
“Oh, shut up. You know what? I’m going to do it. I’m going to call them right now. Just try to stop me.”
Anatoly gestured for me to get on with it. “Lend me your ATM card so I can bail you out.”
I glared at him and stabbed my fingers against the digits of my phone.
I was transferred to three different extensions before I was finally directed to a detective who could help me.
“Ms. Katz,” the man said, his voice low and frighteningly familiar.
“Detective Lorenzo?” This was not good. I had dealt with Detective Lorenzo before and it was safe to say that he hated me. It had something to do with the fact that I managed to lie to him in almost every conversation we ever had and we had lots of conversations due to the way I sort of inadvertently got involved in several cases that were being investigated by the police. Okay, my involvement wasn’t always inadvertent but I did always have good intentions and very good reasons for my deceit. Lorenzo never quite seemed to appreciate that.
“What can I help you with?” he said in a tone that let me know he wasn’t going to help me with anything.
“I…um…I understand that you’ve arrested a man named Tim Powell on a domestic violence charge?”
“Why is that of concern to you?”
“Okay, here’s the thing…Tim didn’t hit his wife, I did.”
“I see.”
I waited for him to continue but the only sound I could hear was the background noises you would expect to hear at a police station: sirens, men talking, phones ringing, even a few people yelling. But Lorenzo said nothing.
“Detective Lorenzo, do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I just confessed to a crime, that’s why!”
“Yes, I heard you confess. The problem is that Tim confessed, too, and of the two of you, he’s the only one who doesn’t have a history of making false statements to the police.”
“Wait, are you serious? Why would I confess to something I didn’t do?”
“Why do you do anything?”
“Detective, you’ve arrested an innocent—”
“You’re not going to answer?” he asked mockingly. “That was a serious question! What happened to make you act the way you do? Is there some kind of medication you can take to make you sane?”
“You don’t understand—”
“I am telling you right now that you need to be careful about what you’re going to say next. You’ve managed to avoid being charged with interfering with an ongoing investigation up until now but one more false confession or any other attempt to mess around in police business and I will send a squad car over to your house and have some of the boys take you away in handcuffs. Got it?”
“But…I…” I looked around trying to find some clue as to how to deal with this unexpected turn of events. “I don’t know what to say,” I finally muttered.
“What a refreshing change. Goodnight, Ms. Katz.”
I stood there mute as the line went dead.
“They didn’t believe you,” Anatoly said. His voice had become gentler but he wasn’t looking at me. Instead he was facing the bay window now, staring intently at the darkness.
“Tim confessed. Why would he do that?”
“Masochism?” Anatoly suggested.
“What should I do?”
Anatoly shrugged, his eyes still glued to the window. “You’ve done everything you can. You told the police the truth, it’s not your fault they don’t believe you and it certainly isn’t your fault that Tim confessed. It probably doesn’t matter. The police are investigating both Tim and Chrissie. If one of them shot Dena they’ll figure it out and charge them for attempted murder. This punch will cease to be important. So my suggestion is that you get some sleep and don’t hit anyone else.”
“I’ll try,” I said vaguely.
Anatoly gave me a sharp look.
“To go to sleep,” I clarified. “I’ll try to go to sleep and I definitely won’t hit anyone.”
Anatoly continued to watch me and I sh
ifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “What?”
“I want to believe that you won’t do anything like this again and that you’ll work with me to investigate this instead of working behind my back, but you make it very difficult for me to trust you in this area. I don’t know if I can sit back while you play it fast and loose with your life yet again.”
“That’s it, I’ve HAD IT! My best friend is in the hospital and I got angry and acted impulsively. Are you honestly going to tell me that you’ve never acted impulsively? Do you seriously expect me to believe that you’ve never allowed your emotions to guide your actions?”
For a moment Anatoly just stared at me. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t even look resigned. I couldn’t read him at all. When he wanted to, Anatoly had the ultimate poker face. He assumed the poker face more often that I would like.
