Thugs and Kisses (17 page)

“Victor and I were over, but he was still supporting me as a friend.” She sniffed and so did I, but for different reasons. “Two months ago, Donny and I had a particularly nasty fight, and he struck me several times—blackened my eye and almost sent me through a window. It was the first time he’d ever hit me, but I remembered what he did to Jill that time—almost killed her. The next day, I called Victor and he came by. We’ve met several times since. He’s been helping me make plans for leaving Donny—things like hiding money, gathering evidence to help me fight Donny in court, even setting up a safe place for me to go and start over with the girls, if need be.”

A safe place. I thought about the woman and child I’d seen at Karen Meek’s office. But no place would be completely safe until the tormenter was gone. Prisons were filled with women who had killed their abusers.

“Do the police know about Victor Morales?”

Cindy looked at me and shook her head.

“They didn’t ask you about any lovers, past or present, nothing like that?”

“They did, but I didn’t tell them about Victor. As for others, until then, there had never been anyone except Donny.” She swallowed. “I knew Donny had been cheating on me for years, but I didn’t know any specific names to give the police.”

Sally and I looked at each other, our eyes communicating the same thought.

Cindy gasped. “You can’t believe Victor and I had anything to do with this!”

“You knew about Victor and Cindy?”

“Yes and no,” I said to Sally as I rummaged through my tote bag.

After saying goodbye to Cindy and Mrs. Poppin, we climbed back into Sally’s Jeep and headed for the highway. We were almost back on the 5 Freeway when I asked Sally to pull over. She made a turn into a parking lot for a Burger King and pulled into a spot near the back.

“Johnette told me at the reunion that she thought Victor was having an affair. She followed him once and saw him with a pretty young woman.”

“Cindy’s very pretty, but she’s not that young.”

“Younger than us,” I observed. “And from a distance, with that nice figure and long, blond hair, she could look a lot younger.”

“True.” Sally watched me root around in my bag. “What are you looking for?”

“My address book. Johnette wrote down her address and phone number for me at the reunion. I didn’t have time to transfer it into my address book, but I remember sticking the paper in there.”

I finally located the small, red, leather-bound address book and flipped through it. About two-thirds into it was stuck a folded piece of paper with the information I wanted. I held it up to Sally in triumph.

“How do you feel about paying the Moraleses a little visit?”

“Right now?”

“Why not? Unless you’ve got a hot date.”

She hesitated. “Actually, I do. It’s our anniversary, Jill’s and mine.”

Suddenly, a hot, searing pain of envy shot through me. Sally had a life—a life with Jill—and I had left my chance at a similar life back at my townhouse with instructions to lock up. Still, I don’t know how I could have handled that differently at that given point in time. I choked down the urge to cry and plastered a mostly sincere smile on my face.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Sally beamed at me before her glow diminished. She turned in her seat and reached out to gently stroke my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Odelia, it’s going to be okay between you and Greg.”

I sniffed, took a tissue from my bag, and blew my nose. “I wish I had your confidence.”

“You’ll see. And if for some reason you cannot patch things up, there will be someone else even better for you. You are too wonderful not to have someone special.” She paused. “That detective you brought to the reunion seemed rather stuck on you.”

I sniffed again. “That’s part of the problem, though not all of it.” After one more blow into the tissue, I said, “Thanks, Sally, you’ve been rather wonderful yourself.” I looked at her. “Too bad we didn’t become friends sooner.”

She gave me a warm smile before glancing at the dashboard clock. “It’s only about four thirty now. Jill’s and my dinner reservations are for eight. We could squeeze in a visit to Johnette and Victor if they live close by.”

“You don’t have to go, Sally.”

“No, I want to, especially after what Cindy told us. Seems like Victor should be on the suspect list, if he’s not already.”

“I agree.” I looked at the address. “They live in La Mirada. That’s pretty close.”

“Figures, especially since Victor and Cindy were at the same car dealership.”

