by Joanne Fluke
Katy checked her appearance in the rearview mirror and added a touch of blusher to her cheeks. Sam would like her new suit. Green was his favorite color. And she was wearing her hair long and loose, the way he’d always preferred it. It would be difficult to see Sam again and even more difficult to ask for a favor, but it would be worth it in the end. She had decided to come right out and tell Sam the truth. She’d say that Billy Goat had assigned her to the Video Killer’s story, that it was critical to her career at the paper, and that she’d be very grateful for any help he could give her.
“Mrs. Ladera!” Andy Mertens, the desk sergeant, looked up as she approached, and his florid face crinkled in a broad smile of greeting. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Andy.” Katy smiled back, even though she had to squelch the impulse to say that she was no longer Mrs. Ladera. “I came to see Sam, if he’s available.”
“Well, he said no more visitors, but . . .” Andy hesitated. The chief had left strict orders, but Katy wasn’t exactly a visitor. And everyone in the department knew he’d been in a blue funk since his divorce. He’d just started to act halfway human again when this Video Killer thing hit. Maybe seeing her would be good for the chief.
“Hang on a couple of minutes, Mrs. Ladera. There’s some lady reporter with him right now, but she won’t last long. He’s already kicked out three today. Everybody wants a story on the Video Killer, and the chief’s getting real touchy about it. Personally, I think he’s about ready to blow his stack, and you know what that means.”
Katy nodded. Sam’s temper was slow to build, but when it reached the point of no return, there was always a fiery explosion. She certainly didn’t want to be the one who pushed him over the edge with her questions about the Video Killer. Perhaps it would be smart to think of an alternative plan.
“I’m guessing it won’t be more than five minutes.” Andy gestured toward Sam’s office door. The voices inside were growing louder. “Would you like a cup of coffee while you’re waiting?”
“No, thank you, Andy. I’m well acquainted with the kind of coffee you make here. It hasn’t gotten any better, has it?”
“Not really.” Andy grinned, showing the gap between his front teeth. Just then the door to Sam’s office opened and a pretty blonde rushed out. Katy recognized her immediately. It was Jessica Clarke, the award-winning syndicated columnist. She was frowning and her face was very red. She hurried past Katy, noticed her notebook, and turned to speak to her.
“If you’re here for a story, you’d better forget it. He almost bit my head off!”
“I’m not here for a story.” Katy smiled sweetly. “I’m just his ex-wife.”
“Ex-wife?”
Katy nodded.
“Well, I can certainly understand why you divorced him. That man is an absolute bear!”
As soon as she left, Andy stood up. “I’ll tell the chief you’re here, Mrs. Ladera. And don’t worry. I’ll calm him down a little before I send you in.”
Andy was gone for a full five minutes, time enough for Katy to come up with a good cover story. She’d wanted to be up-front with Sam, but this wasn’t the time for honesty. If he found out she was here for a scoop on the Video Killer, he’d be sure to explode. Finally the office door opened and Andy motioned to her.
There was a smile on Katy’s face as she passed through the doorway, but she quickly sobered when she caught sight of Sam. He looked awful. Her first instinct was to rush to put her arms around him, but that was crazy. They were divorced, and Sam wouldn’t let her hug him anyway.
“Hello, Sam.”
“Katy. What can I do for you?”
Katy stood, waiting for him to motion toward a chair, but he didn’t, so she sat down anyway. He was as stubborn as always. This was going to be more difficult than she’d thought.
“I’ve got a problem, Sam, and I was hoping you’d help. Billy Goat gave me a new assignment today and—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Sam interrupted her. His voice was sharp and impersonal. Did he really hate her that much?
“If it has anything to do with the Video Killer, you can turn right around and leave.”
“It doesn’t!” Katy felt a telltale blush spread over her cheeks. “It’s a Sunday supplement thing on lady cops. Look, Sam, I know the only reason I got this assignment is because I’m your ex-wife. Billy figured the connection would get me in. I don’t like this any better than you do, but if you’ll let me do a couple of interviews, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
“Lady cops?”
