Finally, she whispered, “Yes.”
“How did you find out . . . if you don’t mind me asking, of course.”
“I saw it on the news. Like almost everyone else, I suppose. Lucinda didn’t have contact with many people. She’d lost almost everyone who ever meant anything to her.”
“Including you, and I don’t blame you,” Savannah said softly.
She could tell Delores was taken aback by the gentle reply, but she quickly recovered herself and charged ahead. “If you can say that, then you must know the circumstances under which our friendship ended. Therefore, I’ll tell you again. You have a lot of audacity coming here to talk to me about something as personal and painful as that.”
“Actually, you said ‘nerve’ the first time, not ‘audacity,’ but you’re absolutely right. I have a lot of both. As, I suspect, do you. I think a woman has to have more than her share to get by in this world, don’t you?”
Again, Delores seemed shaken. Savannah could tell. Under different circumstances, Savannah believed Delores might have actually liked her. Kindred spirits, and all that.
As Savannah was waiting for Delores to decide whether to slug her or have a conversation with her, the cell phone in Savannah’s jacket pocket began to play the frantic, annoying little tune she had chosen for Dirk.
“Don’t worry. I won’t answer it,” she told Delores, who was still standing less than a yard away from her, glowering down at her. “This is too important for us to be interrupted.”
The cell phone finally quit, but the two women still stared at each other, waiting.
Only a few seconds later, the phone began again. Two calls in a row, one right after the other. That was her and Dirk’s code for: This is serious! Pick up!
“I’m sorry, Delores,” she said, reaching inside her pocket. “Apparently, it’s important. I’ll only be a minute.”
Before the other woman could reply, Savannah answered with, “Yes, Detective Sergeant Coulter. How can I help you?”
“Are you still intending to drop in on that Dinapoli gal?” he asked.
“No, sir, I’m in Malibu with a Mrs. Delores Dinapoli. How can I help you?”
“Oh, gotcha,” he replied. “Well, watch yourself with her. She could be dangerous.”
“Just a pleasant conversation about the case you and I are both working on. She’s most cooperative.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet she is. I wanted you to know that Ryan and John just called me from the mansion. They found two boxes of letters in the heap. One’s full of love letters from that gal’s husband to Lucinda. Over-the-top gushy stuff. The second’s stuffed with some of the nastiest threatening letters you’ll ever read, and they’re from that gal there.”
“Yes, I told her you’ll be wanting to question her. She’ll be happy to speak with you, sir, I’m sure.”
“Watch her close, Van. Anybody who’d even write the sick crap that’s in those letters is nuts.”
“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do that, Detective. Anything Ms. Dinapoli tells me is confidential. If you want to know anything about her and Ms. Faraday, you’ll have to question her yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get outta there as quick as you can and call me the minute you’re on the road.”
“I’m sorry, Detective Coulter, but that’s my position. Good-bye.”
As soon as she replaced the phone in her pocket, Delores walked over to a chair and sat down. “Okay, what do you want to know?” she asked.
“Please tell me when you last communicated in any way with Ms. Faraday.”
“It will be fifteen years ago on the tenth of June. That’s when I told the woman I loved like a mother that she had broken my heart and shattered my life. That was the day when I lost the two most important people in my life—my husband and my best friend. I’m not likely to ever forget that day.”
“No, I’m sure you won’t. There is no pain quite like betrayal, and that has to be one of the worst kinds.”
Delores studied her for a long time, then asked, “Has it happened to you?”
“Yes.”
“A husband?”
“A fiancé.”
“Did he do it with your best friend?”
“Three of them.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. He was stupid. Couldn’t figure out how to close a zipper.”
They both laughed. A little.
Delores picked up a pack of cigarettes from a nearby table. She removed one and offered it to Savannah. When Savannah shook her head, Delores lit up, her fingers fumbling with the lighter.
Once she’d drawn several long drags, she asked, “Did you leave him?”
“Moved to the other side of the country. If I’d gone any farther, I’d have fallen into the ocean.”
