Vows, Vendettas And A Little Black Dress. Kyra Davis

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СКАЧАТЬ before going back to the middle of the kitchen where he had placed all the other ingredients. “It’ll take a half hour to bake the garlic,” he said casually as he threw some cloves in a pan.

      This is why I’m okay with overcast skies. I had a boyfriend who marinated tomatoes when he was bored. Life doesn’t get sunnier than that.

      “They’re reporting the story on the news,” Anatoly said, interrupting my silent reverie. “It’s sensational enough to get a lot of play.”

      And now the dark clouds were coming indoors. I sighed and adjusted my position. “What’s the angle? Woman shot by unknown assailant in the Lake Street district while celebrating her cousin’s engagement?”

      “Yep,” Anatoly said. “They finally released Dena’s name a couple of hours ago. I take it that means Mary Ann was successful in contacting Dena’s parents?”

      “Yeah, they’re here.” Mr. Katz was circling Anatoly’s legs. He knew food was being prepared. Still, it seemed unnatural that a cat would have a craving for Brie. “I can’t imagine that Dena wants to be San Francisco’s celebrity victim,” I mused.

      Anatoly nodded. He pulled a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge and poured me a glass. “I talked to the other tenants in Mary Ann’s building today.”

      “Oh?”

      “They all insist that they didn’t buzz anyone into the building last night.”

      “Okay.” I sipped my drink and let the bubbles play on my tongue. “So whoever did this had a key to the building or had access to one.”

      “Maybe. Or maybe the tenants are lying to me out of embarrassment,” he said as he dribbled extra-virgin olive oil over a small pan of garlic. “There’s no security camera to prove anything. Also, a lot of the people who live in that building are older and many of them are beginning to lose their hearing. They wouldn’t necessarily have heard someone running up or down the stairs.”

      “So you spent the day questioning tenants and you learned exactly nothing.”

      “I learned that they all like Mary Ann.” He put the pan in the oven and slammed the door. “I think she’s the youngest person living there. More than one of the other residents said she brightens the place up. I seriously doubt that this was an inside job.”

      “Okay, not nothing then. You learned that grandma didn’t shoot Dena with a silencer. Well, I suppose that’s progress.”

      “We have to start somewhere, Sophie, and it’s usually a good idea to start with the immediate area around the scene of the crime.”

      “I know but…God, I just want someone to pay. I mean, not just someone. The right someone. I was talking to Leah today and she said—”

      Anatoly’s phone started ringing. It was by the tomatoes and I picked it up to see the number.

      “It’s a 212 area code. Who’s calling you from New York?”

      Swiftly Anatoly crossed the kitchen and took the phone from me. He glanced at the number once and then dismissed the call.

      “Who was that?”

      “Just an old client.”

      “An old client?” Mr. Katz was staring at the oven. It would be horrible if he ended up being the first kitty to die jumping into an oven in an attempt to attack an oiled clove of garlic.

      “Yes, old. I’m not taking on any more of her cases.”

      “Her?” He had my attention now. “Her who? It’s not that Mandy bimbo is it?”

      “It wasn’t Mandy, not that it would be a problem if it was.”

      “She was coming between us.”

      “She was a client, Sophie.”

      “She was Playboy’s Miss August, Anatoly,” I snapped. “And did she have to call you at two in the morning? Was that part of your client-detective contract? Did you have to hold your meetings on her boat where she could model bikini tops that could double as friggin’ sails! Size-four-triple-D bimbo. Those things were nothing more than a couple of man-made buoys.”

      “That case ended six months ago. I never touched her.”

      “But you wanted to touch her. I bet you even looked at her Playboy pictures.”

      “I was curious. I’m a guy, Sophie.”

      “If by ‘guy’ you mean total jerk, I’m in complete agreement.”

      “I am making you a tomato and Brie sandwich. Jerks don’t do that.”

      “Okay, fine. A lot of the time you’re great. But there are also times when you’re a little bit of an asshole.”

      “A little bit?”

      I held up my hand revealing a little bit of space between my thumb and finger to show how much a little bit is…then I widened the space by about half an inch.

      He smiled. “Let’s not argue about things that don’t matter. She really didn’t interest me. Not only did she look like a plastic doll but she had the intellect of one, too.” He came over to me, making space for himself between my thighs. “I prefer women who are less…manufactured.”

      I laughed despite myself and trailed the tips of my fingers along his bicep. “You’re really going to help me find Dena’s shooter?”

      “I will.” He tucked my hair behind my ears and kissed me on the nose before returning to his cooking work. “I have a connection at the police department who might get me a little more information than what’s being released to the press. Tomorrow morning I have to do some work for the lawyer who hired me to investigate that workman’s comp claim, but I should be free by the late afternoon. I’ve arranged to meet with my police contact for an early dinner tomorrow after his shift. In the meantime don’t do anything stupid.”

      “I don’t know what you mean,” I said vaguely.

      “Yes, you do. If you find something out, tell me. If you think you’ve identified a suspect, don’t go running over to confront them. Leave that stuff to me and the police.”

      “Oh, right. That is a more logical way of doing things.” I chewed on my lower lip. I had been pestering Anatoly about opening up to me more about his childhood lately but maybe full disclosure wasn’t all it was cracked up to be after all. I had recently read an article that suggested the happiest married couples consisted of individuals who were skilled in the art of denial. Maybe not telling him about my plans to talk to Chrissie was just another way I could help Anatoly maintain some useful delusions about his life with me.

      He pulled out a long knife with a serrated edge and started slicing the baguette. “We need to make a list of possible suspects.”

      I winced. I had to tell him. How could I ask him to help me find Dena’s attacker and not tell him everything I knew? I would just make him understand that meeting with Chrissie was a good idea…and when I wasn’t able to do that, I’d let him think he had convinced СКАЧАТЬ