“Right. Please, Sam? I’ll be really embarrassed if I have to go back and tell Billy that you kicked me out of your office.”
“You’re sure Billy didn’t send you to fish for anything else? Like information about the Video Killer?”
“Oh, Sam!” Katy put on her best injured expression. “You know Billy. He’d never send a woman on an important assignment like that!”
“I guess that’s true.” Sam smiled slightly. “Are you still doing the health section, Katy?”
“Yes, but you’re the only one who knows how difficult that is. I still can’t spell penicillin.”
This time Sam’s smile was fuller. “I always thought the arts were more your style. What happened to that sculpture class you were going to take?”
“The same thing that happened to the painting class. I bought all the supplies and then I chickened out. That reminds me, is all that unused canvas still in the storage locker?”
“It’s still there. Do you want it?”
“No, I just wondered, that’s all. How about the potter’s wheel and the loom?”
“They’re right next to the folk dance costumes and the classical guitar.”
Katy looked up at Sam sheepishly and was relieved to find that he was still smiling.
“There’s ten years of my life in that storage locker, Sam. All the projects I started and didn’t finish.”
“Yep. Just like our marriage.”
“Come on, Sam. I . . .” A lump rose in Katy’s throat and she blinked back tears. This was ridiculous. The last thing she wanted was for Sam to see her crying.
“Sorry, Katy.” Sam was the first to speak. “I guess I just miss you sometimes.”
“I . . . I miss you, too, sometimes.”
Katy blinked hard. The tears were still threatening. This was precisely what she wanted to avoid. Thinking about her marriage with Sam always made her cry, and part of her wished for a reconciliation. She told herself it was impossible. If they hadn’t worked out their problems in ten years, starting over wouldn’t accomplish much. She was better off alone, wasn’t she?
“Well?” Katy stood up and deliberately put a smile on her face. “What do you say, Sam?” Do I get to interview those lady cops?”
“Sure.” Sam stood up, too. “I’ll set up something for you right away if you want to start this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Sam.” They were walking to the door, and without thinking, Katy reached up to hug him. She felt Sam’s surprise and then his arms tightened around her. It felt good. Very good. Katy stepped back quickly before it could feel any better and reminded herself that this was business. Newspaper business.
“Ask Andy to get you settled in one of the interrogation rooms. I’ll see who’s available.”
“Thanks again, Sam.” Katy paused at the open doorway. Then she reached up quickly and touched the side of his face. “You look like Stallone again, Sam. Please get some sleep.”
When Tony turned on Ventura Boulevard, he was whistling. So far, everything was going great. He’d spent an hour in Sam’s office, going over the new murder disc, and he was definitely right about the Hitchcock thing. Last night’s victim, Diana Ellington, was a ringer for Barbara Leigh-Hunt. And the segment had definitely been patterned on Frenzy, right down to the tie that the killer had used to strangle her. The murder disc had been chilling, even more so than Hitchcock’s scene, and in Tony’s opinion, the actual filming had be
en brilliant. He’d left Sam with the promise to hurry on the list of Hitchcock’s victims, and now he was heading home to enlist Allison’s help. She didn’t know it yet, but she was going to be his research assistant. It would be easy to convince her. She adored Hitchcock movies.
Tony pulled up in a loading zone and rushed into a small shop on Ventura. The sign on the window read PATTI’S POPCORN. Allison was a sucker for popcorn and he’d take her a little gift along with the movies.
“May I help you, sir?”
A pretty brunette was manning the counter. She looked good enough to be a movie star. Most native Californians did. Tony had once heard a theory about that. Their mothers had been the prettiest girls from cities all over the country who had come out here to break into the movies. Naturally, there weren’t enough roles for everyone, and some of the pretty would-be actresses married the handsome boys who had also come out here to break into show business. They’d had pretty babies together. Now the pretty babies had grown into a whole new generation of gorgeous young adults, and that’s why Californians were so good-looking. The whole thing sounded a little like the old story about why firemen wore red suspenders, but this girl certainly seemed to lend credence to the theory.
