Murder Under the Italian Moon (16 page)

"Why the sad face?" He took a step back to where I stood, put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. He did all this in the middle of the sidewalk. Besides Larry and I, there were only a few people in sight. I felt like a teenager being walked home from school. And I liked it.

"You don't mind, then? We're meeting Bonnie next to her office. There's a little place where she likes to eat so we won't take away from her working hours. Okay?" He looked at me and I nodded yes.

I'm doing this for Kyle
, I told myself without much conviction.

The aloof expression lingered on Larry's face even as he drove. He put his hand on my knee, but I could tell his mind was somewhere else. "So Kyle is friends with Audrey Bernard?"

I turned to look at him. What a strange question. First Parker, now Audrey. Was he jealous of Kyle? I doubted Larry's loyalty again. "I'm not sure what you mean by 'friend.' They met the same day he got arrested. He spent most of the afternoon with her and would have spent the rest of the evening if not for Carolyn's phone call."

"Carolyn?" He kept his eyes on the road.

"Kyle's agent. I guess he was to meet her at some affair and got sidetracked with Audrey. But the minute Carolyn called, he grabbed his stuff and took off. That was when you two crossed paths." His hand tightened on my knee.

"Can I assume he doesn't know her very well, then?"

"You mean Audrey? It was love at first sight."

"You don't say…" He turned to look at me and his eyes smiled. His smile excited me, a lot. The same sort of excitement as the first time he touched me. I forced myself not to think about it, but I wanted to make him stop the car and make love to me right there and then. I craved physical contact. No, sexual contact—in the worst way. His hand left my knee and found my cheek. He stroked my face with the back of his hand and I sighed. I knew by the way his hand slowed that he felt the same way. We didn't speak, each fighting our desire our own way.

When he did speak, his voice had a whisper of huskiness. "Does he know about the child?"

"The child? What child?"

"I believe his name is David."

"Yes. He met him when he met Audrey, in the garage. She drags her little brother with her most of the time."

"He's not her brother. He's her son."

I turned in my seat so suddenly the impact of the safety belt against my breasts felt like a knife. Larry's hand slid off my face and stayed there in midair. Audrey had introduced herself as David's sister. Why would she lie? And how would Larry know that she was David's mother and not his sister? Who was Audrey to him?

"Looks like Mr. Devin has been busy catching up with Audrey's family tree when he was up in Parker." I regretted saying it.

He slammed on the brakes and stopped the car in the middle of the bicycle lane. With the engine idling he turned to look at me. "Whatever is eating at you, you may as well say it. I understand the stress you're under. I am trying to have an intelligent conversation to clarify just how deep your son is into this mess, and you keep making snide remarks that aren't justified."

I retreated to my side of the car without looking at him and realized how selfish I had been. I'd focused my actions and thoughts of those past days on my obsession with Larry. I needed to think fast, because I had a gut feeling that he was about to turn the car around, take me home and resume his life without me.

"Did your husband cheat on you?" The question knocked the wind out of me.

"No—no!" I had to stop and breathe. "Why would you ask that?"

"Lella, I'm trying to understand why you're so mistrusting. I can't imagine you being like this with everybody, yet around me you make it sound like I'm scheming behind your back. Why would I do that? If I wanted to be in Parker with Audrey, I would be there. So, what is it?"

Whatever I say will make or break this budding relationship
. I stared at my hands folded on my lap, praying for the right answer. I looked at Larry, fully aware of my quivering lips. I bit them. I wasn't going to be the poor little crying darling. I heard my voice, and I knew I could tell the truth. "I think I'm falling in love with you and, believe it or not, I'm terrified. This is my first relationship since Nick died. And while I may have had doubts about Nick's loyalty in the past, the new facts that I'm finding out can affect my son's and my life in a way that scares me. What if Nick was cheating on me? And what if that's one of the reasons for Ruby's behavior? I hate being so clueless about people I care about, and you are one of them. I understand people and relationships don't come with a warranty, but right now, that thought isn't helping much."

