Sex, Murder and a Double Latte (34 page)

BOOK: Sex, Murder and a Double Latte
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Dena swished the wine around in her mouth before swallowing. “So I read in the paper yesterday that Donato confessed to every detail of his crimes, including the planting of the hatchet in Anatoly’s room, but he’s still refusing representation.”

“Why would he want representation?” I asked, pulling my second piece of pizza from the pie. “He’s proud of the murders he’s committed. He certainly doesn’t want anyone to try to pass them off as acts of insanity. Now he’s finally able to sign his work.”

“I still don’t get why he did it,” Mary Ann said, putting a hand delicately over her mouth to hide the food that was still in there. The busboy clearing the next table smiled shyly at her. Mary Ann was the only woman I knew who could attract men while talking with her mouth full.

Dena shook her head slightly and lifted the wine bottle to refill everyone’s glass. “For once I’m glad you don’t get it. That man was beyond sick. Let’s just be grateful that his last masterpiece was left unfinished.”

“Yeah, no shit,” I agreed. “You know DC Smooth called me last week to thank me? They let him out just in time for him to see his kid being born. Oh, and Mark Baccon should be thanking me too, since he no longer has to worry about getting the death sentence. Of course, he’ll still do time in prison for drug possession and breaking Barbie’s restraining order against him.”

Dena laughed. “You can’t ask for a neater wrap-up than that.
This
is what you should write a screenplay about, Sophie. It’s got all the ingredients: drama, violence, a little romance, and three chicks who know how to kick butt.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I drank half the contents of my refilled glass in one gulp. “There are still a few loose ends hanging around, though.”

“Such as?” Mary Ann asked.

“Well, there’s Marcus for one. He’s taking this whole thing really hard. I’ve been over at his place every day this week and he’s a mess. He’s basically spent the last fourteen days alternating between crying and vomiting.”

“Wow.” Mary Ann’s eyes widened in sympathy. “I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling. I’m surprised he agreed to meet us.”

I glanced at my watch and then at the door. “He said he was going to be here fifteen minutes ago, so maybe he changed his mind.” I shook my head in disappointment. “I told him he should see someone to help him through this.”

Dena raised an eyebrow. “You mean like a shrink?”

“Yes, I mean a shrink. He just found out that his best boy-toy was a pseudo-Nazi serial killer who tried to bludgeon his best friend with a putter. In my book, that kind of revelation is worthy of a few therapy sessions….” I looked toward the door again. “Okay, Marcus just walked in. Just don’t talk about it and try to look supportive, in case he needs to shed a few more tears.”

Dena’s and Mary Ann’s heads turned in his direction. He was wearing a perfectly fitted pair of Calvin Kleins, a beautiful khaki shirt that he had picked up with me while shopping at Armani A/X a few months back and a smile that would stop traffic.

Dena shot me a look. “Oh yeah, he looks real depressed.”

“He was!”

Marcus finally made it over to our table. “Hello, darlings.” He pulled out the empty chair next to me and gave me a breezy kiss on the cheek.

“Marcus…you seem…um…”

“Refreshingly non-suicidal?” He adjusted the rolls on his sleeves so that they displayed his forearms in a more flattering manner. “Well, I took your advice and I went out and got myself my very own shrink.”

“I gave you that advice two days ago, so you can’t have seen this guy more than once. Is he a miracle worker or something?”

“Honey, you have no idea. I met him at The Stud. He’s five-eight and has curly black hair and the most adorable wire-rimmed glasses. He got his master’s in psychology at Stanford a few years back and he’s just twenty internship hours away from getting his license. I’m telling you it was lust at first sight.”

“Marcus, that’s not what I meant.”

“Who cares what you
meant,
” Dena said. “Obviously this guy is exactly what the doctor ordered. Besides, I’ve always felt that sex therapy is underused. You’d be surprised how many problems can be solved with a good screw.”

“You said it, girlfriend.” Marcus pulled out the largest remaining slice of pizza and put it on his plate. “Daniel is very good at showing me alternative methods for dealing with my frustrations. Speaking of sex—” he shook a fork at Dena “—I read that little bit about you in the
Metro.

