Michaela laughed. It made her head hurt, but she couldn't help it. "Tom Selleck? Oh Joe, you'd have to lose some weight and grow some more hair."
He touched the top of his head. "You cut so low sometimes. You noticed I'm losing hair, too, huh? Marianne said something about it the other day. Used to have a ton of it only what, last year or so. Shit, this getting old stuff sucks."
"I'm sorry. So, if you're Magnum, that means I must be the pain in the butt Higgins."
He pointed at her. "Ain't that the truth. Wanna beer?"
"No. I have to get home."
"Uh-uh. Marianne and I talked and you need to stay the night until we get this all resolved."
"I can't do that. The horses need me and your family doesn't need the intrusion."
"Mickey, you are family and you got Dwayne and Camden to take care of the animals."
"That's right, which means they're there with me and I'll be fine."
Joe smiled. "Them two are too busy these days from what you say, being holed up in the love shack."
"True."
"So you'll stay."
Marianne walked into the family room. "Of course she'll stay. And I know you two are up to no good, so you are going to deal me in. If you're going to do your little private investigating then you better include me."
"Ah, Mare, come on. You wouldn't be any good at this."
She shook a finger at him. "Joey, I'm in and there's nothing you can do about it. I think three heads are better than two, so you two start from square one and fill me in. It's obvious by the bruise on your face, Michaela, that you're in trouble. So talk."
She looked from Marianne to Joe and nodded. Joe shook his head. "Women."
"I don't think you're going to win this one, Joe."
"I never win."
Michaela started from the beginning, going over the day of the match, what happened before it, after, and then the days following.
Marianne raised her brows when she revealed that she and Joe had broken into Sterling's place. She shot her husband a dirty look. He shrugged and looked chagrined. "You think that maybe this makeup artist had a set of tapes? Or that her friend Sheila had the tape she was in?" Marianne asked.
"It's possible, but it doesn't make sense that she would kill Carolyn Taber," Michaela replied.
"No, but we don't know for sure that the woman didn't kill herself," Joe said.
"She didn't."
"You still got that bracelet you mentioned?" Marianne asked.
"Yes, it's in my purse. No one's claimed it yet." She took out the bracelet and handed it to Marianne.
"Pretty. Looks real. I have some of these fake diamonds, the cubic zirconium like this, and no one knows the difference. You mentioned the Sorvinos." She looked at Joe. "You know that the Sorvinos are related to Diamante Pizzini."
"The Pez?" Joe asked.
Marianne nodded.
"Where did you hear that?"
"You're not the only one who has cousins." She smiled.
"Can I ask who the Pez is?" Michaela said.
"He's a low-life thug. He's been in and out of jail for stolen goods. Last time he got out, I heard he went into business with some wealthy guy in Palm Springs. He runs that Sinners and Saints club."
"The place that Lucia likes to hang out at?" Michaela asked.
"That's the one, but I didn't know they were related. You sure about that, Mare?" Joe asked.
"Sure I'm sure. I ran into my cousin Nancy last year who knows Diamante's ex-wife's brother and she said that the Pez is a bastard son of Pepe Sorvino's brother."
"Pepe has kept that one under wraps, hasn't he?" Joe said. "Not surprised. Pepe likes to act like he's all about being on the up and up, and as far as I know he is, but I do find it interesting that he's related to this guy and that his daughter hangs out at that club."
"If you want my two cents," Marianne said, "I'm betting that Lucia and her brother, Mario, had something to do with the murders and now tonight with Michaela."
"But why go after Carolyn Taber?" Michaela asked.
"That's a good point, and I don't know why, but we need to trap that little brat and get her to talk," Marianne said.
"And how do you plan to do that?" Joe asked.
Marianne thought for a few seconds, and then a smile spread across her face. "I got an idea."
