“We need to talk. About leaving and living.”
This Pause was choked with anguish. I could feel Jake’s struggle to figure out how I knew and what else I might know. “Too late now.”
“Why?”
“Go to hell.”
He hung up. I kept the phone to my ear for another moment because I knew Kyle and Detective Cook would have questions for me the moment I hung up and I wasn’t sure which ones I could answer.
When I finally closed the phone, Kyle asked, “You okay?”
His hand was still on my knee and I squeezed it appreciatively, then took a greedy sip of my drink before answering. “Yeah.”
“And that ways …”
I didn’t want to tell her because I couldn’t lay it all out neatly and win her over to a theory I hadn’t fully formed yet, but I felt obligated to her since she’d told me about Veronica’s bottle. And because Kyle wanted me to play nice. “Jake Boone. He was at the party Friday night.”
“Why do you need to talk to him?”
I took another sip, still debating, then did the right thing because I was raised that way. “He had sex with Lisbet after the party. Right before she died.”
Kyle and Detective Cook exchanged a look before Detective Cook said, “The ME told us she’d had intercourse just before death. But you learned this from …”
“Veronica Innes. Didn’t she tell you?” Detective Cook shook her head and I shrugged and said, “She told me, so I just assumed she told you.”
“And you’re meeting him …”
“I’m not. He’s gotten threatening messages on his answering machine and he thinks they’re from me.”
“Are they?” my dear friend Detective Cook asked.
“No, I’m a flies-with-honey kind of girl.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Where is he?” Kyle intervened quickly.
“He wouldn’t tell me and neither would his girlfriend.”
“Well, if David Vincent caught this guy and Lisbet McCandless together, that certainly clears things up for us,” Detective Cook proclaimed.
She did it again! “I have to go,” I said, standing.
“That’s your answer?” she asked.
“Was there a question? What I heard was you back on your wretched theory about David Vincent which must still be full of holes or you would’ve done something about it by now.”
She stood to be able to look me in the eye. Kyle stood, prepared to keep the peace if necessary. “The wall’s got a couple of cracks, but you keep handing me plaster. I do appreciate that.”
I wanted to take the rest of my bright red drink and pour it down the front of her pretty cream tee and see if she appreciated that. But I also wanted to show Kyle I could keep my cool. “I’m very sorry you and I got off on the wrong foot, because I really do want the same thing you do.” I exercised great self-control and didn’t look at Kyle because I was trying not to muddy the waters. “I want justice. But I want it for David as well as for Lisbet.”
She looked at me oddly, perhaps assessing my sincerity, perhaps holding back choice invective. I couldn’t tell. Kyle slid his hand along the small of my back. “Sit down and finish your drink.”
“I can’t. I really have to go. I have an appointment.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You can’t,” I said, gesturing to Detective Cook. “You have important business to take care of.” She sat back down and picked up her glass, looking expectantly at Kyle. That made me want to sit right back down myself, but I suspected that was why she was doing it. And I had to go talk to David. Besides, I realized with a little shiver, if I couldn’t trust Kyle with Detective Cook, what was the point in standing up Tricia and Cassady to baby-sit?
Kyle was on a completely different track. “You have people following you.”
“I’m going to meet Cassady at Tricia’s and I’ll make her come home with me.”
Kyle reached into my bag before I knew what he was doing and pulled out my cell. “She number two on this, too?” He speed-dialed Cassady without waiting for my answer. I reached for the phone, but he stepped back just far enough to make it awkward.
“Cassady? Kyle Edwards … . No, she’s fine. She’s here with me, but she says she’s on her way to you … Can I trust you to see her home? … Okay, I’m bringing her in a cab now. Thank you.” He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to me.
I’m not sure which of us looked more stunned, me or Detective Cook. She was looking at Kyle like one of the amber lights hanging from the ceiling had turned into a spotlight illuminating him in a blazing white glow. I was pretty impressed myself. A rare specimen of an endangered species—the classy guy.
