by Gail Bowen
“What’s the problem?” I said.
Zack rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing, but, Jo, I have a bad feeling about where this is headed. Gabe had a lot going for him. He could have afforded gold standard legal representation. Vale is seventeen, above the age of consent. He could have easily argued that his relationship with her was consensual. What he did to Chloe was sickening, but even a halfway decent lawyer could have put together a winning case for him.”
“So there was no reason for him to jump off that balcony,” I said.
“No. We have to consider the possibility that Vickers’s death was something other than suicide. I was watching Debbie’s face, and I can guarantee that possibility hit her too. I just called Nick to reassure myself that he had no part in Vickers’s death, that he’d been home all night and that he was still there.”
“But he wasn’t,” I said.
“No,” Mrs. Szabo said that Nick had dinner and watched a movie with Chloe, and then around nine o’clock, just after Chloe went to bed, he received a phone call. Mrs. S. says when the call ended, Nick was ‘not himself’—her words. Nick has an exercise room in his garage. It’s pretty rudimentary—treadmill, stationary bike, punching bag, weights—but Nick says it does the trick. Since he stopped drinking, that’s where he goes to sweat off his emotions. Mrs. Szabo can see the light in the garage from her suite next to Chloe’s room, and she said Nick was still out there when she went to bed.
“Sometime in the middle of the night, Nick knocked on her door, apologized for waking her, and said there was something he had to look after. Mrs. S. suggested he wait till morning, but Nick said it couldn’t wait. She checked his bedroom when I called, and he wasn’t there, and there was no light on in the garage. Mrs. Szabo is worried. So am I.”
“If Chloe talked to him about the incident at the production studio yesterday morning, Nick might have put two and two together and determined that Gabe Vickers was the man who assaulted Chloe?” I said.
“God, I hope that didn’t happen,” Zack said. “But I can’t imagine anything else that would have driven him out of the house in the middle of the night.”
“Neither can I,” I said. “But there’s nothing you can do until you hear from him, so we might as well go across the street and join the girls.”
Zack and I hadn’t even made it to the delivery door when my phone rang. It was Roy Brodnitz, and it was clear from the moment he began talking that he was losing a battle to stay in control. “Jo, something terrible has happened, and Ainsley thinks we need a lawyer.” He groaned. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Take a deep breath,” I said. “Zack and I know that Gabe is dead.”
“Then it is Gabe,” Roy said, and his voice was heavy. “Ainsley and I heard the sirens. We were at my place and could tell something had happened on the other side of the building. When we looked out the window, we saw the police and the body on the ground.” The penny dropped. “Jo, how did you know it was Gabe?”
“I’ll explain when I see you. Zack and I are on the lower level of your building. Can we take the elevator from here and get to you?”
“Take the one on the far left,” Roy said. “I’ll buzz you up to the twenty-sixth floor.”
I texted Taylor to let her know our plans, then we headed up.
* * *
—
It’s a truism that you cannot unsee what you’ve already seen. I would have given a great deal to unsee the images that met Zack and me when the elevator doors opened, mistakenly, on the twenty-seventh floor that morning.
Just a few days before, we had left a penthouse that was a sparkling showcase for earthly delights: succulent food; excellent drink; exquisite floral arrangements; and handsome people, beautifully dressed and glowing with the burnish of success.
Now the penthouse was a nightmare. The air was frigid. The sliding doors to the balcony from which Gabe Vickers had fallen to his death were open—the balcony was large, extending almost the full length of the living room—so the room was fully exposed to the elements. The wind had whipped snow onto the hardwood, and boot marks from the uniformed officers moving onto and off the balcony had already turned it to slush. Disposable coffee cups rested on glass tables that on Saturday night held champagne flutes. The dozens of Michelangelo roses that had filled the air with the scent of lemons were wilting in their cut-glass bowls. Lamps had been knocked over, and plates and glassware lay shattered on the floor.