THIRTY-NINE
THEY STAYED UP LATE INTO THE NIGHT TALKING and planning. Marianne had a good idea to get Lucia to talk, but it also involved some delinquency on everyone's part. Joe was surprised by his wife's sneaky side and by the way Joe patted her on the butt when they finally went to bed, she got the feeling that Joe wasn't only surprised by his wife, but that it also had ignited something else in him.
Michaela camped out on the couch. She awoke the next morning to four big, round brown eyes staring at her. The twins were up early. It wasn't quite seven and Isabel was touching the side of Michaela's mouth, which was open, and she realized that she'd been drooling. Oh, thank God they were only two. She swallowed and realized how badly she needed to brush her teeth. Instead of waking Joe and Marianne, she found bowls and some cereal and gave the twins breakfast. Vincent came padding out as she brewed a pot of coffee.
"Thanks," he said.
"For what?"
"Making the twins something to eat."
He was a good-looking boy with dark hair like his dad, and light green eyes like his mom. "It didn't take much. Just poured some Frosted Flakes into a bowl."
"I know." He smiled. "But it's still cool. My mom is tired a lot and it's good she's sleeping in. My dad, too."
Michaela felt a nudge of guilt. Had Joe spent too much time trying to help her? And now Marianne was involved. "You know what? Why don't you and me surprise the two of them? Your dad mentioned something about their wedding anniversary coming up. Why don't we send them away for a weekend and I can stay with you guys?"
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you'd want to do that? The twins are crazy and Gen is a lot to handle sometimes. And have you ever seen little Joe throw a tantrum? It's ugly."
Michaela touched Vincent's shoulder. "And what about you? You look like trouble."
He smiled sheepishly. "I try to be good."
"I think you've got it handled. So I'll make some plans for them and then we can surprise them on their anniversary."
"I think that's cool."
"I think you're cool. Listen, I've got some things to do. Will you let your mom and dad know that I'll call?"
"Sure."
Michaela cleaned up and left Vincent with the twins. What a good kid…and spending a weekend with Joe and Marianne's family was the least she could do, given all they'd done for her.
She made a quick trip home, where she fed the animals, cleaned up, and got back on the road. This morning she was going to find out what the truth was between Erin Hornersberg, her girlfriend, Sheila, and Sterling Taber. She wanted to be sure all of the bases were covered before the planned attack on Lucia Sorvino went down.
FORTY
MICHAELA FOUND THE SALON THAT ERIN HORNERSBERG worked at and Sheila owned. It was definitely one of those posh spa places where all beauty services were rendered. The sound of ocean waves played over the speaker system, and the scents of patchouli and rose filled the air. Camden would love this place. Off to the right of the beige marbled flooring and peach faux-finished walls were a couple of manicurists and their clients. They spoke in hushed tones as they lacquered the nails of their cucumber eye-patched patrons, who sat in neck-massaging chairs.
A receptionist dressed in a white lab coat, as if she were a doctor of some sort, eyed Michaela as she walked up to the desk and asked for Erin.
"Oh, Erin hasn't been in for a few days. She must've quit."
"Did she call?"
"No." Another woman slid in next to the receptionist and looked at the appointment book. She had long golden hair, which cascaded down her back, a flawless complexion, and bright blue eyes. Her nametag read SH
EILA.
"Sheila?" Michaela asked.
The young woman looked up. "Yes? Are you my next client?"
"No."
"She's looking for Erin," the receptionist said.
"Funny. Me, too."
"Oh?" Michaela wasn't sure what to say.
"Can I ask why you're looking for her?"
She leaned in and lowered her voice. "It has to do with a murder investigation."
"Are you a cop?"
"No, I'm not. Erin did a job for me last weekend. I'm sure you've heard about Sterling Taber's murder in the papers?"
The receptionist looked up. Sheila grabbed Michaela's arm. "Tell my client when she shows up that I'll be back in a few minutes. Come on."
"What?"
"Come on. I'll get you some tea."
"I don't want any tea."
The girl practically dragged her into a rear storeroom. She closed the door and crossed her arms. "What the hell do you want?"
