The Next Victim (7 page)

"I loved John," Sabrina said softly. "Even if I sometimes wanted to wring his neck." She paused. "Just like I love you."

Kali wiped her eye with the heel of her hand. "In spite of all the times you want to wring my neck?"

Sabrina managed a weak smile. "Yeah."

"I love you, too, you know." Kali didn't bother with the qualifiers. They both knew how often she was exasperated with her sister.

"Yeah," Sabrina said. "I do know that."

For now, peace. If past experience was any guide, it wouldn't last forever. Maybe not even the rest of the day. But Kali was suddenly grateful for the chance to bury the tension, however temporarily. She realized, with a fresh pang of grief, that she'd never have that opportunity with her brother.

Kali started the engine. "You still want to stay at John's?" They'd decided on the phone that it made sense to stay there rather than a hotel, but now Kali wasn't sure it was such a good idea. Maybe it was too soon.

"We have to deal with the house at some point," Sabrina pointed out.

Kali nodded in agreement, though she was sure neither of them was up to doing anything about it tonight.

"And
not
staying there," Sabrina added, "that would be like...like avoiding John."

Not altogether a bad idea at the moment, Kali thought.

"I think he'd like it," Sabrina continued. "We're family. It feels right."

Kali remembered cleaning out the family home after her father's death, and the things she'd come to understand about both of her parents. Maybe by staying at John's she'd come to feel closer to him, too.

"Okay, tell me how to get there."

John's house, north of the city, was a Sante Festyle stucco with a spectacular view of the Catalina Mountains. The red-orange sun reflecting on the mountains was the first thing Kali noticed when she stepped through the door. She set her purse and suitcase down in the entry and wandered through the main part of the house.

A large room of living and dining space with floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto the yard at the rear of the house. The floors were a mix of Spanish tile and random-plank maple. Combined with the natural log beams, a kiva-style fireplace, and neutral-tone plaster walls, the effect was lovely. It was a house that was both luxurious and comfortable, and not at all what Kali had expected. The furnishings, on the other hand, were exactly what she'd envisioned for John--basic. John's basics. The living room held nothing but a buttery-soft leather sectional, a glossy ebony-color coffee table, what looked to be a forty-inch plasma flat-screen television, and a state-of-the-art sound system. The dining table and chairs were sleek and modern and didn't, to Kali's eye, fit with the style of the house. The walls were bare. So were the kitchen counters except for a coffeemaker. The appliances, she noticed, were all upper end.

"Don't worry," Sabrina said, reading Kali's expression, "the bedrooms are furnished."

"It's too bad he did so little with it. It's a beautiful home."

"And a good investment. That was John's primary concern."

Sabrina made her way to the kitchen with the ease of someone in familiar space. She paused long enough to turn on the ceiling fan, even though Kali found the house chilly. Coming from the Bay Area, she wasn't used to air-conditioned interiors and always felt like she was walking into a refrigerator when she entered them.

They'd decided to stop for food on the way to John's. By unspoken accord, they'd ignored a large Logan Foods market, stopping instead at a Basha's, where they picked up corn chips, salsa, deli salads, and a roasted chicken. As well as vodka and wine. Although it was not yet five, Sabrina made herself a stiff drink.

What the hell
? If there was ever a day that called for an early drink, this was it. Kali opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass.

"I can't believe he's really gone," Sabrina said, taking a long, slow sip of her vodka and tonic. "It's so...random. One minute he's alive, maybe watching television or walking around the house, and the next minute everything's changed."

Kali tried to envision their last phone call from John's perspective. It had been only hours before his death. "If only he'd had the sense not to mix pills and booze. You'd think he'd know better."

Sabrina nodded. "I thought he was past that. I mean, after the experience he had getting off pain medications and all. But"--she lifted her vodka tonic--"I guess I understand the appeal of escape, too."

"Being accused of murder would be something to escape from, all right." Had John already taken a bunch of pills when she'd called that night? Or was Kali's unwillingness to talk to him part of what pushed him over the edge? Suddenly, she felt the house closing in on her.