Sally reached behind my seat and pulled out a Thomas Guide for Los Angeles County. “This is rather old, but it should still get us there.”

I looked up the address from the slip of paper on the street guide and followed it back to where we were currently located.

“Doesn’t look like it’s more than four or five miles away.”

Before we took off, I called the number on the slip. On the second ring, I got Victor.

“Hi, Victor, it’s me, Odelia.” I paused. “Guess what? Sally Kipman and I are just a couple of miles away and thought how much fun it would be to stop by and say hello … if you folks have time, that is.” I listened again. “Great, we’ll be there shortly.” Another pause. “Uh-huh, no, don’t worry, we have the address. See you soon.”

After closing the cell phone, I turned to Sally. “Victor said Johnette went grocery shopping but should be home very soon. He thought our visit would be a nice surprise for her.”

“With any luck, we might get some time alone with him while we’re at it.”

“You’re reading my mind.”

As we pulled out of the parking lot, I noted a motorcycle parked between two cars near the entrance of the restaurant. The motorcycle was bright green and sporty, like a racing bike. The rider was perched on it, helmet on. I could have sworn I’d seen that bike a few minutes earlier as we left the Oliver house.

“Sally, do you recall seeing that motorcycle before?”

She looked over at it and shrugged. As she did, the rider turned away from us and looked in the direction of the front door of Burger King, lowering the visor.

“No, looks to me like he’s just waiting for someone.”

“Probably.”

Giving Sally directions from the map, we were in front of Johnette’s home in less than fifteen minutes. It was a pleasant-looking ranch-style home in peach stucco, located on a quiet cul-de-sac. Most of the front area was taken up by a wide driveway that could easily accommodate several cars on one side and that branched off toward the garage on the other side. I remembered that Johnette and Victor had two grown sons. The driveway must have come in handy when all of them were coming and going in separate cars. The lawn and landscaping on the sides of the driveway and garage and in front of the house were beautifully maintained.

We pulled into the drive. Before we rang the doorbell, the door opened and Victor stood in front of us, wearing jeans and a loose Hawaiian shirt. He seemed genuinely happy to see us, which made me feel guilty, considering the real root of the visit was hardly social.

“What a nice surprise. Come on in—Johnette will be so happy to see you girls.”

He steered us inside and through a spacious living room that held an impressive grand piano. On the far wall were sliding glass doors that looked out onto a tidy lawn, patio, and large pool. Unlike the Oliver home, which had oodles of natural vegetation surrounding its hilltop perch, the plants in and around the Moraleses’ yard were planned and cultivated and as manicured as my nails. The patio doors were open to the fall breeze.

“I see Johnette still plays the piano,” I said as we followed him into the kitchen and to a large dining nook surrounded by large windows on two sides. He invited us to sit at a large oak table with fake antique high-back chairs. Each chair held a ruffled cushion that matched the window curtains, wallpaper, and even the kitchen towels and appliance covers. The place was cute but too matchy-matchy for my taste.

“Yes, in fact, after she quit teaching two years ago, she started giving private lessons.”

“Why did she quit teaching?” asked Sally.

“When budgets started getting slashed, she found it too stressful, and the kids were so disrespectful, not at all like when she started out.”

“My son is a teacher,” Sally commented. “It’s scary what some kids are into these days.”

Victor smiled sadly. “She still does some substitute work but prefers to just have a few private piano students. Once our boys grew up and left home, we didn’t need the second income as much.”

“You’re a school principal now, as I recall from the reunion.”

While Sally chitchatted, I surveyed the room, noting all of the family photos scattered about. Tacked to the refrigerator were a couple of masterpieces by small children.

“Yes, I am, at a high school. I started out as a coach and math teacher.” He rose from the table. “Would you like some coffee?”

We’d just been plied with coffee at Cindy’s, but I didn’t want to seem impolite. “Do you have something cold to drink?”

