A Taste of Sin

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  I jumped as someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Sarah? What are you doing here?”

  I turned to find Linda staring at me, a curious grin on her face.

  “Jeesh, you scared me,” I leaned over to hug her.

  “I’m so glad you took my advice. The spin class starts in ten minutes. Come on, let’s put our names on the list before it fills up.” Linda looked stunning in her black spandex tights with her sleek white tank top.

  “Well, I haven’t actually joined yet. I’m still trying to decide if it’s for me.”

  “No problem. They offer the first class for free.”

  “I’m not really prepared.”

  Linda gave me a head to toe glance. “What are you talking about? What you have on is perfect.”

  She took me by the arm and led me to the spin room where she wrote both our names down on the list. “I’ll tell Sandy at the front desk. She won’t mind. Go find yourself a bike. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  This wasn’t how I had envisioned the evening playing out, but knowing how to improvise is key; Carter taught me that much. I couldn’t let Linda know the real reason I was there.

  I looked around and saw Paul adjusting the seat on a bike a few away from mine. This was either an opportunity or a major screw up. Only time would tell.

  Linda burst back into the spin room. “This is so exciting, Sarah. What perfect timing. Guess who’s here?”

  I did my best to appear confused. “Who?”

  “Paul Hodges, Emily’s husband. Come, you have to meet him.”

  He was still adjusting his bike when Linda tapped him on the back. “Paul, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  He looked up, smiled, and offered his hand when Linda introduced us.

  “Yes. My wife mentioned she’d hired someone to find her brother. Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here,” I said, noticing his hands were delicate for a man. Not surprising for someone who spent most of his time on computers.

  Linda chimed in. “I told Sarah about these spin classes last weekend. I never thought she’d actually do it.”

  “Yeah, me either,” I replied.

  “So,” Paul said, tilting his head to look at me. “Are you having any luck locating Emily’s brother?”

  “Well, I’ve got a few feelers out there, but nothing yet.”

  He nodded. “I hope you can find him. He might be her only hope.”

  “Yes, I understand the urgency.”

  “Anyway, if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

  I searched his face for some telltale sign of deceit, but all I saw was sincerity. “Thank you. I just might take you up on that.”

  The lights dimmed and everyone seemed to take that as a sign. I followed along, taking cues from Linda. She showed me how to insert my feet into the pedal contraptions. They reminded me of the stirrups at my Gynecologist’s office.

  I barely got myself settled when the instructor began screaming commands through a headset microphone to blaring techno music. Yikes.

  ***

  An hour later, I dismounted the evil contraption, not sure if my legs would hold me up.

  Linda looked at me with alarm. “Sarah, are you okay?” she asked, grasping my shoulder.

  “I’m … fine. Why?” I stumbled and almost fell over, but Linda propped me up.

  “Your face is beet red,” she said.

  Paul nodded his agreement. “Yeah. Maybe you should sit down.”

  “Sure, as long as it’s not on another bicycle seat,” I said, wiping the drenched hair from my face.

  Linda mashed her lips together, trying to refrain from laughing. “Maybe you should hydrate more during the next class.”

  “Sorry, but there won’t be a next class. I’ll stick with running, thank you very much.”

  Paul gave me a sympathetic smile. “You should’ve seen me after my first spin class. I threw up all over my gym bag.”

  “Thanks, that makes me feel a little better.”

  Linda, however, looked as if she hadn’t broken a sweat, her make-up still intact. “Hey. We should go out for drinks, Sarah.”

  “Sure, when?”

  “Right now?”

  I stood there, a sopping tower of sweat. “You are kidding.”

  “Just dry yourself off with a towel.”

  I splayed my arms out, as if to indicate just how sweaty I was. “I don’t think that will help much.”

  Linda turned to face Paul. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  Paul shook his head dolefully and flung his bag over his shoulder. “I better head home. Emily is waiting. Nice meeting you, Sarah.” He turned and walked away before I had a chance to say anything else.

  “So?” Linda asked. “What do you say?”

  “I say, instead of going out, let’s head over to my apartment. I have wine and snacks there. Then I can take a shower and get into some dry clothes.”

  “Perfect. I’ll pick up some vodka on the way to your place. What’s your address?”

  I got back to my apartment, took a quick shower, and got changed just in time to hear Linda knocking on my door.

  She was grinning ear to ear with the bottle of vodka in her hand. “I’m so glad you showed up at the gym tonight. It must be fate.”

  If she only knew. “Come on in.”

  Linda made an exaggerated motion of looking around. “Nice little apartment you have here. So quaint. I love the color of the walls. Is that butternut?”

  “It’s called yellow curry. But I bet it would taste good with butternut.”

  Linda chuckled at my lame attempt at humor. She probably felt sorry for me, having to live in such a small apartment. I’d never seen the inside of Linda’s house, but she’d made a few offhanded remarks about it over dinner the other night; something about her interior decorator buying curtains imported from France.

  “So, does Max live with you?” she asked while looking at a framed picture on my fireplace mantle. It was Max standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

  “He stays here most of the time, though he has his own place, too. I prefer it that way.”

  “So, how did you guys meet?”

  “His sister Beth used to be my receptionist at my massage studio.”

  “And she fixed you up with her brother?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Linda gave me a funny look so I gave her the short version. “Beth was murdered at my office. I met Max during the investigation and we sort of hit it off.”

  “Murdered?”

  I nodded. “It’s really hard to talk about.”

  “Well, I can imagine it would be.”

  “Anyway,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Make yourself comfortable. What kind of drink are you in the mood for?”

  She handed me the vodka. “Just this over ice, please.”

  “Don’t you want some juice to mix with it?”

  She laughed.