"Let's take our drinks outside," she said.

"Are you crazy? It must be ninety-five degrees out there."

Kali's own deck in the Bay Area was often shrouded in fog by evening, so the idea of a warm evening appealed to her. But she opened the patio door to a blast of air so hot and dry it was like stepping into an oven. Reluctantly, she joined Sabrina on the sectional in the living room.

"I told you it was too hot out there," Sabrina said, then added wistfully, "John was talking about having a misting system installed. We have one at home and it really helps."

Although it shouldn't have come as a surprise, Kali felt a pinch of envy that her siblings were closer to each other than to her. Sure, she talked to Sabrina every month or so, but she didn't really know much about the day-to-day activities of her sister's life. And her rare conversations with John were stiff and awkward. John and Sabrina were connected; she had been the odd one out.

"Did you and John see a lot of each other?" Kali asked.

Sabrina made a fluttering, so-so motion with her free hand. "Sometimes I'd drive down and we'd go to lunch. More often, he'd come for dinner or hang out and spend time with the kids."

Uncle John
. Kali had never considered her brother in that light. She was struck once again by how out of touch she'd been.

"They adored him," Sabrina added. "Probably because he spoiled them rotten."

Her sister's three boys ranged in age from twelve to seventeen. Kali sent presents on birthdays and Christmas, and greeting cards on special holidays, but she saw them at most a couple of times a year.

"How are they doing?" Kali asked.

Sabrina brushed away tears. "I haven't told them yet. They'll be devastated."

Would they have felt the same if something had happened to her? Kali wondered. Maybe John wasn't as selfish as she'd imagined. "What did you and John talk about?"

Sabrina gave her a puzzled look. "Whatever came up. It's not like we sat around and debated theories of evolution or anything, if that's what you mean."

Kali wasn't sure what she'd meant except that she and John seemed never to have anything to say to one another. "What about the woman he's accused of murdering? You said he knew her. Did he ever talk to you about her?"

"Sloane? She's Reed Logan's sister."

"Oh, my God. I didn't know." Reed Logan had been John's friend at USC. Although Kali hadn't seen him in fifteen years, she'd seen a lot of him when she was in law school at Berkeley, and Reed and John were working together at a management consulting firm in San Francisco. "That's awful. Poor Reed."

Sabrina nodded. "He's lost two people close to him now."

"Had you met her?" Kali asked.

"Years ago, in L.A." Sabrina stared into space for a moment; then she tucked her legs under her and turned to Kali. "They dated, you know. John and Sloane. More than dated, actually."

"When was that?" Kali wondered if a lovers' quarrel could have led to murder.

"In college and after. They broke up for a while, but they were together again right before Peter and I got married. They must have split up again because John brought some other woman to the wedding. Do you remember? The one who clung to him like Saran Wrap. Sloane was off traveling through Europe, he said."

"Vaguely." What Kali remembered was that John and her father had both had too much to drink. They'd argued and ended up pummeling each other in the fountain outside the hotel.

"John told me at one point that Sloane was married and living in L.A. No children, I think. She was apparently very involved in charitable work."

"Society stuff?"

"Maybe. But she was also, like, save the dolphins, stop global warming, help the needy. And not at all interested in the family business. I learned all this after she returned to Tucson last year and started agitating to get John fired. He was really pissed. I mean, it was John who helped Reed turn the business around when it wasn't doing well after the senior Mr. Logan's death."

"She wanted him fired?" Was this what the detective had meant by "conflicts at work"?

"I know," Sabrina said, misunderstanding the source of Kali's dismay. "It's so unfair. John said Sloane didn't understand the difference between a business and a charity. He wished she'd just go back to saving the spotted whales or whatever, and leave the running of the company to him and Reed."

Corporate intrigue. A motive made in prosecutorial heaven. Kali's stomach clenched. "John benefited from Sloane's death, then?"

Sabrina shook her head. "Don't even go there, Kali. That's so...so--"

"So obvious."