“You want to finish your drink and meet me back at the precinct or go for a drive?” he asked Detective Cook, further endearing himself.
This time, she looked at me before replying. I did not gloat, I swear. “I’ll see you back there.”
“Thank you for the information, Detective Cook. I’m sure we’ll be talking again.”
“Count on it,” she replied. I laid bills on the table to settle the bar tab and she reached out to stop me. “I got this.”
“No, please. It was my invitation. It’s the least I can do.” And then, because the desire to pour my drink down the front of her shirt still hadn’t left me, I quickly put my arm through Kyle’s and walked out with him.
The doorman practically had a cab waiting. Once we’d slid in, Kyle put his arm around me like we rode around the city together all the time. I didn’t object. In fact, I had the good sense to stay quiet while he relaxed and enjoyed my putting my head on his shoulder. Then it turned out that he’d just been thinking. “I don’t like that someone followed you in there.”
“Yeah, but here’s what I’m telling myself. Whoever it was could’ve tried to hurt me, but she didn’t. So she’s probably content to just scare me.” I said it with a lot of enthusiasm, hoping to win him over to that point of view, even though I was having trouble staying there myself.
“She’s building up to her move. Finding her nerve.” He shook his head. “Whatever your appointment is, skip.”
“I can’t,” I protested, knowing that not only would it be hard to get another chance to talk to David, but I’d go crazy not being able to try and smooth things out with Tricia. Not to mention the cabin fever aspect of having to stay home until this was all over. And as much as I adored him, especially in the midst of his chivalrous gesture, I didn’t want Kyle to stay with me. I’d never get to talk to David that way.
Kyle was quiet and again, I followed suit. I sensed he was trying to come up with an alternative plan, but by the time we got to Park Avenue, he’d shaken his head a few times, but hadn’t come up with anything that passed enough muster to share with me.
He told the cabbie to wait and walked me to the door. I greeted the doorman who opened the door graciously. Kyle stepped through with me, scanned the lobby, then took my face in his hands. “Don’t be brave. Or stupid.”
“You be careful, too.”
“No one’s out to get me.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’re all Want.” He kissed me lightly, but my knees still trembled. Words to savor. He slipped back out the front door and I got on the elevator with a big grin.
With the Vincents’ apartment, “palatial” is the word that comes to mind, especially as you step in and your eye is caught by the sweeping staircase and the glittering chandelier. The floor is a pastoral mosaic I swear I saw in my college art history book and there’s a table at the center of it that King Arthur must have used when the knights got together on the weekends, resting on an exquisite fringed oriental rug. And that’s just the foyer.
Cassady opened the door for me, but Tricia was standing with her. Cassady obviously had high hopes for the evening, since she was wearing a Sue Wong spaghetti-strap cocktail dress, with fringe along its asymmetrical hem. Tricia had gone elegant in a Betsey Johnson
turquoise Battenberg lace slip dress and Hollywould black linen ankle-strap sandals decorated with turquoise and other colored beads and stones. She was paler than usual, but I wasn’t sure if that was the strain of events or of seeing me.
“Goodness, isn’t Kyle racking up the sweetie points,” Cassady said as she shut the door behind me.
Tricia didn’t say anything.
I wanted to make a joke, but I couldn’t think of anything but how sorry I was that I was there under such excruciating circumstances—needing to work things out with Tricia, needing to talk to David, trying to do both without upsetting the family any further.
“Hey Tricia,” I said.
“Molly,” was all I got in reply.
Richard chose that moment to descend the staircase, brandy snifter in his hand, playing lord of the manor to the hilt. “Hello, Molly, I didn’t know you were coming by.”
At least he hadn’t expressed revulsion at my presence, which meant there was an excellent chance that Tricia’s extreme displeasure with me hadn’t been shared with the rest of her family. Richard wouldn’t be inclined to skip an opportunity for a barb, even a veiled one. “Hello, Richard. Just came by to tempt your sister into stepping out for cocktails.”
