“Was Anthony Vine there?”
“He was there with his sons. Poor kids. They looked devastated. Jennifer Jackson was there too. She and her husband were sitting in the front row with the family.”
“In the front row? Interesting.” Lauren got up and went around the table to get the card. When she reached for it, Mark grabbed her wrist and stood up. He brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her, erasing whatever thought had been running through her mind.
The house was quiet, the only sound Lauren could hear was her own heart beating. Pulling him down onto the floor, she fumbled with his buttons. His mouth was on her throat, her lips, her chest. “Lauren,” he whispered in her ear, as she twisted underneath the weight of his body. He slipped her pants down and she kicked them away. The hurt, the jealousy, the questions, buried themselves in their ache for each other.
They made love on the floor as the sun sank down into evening. When they were both spent and exhausted, they lay in each other’s arms, wrapped in a throw blanket from the couch.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked softly.
“We should try to be together, if we can manage it.” He wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger, then let it uncurl off.
She propped herself up on her elbow to look down on him. “What is that? Your wife gets you and I get the crumbs? I can’t do that.”
“I love my son. I don’t regret that. I don’t regret him. And I would do it all over again just for him. You always put your girls first; you know what that’s like. I have to put him first. I do love you. I always have.” He slid his hand around her neck and pulled her down for a lingering kiss.
Pulling back, she studied his eyes. “You love your wife.”
“Not like I love you.”
“But you’re not going to leave her, either.”
He paused, like he was going to say something else, then thought better of it. “Not yet.”
The simple truth of it was enough to make her cry. She knew she would give in to him, take his crumbs. This was what she had been afraid of, letting him back in and not being able to keep him. That was why she had resisted so long his offers of dinner or drinks. The feeling of his fingers entwined with hers brought back such memories. Memories of what they could have had.
“So now what?” she asked.
“Now I go home to my wife and son and I stay one hundred percent honest with you and we stay together until we have it figured out.”
“That sounds like a great deal for you. Not so hot for me.”
He kissed her again. “It’s the best I can do right now.”
“The best you can do is make me the other woman this time?”
He pulled his face up to her and looked into her eyes. “I won’t hurt you. Not now. Now that I know what I lost in you. I’m here for as long as you want me.”
“What if I ask you to go away? I don’t want just a piece of you. I don’t want this.”
“If we could stay away from each other, we would have. Some people go their whole lives and never feel this way, Lauren. I know it sounds stupid. We had passion and we were exciting. I wish I had met Amanda first so I could have had this last.”
“That’s right off a Hallmark card. You make it sound so pretty. We weren’t married long enough for it to get boring. You don’t know what you did to me when you left.”
“I know what I did. You don’t think I know it every day? Amanda knew I wanted kids and you didn’t want any more right away. You don’t think I think about being weak and getting trapped by her? And I’m not blaming her because I let myself get trapped, but what do you think that does to a marriage? Amanda and I both know that if it wasn’t for our son, she and I wouldn’t be together.”
There was a long silence that neither of them wanted to break. It was easier to pretend things were different. It was easier to think the only reason Mark left was because he accidently knocked up his secretary. It was easier to enjoy the moments of this fantasy before the reality set in again. The reality was he was a cheat. Plain and simple. He cheated on Lauren and now he was cheating on Amanda. She tried to rationalize that at least she knew. She wouldn’t be caught off guard this time. She could protect herself from being hurt.
“Do you have to go?”
“Not yet.”
She settled back into the crook of his arm and traced the plains of his chest with her finger. He would have to leave, just not yet. She had him again for a few more minutes. “By the way,” she added, “thank you for the flowers.”
His brow creased. “I didn’t send you any flowers.”
23
Joe splashed his face with cold water and looked in the mirror. He was in his house with the air-conditioning cranking and still sweating like a meatloaf. His shirt was almost soaked through. That runt of a defense attorney had pulled a cutie on him in the courtroom that day. A cutie, that’s what the city cops call a bullshit move. Lauren’s face didn’t even look that bad. No stitches. It wasn’t even really an assault. But that little jerk-off lawyer had pulled a cutie and caught him off guard. He’d know better next time.
Still, there was not much left to do on the case from his end except testify in front of the grand jury and get the toxicology reports. There was no defense this kid could possibly use against the evidence they had. He might as well plea to the charge and reserve his room for the next twenty-five years to life.
What he couldn’t figure out, no matter how hard he puzzled over it, was why Lauren was on the case. Why Violanti would even hire her. And why she would even take it. She was supposed to be a hotshot now. The best. What a joke.
He glanced at the time on his cell phone. It was almost nine o’clock. The sun was setting later now and he had to wait until it was dark. He walked out of his house and drove to the city. Lauren’s house was in a gated community. That wasn’t a problem. He flashed his badge to the security guard and he was allowed to pass. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to stop by. He was just going to do a little surveillance. The first thing that caught his eye as he passed the beautiful gray Colonial was the silver Lexis parked behind her Ford. He looped around and pulled a pen from the visor. He managed to jot the plate down without having to stop. He nodded to the security guard on the way out. It was getting late; he’d run the plate first chance he had alone at the station.
