Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights (37 page)

BOOK: Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights
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“They must have had
some
. Three years ago one of Bob’s subordinates was caught embezzling money. Bob told me she had taken the money to help her mother with some medical problem and had been secretly paying it back in small installments over a period of several months. James found out and just threw the book at her. It was horrible—she was arrested on Halloween. Her husband and kids were left waiting for her to come home to trick-or-treat with them.”

“Which would make Taylor all the more desperate to avoid being caught.” I looked down just in time to see Jack force the toy mouse between the blades of my blinds. I winced but couldn’t find the emotional energy to stop him. As long as he wasn’t physically torturing me or my cat, I was okay.

Leah stifled a yawn. “This whole thing just gets more and more confusing.”

“Are you as tired as I am?” I asked.

She nodded ruefully. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I was up all night talking to Tina.”

“Tina?”

“That call girl I told you about.”

I did a quick double take. “
You
spent the night chitchatting with a prostitute?”

“You act like you’ve never talked to a hooker before,” Leah noted. “You used to go out with that Mitchell Brothers dancer all the time in college.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s me and you’re…you.”

“Normally I would agree with you, but as it turns out, Tina and I have a lot in common.”

“And we’re not just talking about highlights?”

“No, we’re not just talking about highlights. Tina and I are both mothers, we’re both single, we both cheated while on the South Beach Diet, and we both know what it’s like to have the man you’re most committed to be unfaithful. The only real difference is that the person who betrayed me was my husband and her significant other was her pimp.”

“Okay, your exhaustion has obviously led to delirium. I only wish I was recording this conversation so I could play it back to you when you’re back to your normal moderately-sleep-deprived self.”

“Mmm, maybe you’re right.” She extended her arms into a stretch. “Maybe Jack will take a nap with me.” She paused and then looked me in the eye. “Sophie?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you for everything you’ve done.”

I smiled and nodded at Jack. “If you can actually get him to sleep, that will be thanks enough.”

 

The next day Leah left early in the morning to take Jack to the zoo. Despite her lawyer’s insistence that she spend every spare moment preparing for her case, Leah had decided that she was going to use the time to do all the things she might not be able to do in the years to come.

Anatoly called me a few minutes after she left with an update. “I’m going over to the Gatsby to see if anyone there has theories about where Cheryl disappeared to, but before I go, let me fill you in on the details of a conversation I just had with James Sawyer.”

“Okay, fill away.”

“I told him our theory about Taylor and Bob’s possible embezzlement.”

“How’d he react?”

“Initially he expressed disbelief, but when I started going over Bob’s recent expenditures, his disbelief morphed into what I would call outraged suspicion. He’s going to have an outside auditor go over the books and get back to me.”

“Any chance James was in on it?”

“I don’t think so. His salary is almost a million a year and his stock options are considerable. Plus he sincerely seems to love his company. He built it from the ground up and I think it’s doubtful that he would undermine it for the sake of a few illegal bonus checks.”

“So if there was any corporate monkey business going on it probably all falls on Bob’s and Taylor’s shoulders.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “Well, this could be a good thing. If there’s any evidence that Taylor and Bob were taking money from Chalet, James will undoubtedly find it. Then the police will be forced to move Taylor to the top of their suspect list.”

“Not necessarily. I had hoped that the mere possibility of internal theft would be enough to get James to refuse to be Taylor’s alibi, but he stuck to his first statement, only amending it by saying that he wished he had known all this at the time of the dinner so that he could have taken the opportunity to stick her with the check.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“What I’m saying is that it doesn’t matter how many crimes Taylor is found guilty of—if she has an alibi for the night in question it doesn’t help us.”

I drew in a deep breath. “Surely you have
some
good news for me.”

“None that I can think of.”

“Well then, make some up! This is one of those times where a little placating is appropriate. Now I want you to repeat after me—‘Sophie, your sister will be cleared of all charges, everybody will be happy and your next book will sell better than the
Da Vinci Code
.’”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Shmuck.” I hung up the phone and stared at Mr. Katz, who was curled up by the windows. “
You
think Leah will come out of this okay, don’t you?”

