Vows, Vendettas and a Little Black Dress Page 18

  My relationship needed work.

  But it wasn’t until after we decided to leave after the band’s first set that things got really bad.

  The music had been good but neither of us were feeling it. It was unlikely that we’d be able to relate to anything cheerier than a Nine Inch Nails single that night. We walked outside and there was just enough wind to lift my hair from my shoulders. My car was parked three and a half blocks away on a residential street and that made me nervous. There weren’t that many people on the street and while I pretty much knew that it had been Mary Ann who was the target this afternoon (and I had been texting her all evening to make sure she was okay) I still didn’t like the idea of being vulnerable to attack. Anatoly was walking me to my car but really, how much protection could he be against a bullet?

  We still had two blocks to go when Anatoly wrapped his arm around my waist and said, “I’m worried about your safety.”

  I stiffened ever so slightly. Did he know? How?

  “Regardless of whether the shooter is Chrissie, Tim or Amelia—”

  “It’s not Amelia.”

  “Whoever did it is still on the streets.”

  “Yeah.” I gingerly stepped over what I pretended to be a puddle of beer despite the distinct smell of urine. “I was thinking that…well, we don’t really know if the intended target was Dena.”

  Anatoly’s cell phone rang. “What do you mean?” he asked as he fished it out of his pocket.

  “Do you need to take that?”

  Anatoly glanced at the screen. “No, it’ll wait.” He dismissed the call and put the phone back in his pocket. “What were you going to say?”

  “Well, the shooting took place in Mary Ann’s apartment and it happened the day after she told Rick that she was getting engaged to another man. Maybe Rick was angry. He could have gone to Mary Ann’s place to…you know, get revenge in an if-I-can’t-have-you-nobody-can kind of way.”

  “It’s an interesting theory but I think Rick would have easily seen that the person in the living room was Dena and not Mary Ann,” he said. “I’ll look into Rick but I think we have to assume that Dena was the most likely target and if she’s going to be staying with us we need to take extra precautions.”

  “Well, gee, I’m glad to see you’re not so close-minded as to dismiss me out of hand.”

  “Sophie—”

  “Just shut up and listen for a second,” I snapped. “Rick and Fawn showed up at Dena’s hospital room the morning after she was shot. But the press didn’t release Dena’s name until that afternoon.”

  Anatoly stopped in his tracks. “Yeah,” I said with a smug smile. “Dismiss that, Sherlock.”

  Anatoly looked down at the ground and I could almost see his brain cells going into overdrive. “They showed her apartment.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The media…they reported from right outside Mary Ann’s apartment. They even said that a woman was killed while celebrating her cousin’s engagement. If Rick knew Mary Ann had just gotten engaged it wouldn’t be difficult for him to figure out that it was Dena who had been shot.”

  There are people who love to debate. I’m not one of them. I just love to be right and in a matter of seconds Anatoly had proved that I might be wrong. I hated that.

  “He said he heard that Dena was shot on the news,” I said stubbornly. “He didn’t say he figured it out for himself.”

  “It’s highly suspicious,” Anatoly agreed. “But not conclusive. We also have to allow for the possibility that one of the networks mentioned Mary Ann’s name. That’s easy to check of course. I’ll investigate and I’ll find out if Rick had an alibi.”

  “That’s it? You’ll check into it?”

  “There’s not a lot more I can do at this point, Sophie.”

  I gritted my teeth. I knew he was right but I had expected a much bigger reaction.

  He put his hand on the small of my back and we started walking again. Again I considered telling him about Buena Vista Park but I was no longer sure if that would strengthen or weaken my argument.

  “I’m working on two time-consuming cases right now,” Anatoly went on. “Plus I want to be sure I have time to check into all the other leads. Not just Amelia,” he added quickly when he saw the look on my face. “But if Dena is in danger you’ll be in the line of fire. I won’t always be able to be around to protect either of you.”

  “Maybe Dena and I can protect each other.”

  “I’d feel better if there was another man in the house.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Excuse me?”

  “I think we should consider asking Jason to stay at the house while Dena’s there.”

  I laughed. I honestly thought he was joking. But his lack of mirth immediately set the alarm bells off in my head. “You’re talking about Jason from Friday the 13th, right? Because I’m much more likely to offer him a room than Jason Beck, Dena’s boyfriend.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Jason.”

  “Anatoly, he believes in vampires.”

  “Then he’ll be alert to anyone who tries to creep around in the night.”

  For the second time in one night my jaw dropped to my chest. “This isn’t happening,” I said as soon as I was able to pull it together enough to speak.

  “It’s just a precaution, Sophie, but a necessary one. Jason told me that he’s bartending Monday, Wednesday and Thursday nights along with Sunday afternoons. I can usually be around when he’s not—”

  I held up my hand to stop him. “I don’t need a man to protect me.”

  “This isn’t a feminist issue. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  “It’s a feminist issue if you’re suggesting that two women can’t manage to protect themselves.”

  “One of those women is currently in a wheelchair.”