"I told you that I wanted to talk to Erin. Can we keep the door open?"
"No. This is a place of business and I run a professional operation. I don't appreciate you coming in here asking nosy questions about Erin."
She should've brought Joe with her like she initially planned; she hadn't expected to be dragged off into a storage room. She didn't like this one bit.
"Wait a minute." Sheila snapped her fingers. "Did you and some other woman stop by Erin's the other night?"
"Yes."
She nodded. "Uh-huh, then you're the reason she took off."
"What? I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm here because a man was killed and she might know something about it. She had his address written on the back of her business card, and now another woman associated with Sterling is dead. I know that Erin was probably jealous of what happened between you and Sterling."
Sheila played dumb. "What do you mean?"
"Come on. Erin even told me that you went home with him."
"Who are you?"
"I am the woman who was accused of murdering Sterling. He was killed in my office."
"Oh, I see, and you think that Erin did him in because she was jealous of me and him."
Michaela shrugged. "Why don't you tell me?"
Sheila shook her head. "Erin had that address because the morning after I was with that jerk, I needed a ride home. Yes, it bugged her what I did, but we got through it."
"Did you know that Erin was looking for Sterling the morning of the polo match?"
"I told her not to bother. Look, the guy was calling and harassing me. He made up lame stuff like he had me on video and he was going to show his friends and anyone else who wanted to see. Erin wanted to track him down and tell him to leave me alone. She found out he was going to be in that match, so she went looking for him. Then she wigged out when she realized that she would have to do his makeup."
"She told you all of this?"
"Yes, she did. We don't keep things from each other."
"What if I told you that Sterling wasn't lying to you about you being on tape?"
"What?" Sheila looked truly horrified. "How do you know this? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, and it's a long story," Michaela replied.
"Oh my God. I thought he was only trying to get me to come back over to his place. He was such an ass. Oh jeez. I never in a million years thought he was that sick."
"Do you think Erin knew about the tape?"
"No way. How would she?"
"I don't know, maybe Sterling said something to her about it at the show. You know, she came really unglued because he was harassing her about you."
"No, and you know what? Contrary to what people think about Erin, she's not a bad person. She's had some rough experiences and she's pulled through them."
"But you're looking for her?"
"Yeah," Sheila replied. "After you and your friend stopped by to talk to her the other night, she kind of freaked out. She called me and said that you were asking a lot of questions, and she was afraid that after the argument she and Sterling had on Sunday that the cops would come back and press her about it. Cops aren't exactly Erin's favorite people. She spent nine months in jail for a crime that she didn't commit. So she packed up and split, and I've been calling around looking for her ever since."
"I'm sorry." Michaela could understand how Erin might've felt. The police had been on her back since Sterling's murder, and even though she had nothing to do with it, Peters had been relentless. "You mentioned something about Sterling and his harassment. You figured that it was all just talk."
"I guess I was wrong."
"Do you know who his friends might be?"
She sighed. "No. I only spent one night with the guy, but I remember who he was partying with the night I went home with him."
"Who?"
"This one guy, middle-aged Italian dude, thought he was Al Pacino or something. I think he runs that club—Sinners and Saints. What a jerk—but Sterling told me that he did business with him. There was this little chicky there, too. I never caught her name, but she didn't like me hanging around with Sterling. I got the feeling she was hot for him. She looked kind of stupid, though. I'd seen her before."
"Stupid?"
"A wannabe. I know she had a wig on. Too dark a complexion for blonde hair. I don't know, maybe she dyed it, but it looked like a wig to me because she had one of those Britney Spears kind of beret hats on and she just looked dumb. I think she knew the Italian guy, too, because he kept whispering something to her."
"Were they there as a couple?"
"I don't think so. I think they could've been related. Then this other kid came in. Kind of a cute boy-next-door type with dimples, but trying to be a bad boy, you know. He wore a tank, looked like he had a new tattoo, and wore earrings."