“I need an assortment of popcorn.” Tony looked at the display case. There were twenty-six varieties. “Uh, I guess your twelve-pack will do.”
“Certainly, sir.” The girl pulled out a carton with twelve dividers. It looked like a giant hat box. “Which flavors would you like?”
“Chocolate, butterscotch, cherry, lemon . . . what’s that blue one?”
“Blueberry, sir. It’s our new flavor of the month.”
“Okay. Throw some of that in. And make up the rest with your favorites, all except the licorice. There’s no way I can eat black popcorn.”
The girl laughed. “I know what you mean. It looks like the stuff we used to pop over the campfire. Would you like this gift wrapped, sir?”
Tony nodded, and watched the girl wrap the whole package in red cellophane and top it with a big red bow. Allison would love it. Then he handed the girl his charge card and hoped Visa hadn’t canceled it yet.
Fifteen minutes later Tony pulled into his driveway and opened the garage door. Allison’s car was parked inside, and that meant she was back from visiting her mother. He got out of his car and didn’t bother to lower the door. He couldn’t spend much time here with Allison. He had to be at the motel in less than an hour to work on the porn movie.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!”
Tony walked into the living room to find Allison sitting on the sofa, watching a talk show on television. She was dressed in a blue dress that looked new to him until he remembered that he’d given it to her for Christmas last year.
“Oh, Tony!” Allison jumped up and raced across the room to hug him. “You had Erik completely fooled with that story about visiting Mom, but I caught on right away. I knew you were planning a surprise for our anniversary. I’m so glad you didn’t forget.”
Tony thought fast. His anniversary? Uh-oh! It was a good thing he’d stopped by to pick up the popcorn.
“Of course I didn’t forget. I’ve got two presents for you this year. Unwrap the big one first.”
Tony grinned as Allison tore the cellophane off the popcorn. She looked inside the box and laughed.
“I love it! What’s that blue kind?”
“The girl said it was blueberry. They’re all labeled. Now open the box, honey. Except I’d better warn you that I have an ulterior motive for this present.”
“Hitchcock films?” Allison’s face lit up in excitement as she read the titles on the DVDs. “This looks like a complete collection. What’s the ulterior motive, darling?”
“One of the theater arts alumni called me a couple of months ago. They’re compiling information about Hitchcock for a project and I promised to make them a list of plot synopses and the names of the actresses who played Hitchcock’s female victims. They sent the DVDs by messenger this morning and, well, I don’t have time to do it. I thought maybe you might . . . ?”
“Of course I will!” Allison drew out The Trouble with Harry and gave Tony a radiant smile. “Do you think we could make copies of these before we give them back? I’ve always wanted a Hitchcock collection, and there are a couple of films here I’ve never seen.”
“That’s your present, Allison. I already arranged it with them. You can keep the DVDs when you’re through. There’s only one hitch. They’re in a real hurry for that list.”
“How much of a hurry?”
“A couple of weeks. What do you say, honey? Can you do it?”
Allison counted the DVDs and then she smiled. “Of course I can do it. I was just sitting here wishing for something to do. It’s the best anniversary present you’ve ever given me, honey. Now go open yours. It’s that little box on the table.”
Tony unwrapped the small package and grinned when he saw what was inside. It was a new lighter, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. He’d lost his last one somewhere between the parking lot and the office, and he hadn’t been able to find it.
“See that little notch? You just hold your cigarette there, and it lights automatically. I thought it would be perfect when you’re working on the computer.”
Tony got out a cigarette and tried it. It worked perfectly. Then he read the inscription and laughed.
“You light up my life? Oh, Allison, that’s terrible!”
“I know.” Allison giggled. “It was the worst pun I could think of. Do you like it?”