  “Oh, so now you’re discriminating against the disabled? There are amputees who compete in triathlons, you know.”

  “Is Dena one of them? Because that’s the only way that would be relevant.”

  “Damn it, Anatoly, do you have any idea how many life-or-death situations I’ve been in over the past four years? And guess what? I’m still here. That’s not just luck.”

  “Sophie, there has almost always been someone around to help you.”

  “Yeah, and most of them have been women! And by the way, there was at least one time when I fended off a murderer all by myself.”

  “Not entirely by yourself. If it hadn’t been for your cat you’d be dead right now.”

  “Well, there you go then. Mr. Katz is always around so it will be me, you, Dena and my kick-ass ninja kitty.”

  “Sophie—”

  “Kim can stay with us when he gets back. I don’t know him as well as Jason but he seems a little more normal…that is, if you’re sure he isn’t the shooter. I don’t let wannabe murderers crash on my couch. House rule.”

  “Kim is going to have to take a two-day bus ride just to get to an airport, and that’s assuming that the upset stomach he mentioned over the phone is due to consuming too much vodka rather than the local water. We can’t wait for Kim.”

  “Well, Jason’s not staying with us, Anatoly.”

  “I pay my share of the mortgage, Sophie. It’s not just your decision.”

  The wind was getting stronger now and you could hear its gentle moan as it whipped through the city streets. “You don’t get equal say in this and that’s not because of my history with the house or because I’m the one who made the down payment or even because it’s my name on the deed. It’s because you insist on keeping your life story from me…and because of that stupid apartment of yours. You’re not even subletting it right now. It’s just waiting for you in case you decide to bail.”

  “Sophie—”

  “Dena will be staying with us. Not Jason. You don’t like it? Give up your apartment and tell me when, how and why you learned Spanish. Tell me who the 212 chick is and don’t give me any of that confidentiality crap. Tell me wh
at your life was like in New York and in Israel and Russia before that. Tell me about the events that made you who you are. That will give you equal say.”

  Anatoly stared up at the rooftops of the converted Victorians that lined the street. Finally he lowered his gaze to me. “Those aren’t things I’m going to talk to you about.”

  He might as well have punched me in the stomach and I found myself stepping backward and raising my hands as if trying to escape the next blow. “I think you should stay in that empty apartment tonight and figure out if that’s really the answer you want to give me.”

  I felt myself turning away from him. It wasn’t even something I decided to do. I was on automatic pilot walking away from the man I loved. He didn’t follow me but I could feel him watching me as I walked the remaining distance to my car. It wasn’t comforting but then what about today had been anything other than miserable? Perhaps this was the perfect way to end it.

  The day. It was the perfect way to end the day. I wasn’t at all sure if I was ending my relationship with Anatoly. But at this point anything was possible.

  CHAPTER 17

  My ex-girlfriend believes that you should do unto others as you’d have them do unto you. Unfortunately, she’s a masochist.

  –Fatally Yours

  When I got home I walked straight through the house, out the back door and onto my tiny strip of grass that I generously called a backyard. I stripped off my jacket and threw it on my wrought-iron bench. Little goose bumps popped up all over my arms and the cool mist penetrated my skin. I wished it were colder. I wanted it to be so cold that I could only focus on my physical discomfort, rather than the hurt Anatoly had dealt me. I fumbled in my purse for my cell phone and dialed Dena’s number. It was late, but I badly wanted to talk to her. Even though I had no intention of laying my drama on her already burdened shoulders, I still needed the comfort of her voice.

  She answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”

  “You’re awake,” I said with relief.

  “Sophie, people don’t sleep in hospitals. The best you can hope for is to nap between nurse visits and then you pass out from all the pain meds. Passing out is not the same as falling asleep.”

  I looked up at the starless sky and bit back my jealousy. Drugs would be good about now.

  “Hey, I know this is going to sound weird but I’ve got to ask you something,” she went on.

  “Anything.”

  “Did Anatoly call Kim in Nicaragua?”

  I heard a siren wailing in the distance as I frantically tried to decide how much I should tell her. “He did,” I said, opting for simplicity.

  “Why?”

  Now there was no way I could come up with a simple answer for that.

  “Don’t’ get me wrong, I’m glad he did,” she continued. “He needed to be clued in to what’s been going on and I really didn’t want to be the one to walk him through it. He said he’s coming home as soon as he can but he’s not near an airport and his stomach’s sort of messed up.”

  “Yeah, Anatoly mentioned that.” I batted away a moth and lowered myself onto the bench.

  “Dumb ass probably drank the water.”

  I giggled. It was funny how my best friend and my boyfriend thought alike. That is, Dena and Anatoly thought alike…whether or not Anatoly was still my boyfriend was up in the air. The thought sucked all the good humor out of me. “Oh, God,” I breathed.

  “Sophie, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I… Oh, God!” I screamed as my automatic sprinklers sprang to life. I jumped to my feet and pulled myself and my leather jacket into the safety of the kitchen.