"Earrings? What kind?"
"Diamonds. Big freaking ones, too."
"What was his name?"
"I don't know. I know they talked about playing polo."
"Was it Zach or Tommy?"
"Like I said, I don't know. I wasn't paying attention. Look, that's all I know. I went home with Sterling. He was an ass at about five in the morning, kicking me out. That's when I called Erin to come rescue me."
"Thanks. Hey, I'm sorry about Erin," Michaela said.
"Sometimes she likes to spend time in Big Bear, when she needs to think. She'll be back. We've had our issues before, but we always get past it. I might drive up there if she's not home in a day or two."
The receptionist tapped on the door. "Sheila, your client is here."
"Thanks. I better go."
Michaela eased out of the storage room and headed to her truck.
So, Sterling, a middle-aged Italian guy, and a younger Italian woman with a blonde wig had hung out. It hadn't been Mario wearing the wig after all, but more likely Lucia Sorvino, hanging out with her cousin Diamante Pizzini. What kind of craziness had they all been up to together? And the other guy? It had to be either Tommy or Zach. They both were good-looking and played polo. Michaela was banking that it was Tommy hanging out with them that night.
It was time to talk with Lucia Sorvino.
Her cell phone rang, snapping her out of her thoughts. Joe said, "Hey, thanks for feeding the twins and hanging with Vince this morning. Me and Marianne were kind of beat, I guess."
"No, thank you. I should've waited until you woke up, but I wanted to try and question Erin Hornersberg some more. It looks like she's skipped town."
"Interesting. Well, I may have something on the Sorvino girl. Can you meet me? I've got to take little Joe to soccer practice. Wanna come to the field?"
"Definitely. I'll be there in twenty. I found out some other things, too."
"Can you bring me a soda and maybe a bag of chips or something? I'm kind of hungry."
"Who do you think I am, the errand girl?"
"I'm your Magnum P.I., remember? Yeah, you must be the errand girl."
"I thought I was Higgins."
"Same diff. Th
at dude always catered to Magnum."
"Ha! I'm not getting in any trouble with your wife. She told me about your blood pressure."
"She did? Damn."
"I'll bring you a bottled water and some fruit."
"Some friend."
"You'll thank me when you lose that extra fifty pounds and maybe start to resemble Tom Selleck."
"Fine."
Twenty-five minutes later she parked her truck next to Joe's minivan. "Hey, Magnum."
Joe waved her over to the soccer field, where a group of boys chased the ball up and down the field, with parents on the sidelines screaming their brains out as to how the game should be played. She never did understand the whole soccer-parent mentality. It seemed like a form of cruel and unusual punishment for the kids, or at least emotional abuse.
"I wish I'd never made that remark about Magnum. You're never going to let me live it down, are you? You know I love that show? I got all of 'em on DVD."
"I am not surprised. Okay, so tell me what you found out about Lucia Sorvino."
"It's not so much her, but it's her cousin the Pez."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Check this. You know how Marianne and I told you that he's spent time in and out of jail for theft. Well, some years back, one of the guys who works for him went to the big house on charges that he was taking real jewels like rubies, emeralds, diamonds, the good stuff, and replacing them with fakes, which he was selling to a high-end jewelry store."
"No kidding?"
"No, but it gets better: The jewelry store was in Santa Barbara. And Diamante was using rich kids in the area to steal for him as well—on the side. Didn't you tell me that Sterling got popped as a teen for stealing jewels and spent time in juvie?"
"I sure did."
"Uh-huh. Well, it's all connected. Sterling knew Diamante for the last eight years or so, and who knows how long and who they've been scamming. Sterling did his short stint in juvie, got out, and moved here soon after. His folks didn't send him away. He was a delinquent. He followed Diamante and I bet lived his life conning and stealing and soaking it all up. The guy in jail for the initial crime won't talk. Word is he knows that Diamante is connected and he got framed for the crime, 'cause it's really Diamante dealing in switching out fakes."
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