Skully, Perdition Games

by L E Fraser

  Sam looked at her sneaker and frowned. A dime-sized hole had punctured the canvas and blood leaked through. It hurt, but wasn’t too bad.

  “Goddamn it, look what you did to my shoe. The only thing I hate more than shopping is wrestling anorexic women to the ground.” She turned the stun gun over in her hand. “Naughty girl, Sonia, these aren’t legal. Did Derek buy it for you?”

  “What do you want?”

  Sam sat on the sofa. “Let’s start with why you’re lying about being with Derek the night Gabriella disappeared.”

  “He wasn’t here.”

  Sam laughed. “Okay, you were all by your lonesome. Your little scrapbook in there strongly implies you have something to do with Gabriella’s disappearance. Let’s give the cops a call.” She reached for her cell phone.

  “That’s my personal stuff. You can’t give it to the cops. I’m not a suspect, I was here and can prove it,” she said.

  Sam rolled her eyes. “I know. Your office called your landline. I suspect you also spoke with a neighbour or popped out to the convenience store.” She shrugged. “Something to ensure you had a great alibi and couldn’t be at the Martinas’ house at the time of the incident. You don’t need to be at the scene of a crime to be involved.”

  “What? No way. Is that what you think?”

  “You work with disreputable people. You strike me as a girl who knows how to finagle what she wants. You’re in love with Derek Martina and you hated Gabriella. Solid motive for conspiring to murder.”

  The colour drained from the woman’s face. “I wanted him to divorce her. I never wanted her dead.”

  Sam smiled. “But Derek wasn’t going to divorce his wife, was he?”

  Sonia licked her lips and lowered her eyes.

  “Did you pay someone to kill Gabriella?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want the kids. I wanted Derek to leave her and give her sole custody.”

  “That’s not how it looks,” Sam said. “Defacing Gabriella’s picture tells a different story.”

  Sonia was quiet for a minute and then she said, “Fine, Derek was here that night. He didn’t go to the airport. He came over all pissed off about his wife being fired. Are you happy?”

  “Why would you lie?” Sam asked.

  “He’s an asshole, and he’s getting what he deserves.” Sonia started to cry, her face twisting with hate.

  “What did he do that made you want to destroy him?”

  “He was selling the condo and putting me out on my ass. Have you any idea how hard it is to find affordable space downtown?”

  Derek’s girlfriend was tall with huge breast implants that were out of proportion to her physical frame. Expensively styled, short blond hair framed a round face with large blue eyes and full lips. She was pretty and spent time and money accentuating her natural assets, but she didn’t hold a candle to Gabriella’s ethereal beauty.

  “What else does he pay for?” Sam asked, eyeing Sonia’s black and gold sandals with the iconic Walter Steiger’s curvy heel design signature. Her sister, Joyce, had been a label chaser and had owned a pair.

  “The condo fees,” she glanced down at her shoes, “and he gave me a credit card for clothes and stuff.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment when she added, “My student loans are killing me. Derek promised to refer me to a decent firm after the election. He said it was a conflict of interest while he was practising law full-time.” She laughed and wrapped her arms around her thin waist. “How stupid am I to believe that making a recommendation to another lawyer was a fucking conflict of interest?”

  “The night Gabriella disappeared did Derek say why he wanted to sell the condo?”

  “He said he couldn’t afford it. Said he was broke. He told me it was fun but it was over. I was a luxury he couldn’t afford. The prick said he didn’t want any dirt coming up while he ran for office and that included me.” She cried harder. “Like I was a fucking prostitute.”

  Dumped by her sugar daddy, it was starting to make sense. Sam sighed. “That’s why you lied. It was payback.”

  She wiped the back of her hand across her nose and nodded.

  “Derek could go to jail,” she pointed out. “Do you hate him that much?”

  “Does it matter anymore?” Sonia asked. “Everything’s over. I lied at the examination for discovery under oath. I’ll be disbarred.” She stood and walked to the kitchen, speaking to Sam over her shoulder. “That’s gotta be a record. I only completed the call to the bar in January.”