Zack and I didn’t have long to take in the nightmare. When a police constable spotted us, she was quick to approach. “You have to leave,” she said. “This is the scene of an active police investigation.”
My phone beeped a text notification. I checked the message. “We got off on the wrong floor,” I said. “Roy apologizes. He punched in Ainsley’s code accidentally. He’ll meet us at the elevator.”
As he adjusted his chair in the elevator, Zack’s wheel ran over something. “What was that?” he said.
I bent down, picked up a plasticized keycard. “I’m guessing this is the keycard Lizzie lost,” I said.
“Something lost is found. A good omen,” Zack said. When we reached Roy’s floor, he pressed the Doors Closed button and held it. “Jo, before we see Roy and Ainsley, what do you think happened in there? Cops don’t go around knocking over lamps and smashing glasses.”
“No,” I said. “It seems Gabe did not go gently into that good night.”
“Indeed,” Zack said releasing the button.
There were four condos on the twenty-sixth floor, and when the doors opened, Roy was there, as promised. He was unshaven, but his jeans and checked cotton shirt were immaculate. As soon as I had learned of the role Des Love’s Aurora played in Roy Brodnitz’s life, I’d been reading about him in magazines and online. Roy was known to be brilliant but high-strung and erratic. I had seen evidence of his brilliance in The Happiest Girl, but his dealings with me had been marked by gentleness, sensitivity, and steadiness.
That morning his face was knifed by tension, and his usually relaxed baritone was taut with panic. “I’m so relieved you’re here,” he said “I’m totally at a loss about what to do. Ainsley and I still don’t understand what happened.”
Zack’s voice was deep and calming. “Let’s go inside. We’ll tell you what we know, and then you can consider your next move.”
The door to Roy’s condo was open and Ainsley was waiting on the threshold. The night of the dinner party for Rosamond Burke, Ainsley had been a head-turner with her strawberry blond hair twisted into an elegant braid, her makeup skillfully applied, and her sea-green gown cut to flatter her dancer’s supple body. That morning, stressed, without makeup, in khakis, a Duran Duran T-shirt and runners, her ponytail pulled through the opening of her Mets ball cap, Ainsley looked like the younger sister of the elegant woman who had hosted us at dinner. There were bruise marks on the backs of her hands, but she didn’t mention them, and I didn’t stare.
Ainsley offered us coffee, juice, and bagels that she said were probably stale. Zack and I passed on the bagels but accepted the coffee and juice gratefully, and the four of us settled around the kitchen table to talk.
As Zack related Lizzie’s account of how she had discovered Gabe’s body, Ainsley was stoic, but she and Roy exchanged a quick, anxious look when Zack said Lizzie had already talked to Inspector Debbie Haczkewicz from Major Crimes.
After he finished, Zack leaned forward, his powerful fingers spread like a starfish on the table. “So far, I’ve simply given you information that happened to come my way. Ainsley, Roy said you thought you might need a lawyer. I can advise you about that, but you’ll have to answer some questions.”
Roy and Ainsley looked at each other for a long minute. When Roy nodded, Ainsley began. Her voice was steady. “I’ll answer your questions.”
Zack smiled. “Good call,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“All right, question one: Where did y
ou spend last night?”
“Here with Roy, in his condominium.”
“Why didn’t you spend the night with your husband?”
“Gabe and I had quarrelled.”
“What was the subject of the quarrel?”
“A marital problem.”
“Debbie will push on that one,” Zack said, “but your lawyer can try to shut her down. Next question: Did the quarrel become violent?”
“Yes.”
“Who initiated the violence?”
“I did, but I left before it got out of control. Gabe was alive when I left. He might have had scratch marks on his face. Nothing more.”
“When did you learn that Gabe Vickers was dead?”
“Jo confirmed it a few minutes ago, when Roy called her.”
