Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss (22 page)

“Let me go!” I yelled, reinforcing my request with a very effective backward jab of my elbow. As Scott yelped in pain I rushed from the house, into the rain. But it was too late. Anatoly was gone.

“He’ll come back,” I heard Scott call from my doorway.

“What if he doesn’t?” I asked, just loud enough to be heard.

“Well, you always have me.”

I was soaked now, but all the water in the world wouldn’t have been enough to wash away the sense of horror that last statement left me with. Slowly I turned around and reentered the house, stalking past Scott, ignoring the puddles of water I was leaving in my wake.

“I don’t know if you remember this,” Scott said, taking a step up behind me, “but I never walked out on you. Not when I was in a bad mood, not during a fight, never. If Anatoly is going to tuck his tail and run the minute there’s a conflict, maybe he’s not the right guy for you.”

“Anatoly left because it was the only way he could resist beating you to a pulp,” I said flatly. I turned to him, pulling a drenched lock of hair from my face. “And you didn’t walk out because you never allowed yourself to be pulled into a conflict that would warrant it. You changed the subject, tried to calm me down with a drink, tried to smooth it over with sex, anything but talk about what was really going on.”

“Are you trying to say you didn’t like my drinks, or…well…” He grinned and moved forward, but I put my hand up to block him.

“Go home, Scott. I’ll call you when I figure out what I want you to say to Kane.”

He reached for the hand that I had held up to impede him and kissed my palm. “All right, I’ll go. I’ve already waited ten years, so what’s another few days.”

I didn’t even bother to respond. Instead I walked him to the door, holding it wide open so there was no mistaking my message. “I do want to thank you,” I said, “for not giving me up to Kane.”

“I would never do that,” Scott said seriously.

“Mmm, well, as a token of my gratitude I’m going to share a juicy tidbit.”

“And that would be?” Scott asked, his grin back and his eyes exploring all the places where my clothes still clung to me.

“A tidbit of
information,
” I clarified. “Venus broke into my house. Remember that brooch we found in Oscar’s dead hand? She planted it or its duplicate in my bedroom and then she returned to deliver a few thinly veiled threats before taking it back. I just thought you should know that if Kane isn’t a murderer your girlfriend probably is. Good night.”

Scott’s face was the picture of shock and confusion as I shoved him out of my house and closed the door in his face. It had been one of the most trying days of my life and that was saying something. I desperately wanted Anatoly’s arms around me all night long. But something Scott had said had hit its mark. Anatoly shouldn’t have walked out. Maybe I had been right about his leaving to avoid the temptation to start a fight, but I
wanted
Anatoly to fight for me. I didn’t want him to leave me.

I went into the dining room and found Mr. Katz resting his head and front legs on my purse. “Sorry about disturbing you, but my handbag is not a pillow.”

Mr. Katz glared.

“Be nice,” I said as I gently pulled my purse out from under him. “I need a friend right now.”

At that Mr. Katz turned around and left the room. Well, if I couldn’t count on my guys, I would just have to turn to my girls. I pulled my cell out from my bag, dialed Dena’s number and waited.

“Hey, Sophie, good timing,” she said upon picking up. “I just finished untying Kim from the bed.”

“Does he have rope burns?” I asked.

“No, I used satin ropes.”

“Satin ropes?” I paused for a moment, marveling at how Dena could make a good knot with a fabric that slippery. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me about Jason anymore? I was going to tell you that he was in the Specter Society. It’s just been so crazy lately,” I said, not bothering to note what a huge understatement that was.

Dena sighed heavily. “I’m the only one I can legitimately be mad at.”

“Why?” I asked, surprised.

“Hold on a second,” Dena instructed. I heard her muffled voice tell Kim that she would be right back, then the sound of a door closing. “I’ve missed him,” she said into the phone.

“Who?”

“Jason, you idiot. I’ve been thinking about him. I’ve been thinking about him a lot.”