  Sam followed her and leaned against the counter, shaking her head when Sonia offered the frozen bottle of vodka.

  “That fucking prick ruined me,” Sonia said. “He wasn’t even any good in bed.”

  “You have to recant and tell the truth,” Sam told her.

  Sonia nodded. “When I got home from signing the statement, I knew I was fucked. I don’t know why I did it. I was just so pissed off. I didn’t consider the consequences.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. “I’ll lose my job and have to move back to Winnipeg. My dad’s going to love that. He always said I was a whore.” She walked into the living room, drinking from the bottle of Grey Goose.

  “Do you want me to take you to Derek’s lawyer? You can recant to him. He’ll help you.”

  Sonia laughed. “Right. Like the famous Jim Stipelli is going to cut me any slack.”

  “He’s a good guy. Don’t sell him short.”

  Sonia stood staring out the window. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. What’s wrong with women? Why do we fall in love with selfish assholes?” She sighed. “I met him at a bar. I was with a date when Derek sauntered over to the table with two martinis. He leaned down and said to me, ‘We’re going to share an extraordinary experience. We’re going to fall in love.’ He handed me one of the martinis and walked away.” She took a long drink from the bottle of vodka. “I went to that bar every night for two weeks, hoping to see him again. He suckered me with a line he’s probably used a hundred times.”

  Sam took the bottle from her hand. “Every woman can tell a similar story. It’s happened to us all at least once.”

  Sonia looked her up and down. “I doubt you ever chased after a jerk with simpering submissiveness, ruining your life in the process.”

  Sam smiled. “You’d be surprised. We need to go now.”

  Sonia picked up her purse and looked around the living room. “I fucking hate white furniture, and my seven-year-old niece could have painted a better picture. Everything Derek picks is shit.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sam

  JULY STARTED BADLY for Sam, and the past two days had been outright awful. First, the Crown refused to believe Sonia’s claim that Derek had been with her when Gabriella made the 911 call. Instead, the evidence the cops had collected from Sonia’s condominium implicated her in the alleged murder. The condo building only stored video surveillance data for fourteen days, and Reece was unable to find any evidence to prove that Derek had been at the building. He had gone door-to-door, trying to find a resident who saw Derek in the garage, the elevator, or the hallway on the night of the incident. Typical for this investigation, he netted nothing.

  Second, yesterday had been her father’s birthday. Sam didn’t agree with reminiscing about a loved one on the date of his death. It was morbid. She enjoyed celebrating her dad’s life and remembering his accomplishments on his birthday. This year, the only achievement that jumped to mind was his talent at lying and living a double life with a second family. It sucked.

  She was coming out of the kitchen when Reece walked through the front door with Brandy.

  “You were up early.” She screwed the lid onto her enormous coffee mug.

  “Sam, are you alright?” he asked in a tone that matched the suspicious expression on his face.

  “Sure, why?”

  “You were roaming around in the middle of the night, and I heard you crying.”


  “Well, yes, I did get up. I had tummy trouble, but I wasn’t crying.” The lie effortlessly slid from her lips. She’d inherited her father’s talent for deceit, apparently.

  In an effort to change the subject, she asked, “What are you up to today?”

  His stare was so intense that she dropped her eyes and pretended to hunt for her keys.

  “I have a meeting with Jim,” he said. “He had the pre-trial meeting with the Crown, and they’ve set a date for the preliminary hearing in the provincial court for July 21.”

  “Oh boy, that’s a couple of weeks away. Does the Crown have enough for the judge to indict?” she asked.

  “It seems so. What are you doing today?” Again, a cop’s suspicious gaze and a cold tone.

  “I’m meeting with one of Gabriella and Derek’s neighbours. Her kids attended school with the Martina kids. I figured I may as well talk to her since she knew Gabriella.” She tugged on her running shoes.