24
Mark Hathaway left around ten that Wednesday night. Lauren had crawled in bed, tired and happy. She didn’t want to stop and think about what she was doing. If she did, she might end it and she didn’t want to end it. She wanted Mark. Even if it was only once a week or once a month, she would settle for that. She wanted to be selfish instead of noble.
She woke up early the following Saturday morning, enjoying the sun pouring through the kitchen windows after two days of spinning wheels on Vinita’s case. Truth be told, the kitchen was her favorite room in the house. She wasn’t much of a cook, but the back windows overlooked her garden, which was in full bloom. Shasta daisies, black-eyed Susans, and yellow rose bushes mixed in her rock garden. They were simple sturdy plants that reappeared every year like magic. Sometimes she would take her coffee outside and sit on the back patio to enjoy the quiet in the middle of the city. A mile in any direction would take you out of her gated oasis and back into the urban chaos. Right there, in her back garden, you would think you were the only person in the world. Watching her girls play among the flowers as they grew up had been her favorite pastime. Back there, with her watching, nothing could touch them. Now she could sit in her kitchen, sipping her Jamaican Blue Mountain, and call back those memories and her daughters didn’t seem so far away.
Lauren sat waiting for the phone to ring, as it did every Saturday morning. Lindsey and Erin would call and check in. And they did, right on time. Lauren made sure that she was home for each call, waiting every weekend with coffee in hand. One would call and then
the other would click in and they would three way. It was as close to being with her girls again as Lauren could get.
“I think I’m going to get my tongue pierced,” Erin told her, then waited for her reaction.
“That’s fine, I’ll get your face tattooed on my forearm the day after you pierce it. Maybe I’ll use that third-grade picture of you missing your front tooth.”
Lindsey snickered into the phone. “Don’t do it, Erin. You know she’ll get the tattoo.”
“Linds, cut it out. Mom, you wouldn’t.”
“I’m just telling you so you won’t be shocked.”
Erin wisely dropped the subject.
Lindsey was coming home for the weekend in mid-August. Erin wouldn’t be back until the last week of August, right before school started, hopefully unpierced. After a half hour of gabbing, they said their goodbyes. Lauren felt the emptiness of her house creep in as she hung up with her girls.
She waited awhile after her Saturday updates from the girls to call the number scrawled on the back of the business card. She wanted to mull over the events of the last few days. Before she could start to beat herself up over Mark, she decided to get back on the David Spencer case. That was the best Band-Aid she had.
When the man answered the phone, she recognized the name. Bill Kowalski had been on the Buffalo Police Department for thirty years. Now he was doing divorce investigations for Jenson, Peters and Grace. He recognized her name too; although they had never met, they ran in the same circles.
“Listen kid, she paid up front and now she’s dead and I have the report I prepared for her. I’d be remiss if I didn’t contact you. Can we meet?”
They agreed to meet up at a coffee shop in the theater district at one o’clock. Around noon the skies clouded up and it began to rain. Flocks of pigeons rose from the streets as Lauren drove through the steamy downpour. Caught by the surprise deluge, the birds darted into trees and bushes. Rain popped off her windshield in little bursts as her wipers furiously tried to push the water away.
The shopkeepers began rounding up the outside tables and chairs in front of the cafes and bistros as she parked her car at a meter. She checked herself in her rearview mirror. Lauren wore a blue sleeveless shirt and khaki crop pants, her hair swept up in a ponytail. It felt good to be in casual clothes after wearing suits all week. She grabbed her umbrella, then hopped out of her car and into the rain.
She made sure she called Violanti before she went to the meeting and told him about this new tip. Lauren left out the part about Mark. That was none of Violanti’s business. The tinkling of bells greeted her as she pushed the door open, shaking her umbrella out under the awning before she went in.
As soon as she stepped in the door, Lauren recognized Bill. Cops, even retired ones, have a certain air about them. He was in his early sixties, sitting with his back to the wall of the small java shop, drinking black coffee. He was built like a prizefighter, his shirtsleeves rolled up over his forearms. He had his huge hands wrapped around the coffee mug, making it look like it was from a kid’s tea set.
Back in the day, Bill Kowalski had been a legend in the Homicide office. He had retired from the city police force about two years before Lauren made detective. Still, his stories were repeated to the new guys in the squad. Lauren heard the other detectives tell how he used to wear his trademark black trench coat, no matter what the weather, to homicide scenes. How he’d have a cigar hanging out of his mouth during autopsies, dripping ash onto the bodies. How he refused to go to a semi-automatic when the city switched over, choosing to wear his six-shot dangling precariously from his waist in an ancient holster instead. How he once dangled a child molester by his ankles from a third-story window.