Mary Ann groaned, but Dena grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Can you believe it? Talk about an image change. I’ve gone from being the girl your mother warned you about to the admirable heroine who can take down serial killers. And I loved the article’s title.” She moved her hands in the air as if she were spreading out the words in front of us. “‘Thank God For Furry Handcuffs.’” She laughed. “Even I couldn’t have come up with a better headline. You know since that came out my business has doubled? Everybody wants me to show them how to properly use a whip.”

Mary Ann protested. “Some of us are trying to eat.” She flipped her curls over her shoulder and took a bite of her fourth slice. “Have you talked to Anatoly yet?”

I lowered my eyes and readjusted the napkin on my lap. “Um, no, I’ve been kind of busy.” All of the charges against Anatoly had been dropped. After the incident with Donato, my memory of what had happened the night before had become very blurred and confused. I didn’t confess to filing a false police report or anything silly like that, but it quickly became clear that I no longer made a convincing witness. I hadn’t talked to him since that night, and his silence was becoming increasingly conspicuous.

“You’re going to have to do it sometime,” Dena goaded.

“I will…I’m just waiting for…”

“For what?” Dena gave me a disdainful look. “An engraved invitation?”

“Guys don’t usually send those out to women who frame them for murder,” Marcus pointed out.

“Okay, okay, I know. The ball’s in my court.”

“So, go run with it.” Dena reached down and retrieved my purse from the floor. “We’ll take care of the check. You have another loose end that needs tying.”

 

After standing outside Anatoly’s apartment building for well over an hour, I knew exactly how many cracks were in the sidewalk in front, not to mention how long they were and how many jagged points each one had.

I bit my lip and looked up at the glass door. Maybe it wasn’t a good day to do this. Plus, I really should call first. I nodded decisively. That was it then, procrastination was definitely the way to go. I turned on my heel, determined to go home and discuss the matter with Mr. Katz.

I heard the door open and close. I didn’t have to look, I knew it was him. I could feel him glaring at me. I inhaled and turned back around. Oh yeah, that was the glare.

“Anatoly…hi. I was just finishing up a walk…”

“You’ve been standing here for an hour and a half. I could see you from my window.”

“Really? Gosh, I thought it was more like an hour and twenty minutes.” Not even a smile. “If you saw me out here, how come you didn’t come down sooner?”

“Why should I do anything to make your life easier?”

“Good point.” Okay, different approach. I clasped my hands behind my back, lowered my head a notch and peered up at him. “You look good.”

Anatoly wasn’t buying.

I sighed and threw up my hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I am. I am really and truly sorry.”

“Not good enough.”

“Oh, come on, Anatoly, can’t you give a girl a break?”

“I have a bullet wound in my arm.”

“Okay, that was bad. But, hey, it’s just a flesh wound, right? And if you wear a short-sleeved shirt, you’ll be sporting one kick-ass conversation piece. The chicks will be lining up to—”

“No one is more repulsive than a rapist, but do you know who takes a close second?”

“Donato?”

“Someone who falsely accuses a man of rape.”

“Now wait. I never accused you of rape.” I held my hand up in protest. “I told the police that you got a little aggressive during a make-out session, I backed out, you got pissed and tried to beat the shit out of me. Oh, and I said that I thought you had killed a few people, but I swear to God that was it.”

Anatoly stared at me, speechless.

“Well, that’s a little better, isn’t it?”

Anatoly shook his head. “You are the most perverted and conniving woman I have ever met.”

“Oh, now, hold on.” I strode forward until there was only a few feet between us. “I thought you were trying to kill me, and I had every reason to think so. You may not be a murderer, but you
were
stalking me. You broke into my apartment, took photos of me without my knowledge, fed me a line of bullshit about your being a contractor, and then you pulled a gun on me.”

“You were threatening me with a broken bottle.”

“Uh-huh, right. The gun didn’t just magically appear when I broke the bottle, okay? Tell me, how did you plan on explaining that one during my little seduction number, hmm? Didn’t you think I would notice that you had a concealed weapon strapped to your leg when you took off your pants?”