  “Meet me at the office when you’re done. We need to talk.” He gave her a quick kiss and walked out without waiting for her.

  ‘We need to talk’ was never a good thing to hear from your boyfriend. Great, third shitty day in a row.

  SHE DROVE DOWN Inglewood and stopped in front of a large three-storey brick house, parked behind a black Honda Accord, and walked to the front door.

  She rang the bell and waited. No one answered. She peered through the bay window to the right of the candy-apple red door. The glass patio doors at the back of the open-concept space were open, and sheer drapes billowed in the morning breeze.

  She went around the house to the wooden gate that led into the backyard, knocked, and hollered, “Hello.”

  A barrage of barking was her initial greeting, before a cheerful woman’s voice yelled, “Hi. Let me corral the dogs.”

  There was a scuffling of toenails and more barking before the gate opened. The woman held a fawn Pug under one arm, a black Pug under the other, and a second fawn stood at her feet.

  “Sorry,” she said, “getting in and out is an exercise in dexterity and determination.”

  Sam slipped in and closed the gate. “I love dogs. I have a Golden Retriever.”

  The woman placed the two Pugs on the ground. “I know this sounds strange, but I need you to sit on the steps to the deck.”

  The second her butt touched the wooden step, the three dogs assaulted her legs. She patted them, and they wagged their corkscrew tails while pink tongues panted from squished faces lined with wrinkles.

  “Pearl, Porsche, and Cole.” The woman pointed at each in turn. “If a visitor sits on the welcome step, they usually behave. Sam McNamara, I assume?”

  Remaining on the step, Sam held out her hand. “You assume correctly, Mrs. Sousa.”

  The woman was in her mid-forties and was tall and thin with shoulder-length blond hair. She was standing with her feet in ballet’s fourth position. Women with perfect posture intrigued Sam because of the level of self-discipline it took. Then again, she may have been a dancer at one time, which would explain the woman’s natural grace and confident stance.

  Mrs. Sousa walked to a teak patio set beside a large kidney-shaped pool, leaving her on the ‘welcome steps’. Unsure how long she was required to sit while the dogs welcomed her, Sam stayed put.

  Over her shoulder, the woman said, “Call me Cataleya.” She sat at the table and laughed when she looked over at Sam. “Oh, sorry, you can get up. Pop a squat on a chair. There’s coffee.”

  Sam removed Porsche from her lap and joined Cataleya. The three puggies waddled behind her.

  “What a pretty name,” she said.

  Her host laughed. “My parents were hippies. Help yourself to coffee.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk with me.” Sam reached for the decanter of coffee. “Derek told me your kids go to school with his children.”

  Her smile faltered and there was a strange intensity in her face. “My youngest attends North Secondary with Anna, yes.”

  “Are they friends?”

  “No.” Cataleya’s lips pressed together tight.

  Sam didn’t care about the Martinas’ kids, so she dropped it. “How well do you know Derek Martina?”

  “He was over with Gabriella a couple of times for parties, but I haven’t seen either of them for at least two years.” Cataleya took a sip of her coffee. “Gabriella and I used to be friends.” She gazed across the backyard at the garden. “Look, maybe this was a mistake.” She glanced back at Sam. “I don’t know anything about them. I don’t like Derek anyway. Not that I want him to go to prison if he’s innocent, but nothing I can tell you will help him.”

  “Do you believe he murdered his wife?” Sam asked.

  “No.” She snorted. “That would take passion. Derek’s too full of himself to kill anyone.”

  Sam got straight to the point. “Did he have a girlfriend?”

  “Want the list alphabetically or by year?” Cataleya looked disgusted.

  “Was she aware of her husband’s affairs?” Gabriella had told her Derek had a mistress, but Sam was curious to see if she’d told anyone else.

  “She was a smart woman so I assume she knew.”

  “If she was unhappy, why didn’t she leave?”

  “I didn’t say she was unhappy.”