Some people said he spread that last rumor himself.
Now he sat with a shiny brown briefcase and a cell phone on his hip, instead of a revolver.
He waved her over. The aroma of the brewing coffee engulfed her as she walked toward him, making the shop inviting after the downpour. Sliding into the booth across from him, she ordered a bottle of water from the waitress who came by. Outside, the rain was pounding against the sidewalk. Lauren leaned her umbrella against the wall.
“Don’t you drink coffee?”
She smiled. “I already drank a whole pot. My heart might explode if I consume any more caffeine.”
He took a long sip from his mug and said, “They didn’t make cops as good-looking as you when I came on the job.”
“Thanks.” If it had been anyone else, she might have been offended. He was from a different time, a different way of policing. “They don’t make cops like you at all, anymore.”
He chuckled at that one, then got down to business. “Listen kid, I normally wouldn’t do this for a defense team, but I asked around and the guys I know said you were okay, and I think this stuff is important.”
“You were working for Katherine Vine?”
“Yeah.”
“She was divorcing Anthony?”
“That I don’t know. She approached Peters and said she wanted to be sure before she made any decisions. The law firm gave her my name and she hired me about a month and a half ago.”
“What wasn’t she sure of?”
“She wanted to be sure her husband was fooling around with Jennifer Jackson.”
“Was he?”
He slid a picture over to her. “What do you think?”
The picture was obviously zoomed in from a distance through a window. It showed Anthony Vine with his fake tan and nothing else. He was kissing a blond woman on a bed.
“How do you know it’s Jennifer Jackson?”
“Look at the next one. I got a clear shot.” The next photo showed Anthony Vine and Jennifer Jackson walking out a door. She had a gym bag over her shoulder. It was the same bag that was sitting next to the bed in the first picture.
“Where were these taken?”
“It’s a condo he keeps on the waterfront. He bought it about two years ago. Supposedly, it’s for business guests.”
Lauren looked up. “Katherine saw these?”
“The day before she was murdered.”
“Did she tell you what she was going to do?”
“She told me she was going to confront him. I told her it wasn’t a good idea until she had retained a lawyer. She told me to hold onto these and she’d call me this week, when she figured out what she was going to do.”
“What did she need to figure out?”
He held up another document he had fished out of his briefcase. “This is a copy of their prenuptial agreement. It limits her to a one-time cash payout of seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The poor kid didn’t know any better when she signed it. She was very young at the time.”
“She would’ve gotten child support on top of that.”
“That’s what I said. She told me Vine had threatened to seek sole custody of the kids if she ever left him. He’d been sending her to a shrink for two years and she was on all kinds of medication for depression. He wanted to make her think she was crazy for suspecting he was having an affair. He tried to control every move she made.”
“Do you think she was depressed?” Lauren was interested in what a guy like Bill thought of Katherine’s mental state.
“If I was married to a scumbag like that, I would be depressed too. She loved those kids. She wouldn’t put them through a custody battle if she didn’t have to. I think she would’ve tried to work things out first.”
“So you think she confronted him about the affair?”
“I don’t know. I just think it’s quite a coincidence she conveniently gets murdered by some kid the day after she gets proof of her husband’s affair. And I don’t believe in coincidences.” He pulled a stack of papers out of his brief case. “I made copies for you. She was a nice girl. She didn’t deserve to be married to that guy and she sure as h
ell didn’t deserve to get strangled. I hope it helps.”
Lauren took the copies and put them in her bag, “How did she pay you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Cash. She said she had to pawn some of her jewelry so he wouldn’t find out. She only had a credit card so he would always know how much money she spent.”
“What a prince.”
“Yeah. But listen, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was keeping tabs on her in other ways too. She said he always knew where she went, where she’d been. We had to meet behind her hair salon. At first I thought she was just being paranoid. Now I’m not so sure.”
“You think he had a GPS on her car she didn’t know about?”
“I do. He and that Jennifer Jackson both had a lot to lose if their affair became public. Katherine said Jackson had also signed into a prenup. And her husband is worth multimillions. A lot more than goofy Anthony Vine. I think that’s why Katherine might have thought she had a shot to end the affair. Jackson had even more to lose than she did. Maybe Katherine thought if she told Anthony she had proof, he would stop making her go to the doctors and straighten up.”
Lauren considered this. “Which begs the question: if I were a good-looking wife of a multimillionaire, why would I risk everything to roll in the hay with a middle-aged gym rat?”
Bill shrugged. “Boredom? The thrill of getting caught? No chance of Anthony Vine ever convincing Jennifer Jackson to leave her husband, that’s for sure.”
“Is there anyone else you can think of that I should talk to? Did Katherine mention any friends she might have confided in?”
“She has a sister in town. I heard she wants custody of the boys, but that’s not going to happen. I don’t know her name. I’m sure you can figure it out. She may be able to tell you more.”
A Cold Day in Hell Page 9