“Why not stay here and get drunk? It’s much more efficient and we’re very good at it.” He kissed me on top of the head as he walked by and headed down the hallway. It was so long, I wasn’t sure how much time to wait before judging him to be out of earshot. Plus, I’m not used to vaulted ceilings and how they affect acoustics. Most important, I didn’t know how I was going to ask where David was.
Cassady came to my rescue, though I didn’t realize it at first. “So, shall we?”
“Go?” I asked, a little concerned.
“Stay here and get drunk,” she replied. “Or at least, begin here while we decide where to go.”
Tricia turned without a word and walked in the opposite direction from Richard, assuming Cassady and I would follow, which we did. It was somewhere between a museum tour and the walk to the principal’s office, given the formal set of Tricia’s shoulders and her refusal to look back at us. I found myself taking great care not to scuff my feet as I walked, out of respect for the glistening floors and not my shoes.
Tricia led us into a cool, spacious room dominated by a Steinway concert grand and glass-fronted bookcases. A mahogany bar with matching stools swept in front of one wall and David was behind it. I was sure Frank Sinatra would appear momentarily and start singing “Well, Did You Evah?,” but for now, David was the only occupant of the room.
Tricia seemed startled, but Cassady was pleased. I couldn’t tell whether she’d scouted his location or taken a lucky guess, but the important thing was that I was in the same room with him at last. Now, the trick was to get him to talk.
“Hello,” David said without much enthusiasm. “It’s not much of a party, but you’re welcome to join me,” he continued, gesturing to the bar stools.
“You don’t mind?” Tricia asked.
“I don’t seem capable of minding anything anymore,” he said with some frustration. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to his sorrow over Lisbet’s death or if his parents’ doctor had him on something. I hoped it wasn’t the latter, since he had a full highball glass in his hand.
“Good to see you, David,” I said, sliding onto the end stool, rather than placing myself directly in front of him and looking too eager.
“Especially good to see me neither in the hospital nor in jail,” David agreed.
“Molly’s been working very hard on keeping you out of the latter,” Cassady pointed out, taking the stool right in front of him. Tricia sat between Cassady and me, but turned herself toward him and away from me.
“By way of thanks.” He pulled a bottle out of the minifridge behind him.
“Davey no,” Tricia admonished, but he didn’t listen. He expertly pulled the cork from a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and poured four glasses.
“As Tom Waits says, ‘Champagne for my real friends, and real pain for my sham friends.’” He put one glass in front of each of us with a flourish, then picked up the last one himself.
I was relieved to see I wasn’t the only one hesitating to pick up mine. Tricia gave him a withering look, but it didn’t hit David until he’d taken a deep swig from his glass. He sighed. “I’m sorry This is pretty inappropriate, isn’t it.”
“You never listen,” Tricia said, her voice suddenly thick with repressed tears. “Why don’t you ever listen?”
“Ease up, Tricia,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry you’re in pain, but that’s no excuse for being an idiot. People are only going to feel sorry for you for so long before they start getting annoyed with your stupidity.”
I instinctively put my hand on her arm, not to stop her but to encourage her to go slow. I thought she was going to push my hand away but she put her hand on mine and squeezed it. “I really don’t know why, but people want to help you. And if Molly’s going to help you, she needs to know the truth about you and Veronica on Friday afternoon.”
I didn’t trust myself to look at David or Tricia, so I looked at Cassady, whose surprised eyes met mine over Tricia’s head. I could only imagine the pressures that had been building up in the family for the past few days and Tricia had clearly reached the breaking point.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Did you have sex with Veronica Innes on Friday afternoon? And don’t you pull any Clintonesque semantics with me. Yes or no.”
David defiantly took another swig of champagne before saying, “Yes.”
Tricia turned to me, inviting me to ask the next question. Startled, it took me a moment to jump in with, “Why?”