“Seriously!” Mr. Katz reentered the dining room and disappeared again into the kitchen, his determined gait an unmistakable indicator of the hunger that was driving him. “How long has this been going on?” I asked, following my pet. “Days? Weeks?”

“Since the very moment I broke up with him. Can you believe that? I’m breaking my own cardinal rule!”

“The one about loving and leaving?” I asked as I reached for a new can of gourmet kitty food.

“Lusting,”
Dena corrected. “Lusting and leaving…or actually, lusting, satisfying and leaving. That’s the order it’s supposed to go in. I love my friends. My men are supposed to be disposable.”

“But Jason isn’t, huh?” I felt myself relaxing. Clearly Dena was having an emotional crisis. It was nice to know I wasn’t the only one. Mr. Katz nudged my ankle to remind me of the task at hand.

“He’s so different,” she said irritably. “He doesn’t conform at all and he’s seriously kinky. I mean, that guy taught
me
things.”

“No way!” I shoveled out some stinky brown stuff into the food bowl and left Mr. Katz to his meal as I hopped up on the kitchen counter. “So why don’t you go for it? I know you’re a commitmentphobe, but…”

“I am not a commitmentphobe. I just don’t believe in commitment, that’s all.”

“And the difference is?”

“I don’t believe there’s a multitude of gods, but that doesn’t make me afraid of Hindus. That’s the difference. I don’t believe, but I’m not afraid.”

“Because you’re not afraid of
anything?
”

“I’m a little creeped out by acid-wash jeans and neon nail polish, but that’s it.”

“Dena?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re full of it. You’re scared to death. You are always in control, and I mean
always.
But if you let yourself get involved with some guy you actually care about all that control goes bye-bye. Then you’ll be doing the
does-he-love-me-does-he-not
just like the rest of us.”

“Wrong! I know Jason loves me. He told me so, right before I kicked him to the curb.”

“No, you didn’t! Dena, how could you be so mean?”

“Because the other option was to tell him I loved him, too.”

This was enough to shock me into silence. Dena was in love…with a vampire named Jason. I peered out my sliding glass door half expecting to spot a pig flying through the air.

“Dena,” I finally said, “it’s been years since you’ve seen Jason, and if he’s been on your mind all this time…well, that’s something. I mean, you’ve dated how many men? And he’s the first one to get to you?”

“Well…”

“There have been others!” I shouted. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“There haven’t
been
others. There
is an
other. I’m really digging Kim.”

“What!”

“Not in the same way I dig Jason, but Kim is so much damn fun. And he’s open to everything. You know how cynical Jason is about our puritanical society. I like that about him. But I also like that Kim’s not cynical and he’s completely unaffected. He actually gets giddy about new experiences! He’s like a kid at the circus for the first time.”

“And you’re the freak show?”

“You better fucking believe it. The freaks are the only cool people in the circus. Or at least they used to be before the PC Police made the circuses stop featuring them.”

“How do you mean?”

“See, clowns and animal trainers join the circus because they want to run away from something. That’s why they say,
he ran off and joined the circus.
But when freaks joined the circus they were making a statement. They were saying,
yeah, I’m different, now watch me capitalize on that!
They showed off their abnormalities like a badge of honor that everyone else was privileged to see. Those are my kind of people and Kim gets that. He likes me freaky.”

“It’s hard to imagine you any other way,” I admitted truthfully.

“So the bottom line is that I’m not ready to give up Kim. I know what we have can’t be permanent because I don’t do permanent, but it definitely hasn’t run its course, either. And even if it had, I couldn’t have an exclusive relationship with Jason. If I can’t have my rainbow coalition of studs I’ll lose it.”

“So if I’m hearing you right, you’re going to continue to blow off Jason, the first man you ever loved, because you don’t want to give up your Dick of the Month Club.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t get self-righteous with me. Your entire life story consists of one questionable decision after another. At least my decision here has to do with physical reality.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I have a massive libido that craves diversity. It was programmed into my DNA. I’m not going to neglect that for a love affair with some guy who used to wear velvet pants!”