He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me with such tenderness I felt the world melt with me. I didn't care that we were sitting in an idling car with pissed-off cyclists pedaling by. He held me against him and said my name like the first time in the darkness of the car. A moment like this was worth a thousand miserable ones…and then some.

J.B.'s Court was a small bar and grill. I followed Larry to a table set for three. Bonnie wasn't there. The man behind the bar waved to us. I had the feeling he was going to bring Larry's usual before we warmed the chairs. The layout of the room reminded me of the Old Dana Point Cafe, where I first met Ruby. Same shade of darkness, same mild smell of old rugs and waxed tabletops. We were the only people there.

The bartender set a martini in front of Larry, then sat down on the third chair. "Bonnie called. She's a little late. What can I get your friend?" He looked at me.

Oh, of course, I was the friend. "Water with lemon would be great, thanks."

He didn't seem in any hurry to get me the water. Instead he looked me over like merchandise. I decided to return the favor. He was over sixty, for sure, stocky, not fat, little hair, but bushy brows—one of life's mysteries in my mind.

"How is Olivia?" he asked Larry. Somehow I knew he really wanted to ask about me.

"She's still in Europe. She loves the place. Keeps finding excuses to stay a little longer." Larry's face relaxed when he spoke about his daughter. He fidgeted with his drink, running his finger around the rim of the glass. Was he nervous? Because of me? He shifted in his chair and introduced me.

"J.B., this is my friend Lella. Lella, Joe Basso."

I still tasted his mouth on mine, but I didn't get upset about being introduced as his friend. "J.B. is a retired judge. Couldn't live away from the courts, so here he is, running a public establishment a block from them." It sounded like a well-worn line.

"Oh, you're the mother of that kid, the movie kid, with the Testarossa."

"Well, it's not
his
Testarossa, you see." I wanted to tell him to shut up, the way he said "movie kid," just like Bonnie the first day I met her.

Before I had the chance to do more verbal damage, Bonnie showed up. J.B. got off the chair and helped her sit, even kissed her hand. I forced myself to remain an unbiased observer.

Bonnie must be one of those women I'd heard about, but never met. Once they find an outfit they like they order a dozen in all possible colors. Today's version was army green. J.B. disappeared then returned before our greetings were exchanged with a glass of water and a drink similar to Larry's, for Bonnie. Yep, they were regulars all right.

"Did you see Kyle? What do you think?" Bonnie was talking to Larry.

"I know he's an actor." Larry shook his head. "But I can't imagine him putting on an act with his mother."

I nearly spat water over myself. Larry went to visit Kyle to see how he acted with me?

"Yeah, he doesn't have it in him," Bonnie agreed, before I could catch my breath. "The poor kid thinks he's going to be released because they have the Porsche. What did you find out?" How about that? They
really
met to talk business, and Bonnie relied a lot on Larry for—his opinion? Inside information? What was I doing there?

"Nothing good. Kyle had a thing for the Parker girl, Audrey Bernard. He was over at her place the afternoon of his arrest. Lella said he spent most of the afternoon there." He smiled at me.

"Crap, they'll find his prints all over the place."

I finally spoke up. "Who is going to find his fingerprints? What are you talking about? What does Audrey have to do with Ruby and the car? You're talking in riddles." Damn, add "inaudible" to my other talents.

They exchanged glances, and J.B. approached with menus. He stood there, not saying a thing. Bonnie looked at him. "I'll have the usual."

"Same here," Larry echoed.

The three of them looked at me, and the owner stuck the menu in my hands.

"I'm not hungry."

Larry shook his head and raised a hand as if to say something. He changed his mind and shook his head again. Bonnie smiled at me like we had some secret entente between us. She pulled the menu toward her. "Lella, J.B. here makes these wonderful sweet potato chips. They're baked and just great with a chicken sandwich he puts together. You should try it. You can always take it home if you can't finish it, but I promise you, it's worth trying."

I shrugged. "Okay." I gave her a ten for effort. Like she said, I could take it home.

"Larry, didn't you tell Lella about the homicide in Parker?"

"What homicide? About the fingerprints…"

Larry put his hand on mine, forcefully. I stopped talking.