“I hear you.”
“I gather you divorced yours.”
“Naw.” She released the smoke slowly from her nose.
“Oh?” Savannah couldn’t hide her surprise. Delores didn’t seem like a woman who would continue to cohabitate with an adulterous husband.
“He fell down a staircase. Broke his neck.” She grinned. “Oh, darn.”
Their eyes met, and a shiver ran through Savannah, colder than she could recall feeling in a long time.
“Oh. Wow,” was all she could manage.
Delores’s weird smile was as chilling as her strange gold eyes. “You asked when I last communicated with Lucinda, and I told you. Now, ask me when I last communicated with that worthless jackass of a great-grandson of hers.”
Savannah felt her pulse rate jump. “Oo-kay. When did you last communicate with dear, darlin’ Geoffrey?”
Again, the cold, creepy smirk. More smoke pouring out of her nostrils. “Yesterday.”
Chapter 23
The instant Savannah pulled onto the Pacific Coast Highway, she used her hands-free car phone to call Dirk.
He answered with a breathless, “Are you outta there?”
“Yeah, safe and sound. But that woman is one creepy freak-o and a half. She’s got me thinking she might’ve even murdered her own husband.”
“We can check into that later. Did she kill Lucinda?”
“I’m honestly not sure. But she told me something you’ve just got to hear.”
“Okay, lay it on me.”
Savannah was so excited that she had to concentrate and remind herself that she was driving. The Pacific Coast Highway was beautiful, but it was dangerous, too. The sharp curves were fairly unforgiving, especially to someone who didn’t travel it every day and hadn’t memorized every twist and turn.
She drew a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it. Then she said, “Geoffrey Faraday is blackmailing Delores Dinapoli.”
“Get outta here!”
“I’m not messing with you. That’s what she told me. Showed me the e-mails and everything.”
“What’s he got on her?”
“What he’s got is his great-grandmother’s tell-all manuscript, the book that Mary told us about. The one she said Lucinda was working on for years. Her autobiography, including all the craziness back in the good old days.”
“Let me guess,” Dirk said. “There’s a chapter in there on the Lucinda-Dino affair?”
She laughed. “Did I ever tell you that I married you because you’re smart?”
She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “You never mentioned it before. But I’m glad you finally came to that conclusion.”
“Oh, that’s not why I married you, darlin’. I just wondered if I ever told you that.”
“Smart-ass. I want to hear more about this blackmail scheme of Geoffrey’s. How did he contact her? How much did he ask for?”
“Like I said, with an e-mail. She showed it to me. He even scanned the pages of the chapter that talked about them. She let me read them. They weren’t very complimentary to either Delores or Dino.”
“In what ways?”
“Lucinda called Delores a frigid witch who neglected
her husband, physically and emotionally, and she wrote something about Dino’s dicky-doo being ‘dinky’ and ‘stinky.’”
“O-o-o-o, brutal!”
“He wants half a million for the manuscript.”
“Does she have any intention of paying him for it?”
“No way. I got the idea she’s been called a frigid witch and worse a few times already and doesn’t mind that much. I also have a feeling she pushed ol’ Dino down a staircase and broke his neck, so I doubt that she cares if someone says she neglected him or if they denigrate his wiener.”
She could almost hear the wheels in his head spinning, as hers had been for the last half hour.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s the plan. I’m going over to Geoffrey’s house—or should I say his mousy little fiancée’s rental—and ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing.”
“He’ll deny it.”
“Of course he will. But I can get a read on him, and I can shake him up, letting him know that I’m onto him.”
“Sounds doable. Want company?”
“I want you. Always. Even if you don’t think I’m smart.”
“Oh, you misunderstood me. I think you’re brilliant. But that’s not why I married you.”
She heard him chuckle and the deep sound went right through her. “Tell me why,” he said, “my good looks, my charm, my impeccable table manners.”
“Certainly not the latter.”
“Then what?”