“You know who I am,” I said. I could hear the tremor in my voice and I hated it. “When things like this happen I…I have to do something. It’s who I am. You know that.”
Anatoly said nothing. Instead he turned around and picked his jacket off the couch and then just walked out the door.
My mouth dropped open. He didn’t just do that! I looked down at my hands. They were shaking so hard I had to press them against my stomach to keep them still. Was he going back to his apartment? He said he kept it because of all the arguments we had that ended with my threatening to kick him out. But my memory of those arguments were different. There were plenty of times when I had said things like, “If that’s the way you want to play it why don’t you go back to your apartment,” but that’s different from saying, “I want you to leave.”
For me that apartment represented the part of himself that he was unwilling to share with me and lately it felt as if that was a pretty big part.
But at the moment I didn’t have any of him! He had just walked out and left me alone with my cat! Son of a fucking bitch! I was going to kill him!
“Coward,” I muttered aloud. And then I stepped forward and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Coward!” I screamed although he was undoubtedly out of hearing range. Still, it felt good. “You’re a big pussy!” I shouted.
The door flew open and Anatoly strode back inside. Before I could ask him what was going on he kicked my legs out from underneath me and then dropped down and caught me just before I hit the floor. He held me with one arm, his other supporting himself in what was kind of a one-arm push-up.
“You wanted to see me do something impulsive?”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t a giggle either; it was the kind of full-bodied laughter that makes your stomach hurt. “And people say I’m crazy!” I managed.
Anatoly’s mouth curved into that little sexy half smile of his but then his face quickly became serious again and he lowered me onto the floor so he could use both arms to support his weight. “I do know who you are. But, Sophie, please don’t ask me to sit back while you endanger your life because that’s not who I am.”
“Okay,” I said quietly. “So I guess what you’re really saying is that you don’t want me to go into the homes of any more potential murderers?”
“Not if you can help it.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m really going to try.”
Anatoly rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of a couple of ideas.”
Again the little half smile made an appearance. He lowered himself into a half push-up so our bodies were only separated by an inch or two of air. “Are you going to behave?” he asked teasingly, his mouth finding its way to my neck.
“Not likely.” I laughed.
I shuddered slightly as he let the full weight of his body press against mine. I could feel his hands on my waist, and then my breast. I could also feel what was pressing up against my thigh.
“You know, when I screamed pussy…that was an insult not an offer.”
“So you say.” He was nibbling on my ear now.
“Aren’t you even going to ask me if I’m in the mood?” I asked teasingly.
“I don’t have to ask,” he said as he lowered his mouth to my neck. “I can tell from your breathing. You seem to be having a hard time catching your breath.”
“Maybe that’s because you just knocked me off my feet?”
“I see. Then it’s not because you’re anticipating my doing this?”
He yanked my arms above my head and secured them with one hand as his free hand slid down my stomach and then…lower.
“Nope, wasn’t anticipating that at all,” I breathed. “You know what else I’m not anticipating?”
“Hmm?” Anatoly’s mouth had worked its way down to the hollow spot above my collarbone.
“I’m not anticipating your taking off my shirt and slipping your hand underneath my bra. Boy, if you were to do that I’d be at a total loss.”
“Would you now?” His lips moved back up to my neck. “You’d be at a total loss?”
“Well,” I said coyly, “that is what I said but you know how untrustworthy I can be. Why don’t you test me?”
As Anatoly ripped my shirt from my body I felt a surge of overwhelming desire…and an acute stab of guilt. Dena was in the hospital and I was here being sexually playful with my Russian love god.
As Anatoly let his fingers trace a path along my rib cage and over the contours of my bra I could almost hear Dena whispering in my ear, urging me to let go of my guilt and find relief in ecstasy.