Mr. Katz swished his tail, his way of telling me Dena had a point. I’ve always wondered if she wouldn’t be better off if she settled down a bit, but should I really be pushing her to commit to Mr. Velvet-Pants?

“If you don’t think Jason will fit well into your life, then don’t fit him in,” I said. “You’re the judge on this.”

“Damn right I am. I’m moving on like I always do and Jason needs to be a man and do the same.”

“I think he may be on his way to doing that. There’s another Specter Society member named Amelia. She works in a flower shop south of Market. There are definitely sparks between Jason and her.”

“Oh…that’s good,” Dena said haltingly. “Let him be someone else’s problem.” She hesitated before asking, “What flower shop does she work for?”

“O’Keefe’s, why?”

“No reason.” I heard a man’s voice in the background. “Wait, I’ll show you,” Dena called out. “Kim’s found my rubber ducky vibrator. He wants to know how it works.”

“You can’t put a rubber ducky up there!” I gasped. “It couldn’t possibly fit!”

“Not a dildo, a vibrator. You hold it against you and his little beak massages your—”

“I don’t want to know,” I said quickly.

“Suit yourself, but you don’t know what you’re missing. Speaking of which, what am
I
missing? We’ve spent this whole phone call on me and my issues. What’s up with your new digs and all that?”

There was so much to tell, but suddenly the timing seemed all wrong. How could I burden her with my issues when Kim had just taken possession of her ducky? “Everything going fine,” I said.

“Lying.”

“Yes, but I’m not going to talk about it tonight.”

“Right. I’ll call you tomorrow then?”

“Sounds like a plan. Have fun with your duck.”

“How could I not?”

I hung up and stared at my cat, who was still busily lapping up his mystery meat. “Dena ties busboys to the bed,” I said.

Mr. Katz swished his tail again as if to say,
this is news?

It wasn’t news, of course, and that’s why I had clung to that part of the conversation and pushed aside the rest. Dena was changing, I was changing, my place of residence was changing. It was just nice to know that there were some things that stayed the same.

But I wasn’t able to linger on that thought because suddenly there were footsteps upstairs. One after another, I heard them make their way down the hall.

At least I thought I did…could it be the storm? A tree knocking against a wall or something?

I heard it again. It certainly
sounded
like footsteps. I reached down to the drawer that lay behind my dangling legs and pulled out a carving knife. Much better than a plunger. I got to my feet and dialed 911 on my cell. My finger rested lightly on the send button as I slowly made my way out of the kitchen, through the dining room and living room and then up the stairs.

I turned on the hall light when I got to the second floor. Nothing there. I took a few steps forward and the light went out. I told myself it had to be a short, but my pulse picked up speed anyway. This was so different from when I had followed Mr. Katz down the stairs accompanied by the scent of strawberry lip gloss. I had been oddly calm then, nothing about the experience had alarmed me…not until I had heard the footsteps. Plus this time Anatoly wasn’t here. He couldn’t claim that the sound had come from him.

I held the knife in front of me. I had always liked this knife. I had used it to cut through the flesh of many a chicken without having to apply much pressure at all.

The lights inexplicably went back on. Still nothing there. Again I checked each room. Again, I checked under my bed. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

“I am alone in the house,” I said, as if hearing the words would help me believe them.

Mr. Katz entered my bedroom doorway and blinked at me, reminding me that
alone
was a relative term. I sighed and sat down on my bed and Mr. Katz jumped up next to me, nuzzling my arm that held the knife. I could be holding a bazooka and Mr. Katz would still see me as nothing more than a source of cuddles and food.

I sat there with him for over an hour, but there were no more footsteps and no more blinking lights. Just me and my cat, and eventually I gave in to my exhaustion and went to sleep.

My knife and my cell phone both were within easy reach.

19

I’m very good at reading people. The only person I know who I haven’t really figured out yet is…me.

