Booby Trap (6 page)

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Authors: Sue Ann Jaffarian

Tags: #soft-boiled, #mystery, #murder mystery, #fiction, #amateur sleuth, #mystery novels, #murder

BOOK: Booby Trap
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I smiled back at my understanding husband and went back to finishing my meal. Greg did the same.

“So, what is it that’s bothering you? You were about to tell me something.”

I dug into my brain to grasp the tail of my earlier thought. “What’s troubling me is the last victim, Laurie Luke. She doesn’t fit except for the fact that she’s blond and built.” I cut another bite of steak, pausing before popping it into my mouth. “From her sister’s comments, she didn’t seem the type to chat online socially. She seemed too busy and active for such a pastime. And she was in love and engaged to someone just as active as she was. The information on the other women mentioned that they might have met the killer online in chat rooms, even young Gabby.” I chewed and swallowed. “Between her busy schedule as a nurse and her relationship with the photographer, Laurie Luke wouldn’t have had much time for Internet pursuits.”

Greg paused before taking another swig of beer. “I thought the same thing when I first looked at all the information. Her fiancé was a wildlife photographer. I imagine he traveled a lot. Maybe she did go online when he was out of town and she got lonely. Her sister might not have known that.”

“But if she was newly engaged and so in love, why would she agree to meet someone? I saw her fiancé’s photo—he’s as hot as Laurie was. What a beautiful couple they must have made.”

“The guy is hotter than me?” Greg took another gulp of beer and grinned.

I raised my own bottle in a salute. “No one is hotter than you, my darling. You melt the wheels right off your wheelchair.”

Greg tilted his head back and laughed out loud. “Let’s not sling bullshit while we’re eating.”

I laughed and poked around my nearly finished salad with my fork, finally spearing a lone cherry tomato. “Seriously, Greg, a woman who’s deeply in love doesn’t spend time on the computer idly chatting, especially one who is as into exercise and outdoor activities as Laurie seemed to be.”

Greg took a few more bites of his dinner before pushing his plate aside. “So, when are you going to talk to her sister?”

It was as if he’d read my mind. As I ate, I was making plans to do just that. “Hopefully tomorrow, while you’re playing basketball. That is, if I can track her down.”

Greg tossed Wainwright a bit of steak fat. The dog gobbled it up and sat expectantly waiting for more, stopping just short of begging. “I printed out her phone number and address this afternoon for you.”

My eyes popped open in surprise.

“You’re not the only one who knows their way around computer research, you know.” He chuckled and patted me affectionately on my arm.

“I’ll call her right after dinner then.”

“No need. I called her this afternoon. She’s expecting you tomorrow at ten—at her place.”

“Just like that, she said yes to having a stranger come over?”

Greg didn’t answer right away. Instead, he finished his beer. He was teasing me, knowing I was about to burst. Just when I’d reached my limit and was about to strangle him, he answered. “Not a stranger, sweetheart. She said yes to having Odelia Grey come over.”

I stared at him without understanding.

“Did you see the photo of Lisa Luke in the pile of stuff I gave you?”

I shrugged. “I think so, but I was more interested in Laurie.”

“Tch tch tch.” Greg wagged a finger at me. “Marriage must have dulled your senses. Take another look. Lisa Luke is a big girl—a BBW. I simply told her that Odelia Grey of Reality Check wanted to pay her a visit and see if there was anything she needed.”

“And she still said yes?”

“Sweetheart, you and that organization are well known here in Orange County, even among the big girls not involved with it. I just used it to get your foot in the door.”

“And what about the others? How are you going to get me through
those
doors?”

“I’m still working on that.” His eyes were full of mischief. “By the way, do we have any plans for Monday night?”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion at him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I told Gordon Harper we might like to drop by.”

“Who’s Gordon Harper?”

“The ex-husband of Crystal Lee Harper, the stripper. You know, victim two.”

I had created a monster.

Lisa Luke lived in
a spacious two-bedroom condo in Newport Beach, the property situated on a hill just off of Pacific Coast Highway. According to the information Greg provided, she and Laurie were joint owners and lived there together. It wasn’t far from Hoag Hospital or the beach, which must have suited Laurie Luke’s active lifestyle perfectly.

The door was opened almost before my knock was a done deal. Lisa Luke quietly welcomed me, keeping her head down and her eyes fixed on the floor between us as I entered. Before making the trip, I had looked at the only photo of Lisa that had been among the information about her sister. It was a grainy newspaper photo of a plump woman with her head down. She had long blond hair like her sister, but in the photo it had covered most of her face. The sight of Lisa Luke in person shocked me right down to my freshly painted toenails. I stared openly before I remembered my manners, shut my mouth, and smiled.

“Thank you for seeing me, Lisa.”

She nodded and, with a slight wave of her hand, directed me into the living room. I took a seat on an upholstered chair and set my tote bag on the carpet next to me.

