Evil in All Its Disguises

by Hilary Davidson

  I finally got Denny to meet with me by employing a subterfuge not unlike what Gavin had done to me. I got Ryan to call her and ask her to come over to his apartment. When she arrived, I was waiting in the living room for her. Jesse was in the next room, pretending to be my bodyguard but mostly just indulging his love of eavesdropping. The police were downstairs, shadowing me as they had since the incident with the SUV. I didn’t expect her to confess and go running into the arms of the NYPD. But I couldn’t let what I knew crush my conscience without saying something.

  I got to Ryan’s very early, which was lucky, since the pouring rain that day only got harder after I arrived. By the time Denny walked in, soaking wet in a black trench coat, pulling a black headscarf off, I was seated on the sofa, sipping a glass of champagne.

  “You have your own key?” I asked. “That’s very trusting of Ryan.”

  “What are you doing here, Lily?” She dropped her umbrella and tossed her coat over a chair next to mine. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and printed blouse that I was pretty sure I’d seen in a Prada display. She was as chic as ever, but there were dark pouches under her eyes, and her skin had broken out so badly that cover cream couldn’t fully hide it.

  “Here’s to being alive,” I said, lifting my glass. “I appreciate that more and more these days. Don’t you?”

  She pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, trying to hide her discomfiture. “I’m still pretty shaken up about everything.”

  “Are you really?” I said. “I guess murder could affect you like that.” I took a sip of champagne while she stared at me. “Skye’s murder,” I clarified. “It must weigh on your conscience.”

  “Lily, you’re sounding a more than a little deranged. I know you’ve been under plenty of stress. But you can’t—”

  “Are you afraid I’m wearing a wire, or carrying a tape recorder?” I shook my head. “I wish. From what I’ve been told by my friends in the NYPD, even if I get you to confess, no one will prosecute you for a murder in Mexico when the victim’s body hasn’t even been found.”

  “Where’s Ryan? Does he know how crazy you are?” Her voice was acid.

  “Ryan went out. He’s a gentleman,” I said. “I don’t expect you to admit you murdered Skye. It’s enough for me to know you did. How are those scratches you were hiding in Acapulco healing up? I’m glad you don’t have to wear that same ratty bandage all the time.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lily.” Her voice was cautious. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “Well, I’m much better now that Gavin isn’t poisoning me anymore. That made me feel pretty awful in Acapulco.”

  “Did Gavin do that?” There was some genuine surprise in her voice. “I wondered when you got sick at lunch. The way he was talking about you… I had a feeling he was up to something.”

  “Yes, Gavin had all kinds of wrong ideas. Which is, I suppose, why you two got along.”

  She stared at me, her face a mixture of sullenness and fury. “I don’t need to listen to this,” she announced, grabbing her coat.

  “Oh, yes, you do. You want to hear how I figured out that you killed Skye. It’s got to be weighing on your mind. What if the police find her body at some point? It would be best to know the case against you.”

  “You have no proof of anything,” Denny said, but she set her coat down again and planted herself in a chair. She wanted to know what I knew.

  “Here’s what I’ve got. On Friday night, you were already at the Hotel Cerón when I got there. You were planning on getting rid of Skye before the press trip even started. You knew Gavin wouldn’t miss her. The timing was great.”

  She didn’t say anything, but her eyes stayed on mine, and she didn’t blink.

  “You told Skye that you had information for her about Pantheon. That’s how you got her to go upstairs with you, to the fourth floor. You knew that whole floor was empty. And you had an all-access key card, so you had your choice of rooms. All you had to do was lead her to one of them, then surprise her by smashing her in the head. By the way, what did you use? I was thinking a candlestick, but I suppose there were all kinds of possibilities.”

  “Do you think you’re being funny?” Denny asked.

  “So, you hit Skye, and she fought back, but all she can do is scratch you before you take her out. What I wonder is, do you think that hitting her killed her? Or was she in shock and did she lie that way until she bled out?”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say. Skye was my friend.”

  “Kind of, sort of her friend. I knew you two were close, but I had no idea you were dating the same man.”

  “If you think I was involved with Gavin, you are out of your mind, Lily.”

  “I mean Ryan.”

  Her eyes turned anxious and she clasped her hands together on her lap, but she didn’t speak.

  “I thought about what your mother said to you,” I explained. “‘You forty-one, you have no husband, no job, no children. You boyfriend just using you till ex-girlfriend come back. You live in Brooklyn!’ Did I miss anything?”

  “No.” Her voice was so soft I barely caught the word.

  “I guess that big portrait Ryan has of Skye on the wall right behind you is a hint that he’s still in love with her, isn’t it?”

  Denny swallowed hard.

  “Ryan was surprised when I asked if you two were dating. He said you’re friends who see each other from time to time. It didn’t sound like he thinks of you as his girlfriend.”

  A plump tear slid out of her right eye and snuck under her designer frames. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered. “He lives and dies on a word from her. Every time she had a problem, she went running to him. If she needed money, he was her bank. She treated him like trash, and all he would say was that her parents’ marriage broke up when she was in college, and that messed up her view of the world. That was the great tragedy of her life, and it was supposed to explain every mean, rotten thing she did.” She wiped the tear away. “She cheated on him when they were together. She was evil, and he couldn’t get her out of his life. I couldn’t even talk to him about it. He would say someone had to be there for her.”