—
The Lighter Side of Death

THE NEXT MORNING, I WOKE UP, THINKING OF SUTRO HEIGHTS. I THINK I
had dreamt about it, but I couldn’t be sure of that. Perhaps it had been recent events that had placed the images of long-passed family picnics in my head. My father used to bring bottles of bubbles on those picnics. Dad had been one of those people who could blow a bubble inside a bubble using both big and small wands and broad strokes of his hand. They would land on the grass, resisting the initial pierce of the individual blades and Leah and I would count the seconds until they popped, always wondering how something that looked so fragile could be so strong.

Those moments hadn’t seemed important at the time they happened. It’s funny how death can give weight to what was once trivial.

I stretched my arms above my head…and that’s when I saw the knife, placed carefully on my bedside table next to my cell phone that still had the numbers 911 on its screen. The noises of the night before…for a brief moment I had forgotten about them. But they had just been noises, most likely of the storm. If it had been otherwise, I would have had to use that knife.

Still…it had
really
sounded like footsteps.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, already thinking about the coffee I was about to make myself. And then my cell rang. No one I was close to would call at this hour. I leaned over to check the caller ID. Maria Risso. I considered this as my phone danced around my bedside table. Maria was the kind of person who would be difficult to deal with before the intake of caffeine. But God only knew if I’d be able to reach her later, so reluctantly, I picked up.

“Sophia?” she asked.

“Sophie.”

“Of course, Sophie.” She paused as if uncertain on how to proceed. “I met with Magnum yesterday, about the case.”

“He told me,” I said.

“But I didn’t tell
him
that I spoke to
you.
Friends must never give away one another’s secrets.”

I smiled at her lack of subtlety. “I haven’t told anyone about our conversation, either,” I assured her.

“Because we’re friends,” Maria pressed.

“Mmm.” It was the only answer she was going to get on that question because the most honest answer was no. I didn’t know Maria and I hadn’t fully made up my mind if I liked her or not.

“Would you like to have breakfast with me, Sophie?”

Another easy no. But she knew Kane and maybe she had some information that could help me beat him. “Where shall I meet you?” I asked.

I could almost feel Maria’s smile on the other end of the line. “You’ve been to Mama’s?”

“Washington Square, North Beach. They’re closed on Mondays.”

“Oh, of course.” I waited as she came up with another option. “Zazie!” she proclaimed. “That’s right around the corner from you, you could walk.”

“Zazie, then,” I said, rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn. At least that would give me some extra time to wake up as she made the journey from the Embarcadero to Cole Street.

“Wonderful, I’ll be there by 9:30 a.m. I…I want to thank you, Sophie. I need to get out today. I need to rejoin the world, but I’m having such a hard time of it.”

“Not a problem,” I said guiltily. “It’ll be fun.” I hung up and looked at Mr. Katz, who was swishing his tail at me like a wagging finger.

“I know,” I moaned. “She’s a mess and I’m using her. I’m a horrible person.”

Mr. Katz blinked in agreement before jumping off the bed and leaving me to my shame. With another sigh I got out of bed and got myself ready for breakfast.

I got to Zazie at 9:30 a.m. on the button, but Maria was already there. She waved to me from her small brown table pressed against a brick wall. She was wearing a long-sleeved, cowl-necked jersey dress with exquisite draping and absolutely no jewelry. The camel color of the fabric perfectly complemented her tan skin. Two glasses of ice water and menus adorned the table along with the standard condiment tray and utensils.

“How long have you been here?” I asked as I slid into the seat opposite her.

“Twenty minutes.” We could hear the various noises from the semiexposed kitchen and the conversations around us rose slightly so that the words blended together into a cheery roar.

“I was ready to go when I called you,” Maria went on. “I was planning to go out by myself, but…” She shook her head. “I wish I hadn’t found him. I think I could cope better if I hadn’t seen him…like that.”

“I’m thinking maybe we shouldn’t talk about this before we eat,” I said as I carefully unfolded the napkin in my lap. “Have you ordered?”