Zack sat back in his chair. “Ainsley, the sooner you talk to Inspector Haczkewicz, the better. I’m sure she’s still on the property. Debbie is very, very good at her job. Don’t try to shit her. Keep your answers short and precise, just as you did with me. Don’t volunteer anything, until Debbie pushes, which she will, and then answer her question.” Zack inhaled. “You’d also be wise to hire a lawyer. It can’t be me, but I can recommend someone from another firm. Her name is Asia Libke, and she’s as good as they come. Shall I call her for you?”
Ainsley glanced at Roy then looked back at Zack. “Please.”
Zack opened his phone and called Asia. They talked briefly and Zack broke the connection. “Asia was on her way to work. She’ll be here in ten minutes, so I’m going to call Inspector Haczkewicz and tell her you’ll be ready to talk to her here in half an hour. That’ll give you a little time with Asia.”
“Thanks,” Ainsley said. “Zack, I really appreciate your help. I know you’re only here because of your family’s friendship with Roy, but I am grateful.”
Roy walked us to the elevator. “Is Ainsley in trouble?” he said.
“You’re probably a better judge of that than I am,” Zack said. “You know the truth.”
“I have a question,” I said. “Roy, how long has Ainsley known about what Gabe’s been doing to Vale Frazier?”
Roy’s expression was open and unguarded. “She had no idea until last night when Vale called and told her everything.”
As soon as the elevator doors closed, Zack said, “So where does that little nugget of information leave us?”
“It connects some dots. As soon as Taylor told Vale that Chloe’s attacker ejaculated between Chloe’s breasts and her legs, Vale knew that Gabe was the attacker, because that’s what he’d been doing to her. She called Ainsley and told her about what had been going on between her and Gabe, and that Gabe had assaulted Chloe Kovacs. The question now is, why did Vale call Ainsley.”
“The simple explanation is retribution,” Zack said.
“I don’t believe she was motivated by revenge,” I said. “We’ve seen how protective she is with Lizzie. As different as those two young women appear to be, they’re both victims. Chloe was a victim too. I think Vale decided to put an end to it and so she called Ainsley.”
“Thus precipitating the marital problem Ainsley and Gabe fought over,” Zack said. “Incidentally, did you notice the bruises on the back of her hands?”
“I did,” I said. “They looked painful.”
“I’m sure the cops will get a picture of them,” Zack said. “They’re consistent with the pattern of bruising a victim makes on an assailant when he or she tries to fight them off.”
“So Gabe was the victim?”
“At that point yes, but if Ainsley’s telling the truth, Asia won’t have any trouble stick-handling the situation,” Zack said. “A wife gets a phone call from another, much younger woman, telling the wife that her husband has been taking advantage of her, doing the same things he did to her to at least one other innocent victim.”
“Zack, do you think the phone call Nick received was from Vale?” I said.
“It’s a definite possibility,” Zack said. The elevator doors opened. Zack wheeled out and immediately checked his phone. “Three texts from Nick. He’s fine. There was something he had to take care of, but he’s home now. He’s sorry to have troubled me. He’s going to work. He’ll fill me in when they’re finished shooting at the end of the day.”
“That has to be a good sign,” I said. “If Nick’s headed for work, that means he doesn’t know Gabe’s dead.”
Zack shrugged. “Either that or that he knows how to establish an alibi with an old friend who may end up representing him.”
CHAPTER
15
When she saw me walk through the door of the café, a wave of relief washed over Taylor’s face.
I went to the booth where she, Vale, and Lizzie were sitting. “That took longer than we thought it would,” I said. “I’m sorry if you were worried.”
“How’s Ainsley doing?” Vale said.
“This is a nightmare for everybody, but Roy’s with Ainsley. She’ll be all right. Zack’s in the car waiting, so I guess we’d better pay the bill and get moving.”
“Breakfast was good,” Lizzie said.
Vale smiled at Lizzie fondly. “She actually ate something. Now for a shower and a change of clothes. One of the APs texted to say our call has been changed to ten o’clock, so the three of us are going back to my condo.”