Mr. Katz blinked, which was clearly his way of saying yes.

“And I’ll sell more books than Dan Brown?”

Mr. Katz got up and left the room.

I looked down at the floor. This is why I don’t gamble. I’m incapable of quitting when I’m ahead.

I spent the next two hours pounding out what I hoped would be blockbuster prose before Mary Ann showed up on my doorstep bearing gifts.

“A light Java Chip Frappuccino with extra whipped cream and a box of Neiman’s exclusive chocolate-covered macaroons.”

“Oh my God, it’s been forever since I’ve had a macaroon!” I took the box from her enthusiastically, then hesitated. “They’re low fat right? I’m trying to lose four pounds.”

Mary Ann pulled nervously on a curl. “Well…”

“Oh, for God’s sake, doesn’t anybody lie anymore?”

“They’re diet macaroons.”

I smiled and popped a cookie in my mouth.

Mary Ann slipped off her Keds and kicked them under the coffee table. Her eyes zoomed in on the shoe box that was already there. “New shoes?”

“Old junk. Those are the personal effects Bob had at his office.”

“May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the box.

I nodded and she handed me my Frappuccino before taking the box to the couch.

First she pulled out the family photo encased in the hideous gold frame. Mary Ann pressed her lips together as if trying to resist the urge to gag. “Did…Bob pick this frame out himself?”

I laughed. “Erika told me it was a gift but we don’t know from whom.”

She examined the photo with what I took to be morbid curiosity. “Bob and Leah look so…so…”

“Disgusted with life?” I supplied. “Yeah, they weren’t exactly a Norman Rockwell kind of family.”

“Rockwell…is he the guy who built Rockwell Center in New York?”

I suppressed a grin. “You’re thinking of Rockefeller. Bob wasn’t him, either, although you would never know it from the way he spent money.” I took another cookie before sitting on the love seat with my coffee. “You know what’s funny? As hard as this whole ordeal has been on Leah, in some ways I think it’s helped her grow as a person.”

“How so?”

“Well, as long as I have known her she’s always been a wannabe something. A wannabe cheerleader, a wannabe debutante, a wannabe domestic goddess—and Bob just encouraged that.”

“Really? In what ways?”

“Oh, in lots of little ways. She used to say ‘oy vey’ a lot, but Bob said it made her sound low-class, so she stopped. She bought this cute little plum-colored V-neck sweater, but Bob thought it made her look slutty, so she didn’t wear it. Basically he had an idea of how she should be and it had nothing to do with who she was.”

Mary Ann put one hand on her heart. “That’s awful!”

“It is awful. But it seems like in the past few days Leah’s forgotten to try to be someone else. It’s like she’s been forced to look at what’s most important to her and she’s discovered that it’s not a white-picket fence and a lace tablecloth.”

“I didn’t know Leah even had a white-picket fence.”

I stared at her from over my plastic cup and wondered how someone could manage to be that dense and still survive. “I’m speaking figuratively. What I’m trying to say is that in a strange way this horrific situation has forced Leah to come into her own.”

There was the sound of a key being wiggled in the lock and a second later Leah slipped in with Jack sleeping in her arms. She mouthed the word
hi
and went down the hall into the guest room.

Mary Ann smiled at me. “I like her highlights.”

“She’s getting rid of those soon,” I grumbled.

When she came back out into the living room and sat down next to Mary Ann, her eyes fell on the macaroons that I had put on the coffee table.

“Have one,” Mary Ann urged. “I bought them for both of you.”

“Are they sugar-free? I’m on a low-carb diet.”

“Sugar-free? No…” Mary Ann saw the pleading look on Leah’s face and immediately understood her mistake. “Yes, they’re sugar-free. No sugar at all.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Leah smiled and dove in. “So I’ve made a decision.”

“What kind of decision?” I asked.

“I’ve decided to have sex with Jerome.”

Mary Ann turned bright red and I nearly choked on my low-fat/sugar-free cookie. Maybe Leah wasn’t so stable after all. “Wasn’t it you who told me you should never sleep with a man on the first date?” I asked.