“Many reasons. Lawn maintenance. Cleo likes you. Granny adores you. You set the garbage cans out on the curb every Thursday.”
“Gee, I can feel my head swelling by the minute.”
“But mostly, I married you for your not-at-all-dinky, never-the-least-bit-stinky dicky-doo.”
“Yay! I knew it!”
She ended the call and continued to maneuver the treacherous curves of the Pacific Coast Highway, still enjoying the beautiful view, still proud of herself for taking a chance and moving to California.
But mostly she was glad she had married Dirk—a guy who was so easy that one silly little joke could set his world right.
“Easy” was good. Almost as good as “peace.”
* * *
Savannah and Dirk rendezvoused at a corner, a block away from Geoffrey and Brooklynn’s house, then drove the rest of the way in the Buick.
When they got out and walked up the sidewalk, both were too excited to even speak.
At the door, he gave his customary Papa Bear knock.
Savannah could feel her heart pounding as they waited. As usual, under stressful circumstances, she found herself thinking the silliest things. Like: Will Geoffrey be wearing a different amazing suit, or does he wear the other one all the time? Even to bed? Will Brooklynn have washed her hair yet? For cryin’ out loud, stop it! What are you, the Queen of Stupid Questions?
The moment the door opened, one of those questions was answered instantly.
No, poor Brooklynn hadn’t washed her hair or changed out of her pink teddy bear pajamas.
Savannah couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Depression was a hideous disease, as evidenced by the woman standing in the doorway.
“Hello again,” Dirk said with more congeniality than Savannah had expected. “Is Geoffrey at home?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“At work.”
Dirk gave Savannah a quick sideways look. “Where’s work?” he asked.
“He has a job now. An important job, and he makes a lot of money.”
Seeing that Dirk wasn’t getting anywhere fast, Savannah decided to give it a try. “Have you ever been to this place where he works, Brooklynn?” she asked with as much patience as she could muster.
“We drove by it once. I didn’t go in, but I saw it.”
“Was there a sign on the building?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
“City Hall.”
Again, Savannah and Dirk exchanged looks. Sure. Geoffrey Faraday, ex-con, was now working at San Carmelita’s City Hall, performing some important job that paid megabucks. Enough to buy diamond-encrusted watches and top-of-the-line Porsches.
And if frogs had wings, Savannah thought, they wouldn’t bump their little butts when they hop.
“May we come inside, Brooklynn?” Savannah asked. “We’d just like to talk to you for a minute. No big deal.”
Brooklynn looked back over her shoulder at the living room behind her. “The place is kinda messy. The girl who comes in to clean forgot to come this week.”
“Don’t you just hate it when that happens?” Dirk said as he opened the screen door.
His body language said he was coming through, so she stepped back and allowed them to enter.
Once inside, Savannah could tell that Dirk was anxious to get down to serious business before Geoffrey appeared. Finding him gone was a stroke of luck that just might pay off handsomely.
Brooklynn started to clear the debris off the sofa, when Dirk said, “Oh, don’t bother with that, ma’am. We’re not gonna stay long if Geoffrey’s not here. It’s just that we need a certain item, and we think Geoffrey might have it. I was going to ask if I could borrow it from him.”
“Oh, right. Hm-m-m.” She glanced around and said, “If you tell me what it is, and I know where it is, maybe I could get it for you.”
“Sure.” Dirk brightened considerably. “It’s a stack of papers. A manuscript. Does that ring a bell?”
She thought it over but looked confused. “Not really.”
“It might be in a box,” Savannah offered. “Or some kind of manila folder, or . . .”
“No. I haven’t noticed anything like that lying around.”
Dirk pasted on his sweetest, most benign smile. “Would you mind if I just looked around a bit? I wouldn’t ask, but like I said, it’s really important, and I’m super busy today. It’d be great if we don’t have to wait until Geoffrey comes home.”