“Would you like some coffee or something cold to drink, Ms. Grey?” Her voice was quiet and polite.

“Please, call me Odelia. And something cold would be great, Lisa.”

“Soft drinks or lemonade?”

“I’d love some lemonade, if it’s no trouble.”

Lisa shot me the briefest of smiles and went into the kitchen. The condo had an open floor plan, which allowed me to see most of the kitchen from where I sat. Lisa silently busied herself getting ice and glasses while I looked about.

The condominium was decorated in an open, breezy style that suited Newport Beach. The sofa and chairs were covered in matching floral and checked prints of mostly pale green and rose. The wood furniture was a light pine, and there were many healthy plants on display. Framing the patio door were coordinating solid green drapes in a light fabric, and beyond I noticed white wicker furniture and more plants, many flowering. The door was open, letting in the cool ocean breeze.

The dining area was between the kitchen and living room and held a medium table with white painted legs and a light pine table top. There were six matching chairs, all painted white, each boasting a ruffled seat cushion. Four chairs were around the table with two against the wall, standing guard on either side of a baker’s rack holding knickknacks and cookbooks. The place was almost too cute and too tidy, like the residents had nothing better to do than to clean. Even the Sunday paper was stacked neatly on the coffee table, not strewn about in sections like at our house. The Luke residence reminded me of a fastidious old woman with young taste.

The television was a flat-screen model hung on the wall across from the sofa. It looked new. Beneath it was a credenza with a large grouping of photographs on top. I got up to study the photos. Many were of Laurie and Lisa, together and apart, during various stages of their lives, including graduations. A few were of Laurie with a young man, probably the photographer. I picked one up.

“Is this Laurie’s fiancé?”

Lisa came into the room holding two glasses of lemonade. She glanced at the photo as she passed and quickly hung her head. I didn’t know if she was painfully shy or if it was just the effect of her sister’s murder, but she had yet to look me in the eye.

“Yes, that’s Kirk. Kirk Thomas.” She put the glasses down on individual coasters embossed with wildflowers. “He took many of those pictures. He’s a professional photographer. Mostly exotic wildlife.”

I nodded. “I remember reading that in the newspaper.” I picked up another photograph, one of a couple taken many years ago. The woman looked a lot like Lisa. “Are these your parents?”

Lisa looked at the photo in my hand. “Yes.” She sat on the sofa and picked up her lemonade, staring into the liquid instead of drinking it.

I had a theory and tested it. “Are your parents deceased, Lisa?”
I said the direct words softly to minimize the bluntness of the question.

She quickly popped her head up in my direction, and again I was taken aback by her appearance. “How did you know that?”

“Just a guess. I noticed this was the only photo of them on display. They aren’t even present in the graduation photos you have here, just a much older woman.”

“That’s Grammy, our father’s mother. She raised us after our parents were killed in a car accident. She’s dead now, too.” Her voice trailed off as if it had lost steam.

Suddenly Lisa’s shoulders started shaking, and she gulped for air as she hyperventilated. The lemonade in her glass sloshed. Quickly, I went to her side and took the glass from her hand and set it on the table. I bundled her into my arms and held her tight, stroking her long, pretty hair and cooing soothing words into her ear until she began to calm down.

“It’s all right, Lisa. It’s going to be okay.”

She pulled away from me and for the first time looked into my eyes. “You don’t understand. It’s never going to be okay again.”

“What I understand is that you will always feel the pain from the loss of Laurie, and from the loss of your parents and grandmother, but your life will continue, Lisa. You will be happy again, in time.”

“My being happy is an impossibility now.”

I thought about her comment and made another guess. “Were you and Laurie twins?”

Two things had struck me about Lisa Luke’s appearance the moment I set eyes on her. One, she looked remarkably like my deceased friend Sophie London. She was tall and blond and plump, with curves in all the right places. The face was different but the build and sensual beauty were very similar, except that Lisa appeared to be very shy and withdrawn, where Sophie had been gregarious and confident. The other thing that struck me and struck me hard was, except for her build, Lisa was the spitting image of her sister Laurie. It was as if someone had taken Laurie Luke and inflated her.

Lisa shook her head gently. “No, I’m older by two years.”

“I take it you two were close.”

“Yes, very close. Almost two halves of the same whole. We were all we had in the world. We had no other family, just each other.”

An ugly thought occurred to me, and as much as I wanted to push it away, I couldn’t. “I imagine when Kirk came into the picture, things changed between you.”

Lisa looked at me, confusion about my question filling her intelligent, distraught face. Then the light went on. “You mean, was I jealous?”

“It would be natural.”

She thought about it and sniffed back more tears. “I was used to Laurie dating. Men have always buzzed around her like bees to honey. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was fun and outgoing, smart and kind. She was gone a lot, while I’m more of a homebody.”