"Do you remember the story about Aunt Millie, that Audrey was talking about? Not only was she not her aunt, but apparently, she didn't drown. She was dead before hitting the water."

"Are you talking about the visiting aunt? The one who got along so well with Ruby because they were born the same time and place?" The two of them looked at me like I had sprouted a horn on my forehead.

"You remember all that?" Larry shook his head. "By the way, no, that's also not true. Ruby Russell and Milena Forrester were not the same age, not even close. I think your friend Ruby is five years older. I don't remember the details. They don't matter." I noticed he hardly touched his drink. Neither had Bonnie. "The minute the Bernard girl said her aunt drowned I knew something was up. Parker has what? Four thousand people? You have two women drowning in the same waters the same week in a town of four thousand and it makes national news. I called my buddy, Steve, and he confirmed it. Only one woman, and it was not a drowning nor suicide like first believed."

"Now I remember. You're talking about the drowning victim back when you went fishing? Didn't you say she left a goodbye note or something?" I began to understand. "You're saying that was Audrey's aunt? How come it took so long for Audrey to find out?" Larry and Bonnie exchanged glances again. It was like a curtain falling, separating them from me.

"It may feel like a long time, Lella, but it's only been two weeks. The autopsy was done in Tucson, and then the body was returned to Parker." He stopped and looked directly at Bonnie. "Damn! If she died in California and the body got dumped in Arizona, it means the FBI is going to step in. We're screwed. You'll never get the kid's bond lowered." He drank his martini straight down—the whole drink.

"Want a refill?" I hadn't seen J.B. approach. He bent and whispered something in Bonnie's ear. She too gulped her martini, closed her eyes for a minute. I think I held my breath because I felt a sense of doom in the air.

"The neighbor has identified the woman seen leaving the parking garage at about the time the Porsche magically appeared." There was neither joy nor relief in Bonnie's voice. We looked at her. J.B. stood next to her, his hand resting on the back of her chair, a whisper from her shoulder.

"Was it Ruby?" I dreaded the answer.

"No," Bonnie addressed Larry. "It was Carolyn, the agent."

The quiet of the room awoke me. The quiet and the dream. The room I could understand. With my own bedroom being so close to the intersection of the 5 and Pacific Coast Highway, I had become attuned to the constant humming of engines. Here, in Larry's home, high on a hill and surrounded by massive trees, all was stillness, darkness. I didn't want to move, afraid to wake him. His body spooned against mine, his arm draped over my belly, his breathing calm and steady while my mind spun endless versions of the dream. When is a dream a nightmare? In the years since Nick's death I had never dreamt of him, not that I could remember. Why now? Why here?

It had to be connected to Larry's question early in the day. "
Was your husband cheating on you?
" Why the hesitation in my answer? I should have said no, period. I'd been ignoring the ugliness of that reality for years, why stop now?

The digital clock sat on Larry's nightstand. I would have to look over his shoulders to see the time. If I guessed by the darkness it was the middle of the night. When we left Bonnie, Larry drove us to his house. He didn't ask me. It was like a covert understanding. He drove with his hand firmly planted on my knee, his eyes on the road, no conversation. I felt an intense sense of anticipation, a sexual craving that fueled our silence. We went from the garage to the bedroom, shedding our clothes and my inhibitions, ending up on the bed, naked and raw.

I didn't know how long I'd been awake. No matter. I didn't want to close my eyes, afraid to see that image again. There was nothing sinister in the dream sequence. It was Nick's face against a blue background. His image filled the imaginary screen, and all he did was laugh. Laugh. I didn't see myself or anyone else, yet I sensed I was the audience. The more Nick laughed, the more frightened I became. He pointed a finger at me, at the invisible me in the audience, and it felt like the finger reached out from the screen to touch me. I woke up.

Perspiration trickled from my throat to my belly. Long-forgotten details of Nick and Ruby—late-night office meetings and out-of-town conferences—flashed in my mind. I'd learned not to think about it. I wasn't going to revisit that place of sadness.

Nick was dead. Nothing could change that reality. I caught the droplets of sweat with my fingers before they reached Larry's arm. He moved and his hand covered mine, like a shield. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.