Queen of Spades

by Kristi Belcamino

  But as Eva listened, it seemed that the GFO was more of a way for bored, rich parents to boss other bored, rich parents around.

  Krystal was in the middle of talking about the annual fundraiser when Alessandra got fussy and started to cry. Eva didn’t want to miss the presentation or disturb the rest of the room, so she lowered the scoop neck of her knit top and began to nurse.

  She smiled down at Alessandra as the infant fed. Breastfeeding had been another unexpected joy of motherhood. Nothing was sweeter than seeing Alessandra’s lips curve into a smile as she paused from nursing to meet her mother’s eyes. It was one of the most natural, loving things Eva had ever done for another person.

  Suddenly, Eva realized the room had grown silent.

  When she looked back up, she met Krystal Diamond’s eyes. She froze mid-sentence and was watching Eva with a glare full of both disdain and disgust.

  Heads turned to see what she was staring at.

  Faced with dozens of people staring at her, Eva froze. Her goal in her new life was to not bring any undue attention to herself. It was crucial for her survival. Her instinct was to tell them all to fuck off and turn around, but she knew she couldn’t. Instead, she looked away.

  A few of the women smiled at her. Others looked at her with disregard.

  The principal saved the day, approaching the podium and taking charge.

  “Thank you, Krystal. We can go into more details about the fundraiser later.”

  Eva gave the principal a grateful smile as heads turned back toward the front.

  But from that day on, Krystal had been rude to Eva in her passive-aggressive manner.

  Now, Eva cringed as she watched Krystal on TV and waited for what she would say.

  The reporter held the microphone up to Krystal’s heavily made up face.

  “Can you tell viewers what happened the last time you saw Eva White?”

  Eva’s heart sank.

  “She was acting really strange,” Krystal said. “First, she stood up in the middle of my meeting—I’m in charge of the annual fundraiser; we raise more than $500,000 a year.” She smiled at the camera.

  “What do you do with the funds you raise?” the reporter asked. “Is there a charity near and dear to your heart?”

  The question threw Krystal for a loop. She blinked several times before answering. “Why, the money goes right back into the school. Of course. For technology. I mean our children today need to have top-notch technology if they are going to compete in this world. Every student at our school is given a state-of-the-art laptop, iPad, smartphone, action camera, video editing software…well, I could go on and on about how wonderful our school is.”

  “It sounds lovely,” the reporter said, but her facial expression didn’t match her words. She was clearly exasperated with Krystal. She shifted from leg to leg and then plastered a huge smile on her face before saying, “Back to what we were discussing earlier. What did Mrs. White do that was strange?”

  “Oh yes, that,” Krystal said as if even speaking about Eva was bothersome. “She walked out in the middle of the meeting, and when I went after her for an explanation, she became violent.”

  “Violent? In what way?” For the first time the reporter looked interested.

  “She struck me.”

  “Hit you? Where?”

  “She grabbed my arm. She left a mark. She ripped my fingernails off!”

  The reporter blanched.

  Krystal plucked her red Kelly handbag off her arm, switched it to the other one, and then pushed up the sleeve of her silk blouse. She held out her bare wrist.

  Even though the camera zoomed in, her pinkish flesh looked unblemished.

  Eva could barely contain her anger. It was a blatant lie. The woman had grabbed her arm and Eva had yanked away. Eva’s arm was the one with the mark, the trail of five scratches from Krystal’s long fake nails digging into her flesh, drawing blood.

  “Oh my,” the reporter said. “She ripped your nails off?” She pointedly looked at Krystal’s long, pointy, white-painted nails.

  Krystal nodded, eyes wide.

  The reporter gave the camera a serious look and said, “And then shortly after that incident in the parking lot of the school, Eva White’s family was murdered.”

  Krystal pursed her lips and nodded.

  The reporter patted Krystal’s arm and then put a hand to an earpiece, nodding.

  “Stand by. Robert? You say you have another parent on the line who just called and says he also knew Mrs. White? Let’s go back to the newsroom now.”

  The footage switched back to the news desk. A big graphic with the black silhouette of a man’s head, said, “Man who knew Eva White on the line.”

  Eva instantly recognized the voice. “My name is Nikos Alexopoulos. I’ve known Mrs. White since our children were in preschool, and I wanted to say that there is no way she would ever have done something so heinous. I think the police are wasting their time looking for her as a suspect. She loved her family. She would never have hurt them.”

  Eva felt tears prick at her eyes but dismissed them. There was no room for weakness. Not now. Not from here on out.

  “Did you see the photo that the police released?” the anchor asked.

  There was a long silence.

  “Mr. Alexopoulos, did you see the photo? Police say the rest of the footage shows that woman killing her family. It’s all documented.”

  “Yes. I did see the photo.”

  “In your opinion, did the woman in the photo look like Eva White.”

  Another silence.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes.” The voice sounded pained.

  “Thank you for your time Mr. Alexopoulos.” The line was disconnected and Nikos was dismissed.

  The TV switched back to the Latina reporter. “Robert, we were just about to leave the school grounds when Krystal Diamond flagged us down. We’ll let her explain.”