“But an engagement is different from dating. Soon she would have married and moved away, leaving you alone.”

Lisa nodded. “Yes, I thought about that quite a bit. And she knew it bothered me. She could always tell what I was feeling.” Lisa picked up her glass and drank some lemonade. “But Kirk’s a doll. Both he and his family welcomed me as much as they did Laurie.” The tears started to spill again. “And now I’ve lost them both.”

She put down her glass and excused herself, heading off down a hall to the right of the kitchen. I got up and went back to the photos, picking up and studying one showing Kirk with his arms around both Lisa and Laurie. Both Luke girls looked happy and content, like Nordic bookends on either side of a handsome fairytale prince.

I was about to poke around some more when I heard a scratching and slight meow. Looking around, I saw no cat or evidence of one. In our house, Seamus’s cat toys were always underfoot, right along with Wainwright’s playthings. I walked to the kitchen area and looked around. Not a single food or water dish either. Again I heard a meow and scratching. I looked down the short corridor where Lisa had disappeared, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. To the left of the kitchen/living area was a closed door. The meowing was coming from the other side. I cautiously opened the door and took a peek. Just inside the door was a dark gray fur ball. Two big, round amber eyes stared back at me in a mixture of fright and relief.

I opened the door a little more and bent down to coax the animal to me. “Here, kitty. Come here. I won’t hurt you.” The animal took a tenuous step in my direction, followed by two scoots back into the room. It wanted to come to me but wasn’t quite sure if it should take the chance.

I focused my attention from the cat to the room. The drapes were open and the daylight revealed a nicely decorated but cluttered, large bedroom. The queen-size bed was unmade and the dresser was filled with photographs, cosmetics, and knickknacks. Clothes were scattered everywhere. In the corner was a desk sprinkled with papers, except for the middle where there was an obvious clearing. Perhaps it was the spot where a laptop had resided. I made a mental note to ask Lisa about it. A few more steps just inside the door was a litter box and plastic dishes containing food and water.

The cat mewed again. It appeared to be several months old, somewhere between a kitten and full-grown cat, and half-wild though cared for. Around its neck, it wore a black rolled-leather collar. Again it started for me, then backed away. I took a couple of steps forward and spoke kitty comfort words to it. It was enough for it to stay still until I reached in and scooped it up. As soon as it was in my arms, it snuggled against me and began to purr, starved for attention.

“That’s Muffin.”

The voice startled me slightly. I hadn’t heard Lisa come up behind me. I turned with the kitten still in my arms. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but I heard it crying at the door.”

“Muffin is … was … Laurie’s cat. Kirk gave it to her last month.”

“Why is the cat shut up? Are you allergic to it?”

Lisa shook her head. She looked at the cat briefly before looking away. “I … I’m sorry, I just can’t bear to look at the thing. It … it …” Her words drifted off as she turned and left Laurie’s room.

Putting the cat down, I shut the door and followed Lisa back to the living room. She was slumped on the sofa, taking small sips from her lemonade. I took a seat beside her. She looked at me and for the first time seemed to be thinking beyond herself.

“Why did your husband call and ask if you could stop by?”

“I’m here because a friend has an interest in the Blond Bomber, and I wanted to ask you some questions.” I took a deep breath. “I’m very sorry if it appears insensitive or intrusive.” Intrusive was becoming my middle name.

Silence filled the room while I took a sip from my own glass. I expected Lisa to inquire more about my friend’s interest in the Blond Bomber, but she didn’t.

“Why did
you
consent to see
me
, Lisa? Greg said you knew who I was—and about Reality Check.”

She nodded. “Yes, I’ve thought several times about going to one of the meetings, especially since they are right here in Newport Beach. Unlike my sister, I have trouble getting out and meeting people, and I thought it might be fun and helpful. Once, I even went to the morning walk around the Back Bay.”

I gave her a smile of encouragement.

She looked down at her glass. “But I didn’t join the others. I just walked behind them. But they looked like they were having fun.”

“It’s a nice group, Lisa. You should go, especially now when you need some support.”

“That’s why I said yes when your husband called. I thought you might be good to talk to about this … this horrible thing.” Once again, she started shaking, and once again, I put my arms around her. We sat quietly for several minutes with her cradled against me like a child. Lisa was as lost and frightened as the kitten in the next room.

When Lisa straightened up again, I got up and grabbed a tissue box sitting on the counter between the living room and kitchen area and brought it to her. She mopped her face and blew her nose.

“How is Kirk taking this? He must be devastated.”

She was more composed, but her eyes were red and her creamy complexion blotchy. “He’s been inconsolable, of course—both he and his family. I haven’t even seen them since the funeral, but his mother calls me every few days to see how I’m doing.” Muffin scratched at the door again, and Lisa turned her head towards the noise. “I don’t think they want to see me any more than I want to see that poor cat. It’s just too painful.”

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