  She made a choking sound and touched her chest, hand over heart. “It was never going to end. She got herself knocked up by Gavin on purpose, because she thought that might make him marry her, the stupid bitch. Gavin wanted her to have an abortion. But Ryan… he was waiting in the wings, ready to swoop in and take care of her and her kid. No matter what awful, manipulative, evil thing she did, she was going to hang around Ryan’s neck like a millstone for the rest of his life.”

  It wasn’t an admission of guilt that would stand up in court, but it was a confession. Her hands shook and she took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

  “Here’s the funny part,” she added. “One time, I told Ryan how to keep her. I said if he acted superior, and cheated on her, and occasionally slapped her around, she’d be hooked on him. As long as he still had his money, of course.”

  “Why didn’t you leave, Denny?”

  “I love him. It’s as simple as that. He’s such a good man.” She took a deep breath. “What are you going to do?”

  “There’s not a lot I can do. Except tell Ryan what I know.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “He deserves to know what I know.” I picked up the glass and put it down again, without drinking. “Here’s what I wonder, Denny: is it all worth it? Now that Skye is gone, are your problems fixed?”

  She held my eyes for a moment, but her face crumpled and her shoulders sagged. “Ryan is devastated by her death. He told me he’ll never be able to love anyone else.” Her words were punctuated with little gasps. “Why would you tell Ryan anything? I helped you in Acapulco, Lily. You know that. I wanted to get you away from Gavin, when I found out what he was really doing. I was worried when you got sick, because I knew he was behind it. I tried to help you!”

 
“I know you did, Denny.”

  “Do you know what Skye did? On Friday night, when she came upstairs with me, she was telling me how awful she felt because Gavin was going to hurt you. She wouldn’t tell me what he was planning, only that you were going to suffer. I told her we had to get you out of the hotel, and do you know what she said? It was too late, and Gavin would kill her if she said anything.”

  My mouth went dry. I didn’t answer.

  “She knew Gavin was going to hurt you, but she didn’t care. You know what else Skye said? She was sure she could get you to help with her story before Gavin got rid of you.”

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “You’re not trying to convince me that you killed Skye for me, Denny, are you?”

  “What does it matter why she died? You can’t bring Skye back.”

  “The truth matters.”

  Denny laughed. “The truth is that Skye got what she deserved. What does it matter to you? Why can’t you leave this alone?”

  I set my glass down and got to my feet. “There’s a man named Josef Dietrich who wants me dead because I stumbled on part of Pantheon’s money-laundering operation. He tried to have me killed when I got back to New York. The police have been watching my back and I have to be chauffeured everywhere I go. The police are keeping an eye on Jesse’s building, because Dietrich’s people know I’m staying there and strange men from Little Odessa are constantly checking it out. I can’t walk down a street because Josef Dietrich wants me dead. Do you know when I’ll feel safe again? When I publish the story about what he’s done. Once the truth is out there, he can’t touch me.”

  “So, tell your story about him. Leave Ryan and me out of this.”

  “What do you think will happen if I do that? Will you and Ryan live happily ever after?” I waved my arm around the room. “How would you feel about being the caretaker of Skye McDermott’s shrine for the rest of your life?”

  “Without her around, everything will be different. He just needs time.”

  “Your entire life would be based on a lie,” I said. “You talked about Skye lying to him. You said Ryan deserved better. Is what you’re doing better?”

  “Why do you even care?” she yelled, launching herself toward me. I was sure she would hit me, but she stopped short, looking me over. We were the same height, both slender, both relatively fit. She’d killed someone, but I was willing to bet I’d been in more fights than she ever had. Skye had been tiny and delicate, and she’d been sick when Denny killed her. The medications Skye had been taking were for an extreme form of morning sickness that had left her emaciated and weak.

  “You didn’t just kill Skye,” I said. “You also framed Pete. You wrote emails on Skye’s laptop, and then you planted her computer in his room. That was a clever touch, since you’d already put some of Pete’s drugs in the room where Skye died. Pete was tortured because of you.”

  “You can’t blame me for what Gavin did!”

  I remembered when Apolinar had come into Denny’s room, telling her she needed to leave. Let me tell you what Gavin did, Apolinar had said. He says to me, come, let’s look at Pete’s room. So we go and look around, and what do I find there? Skye’s computer. Just sitting there, all nice, like it’s praying to be discovered. Then I show Gavin, and he starts talking about how he’s going to cut Pete into pieces. I could still hear Denny’s agonized wail. She knew what she’d done to Pete. She was cold enough to frame him, but not cruel enough to avoid feelings of guilt afterwards.

  “You pointed Gavin in Pete’s direction. You knew Gavin was crazy enough to hurt him.”

  “Why can’t you leave everything alone?” she screamed.

  “That was what I used to do.” My voice was quiet. “I left things alone, because I didn’t want them to be my responsibility. Looking back, I wish I’d done things differently. I can’t go back, so all I can do is change what I’m doing now.”