“I love it!” Tony swept her into his arms and kissed her. “I just wish I could take the night off so we could go somewhere fancy for dinner, but I have to get back to work. Alan’s uncle won’t cough up a contract until we do some more work on the movie.”
“It’s all right, Tony.” Allison hid her disappointment behind a smile. “Thanks to your present I have something to do. How long can you stay before you have to go back to the office?”
“I’ve got forty minutes, maybe forty-five.”
“Then I know just what we can do to celebrate!”
Allison was about to suggest they hop into bed when she remembered Tony’s failure last night. Her sexy smile faded and she raced to think of an alternative. Tony’s problem last night had been simple exhaustion, she was sure of it, but he wasn’t any more rested today. The last thing she wanted to do was risk another failure.
“You sit here and relax.” Allison dropped a kiss on the tip of Tony’s nose. “I’ll be right back with a surprise.”
It took Allison less than five minutes in the kitchen, but when she came back Tony’s eyes were closed and he was snoring softly. She almost hated to wake him, but she wanted to give him some sort of a celebration before he had to go back to work.
“Tony? Darling?”
Allison spoke softly, but Tony’s eyes opened immediately. He looked startled, then delighted to see her.
“Must’a dozed off. Sorry, honey.”
Allison smiled as she set down the platter she was carrying and let Tony pull her into his arms. After a long, wonderful moment, she pulled free.
“I made your favorite sandwiches. Bunny bread, marshmallow fluff, and chocolate sauce. And Gelson’s found that red cream soda you’re always talking about. They still make it in a couple of bottling plants in the South.”
“Honey, this looks like heaven!” Tony lifted a sandwich and took a big bite. A little of the chocolate sauce dribbled down his chin, but he caught it before it dripped on his T-shirt.
Allison picked up her own sandwich and munched. She’d cheated. Her sandwich was on Bunny Bread so it looked the same from the outside, but it had peanut butter in place of the marshmallow fluff and strawberry jam as a substitute for the chocolate sauce.
It took only a few minutes to finish their sandwiches. Then Tony picked up his bottle of red cream soda and pulled her to her feet.
“There’s an old Southern tradition with drinks like these. Yo
u have to finish the last swallow in bed.”
Allison grinned as he led her to the bedroom. “But, Tony, you’ve never even been in the South.”
“Close enough.” Tony turned her around and unzipped her dress. “We live in Southern California.”
Allison’s smile grew wider and wider as Tony undressed her. It reached radiant proportions when he took off his own clothes and joined her in bed. She’d been a silly fool to worry about sex. Tony was about to prove that they didn’t have any problems at all.
13
Sunday, July 25
Christie Jensen put on her very best smile as she spotted Mr. Brother walking up to the ticket booth. This afternoon he was dressed in blue denim, and the effect was wonderful. He looked sporty and casual, but elegant just the same. His jacket was stylishly cut and matched his pants perfectly, not like the new-looking jackets and old faded jeans most men wore. His shirt was a muted blue, and Christie realized she’d seen this particular outfit before, probably in the window of one of the exclusive men’s shops.
“Hi, Mr. Brother. I didn’t expect to see you today. We’re showing reruns.”
“I noticed that, Christie. What happened to the R’s in Rear Window?”
Mr. Brother smiled and gestured toward the marquee. The big plastic letters spelled out PEAP WINDOW—HITCHCOCK.
“Oh, that.” Christie looked apologetic. “We have a lot of trouble with the letters, Mr. Brother. They break. I heard Steve say he doesn’t have a single good R left. They’ve all turned into P’s.”
“Then you had better not screen Rope until you buy new letters. Everyone will think it’s a film about the Catholic Church.”
It took Christie a second, but she got it. She laughed and Mr. Brother smiled. Joking with him made her heart do little flip-flops under her new red sweater. Would today be the day he finally asked her for a date? She crossed the fingers of one hand and just as quickly uncrossed them again when she realized it was a ridiculously childish gesture. Mr. Brother always threw her completely off-balance, unlike the other men she dated.