"You're disgusting!" Sabrina shrieked. "How can you possibly think your own brother is a murderer?"

"You think most killers don't have families? Being somebody's brother doesn't make you a saint." Kali set her glass on the ebony-stained coffee table. "Sloane and John argued the night she was killed, remember? That's what it must have been about."

Sabrina put her hands over her ears. "Stop it! Stop right now."

"All I said was--"

"What's with you anyway?" Sabrina wailed. "I should think you'd be on his side."

Kali knew that being a suspect didn't mean you were guilty. She was a defense attorney, for God's sake. Yet here she was, buying into the detectives' case. Why? Maybe because the facts supported it. Or maybe it had something to do with never admitting to herself how much John's indifference had hurt. Or perhaps, suggested a tiny voice in her head, it was simply easier to blame John than look at her own faults.

Kali pushed the question from her head and stood up. "Come on, let's eat."

Though the coleslaw tasted of mayonnaise and the bean salad of oil and salt, the roasted chicken was surprisingly good. Kali went back for seconds while Sabrina pushed food around on her plate and polished off another vodka tonic.

Suddenly Sabrina rocked forward and pointed at the television, which she'd turned on when they sat down to eat. "Look," she sputtered, "it's John."

In split screen, their brother's face--a photograph Kali had never seen--appeared, along with that of a woman. Kali reached for the remote and turned up the volume.

"...died sometime late Tuesday night. He drowned in the backyard swimming pool of his home. Sheriff's detectives had considered him the prime suspect in the recent double homicide of Logan Foods heiress Sloane Winslow and her housekeeper, Olivia Perez. Although there has been no official word on the status of that case, sources tell us that police are not actively pursuing other leads at this time."

"Good God," Sabrina wailed. "Now it's all over the news. Can they do that? Can't we sue them for defamation or something?"

"Sshhh." Kali wanted to get a good look at Sloane. The photo showed a smiling woman in her early forties. Her blond hair was just short of shoulder length and layered to frame her face. Her eyes were a deep blue-green, her teeth straight and white. There were freckles across her nose and fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Not a Hollywood beauty maybe, but Sloane Winslow was stunning in a timeless, wholesome way.

"You can't let them get away with this," Sabrina insisted. She stood up and began pacing between the sofa and the television.

"Get away with what? All the reporter said was--"

"If he was alive, you'd help him, wouldn't you? If for no other reason," Sabrina added sarcastically, "than because you're Ms. Big-Time Defense Attorney."

Sabrina's tone stung. "You've done okay for yourself," Kali said defensively.

"You're the big success, though." Sabrina stopped her pacing and planted herself near Kali. "You're the star."

Kali didn't think she lorded her achievements, such as they were, over her sister, or anyone else. And Sabrina certainly had many things Kali did not--a loving husband, kids, financial security, and a lifestyle that included exotic vacations and expensive jewelry.

But Sabrina was right about one thing: whatever her doubts, Kali would have stood by John and made sure he had a chance at the best defense possible.

He wasn't alive, though, and she'd turned her back on him when he'd needed her.

Never mind that he might have drowned regardless. Her own culpability lodged in her throat. Was that what made it so hard to admit that John might be innocent?

"He called me," Kali said after a moment.

"I know. You told the cops that." Sabrina plunked herself back down on the sofa and reached for her drink.

"Several times over the last few days. I was in the mountains where I couldn't pick up my messages." Not entirely true, she reminded herself. She'd received one message and ignored it. "When I finally reached him Tuesday night"--Kali's throat constricted at the memory of her own self-righteousness--"he said he needed my help."

Sabrina set her glass down with a loud clunk. "I thought you said you didn't talk to him, that he was busy or something."

"He was drunk." Kali paused. "I told him I'd call him in the morning."

"Oh, no." Sabrina started whimpering again. "How
could
you?"

"I didn't know he was going to die."

"Maybe if you'd taken the time to talk to him, he wouldn't have."

"What, I was going to stop him from drinking? From popping pills? It's not my fault he's dead." It really wasn't, she told herself. But guilt had a mind of its own.