“Veronica and I were together a while back. She hunted me down Friday afternoon and told me this whole story about Lisbet leaving me, leaving the play, that she wasn’t taking the engagement seriously. She was pretty damn persuasive.”
“To the point that you slept with her?” I asked, trying not to sound too incredulous.
“I know I screwed up, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
“Because Lisbet caught you,” I said.
“Yes. And because it wasn’t as good as I remembered it, so it wasn’t worth it.” He slouched forward, elbows on the bar, rubbing his forehead with one hand. He made it all sound like a simple misunderstanding, but these relationships had to all be a heck of a lot deeper than he was letting on for passions to have gotten to the point where Lisbet wound up dead.
“What happened when Lisbet caught you?”
“She threw some stuff at Veronica and screamed at me.”
“What did you do?” Tricia asked sternly.
“Begged her forgiveness, blamed it all on Veronica being a scheming tramp. Spin control, sister dear. Spin control.” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t muster it. “She went with it. After all, the two of them had been having trouble at the theater.”
“Did you know Lisbet was thinking of leaving the play before Veronica told you?”
He shook his head. “I asked Lisbet about it. Once she’d stopped screaming. She said she’d had an interesting offer, but now she knew we needed to stay together, work things out.”
I wanted to phrase my next question very carefully lest I be accused of leading the witness. “You think that offer might have come from Jake Boone?”
“Jerk-off Jake? Lisbet wouldn’t give him the time of day,” David scoffed.
“She slept with him right before she was killed.” I said it neutrally, not wanting to shape his reaction at all.
He shook his head. “No way.”
“You embarrassed her by sleeping with Veronica, then embarrassed her again by carrying her out of the party. Then you fought with her and she took off her engagement ring. And you still don’t think she could’ve been mad enough to want to get back at you by sleeping with Jake?”
This time, he just sneered. “No.”
But, I thought
as the goose bumps came back, he would’ve been mad enough to lash out. To lose control. To kill her. The Detective Cook boomerang effect was taking over and she wasn’t even here. Why was it that the harder I tried to prove David innocent, the guiltier he looked? Because it was true?
“This is a surprise.” Mrs. Vincent stepped in from the hallway, Teri Jon pink tweed suit impeccable, Judith Leiber satin clutch in hand, face impassive. “Good evening, ladies. Time to go, David.”
Tricia spun on her stool to face her mother. “Where are you going?”
“Out for a little dinner, dear. I’m sure Ingrid will cook for you and your friends if you’re hungry.”
David came out from behind the bar, eyes down, avoiding his sister’s questioning glance.
“You’re going out?” Tricia asked, puzzled.
“Just a working meal. We’re planning a little gettogether, an opportunity for people to show David some support during this difficult time.”
“Really.” Tricia tried, but she couldn’t suppress all the doubt in her voice.
“It was Rebecca’s idea. I thought it was quite nice.”
“Really,” Tricia repeated. This time, there was no doubt, only ice. “I didn’t realize. I would have made different plans,” she continued, gesturing to us as she stood up.
Mrs. Vincent waved vaguely for Tricia to sit back down. “It’s fine, dear. We can handle it.”
Rebecca and Richard appeared in the doorway behind Mrs. Vincent. Richard had pulled himself together enough to get a jacket on. Rebecca looked like she was planning on auditioning for Junior League later that evening, in a positively sedate DKNY pink linen suit with a notched collar and tailored waist and Dolce & Gabbana eel-skin pumps.
“Are we ready? Dad’s waiting,” Rebecca said sweetly.
“Mother, I’d like to be included,” Tricia said.
“Oh, dear, no need. I’m sure we’ll get it all figured out.” Mrs. Vincent smiled regally, turning back enough to take Rebecca’s hand. “Rebecca’s been such an unexpected comfort in all this. You girls have fun tonight.” Rebecca and Mrs. Vincent walked away.
Killer Cocktail Page 21