“I could have taken it off without your being aware of it. If we had gotten that far, you would have been distracted by what else I had hidden under my pants.”

“Oh, and what would that be, your brain? Because that’s obviously where you keep it.”

Anatoly was clenching his fist now. “I wasn’t going to go into your apartment unprotected. Last time I was there you pulled a butcher knife on me.”’

“I thought…”

“I know what you thought, and I thought you were the killer. I have never met an innocent person who was more effective at making themselves look guilty.”

“Me? I was the victim in—” I stopped myself. This was not why I had come. Yes, he was pissed, but if I was the one who had been shot and thrown in jail I might be a little ticked off too. I took a few deep breaths and tried not to grit my teeth. “I’m sorry. I know what I put you through and I can’t imagine how I could ever make it up to you. I made a huge mistake, and you suffered for it. I did come close to losing my own life because of my little blunder, so maybe you can take some comfort in that.”

Anatoly’s shoulders relaxed a little. His gaze went past me to the parked cars on the street. “The image of Donato standing over you with a golf club isn’t one that I find comforting.” His eyes shifted back to me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

I broke into a broad grin. “Well, what do you know! You do care about me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just curious—if you were a stranger I would have asked you the same question.”

“Ah, I see. I didn’t tell the papers this, but he did fracture one of my ribs.”

“He did what?” Anatoly’s jaw tightened and he clenched his hands into fists. “If I could get my hands on that son of a bitch, I’d have him begging for the lethal injection.” He looked at me with concern. “How are you now? Do you need to sit down?”

“Actually, I was just messing with you. Thanks to Dena and her S&M toys I got through the while thing without a scratch.”

By the way Anatoly was staring at me you would have thought I had grown a second head. “You really are completely insane, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Maybe, but I think I proved my point.” I leaned closer to him. “You like me.”

“At the moment I’d like to throw you into the Bay.”

I rolled my eyes. “There are easier ways to get me wet.”

Anatoly burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Actually, I can’t believe it either. I’ve been spending too much time with Dena lately.” I put a gentle finger on the spot on his arm where he had been injured. “I really am sorry about this.”

“I’ve been through worse,” he said. His expression softened as he looked into my eyes. “After our first few encounters I was ready to take you off my list of suspects. At that point I was looking forward to getting to know you on a more…personal level.” There it was, that sexy little half smile of his. “But then you forced me to reconsider. I’m glad my first instincts were correct. I’m glad you’re not a murderer.”

“I’m glad you’re not a murderer too.”

“So we can agree on something.”

I took a step closer. “So does that mean you still want to get to know me on a more personal level?”

“No.”

I laughed. “Okay, fair enough, how about on a professional level? You remember my mentioning to you that my sister thought her husband was having an affair?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, she’s decided to hire a private investigator and, considering your experience, I was hoping you could recommend somebody.”

Anatoly snorted and shook his head.

“Kidding. Really, I’d like to hire you. How much would it cost me to find out if my brother-in-law is a conniving rat?”

“For you? Six thousand for the first month’s work.”

“Six thousand? Is that how much P.I.’s make?”

“No, for the job you’re describing I usually charge less than half that, but considering all you’ve done for me, I decided to give you a special.”

“Gee, thanks.” I tried unsuccessfully to push my hair behind my ears, and took in a deep breath of the crisp clear air. “Well, it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than a civil suit. You’re hired.”

Anatoly took a step back. “For six thousand dollars?”

“You thought you priced yourself out, didn’t you.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Guess you calculated wrong, huh? Can I introduce you to my sister tomorrow?”

“I…” Anatoly seemed to be at a rare loss for words. Finally he stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky. “One o’clock at your place?”

“Sounds good.” I started to leave, but Anatoly took hold of my arm.

“I have a condition.”

“Okay.”

“If either one of you threatens me with a sharp object, I quit. No refunds.” Then he turned around and returned to his apartment.

I crossed my arms in front of me and watched until the door came to a complete close. “Oh yeah, he wants me.”

SEX, MURDER AND A DOUBLE LATTE

A Red Dress Ink novel

ISBN 1-55254-469-9

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