As if in answer to my question our waitress appeared at our table. “Welcome!” she said, her dark brown ponytail bobbing as she talked. “Can I get you something to drink while you two look over the menu?”

“OJ and coffee,” I said with a smile and then turned back to the menu as she went to fill my request.

“I love this neighborhood,” Maria said wistfully. “And I’ve always loved that old house of Oscar’s. I’m rather amazed that Kane sold it so quickly. I wasn’t at all sure he’d let it go.”

I made my food selection and snapped my menu shut. “How long have you known Kane?”

“Years. Oscar and Enrico were friends.”

I let my eyes drop to the mint-and-white-checkered floor. “Kane is an interesting guy.”

Maria laughed. “One of the things I love about the English language is its euphemisms. Yes, Kane is…shall we say, a
horribly
interesting man. He has a darkness about him that is positively foreboding, but I can’t say I dislike him.”

“Yeah? What is it that appeals to you about him?”

She shrugged. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. It’s one of my favorite expressions.”

“Who was the common enemy? Enrico? Not that Enrico was exactly your enemy,” I added quickly, “but during a divorce…”

Maria waved off my stammering. “Kane knew Enrico wasn’t a believer even though Enrico said otherwise. So Kane wanted him out of the Specter Society. But Enrico wasn’t really Kane’s enemy. Venus was. If Kane is dark and foreboding then Venus is a black hole. I personally can’t stand the bitch.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, instantly warming to Maria. The waitress chose this moment to come back with my drinks and Maria and I quickly gave our orders: Eggs Fontainbleu for her and gingerbread pancakes for me.

“She is one of those people who liked Enrico’s fame,” she said once we were alone again. “She used to be reasonably nice to me, but as soon as she realized that my marriage was in trouble she never missed an opportunity to be condescending. The only person I think she’s ever had any genuine fondness for is Scott.”

“That won’t last,” I said confidently as I poured a packet of Splenda into my coffee. “Scott’s not all that into her. He’s made that pretty clear. Eventually he’ll leave her or he’ll do something to piss Venus off enough to throw him out.”

“It would take a lot to get Venus to throw Scott out. He’s already cheated on her. Everyone knows it. But still, she keeps him. She paid off all his debt, and from what I understand it was a considerable amount. But you’re right about Scott eventually leaving. From all accounts he’s making a very good living as a Realtor these days and now with his debt taken care of, the incentives to stay are dwindling. He’d probably be gone already if she didn’t keep buying him cars and other trinkets.”

“Why do you think she likes him so much?” I asked, although I had an inkling. Scott could be incredibly charming and he had this vitality to him that was kind of addictive, like a drug. Problem is when you’ve had too much of any drug it makes you sick.

“Scott has his charms,” Maria said, as if reading my thoughts. “But I believe the main reason Venus is so attached to him is merely because he’s still there. She has difficulty hanging on to her men. I imagine she’s impossible to live with, and there are other problems. I overheard one of her previous lovers complain about her modesty in regards to sex.”

“Venus is modest?” I asked. I had a hard time believing that.

“In the bedroom, missionary position, lights out. That’s what he said. Although I also overheard him say she knows how to give a good blow job.”

I squeezed my eyes closed against the image and tried to redirect the conversation. “So Kane has always hated Venus?”

“Always. Venus believes in ghosts, but will sacrifice a successful séance for a celebrity guest like Enrico. Kane doesn’t care about the guest list. He just wants to talk to the dead. He’s very single-minded that way. When Venus convinced…or should I say
intimidated
everyone into keeping Enrico as a Specter Society member and throwing me out, Lorna and Kane came to my defense. At first to no avail and then, something happened.”

“What?”

“I don’t exactly know. Kane called me and said he had discovered one of Venus’s secrets and if she wanted him to help her keep it she was going to have to do what she was told. The first thing he told her to do was let me back into the Specter Society.”