As Anatoly’s fingers traveled under my bra, for a brief moment I imagined I saw a little devil version of Dena on my shoulder giving me two thumbs-up. But when Anatoly released my wrists so he could undo my jeans at the same time as he fondled my breast all thoughts of Dena slipped away. It was simply impossible to focus on anything other than what Anatoly was doing to me at that moment. I was on fire. I moaned quietly as I felt his fingers slip inside me.
And just like that the world didn’t seem like such a terrible place anymore.
Funny how that happens.
CHAPTER 11
If you’re married by a judge and your husband later breaks his marriage vows can he be prosecuted for perjury?
–Fatally Yours
We didn’t lounge around in bed the next day although we did make arrangements to meet that evening for happy hour at Yoshi’s. We already had tickets for a jazz concert there later that evening, and while a lot had changed since we had made those plans we both agreed that an evening away from it all was probably just what the doctor ordered. It was doubtful if I would have a chance to talk to Anatoly during the afternoon. He had to work and I…well, I had to think. Anatoly had said that I had done everything I could to help poor falsely accused Tim but that wasn’t technically true. I had done everything that could reasonably be expected of me, but why would anyone expect me to behave reasonably in a time of crisis?
The truth was that I could do a lot more. I could go to the courthouse for Tim’s bail hearing and I could talk to him. I could even bail him out, and I would, too…unless he said something that made me question my first assumption about Chrissie. Chrissie was easily evil enough to kill someone but something she had said on the phone last night was bothering me. She really thought Dena and Tim were still together and I knew that wasn’t true. If Dena said she was only going to sleep with Jason and Kim then that was it. There wouldn’t be anyone else until she said so. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she did say so sometime soon but she wouldn’t be sneaking around behind anyone’s back. Dena wasn’t a sneaker.
So Chrissie’s presumptions were either formed by extreme paranoia or Tim had given her the impression that more was going on. Now why would he do that? To piss Chrissie off? That made sense. It would be impossible to spend more than a few minutes with Chrissie without wanting to piss her off. But if you were married to her you wouldn’t be able to piss her off and walk away. You’d have to stay and deal with the consequences which were bound to be extreme. It hardly seemed worth it.
It was also possible that Tim wasn’t playing with a full deck. Maybe he thought something was going on between Dena and him that had never really existed. Maybe he was obsessed. Obsessed people were bad news. They had a tendency to hurt the very people they wanted most. Sometimes they killed them.
So I had to know what kind of guy Tim was. Was he an innocent who I needed to bail out? Or was he a psychotic who needed to stay behind bars for as long as possible?
So of course I went to the bail hearing to see what I could find out.
In the movies courtrooms are always given a certain grandeur. The wood is always perfectly polished, the judge always looks regal and the room is always silent with the exception of the occasional excited murmur that is immediately silenced by the powerful bang of the gavel.
But this wasn’t a movie. This was the courtroom where Tim Powell’s bail hearing was being held. I sat in the middle of the courtroom taking it all in. It was all very real and in reality courtrooms suck. Not when you’re a tourist being lead through the Supreme Court building but when you actually have to defend yourself, when your entire future is in the hands of one person who has no idea who you are or what you’re really capable of…well, if that’s your situation then a courtroom isn’t grand. It’s a dark, wretched place. You can actually smell the fear and guilt that is oozing out of the other plaintiffs who are waiting for their turn to be judged and degraded. And if you happen to be one of those rare breeds—the innocent plaintiff—then the courtroom is more frightening than hell.
That’s probably what Tim was thinking as he sat next to his lawyer waiting for His Honor to address him. An innocent man asking for the man in the black robe to set a price for his freedom…it really couldn’t be worse.
As the prosecution rattled off all the reasons Tim could be a flight risk I couldn’t help but want to act like an actor in a courtroom drama. I wanted to interrupt everything and say, “Your Honor, this man is innocent and if you put me on the stand right now I’ll prove it to you!” I had just enough self-control to suppress the urge.