  Eva sat up straighter, leaning across the bar toward the TV, straining to hear every word.

  Krystal’s oversized head appeared in front of the camera again. The person wielding the camera scooted back a bit. Krystal followed, inching forward until the reporter touched her arm, saying in a low voice, “You’re perfect standing right here.”

  “Mrs. Diamond, why don’t you tell viewers what happened when you went to your car a few moments ago?”

  “My tire was flat!” She said it as if the idea was inconceivable.

  “And what else?” the reporter prompted.

  Krystal blinked. Deer in headlights.

  “Didn’t you say you found something?”

  “Yes…” she trailed off, seeming dazed.

  The reporter waited. Krystal blinked again.

  “Do you want to just hold it up?”

  That seemed to prompt Krystal back to life.

  “Yes, I found this on my seat. Which I don’t understand, because I always lock my Lexus, and there is an alarm, but this was on my seat.” She sounded bewildered as she held up a playing card. The queen of spades.

  Eva stifled her gasp. She quickly looked around at the other people seated at the bar, but nobody was paying attention—to her or the TV. The bartender, however, cast her an odd look, and she realized she needed to get the hell out of there.

  Leaving a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and most of the meal she’d ordered untouched, she scooped up her bags and slipped out the door into the main terminal. She walked quickly as she made her way to the place where her bus was waiting.

  As she walked, her chest tightened. The message was crystal fucking clear. No pun intended. The killer was going after that Queen Bee diva next and wanted Eva to know.

  Krystal was bait. The killer was baiting her. She knew exactly who Eva was. She was right, her past had caught up with her.

  The message was unmistakable.

  Eva felt no urge to save the nasty woman, but she knew she would, if only to prevent Krystal’s sweet son from going through such a tragedy.


  As she stepped on the bus, she felt a sense of urgency swarm through her. She needed to get set up and on the hunt immediately. She’d already wasted too much time. The killer was expecting her, waiting for her. She’d made that clear with the playing card. And one other thing was clear—the clock was ticking.

  Twelve

  1990s

  Los Angeles

  After the bus let her off on Sunset Boulevard, Eva flagged down a taxi to take her the rest of the way to her house. The neighbors would do a double take if they saw her trudging up the long, steep road carrying her bug-out bag and a duffel. It was conspicuous to say the least.

  The taxi driver dumped her at the guardhouse gate.

  “Thanks. I’m visiting friends. They’ll be home in a minute. I’ll just wait here.” She was careful to pay the exact amount with a normal tip. She didn’t want anything about her to stand out in the taxi driver’s mind. It was bad enough that she looked like a homeless vagabond with all her gear.

  When the taxi’s taillights disappeared around a corner, Eva punched in the gate code she’d given to the real estate agent. Bingo. So far so good. After the gate swung closed behind her, she took note of all the security cameras she’d asked the real estate agent to have installed. They were all in place. Once she made it inside the house, she’d set up her laptop and transfer the remaining funds to the agent.

  She hadn’t seen any people or vehicles, so she headed up the steep, winding driveway.

  The house itself was nondescript. It had no windows on the front side, a feature Eva found very appealing. Instead, the bulk of the front of the stucco house was comprised of a two-car garage and a solid door. When she’d stepped inside the house and locked the door behind her, she let her shoulders sag in relief.

  One step down. A million more to go. She was just on the brink of the hunt, still in the planning and preparation stages. But luckily, the killer had given her a map. She knew exactly where to go and what to do. She needed to hurry, though.

  She peeked into the attached garage. The car she’d requested was there with a full tank, up-to-date registration, and keys in the ignition. Perfect. Back inside, she set up her laptop on the Formica bar counter and logged in. The first thing she did was pay the real estate agent.

  She left a note: “Excellent work. I’ve transferred the remaining funds.”

  Then she logged into the new security system for the house and checked the footage going all the way back to installation. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place.

  Although she was eager to act, Eva had to sit tight for a few hours. Krystal would be at the school for the rest of the day, working in the school library like she did every Thursday. Eva would wait outside the school until the library closed at five and then follow her home. Just to be safe, though, Eva grabbed her voice encryptor headphones and programmed them to portray a female voice before connecting them to her burner cell phone and dialing the school’s main line.

  “Is Krystal Diamond there?” she said. “I can’t believe it, but my son forgot to turn in his library book today. I reminded him several times.”

  “Yes. Mrs. Diamond is in the library. Would you like me to transfer you?”

  “I don’t want to disturb her. Just one question, though—do you know how long she’ll be there? If I leave now will I still be able to get it to her in time?” The woman on the other line seemed exasperated by her questions.

  “I don’t know where you are coming from or how long it will take you, so I can’t answer that question. However, I can tell you that Mrs. Diamond is scheduled to work in the library until five p.m. today since the library is open late on Thursdays now instead of Mondays.”

  “Perfect. Thanks. I’ll be there before five.”

  Eva hung up, disabled the generated number, and programmed a new one.

  She had several hours before she had to leave for the school.

  Enough time to do another search for Luca, to dig deeper.