“But when you came to my séance…”

“You weren’t told to invite me,” Maria said coolly. “Yes, my readmittance was short-lived. Somehow Venus got the upper hand again. Don’t ask me how, but Kane called and told me I couldn’t come anymore. He clearly didn’t want it to be that way, but he said he no longer had any leverage.” She rapped her French manicured nails against the table. “With Kane I do believe it’s always about leverage.”

I nodded. So Kane once had leverage over Venus and she found a way of turning it around. As much as I hated to admit this, Venus had something to teach me. I took a sip of my orange juice. It was fresh squeezed and totally fantastic. “Do you come here a lot?” I asked.

“Not a lot. Never before on a weekday morning. I’m usually at work at this time.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you worked.”

“You didn’t think I was the type,” she said matter-of-factly. “You imagined that I wrapped myself in the security of Enrico’s hard-earned fortune while I set my mind to more amusing pursuits.”

“No…I mean…well…”

“It’s all right. I love nothing more than being underestimated. When Enrico met me, I was a tour guide in Salerno. My childhood friend, Giovanni, was my partner. I had never traveled farther than France, but I did speak English, the Queen’s English. And I can speak French, too, and Spanish and enough German to get by, although I hate the language. It lacks…whimsy.”

I sat back in my chair. “I’m having a hard time believing that English is your second language or even that you learned to speak with a British accent. You sound like you could have been born right here in the city.”

“I find that the only way to truly know a language is to study its poetry and its lyrics. From those, you can learn the language’s nuance and humor in a way that you could never get from a textbook.”

Maria glanced up at the framed French art deco poster hung against the exposed brick wall. Her eyes lingered on the foreign words that the artist had included to explain the scene. “I love words. And accents, I adore accents. Each has its own unique taste and texture. I’m obsessed with them in a way. So it was only natural that I would start a business that played into that. I’m a translation service provider.”

“Really?” I asked. Maria was becoming more impressive by the second.

“I have a staff of linguists and some very powerful clients. Fortune 500 companies, law firms, and I usually have at least one government contract at any given time…or at least I used to.”

“The investigation into Enrico’s murder has probably put a damper on that,” I noted.

“Yes. At first I worried that he would haunt me, but he doesn’t need to. The nature of his death has made him victorious.”

“How exactly is Enrico victorious now?” I asked. “He is dead, after all.”

Maria’s painted red lips drew up into a forced smile. “Yes, he’s dead and I’m alive, so I suppose that makes me better off. That’s easy to forget these days.” She looked down at her ice water and drew a circle in the moisture that clung to the outside of the glass. “The police came to visit me last night. This afternoon I will be meeting with a lawyer.”

“If they haven’t arrested you they must not think they have a very strong case.”
Yet,
I added silently. But Maria seemed to hear the unspoken qualification. It hung over our table like a bad odor.

“I’m not scared,” Maria insisted. “Not like I was in Italy. Giovanni got involved with some people who, as the Italians say, had their hands in the pasta.”

“Hands in the pasta? Is that some kind of sexual innuendo?”

Maria laughed. “No, we don’t have as many clever sexual innuendos in Italian as you do in English. We prefer our sexuality to be more explicit. To have your hands in the pasta means that you are involved with the mafia.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “How the hell does a tour guide manage to get mixed up in something like that?”

Maria gave me a withering look. “Incredibly easily. The mafia’s influence in the south of Italy is enormous. Whether you’re a small business or a large company with multinational ambitions, you simply must give the mafia a percentage or pay a horrible price. A few years ago the police tried to rein it in, but more often than not the government has looked the other way.”

“Okay,” I said, “so your partner got involved with the Godfather. If everyone does it then why was it so scary?”

“Because Giovanni did something to make them mad.”

“Oh. That’s not good.”

“No, it’s very, very bad, and I was right there in the cross fire. The fear was paralyzing. I was like a child looking for someone to take care of me. And then Enrico walked into my office, brochure in hand, ready to see the Greek temples at Paestum. He was a true American success story. I showed him everything there was to see and by the end of the tour he had me in his arms. He didn’t mind that I was so vulnerable. He said it made me alluring.”