  “Sophie, what’s going on! What’s happening!” The panic in Dena’s voice immediately stopped me in my tracks. “Nothing,” I said quickly. “I was outside and the sprinklers went on and got me all wet. That’s all.”

  There was a long silence on the other line and I thought I heard a muffled sob.

  “Dena—”

  “No, I’m okay,” she said, cutting me off but her voice was shaky. “I can’t be like this. Every time someone utters an exclamation or I hear a loud noise I think someone’s being attacked. I can’t be like this, Sophie.”

  I rested my forehead against the beveled glass window of my back door. “You won’t be like this when the person who did this is behind bars.”

  “And that’s going to happen soon?” Dena asked almost sarcastically.

  “It will.”

  “Come on, Sophie. People get away with all sorts of shit in this world. Who’s to say my attacker won’t get away with his crime?”

  “He won’t,” I said simply. “I won’t let him.”

  “I see, and you’re God now?”

  “No, but my lack of divinity isn’t going to keep me from damning this son of a bitch to hell.”

  I had hoped my words would cheer her but she just sighed. “I’m tired, Sophie. I think I’m going to try to sleep.”

  “But I thought you said people in hospitals—”

  “I know what I said. I’m going to try anyway.”

  “Okay. I love you, Dena.”

  She chuckled softly. “Don’t get mushy on me. I’m not that depressed.”

  I smiled to myself. She was going to be okay because she had to be. We all had to find a way to be okay…. Of course she would be more okay once we figured out who her shooter was. It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs to my room that I realized I had avoided giving her the reasons for Anatoly’s call to Kim. It was better that way. She had enough on her plate without worrying about Amelia being falsely accused or worse yet Mary Ann’s life possibly being in jeopardy.

  Long after I had gone to bed I heard Anatoly’s Harley pull up into the driveway. Apparently he had rejected the idea of staying in his apartment. I listened to his footsteps climb the long stairway and I felt his presence as he walked into our room and stood over my bed watching me as I pretended to sleep. I didn’t move as he gently brushed his hand over my hair and it was only when I heard him turn and walk back toward the bedroom door that I dared to peek. But of course by that time all I could see was his back as he left.

  He slept in the guest room upstairs that night. That wasn’t hard to figure out because in the morning I could see that the bed was unmade. There were things about Anatoly that I didn’t know but I was deeply familiar with his inability to pick up after himself. I was also familiar with his cooking. The luscious sent of something sweet and rich floated from the kitchen and when I got to the room there was a cookie sheet filled with freshly made pecan-and-chocolate scones. But no Anatoly. He couldn’t have been gone for very long because the scones were still vaguely warm.

  I leaned against the counter and broke off the tip of one scone and popped it in my mouth. It was delicious. And yet as an apology it felt somewhat lacking.

  The doorbell rang as I popped the second bite of scone in my mouth. When I went back to the living room to look out the window I saw Marcus with a large suitcase in his hand. A huge grin broke out on my face.

  I rushed to the front door and threw it open. “He asked you to move in, didn’t he?”

  Marcus lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. “Come again?”

  “Anatoly called and asked if you’d stay with us! That’s why you have the suitcase!”

  I wouldn’t have thought it was possible but Marcus’s eyebrows went even higher. “Anatoly’s looking for a new roommate to throw into the mix? Will this be a platonic arrangement or will I be expected to service the landlord?”

  “Wait, are you not here to move in?”

  “Honey, these are Dena’s things. Didn’t you get my message?”

  “Um…” I turned to my coatrack where I had hung my purse and fished out my phone. Sure enough I had one new voice mail.

  “Dena asked me to pack some things for her and bring them over here,” Marcus said as he pushed passed me. “Apparently our little fire-starter may be getting out of the hospital as early as tomorro
w!”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said with a little less enthusiasm than what was required.

  Marcus gave me a funny look. “Are we not happy about that?”

  “My life is a mess.”

  “Well, of course it is, darling. It always is.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Oh, don’t get overly sensitive. Messy lives are très chic right now. Just ask the Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

  “Okay, they are not chic.”

  “Perhaps not but each one of those little Ritalin-popping home-wreckers has their own fan club and a shot at the cover of OK! magazine.” He transferred the suitcase from hand to hand. “I assume you want to unburden yourself?”

  “If you have the time.”

  “Do you have any more of those scones?” he asked, gesturing to the half-eaten pastry in my hand.

  “I have a cookie sheet full of them, fresh baked this morning.”

  “That and a cup of coffee will earn you a full season on my metaphorical couch.”

  Twenty minutes later Marcus had his scone and coffee and was listening to everything that had happened since I had last seen him. I told him the things I had withheld from Anatoly and then I told him about the conflicts I had with Anatoly and finally I told him about Anatoly’s Jason idea.

  “I mean, Jason!” I breathed, taking a sip out of my own cup of brew. “I like hanging out with him for limited periods of time but sleepovers are simply not an option.”

  “Jason’s not so bad,” Marcus mused. “The funny thing is that if you had told Anatoly about what happened at Buena Vista Park he would know that his desire to have another man in the house was well-founded.”

  “I don’t need a man to protect me!”