  Sam frowned. “I don’t see how you could be happy when your spouse is cheating on you.”

  “You aren’t married with children, are you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Many women ignore a lot to maintain a certain lifestyle. Add kids and things become complicated.” Cataleya sighed. “As far as the cheating goes, Gabriella didn’t act as if she cared.”

  “What about her, did she have affairs?”

  Cataleya laughed so hard, coffee spilled from the mug she was holding. “Oh gosh, sorry!”

  “Here.” Sam grabbed a napkin and passed it over. “I’m assuming the answer is no.”

  “Not a chance. Gabriella loathed men and hated sex.”

  “She told you that?”

  Cataleya nodded. “As I said, we were friends at one time.”

  Interesting. Hating to engage in sex with your husband could be for a number of reasons, but hating sex in general typically pointed to past trauma.

  Sam decided to start at the beginning. “When did you meet her?”

  Cataleya reached for a pack of cigarettes. “Do you mind? I picked this seat because the smoke will blow away from you.”

  “No problem,” she lied. She hated cigarette smoke.

  “They moved in ten years ago, and we met the first day of school. I invited her for coffee, and, over time, it became a habit.” There was something off about her voice.

  “Did you like her?” Sam asked.

  Smoke hung in the air like floating lace. “I did. Then I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “She changed, but when I say that aloud, I know it’s not true. There were always two sides to her. At times, she was refined. Other times, she was, I don’t know, intense. She could change right before your eyes.”

  “Was she a drinker?” The dinner party had been so uncomfortable Sam couldn’t recall.

  “There wasn’t any correlation between alcohol and her mood swings, if that’s what you mean.” Cataleya fidgeted. “She… well… she changed.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, and then Cataleya spoke. “It was two years ago when her peculiar personality hit home. Starting high school was stressing out Elijah, my son. Gabriella told him that high school was two tours of duty in a vicious war. It was hell and there were casualties. Her advice was to keep his back to the wall, do his time, get out alive, and never look back at the horror. Elijah was hysterical by dinner.”

  Harsh advice for a scared kid. “Did you talk to her about it?”

  “Sure, the next day.” Her eyes were angry. “She denied saying it. When I called her out, she muttered something under her breath and then started shouting and insulting me.” She studied her
earnestly. “She morphed into a different person.”

  “Sounds like she had an anger control problem and couldn’t deal with confrontation,” Sam said. “Did Gabriella ever talk about her sister, Isabella? Or did Derek?”

  “Not really. I mean, I knew she had a sister. They talked on the phone at the kids’ basketball games.” Cataleya sipped her coffee. “Gabriella would excuse herself, and I wouldn’t see her again until it was time to leave.”

  Sam was confused. “Why do you think it was her sister?”

  “She told me it was.”

  “Her sister called her cell?”

  Cataleya shrugged. “I guess so, why?”

  “Did the phone ring?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Did you hear it?”

  “No, she had a Bluetooth headset. What’s going on?”

  Sam licked her lips. “Nothing, just curious.”

  “She doesn’t have a sister, does she?”

  Perceptive woman. “She did,” Sam said, “but she died when they were kids.”

  “Aha,” Cataleya murmured. “You know, every time she was yakking on her phone, I felt she was faking the call.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I figured the telephone call was an excuse to avoid social situations.” She peeked at her watch. “Shoot, it’s almost ten. I need to drag the kids out of bed.”

  Sam stood and remembered the dog. “Do you have any idea where her dog is?”

  “Isn’t he home?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, Derek must be relieved. He doesn’t like dogs, including mine.”

  She was walking toward the gate when something else occurred to her. If Gabriella had faked the telephone calls, maybe she had written the birthday card. “Do you have anything with Gabriella’s handwriting on it?”

  “Not that I recall. She used the computer for invitations and cards, said she was embarrassed by her handwriting.”

  Everyone kept telling them that but it didn’t make sense. The handwriting in the diary was neat, and there was no reason why Gabriella would be embarrassed.