“How about some lemonade? Johnette makes it fresh, like her mother always did. No concentrated lemonade in this house.”

“Sounds great,” Sally said.

As soon as Victor turned to get our drinks, Sally widened her eyes and nodded at me as if to say
what are you waiting for?
Something told me this time she wouldn’t be kicking me under the table.

The lemonade was delicious, a bit on the tart side, with an unusual bite to it. If I remembered, or if it wasn’t too tacky after my nosing around, I’d have to get the recipe for Zee. Great lemonade is one of her favorite things.

I was trying to decide how to open a dialogue when Victor did it for me.

“What brings you out this way?” he asked us. “I know you live in Newport Beach, Odelia. What about you, Sally?”

“I live in Orange County, too—in Lake Forest.”

“We were visiting Cindy Oliver, paying our respects.” I watched his face for a reaction and wasn’t disappointed. He almost paled. “They don’t live very far from here,” I added.

Quickly, he collected himself. “That’s right, they don’t.”

“Did you stay in touch with Donny after high school?”

He shook his head and took a sip of lemonade. “Not really. We went to different colleges. I saw him at the five-year reunion, and we met occasionally after that for a couple of beers. But it’d been years since I’d seen him, until last Saturday. He was a big-shot VP at a national sporting goods company and I taught high school—not exactly the same circle.”

“What about Cindy, how well do you know her?”

Victor got up abruptly from the table and strode over to the kitchen sink. He still held his glass of lemonade in his hand. When he turned around, I thought he was going to throw it at us. Instead, he put it down on the counter and covered his face with both hands for a moment. When he took them away, his eyes were wet.

“I know Cindy Oliver very well, but I suppose you already know that.”

Sally and I both nodded.

“And I suppose you’ll feel obliged to tell Johnette.”

“She already thinks you’re having an affair, Victor. She told me so at the reunion. She followed you at least once, but I don’t think she knows who you were seeing.”

“She followed me?”

“That’s what she told me.”

He turned back to the sink and hung his head while gripping the edge of the counter. “The thing with Cindy has been over quite awhile. It started up quite by accident. She was miserable with Donny. Johnette was going through some issues and we hadn’t been intimate for a very long time, not physically or emotionally.”

“Issues? Was she sick?”

“Johnette went into a very bad depression just after she retired from teaching.” He turned back to face us. “In fact, the depression was one of the reasons she quit teaching, but it got worse after she left her job. She was in and out of a residential facility for a while, and when she was home she was almost a zombie from the meds. I was slipping into a depression myself over it.”

“That’s when you and Cindy hooked up?”

“Yes. We found each other and gave each other strength, but we both knew it was only temporary. We finally broke it off but remained close. We kept tabs on each other, supported each other through e-mails and phone calls, but the affair itself came to an end.”

It was the same story Cindy had given us. “And Johnette is much better now?”

He nodded. “I finally took her to a new doctor, one Cindy recommended, and it has made all the difference in the world. She still has low periods, but they’re manageable. Most days she’s her old self.” He smiled.

My throat was getting scratchy again. I took a drink of my lemonade before continuing. “Johnette saw you with Cindy recently, so you are still seeing her, at least in some capacity.”

He moved back to the table, but instead of sitting down, he stood with his hands on the back of a chair. His face was growing haggard. “Didn’t Cindy tell you why?”

“We’d like to hear it from you.”

He told us about Cindy getting a beating from Donny and how she called him for help in making the break. Again, it was pretty much what she’d told us. Once he was done, he looked us over with open suspicion.

“Why are you two nosing around? Why can’t you just mind your own business and let us solve our own problems?”

“Because we’re both suspects in Donny’s murder, and you’re not,” Sally said in an even tone. “Seems to me you should be on that list either with us or in our place.”

“You two are suspects?”

“Yes, especially me.” Sally sighed. “Did you know that Donny was the father of my son?”