Again, she glanced around at the clutter and looked embarrassed. “I don’t mind if you look around,” she said. “As long as you don’t yell at me about the mess. Geoffrey always yells at me about the mess, but he never picks up anything himself. Just drops stuff wherever he wants and leaves it.”
“Men!” Savannah said with a laugh that sounded fake even to her. “They’ll leave their sunglasses in the toaster oven and their socks in the freezer if you don’t watch them every second.”
She shot a Get-on-With-It look at Dirk.
The legal renter, whose name was on the lease, had just given him permission to search the place.
This is no time to let moss grow on your backside, she thought, giving him a knowing nod toward the bedroom.
“If you can just find that manuscript,” she told him, “we can get out of here and leave this poor woman alone. I’m sure she has other things to do than chat with us.”
Brooklynn shrugged. “Not really. My show’s coming on in half an hour, but until then, you’re welcome to hang out and do whatever you need to do.”
“Oh, then maybe I’ll help Detective Coulter search, if that’s okay with you,” Savannah said.
“Sure. Whatever. Do what you gotta do.”
Savannah turned to Dirk. “What the heck, Sarge. Let’s do what we gotta do.”
They both headed into the bedroom. No time to waste. The master of the house might come home at any moment, and for all they knew, the lady of the house might come to her senses.
Heaven forbid.
* * *
When Savannah and Dirk emerged from the bedroom Savannah was carrying a small silver laptop, and Dirk had a bright red leather satchel under his arm.
Brooklynn was lying on the laundry on the sofa, her feet up on its arm, watching a soap opera. She smiled when she saw them. “Oh, you found something! Is it what you were looking for? The manuscript?”
“Yes. It’s here in this.” Dirk held up the satchel.
“Oh, right! That thing! I didn’
t know what was in that, but Geoffrey brought it home the other day. I think it’s new. He’s been buying so much stuff lately. He likes nice things.”
Instantly alert, Dirk said, “He brought this home the other day? Which other day, exactly?”
“Um . . .” She squinted her eyes, thinking. “It was the same day you came by here to tell us about poor Great-Grandma Lucinda’s passing. He was gone for a while. When he got back home he had that with him. He took it into the bedroom. I didn’t know there was a manuscript in it, or I would have told you about it. Where did you find it?”
“Between the headboard and the wall,” Savannah told her.
“Really? What a weird place to put it. That Geoffrey!”
“Yes. That Geoffrey.” Savannah tried to laugh with her, but it was all just too strange.
“We’re leaving now,” Dirk said, heading for the door, his prize under his arm.
“Tell him we said hi. That we’re so proud he landed that important job at City Hall,” Savannah added. “Maybe you can put some of that money he’s making toward the wedding or a nice honeymoon.”
Brooklynn smiled broadly and pranced across the room toward them, her hand held out. “That’s done taken care of,” she said. “The deed is done!”
It took Savannah a while to notice that there was a tiny, modest band next to the equally nondescript engagement ring. Not that there was anything wrong with inexpensive wedding sets, but a guy who wore a diamond-studded platinum watch and gold designer cuff links should have done better, in her humble opinion.
However, the bride seemed thrilled, so who was she to judge?
For some reason, Savannah recalled how many abused women had told her that the real mistreatment had begun right after they’d said, “I do.” Sometimes, the first blows were struck on the actual honeymoon.
She looked down at the PC she was holding and was pretty sure it was Geoffrey’s. It was a high-ticket model. Brooklynn wouldn’t have owned anything so expensive.
She thought about how Geoffrey was going to react when he came home and realized they had come and taken his property without a warrant. If he found out Brooklynn had given Dirk permission to search . . .
Savannah handed the laptop to Dirk, reached into her purse, and pulled out one of her cards. When she handed it to the woman, she said, “Brooklynn, I hope you never need this. But if you ever find yourself in any trouble. Any kind of trouble. With anybody. Like maybe even Geoffrey. Promise me you’ll call me. I can help you. Detective Coulter can help you, too, and we will. Okay?”
And the Killer Is . . . Page 20