Leah nodded. “I still believe that, which is why I won’t be dating him. This will strictly be a wham-bam kind of deal.”

“A wham-bam deal?” My voice came out in a strangled squeak. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

“Really, Sophie, what’s the risk?” Leah asked. “It’s not like anyone will see us holding hands in public. Besides, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had good sex?”

“I don’t know…a month, two…”

“Seven years ago. You remember Steven, don’t you? He was the man I dated before Bob.”

“Seven years?” Mary Ann’s eyes widened. “What about Bob?”

“I said
good
sex.” Leah must have heard herself because she suddenly blushed and looked down at the floor. “Bob did try but…” As her voice trailed off she held up her hand and made a small space between her thumb and index finger.

“You mean he had a small penis?” Mary Ann blurted out, then sank down into the couch, clearly embarrassed by her own contribution to the conversation. “Well, I guess that’s not the
most
important quality in a husband.”

“Yeah,” I said dryly. “There’s honesty, loyalty, moral values—all things Bob just had in spades.”

“So you understand why I want to sleep with Jerome.”

“Of course I understand why you
want
to, but that doesn’t mean you should do it.”

“And what
should
I do? If I behave like a nun do you think the DA will drop the charges? No, he won’t. My life is on the brink of ruin and it’s all because I married some adulterous jerk-off with a small penis!”

And with that she turned around and threw the frame against the wall. The glass shattered and the backing dislodged, thus displaying a floppy disk that had been hidden behind the photo. Mary Ann, Leah and I all exchanged quick looks before dropping to our knees to study it. I carefully pulled away the shards of glass and picked up the disk.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked Leah.

“It’s what that burglar was looking for,” she whispered.

My mind went back to the day Erika called me to Bob’s office. She had been so adamant that I come get everything immediately. And then there was the way that she had presented the framed photo. She hadn’t put it in the box with the other things. Instead she had made a point of personally handing it to me and telling me that Leah should reframe the picture.

“Erika put this here,” I said quietly. “She wanted you to find this.”

Leah gasped. “You think?” She reached out and touched the disk. “If that’s true, it would be as if she was speaking to us from beyond the grave.”

Mary Ann stood up. “I just got a chill.” She looked over her shoulder as if expecting to see a ghost.

“We have to see what’s on this.” I rushed to my laptop, which I had left in my bedroom, Leah and Mary Ann on my heels. When I attached the external floppy drive and stuck the disk inside, only one file popped up. It was titled “Orders.” I clicked on it, and in a matter of seconds the purchasing history of several of Chalet’s customers appeared on the screen.

I shook my head. “I don’t get it. Why would Erika want us to have this?”

“Maybe she didn’t.” Leah’s voice was heavy with resignation. “Maybe she didn’t put it in the frame after all.”

“If she didn’t hide it, someone else did. But why someone would want to save the purchasing history of a select number of Chalet customers on a floppy is beyond me.” I scrolled down the page. “These people weren’t even
good
customers.” I pointed to the screen. “Look, this woman bought twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth of stuff in June and then here in July she returned it all.”

Leah bent over so her face was closer to the monitor. “So she did. Look, this woman did the same thing—except she only spent seven thousand.”

“I know what this is!” Mary Ann clapped her hands together. “It’s a classic buy-and-return scam. We see it at Neiman’s all the time. People buy a dress, wear it once and then try to return it.”

I shook my head and pointed to one of the orders. “A dining room table is not a dress.”

“Maybe they were having a dinner party,” Mary Ann offered.

Leah squinted at the screen. “Will you look at where this woman lives? Who buys an eighty-five-hundred dollar table and then has it delivered to the slums?”

“That is weird,” Mary Ann said, noting the Hunter’s Point address. “Maybe it was a gift?”

“For who?” I asked. “Her drug dealer? Are they accepting tables and armoires in the place of cash these days?”

Leah tapped the arrow button, scrolling down to expose more orders and returns. “Okay, so these people like to return things. How is this relevant to my life?”

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