  “I never meant to hurt Pete. I was terrified of Gavin.”

  “Pete’s in a coma now. The doctors don’t know if he’s going to come out of it.”

  “Don’t you understand? I had no choice. If Gavin had suspected me, he would have—” Her voice broke and she started to sob. “I can’t sleep,” she said. “I think about Pete… and Skye. Even though she deserved it, I can’t…”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t comfort her, and I couldn’t think of any other words.

  It took her a while to regain her composure. “So that’s it,” she said, wiping her face. “You’re going to ruin my life?”

  “Like you said, Denny, I have no proof. Maybe Ryan won’t even believe me.”

  “Don’t do it before Skye’s memorial,” she said. “Please.”

  “Why should I wait?”

  “Don’t interrupt Ryan’s mourning with this. He’s already suffering so much. Please don’t do that to him. Hearing this would kill him.”

  “For all I know, Josef Dietrich’s people will kill me before Skye’s memorial,” I said. “I can’t promise you anything.”

  We faced off silently. She surprised me by picking up the champagne flute I’d left for her and downing it in one long swallow. I heard a sound and suddenly Jesse was in the doorway.

  “Sorry, but I got kinda worried. It was too quiet,” he said.

  Denny stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  “I guess that went about as well as anyone could hope for, huh?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t know what I expected,” I admitted. “I half-expect her to come back and shoot me.”

  “Does it make you feel all important, havin’ all these people want to kill you?” He grinned at me. “I gotta hang out with you to get excitement in my life, y’know.”

  “All I want is peace and quiet.”

  “Ha. You know who you remind me of? Al Capone. He once said, ‘I want peace and I will live and let live!’ Somethin’ like that, anyways. You couldn’t do it any more than he could. You’ll be stirrin’ up hornet’s nests wherever you go.”

  “Do you want some champagne?” I asked him.

  “Nah. Too fancy. Do we have to wait for Ryan to come home or can we go?”

  “He gave me a key. I just have to leave it with the doorman. Give me a minute, okay?” I went down the hall, turning into a bathroom that was painted the dusky pink of a Caribbean sunset. I closed the door and braced myself at the sink.

  She was sure she could get you to help with her story before Gavin got rid of you.

  I didn’t want to believe that. There was a good chance Denny was lying, or at least exaggerating. Why that one line rang through my head, I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t that it was true, it was just that I feared it was, and that made my eyes hot and watery.

  There was another version of the story. What had Ellis Burke said? She was going to stick close to you all weekend because she knew you were in danger. For all I knew, Skye had said both things, and meant them. It didn’t matter; I knew which one I’d keep.

  I heard a phone ring; Jesse answered it and laughed, making me smile.

  Just breathe, Honey Bear. Sometimes I had to be reminded of that. I splashed some cold water on my face. There wasn’t anything more I could do for Skye.

  When I came out of the bathroom, Jesse said, “You wanna hear somthin’ funny? The cops called up to check if you were still here. They wanted to know if you snuck out.”

  “Why would they think that?” I was baffled.

  “I guess girls in leopard-print trench coats all look alike to them, at least on a dark and stormy night. Ready to go?”

  “Sure.”

  “Woohoo. Hey, where’s your coat?”

  “Right there.” I stared at the chair where my raincoat had been. It was a bright leopard-print; in this room, given Skye’s own love of the pattern, it didn’t stand out in this room as much as it would have on the street. But it was gone, and I only saw Denny’s black trench coat, still sopping wet.

  “How could she grab the wrong coat
?” Jesse asked.

  I stared at it. Denny and I were wearing black boots and black skirts; she’d had a black scarf over her hair, as I had over mine, and a black umbrella. It took a moment for what she’d done to sink in.

  “She didn’t take the wrong one,” I said. “I think Denny knew exactly what she was doing.”

  EPILOGUE

  On the day that my piece about the money-laundering operation at Pantheon was published, Martin stepped down as CEO of the company. He made a terse statement about how Pantheon needed a thorough housecleaning, and how he welcomed a government investigation and would do anything necessary to cooperate. He would be bringing in a CEO from outside the company, since the current board had resigned under duress and was under investigation. Josef Dietrich had made front-page news on two continents by dying in a swan dive from the balcony of a Pantheon tower in Budapest; he’d been drinking heavily that night, so there was much speculation over whether it was an accident or a suicide.

  Martin didn’t make any comment about his illness, but his public appearance set tongues wagging. He was as stylish as usual, and as irreverent. He added, as a parting shot, that he was staying on as chairman of the board. I took that as a nod to Frank Sinatra—whose nickname was, in fact, Chairman of the Board—and it made me smile. Afterwards, he and Ridley had lunch with Jesse and me at One If By Land, Two If By Sea. It was a savvy move on Martin’s part. It showed that he approved of the story I’d written, and it made him look stronger than he felt. I couldn’t help but watch his hands while we ate. His left had developed a strange twitch, and I knew enough about the disorder to realize that the nerve endings were being stripped away. He didn’t talk about it, but I couldn’t help wonder what his life would be like when the only sensation he was left with was pain.