“Not me,” Lizzie said. “I’ve got places to go.”
Vale took her arm. “You’re not going anywhere until you get into some warm clothes and find a coat of mine you want to wear.”
Lizzie lowered her eyes. “I lost Taylor’s coat,” she mumbled.
“No worries,” Taylor said. “It was just a coat.”
“Taylor’s right, Lizzie,” I said. “It was just a coat.”
When my daughter caught my eye, we both smiled. Many tears had been shed the October that Taylor discovered she’d shot up over the summer months and her much-loved coat was now too short. More proof that Zack and I didn’t need that our daughter was becoming an adult.
* * *
—
We watched until the girls disappeared around the corner of Broad Street, and then Zack turned to me. “The less time we spend on these roads the better,” he said. “I have a change of clothes at the office. I might as well go straight there.”
After I’d dropped Zack off, I took the dogs for a run, made a pot of tea, and thought again of Catherine Parr Traill. Bewailing in abject terror took more vigour than I could summon. I did, however, have the energy to organize the placement of furniture in the new home office. The room we chose had been the previous owners’ billiards room. It was large, and we had used the space as a repository for everything we couldn’t find a place for. I took my tea and a pad and pencil into the former billiards room, snapped pictures of every item we no longer needed, and posted the photos with our contact information on I Will Help, an online group for people who have items to give to people who need them. Operation Shared Office was underway.
I had just begun measuring the room when Zack called. “Jo, I hate to ask, but I’m making myself crazy thinking about Nick. If I don’t get some answers, I’m going to wheel over my joint in court this morning.”
“That’s an image that’s going to stick with me,” I said. “What can I do to keep your male parts intact?”
Zack chuckled. “Sorry about the image,” he said. “But I am worried. Nick texted me that he’s at work now, which should be reassuring, but something about the text just didn’t sound right. I’ve been calling Taylor, hoping she’d be able to give me a first-person account of how Nick’s doing, but her phone must be turned off. I’m due in court. Would you mind calling Taylor and leaving me a message after you’ve talked to her?
“I can do better than that,” I said. “When Taylor rushed out of here this morning, she didn’t take her satchel. It has her sketchbook and pencils in it, and it’s a great excuse for me to visit the set. I’ll call you after I see Nick.”
“Thanks, Jo. I’ll make i
t up to you. I’ll leave early Friday afternoon and come home and help you with the office.”
My response was quick. “You don’t have to do that—really. Please. Don’t even think of it.”
“Okay, but at least let me take care of dinner tonight,” Zack said. “Why don’t I make reservations at the Sahara Club for the three of us?”
“That you can do! I could use a steak, but better make that reservation for four. I imagine Taylor will want to bring Vale along.”
“Jo, I don’t know…” Zack paused, measuring his words. “At first, I dismissed the call she made to Ainsley as impetuous, but do you think it’s possible she was more calculated than that?”
“No. She must have felt Ainsley deserved to know the truth,” I said. “We can’t shoot the messenger.”
“What if the message the messenger delivered caused someone to commit murder?”
“You’re thinking about Nick,” I said. “But, Zack, if she did make that call, I’m sure Vale believed she was doing the right thing. And we’re not even certain she made it. Gabe was Vale’s ticket to a great future. Exposing his crime would jeopardize her entire career. Whatever the case, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a pariah.”
* * *
—
The road crews had been out, so the short drive to the sound stage was without incident. Taylor had told me that, at any given time, there are at least sixty people on a movie set, but Nick was easy to spot. He was the only one with his arm in a cast.
Our daughter was in her usual place at a small table just outside the activity on set. When I handed Taylor her satchel, she lit up. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m totally lost without my art supplies, but I’m sorry you had to drive in this weather.”
“Actually, the weather’s improving, and the main streets are being cleared, so the drive wasn’t bad. Besides, bringing you your satchel was just an excuse. Your dad and I wanted reassurance that Nick Kovacs was okay.”