  She went to the Dark Web. A deeply buried website briefly mentioned her brother. She read quickly, scanning the document. Luca had pissed the wrong people off. He’d slept with a capo’s daughter and refused to make an honest woman of her. He’d then married another woman. The newlyweds had died in a car bombing on their way home from the wedding.

  Her brother was dead. Dead for nearly a year.

  Eva sat back in shock. She didn’t feel a shred of pity for him. Instead, a wave of fear trickled through her. If Luca hadn’t killed her family, who had?

  A few hours later, with a ball cap pulled low and huge sunglasses on, Eva parked on the street outside the school in her new car—an environmentally friendly vehicle—something no self-respecting Malibu housewife would drive. It was a car that a Minnesota soccer mom would tool around in.

  It was also a common disguise for nearly all the celebrities in Los Angeles when they tried to get about town incognito. If anyone thought she was in disguise, in L.A. it would be natural for them to assume she was some hot actress trying to keep a low-profile.

  Eva held her binoculars up and pointed them at the windows of the library. She saw Krystal’s blonde head bob by every once in a while, until finally the lights went out. A few minutes later, she was tailing Krystal’s massive, white Lexus SUV through the streets of Los Angeles, keeping far enough back to not draw attention or suspicion.

  Soon, Krystal pulled up before a gated community. Damn it.

  Eva pulled over to the side of the road and watched as Krystal and the guard had a brief conversation.

  The gate clanked closed behind her vehicle.

  Eva pulled into the driveway, stopping at the gate. The guard looked at her through the window.

  “I’m here to see Krystal Diamond.”

  He frowned. “She didn’t say anything about a visitor.”

  “That’s odd,” Eva said. “She wanted me to start coming to her house to do her weekly massage since she has to work late on Thursdays now—they changed the late day, I guess.”

  “She did mention that change,” he frowned again. “Well, she just pulled into the community, so she’s not at her house yet.”

  “Great. I was running a few minutes behind, so now I won’t be late.”

  He stared at her for a second and then opened the gate.

  Eva smiled. “Thanks. I’m Kim. I’ll be coming on Thursdays from now on.”

  He nodded formally.

  “Oh, one other thing,” Eva said. “She told me the name of the community, but forgot to give me the house number. We got busy talking about Patricia’s party this Sunday.”

  Eva hoped by dropping the principal’s name, she’d solidify her story even more.

  “5407.”

  “Thanks.”

  Eva zipped in, watching in relief as the gate closed behind her. As soon as she was out of the guard’s line of sight, she punched the accelerator.

  A mile up the road, she spotted a sign for 5407 and a long, cobblestone driveway leading to a massive house perched on the edge of the Hollywood hillside.

  She arrived in time to see the garage door closing. She pulled to the side of the driveway under a tree, hoping her vehicle would not attract attention as she surveyed the house. If Eva was right, Krystal was home alone. Yates and his father would be at karate class. She’d once heard Krystal saying that Thursday nights were her home spa and Ally McBeal night because “the boys” were gone.

  The house faced the east and had windows at the front and back, so even from where Eva was she could see the sun setting on the Pacific not far away. The view was spectacular. The plastic surgery business must be doing well.

  At the same time, the glass house creeped her out. Anyone could see inside. The family must really trust that guard at the gatehouse and their neighbors to not come snooping around. Eva would never ever live in a house that exposed her that way, even if there hadn’t been a decade-long hit out on her life.

  Eva yanked off her hat and dark glasses and held the binoculars up to her eyes, po
inting them at the various windows of the house. She spotted Krystal in an upstairs window stripping off her top.

  Something caught Eva’s eye toward the side of the house facing the small canyon. A figure emerged from the bushes to the south. The person had a lithe body and was dressed all in black with a dark ski mask. Eva saw the person had a gun. Her blood raced, and she instinctively reached for the dagger strapped to her back, but then her hand dropped. The gun in her ankle holster was what she really needed. She watched the figure creep around to the back of the house.

  Eva opened her car door and slipped out, leaving the door open behind her. She ran toward the house, keeping her gaze trained on the floor-to-ceiling front windows that presented a view of the entire first level and then straight through the house and through the bank of windows facing west.

  Within a few seconds, a dark form emerged on the back deck. Eva crept toward the front of the house, watching as the intruder boldly picked up a chair and smashed it through a back window. Eva jumped. Her eyes flicked up to the second story. She watched as Krystal first raced for the bedroom door and then jerked back toward the bed, scrambling for a cell phone.

  Down below, the person’s gloved hands chopped at the remaining fragments of glass still stuck in the frame until there was a large enough opening to step through.

  Eva was sprinting now, racing toward the front of the house. Meanwhile, she saw the dark silhouette of the figure loping toward the staircase. At the front door, Eva smashed the window pane near the door with her gun. She reached in to unlock the door so she didn’t have to worry about cutting herself on the jagged window edges.

  Once inside, she raced toward the stairs, stooping in mid-run long enough to yank her pistol out of its ankle holster. She wished she’d brought more weapons. From the way the intruder moved and acted, Eva knew she was dealing with a professional who knew what they were doing and would be a formidable match.