  We finally got settled on the couch, drinks in hand, and I had to make a decision. I couldn’t tell Linda the truth, but I wanted to know more about Paul.

  I had yet to master the art of ‘diplomatic manipulation’, a fancy term Carter had come up with to describe the act of using friends and family to gain information. My high school chum would now be the recipient of this untested psychological experiment.

  “So,” I said, trying to act casual. “Paul seems like a nice guy. I was a little surprised to see him at the gym tonight.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, it’s not my place to judge, but if my spouse’s health was deteriorating, I wouldn’t be spending precious time at a spin class.”

  Linda set down her glass and looked at me like she was about to give a lecture. “You know, Sarah, the emotional, physical, and psychological stresses on someone in his position are enormous. Paul needs to take care of himself first in order to take care of his wife properly. You must be able to relate after caring for your mom.”

>   “I understand what you’re saying, but I guess I’m of the mind that his wife should be a priority right now.”

  Linda looked squarely at me, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “What did Emily say to you? Is she upset with Paul for some reason?”

  I looked away, hoping my face wouldn’t reveal the lie. “No, no. She didn’t say anything specific.”

  Linda seemed to ponder my vague response as she sipped her vodka. “So, no progress on finding her brother?”

  “Benjamin is a hard man to track down.”

  “Well, what has Emily told you about him?”

  “Just his name. Benjamin Andrew Bradshaw. It’s not going to be easy with so little to go on. Have you ever met him?”

  “Only once. He showed up at their wedding in Hawaii, uninvited.” Linda shook her head. “He made a scene. It was bad.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s not really clear what his motivation was, but he pissed on their wedding cake.”

  I almost spilled my wine. “Excuse me? Did you say he urinated on their wedding cake?”

  She nodded.

  I had never heard anything so absurd. “Did you see him do it?”

  “I witnessed the whole thing. He whipped out his flaccid little wonky and signed his name on the vanilla frosting.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Was he shit-faced?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Well, I can certainly see why Emily isn’t fond of him.”

  Linda took another sip of vodka and her expression changed. “Did you say his last name was Bradshaw?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I thought Emily told me her maiden name was Bradley. Anyway, I probably misheard. Linda’s eyes sparkled suddenly, as if she was having some kind of epiphany. “Say, why don’t you let me help you find him? I could be your investigative assistant, but you won’t have to pay me. And any information I find, you can take all the credit.”

  My chest tightened. “I can’t ask you to do that. You already work full-time.”

  “So what? I have plenty of time in the evenings. Please, I want to help.”

  I couldn’t come up with another excuse to dissuade her. So much for ‘diplomatic manipulation.’ If anyone was being manipulated, it was me. “I suppose you could do some research on the Internet to see if his name pops up anywhere.”

  She smiled. “I can do that. I belong to every social media site known to man. Have you contacted their parents, yet?”

  “I’m working on it.” Damn it. I had to take the emphasis off the brother and get it back on Paul. “So, Emily doesn’t mind that you and Paul take spin classes together?” The question came out sounding more like an accusation. “I mean, some wives might get jealous over stuff like that.”

  “Emily understands my relationship with Paul. We were friends first.”

  “You never did explain how you two met.”

  Linda hesitated. “Paul was a patient of mine.”

  “Really? Why did he need a therapist?”

  She gave me a reprimanding stare. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “But you said he was a patient of yours, which means he is no longer your patient.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Linda said, refilling her glass. “It’s not like doctor/patient confidentiality runs out after a certain time has gone by.”

  I figured I should wait another hour. Linda might spill the beans after a few more drinks.

  “So, if he no longer has therapy, he must be cured of whatever issue he had, right?” I knew I was pressing my luck, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Linda sighed. “Okay fine, Paul used to have anxiety attacks. But you can’t tell anyone I told you. I could get in a lot of trouble.”

  “Does he have anger issues or something?”

  Her eyes admonished me. “Sarah, I refuse to tell you anything more.”

  Time for my next round of questions. “So, did Paul and Benjamin have any kind of relationship?”

  “Paul hadn’t met Benjamin until the wedding and, to my knowledge, they had no contact after that.” Linda took a sip from her glass then looked at me. “Something else is going on that you’re not telling me. I get the feeling that you don’t trust Paul for some reason.”

  “I have nothing against Paul. I only met him tonight.”

  “Just for your information, Paul and I have never had anything romantic between us.”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise at her declaration. “The thought never entered my mind.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest like she didn’t believe me.

  “My suspicions have nothing to do with you, Linda.”

  “Suspicions?”

  “Wrong word choice. What I meant to say was, maybe Paul has been in contact with Benjamin and didn’t want his wife to know.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Linda inched closer to me, a worried look on her face. “Does Emily think Paul is hiding something from her?”

  I could see how Linda’s analytical mind was starting to put things together. I needed to back off. “No, not really.”

  She brought her hand to her cheek. “You’re not suggesting he’s having an affair?”

  “No, but since you brought it up, has he ever been unfaithful to Emily?”

  Linda chuckled. “That man wouldn’t cheat on his taxes, let alone his wife.”

  “You seem fairly certain.”

  “Paul isn’t the type.”

  “What type is he?”

  Linda appeared to think it over. “Believe me, I’ve seen women flirt with him at parties. He won’t even look at them and I’m talking cute girls. Paul isn’t a pig like most men. He actually has integrity.”

  “If Paul wasn’t married, would you be interested in him?”

  Linda’s eyes widened in surprise. “You are wicked, you know that? What a thing to ask.”

  “It’s just you and me, here. You can be honest and I won’t think less of you.”

  Linda shook her head. “I won’t go down that path. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”

  She thrust her empty glass in my face. “I can see it in my heart to forgive you, as long as you get me more ice.”

  “Under one condition; you have to spend the night. I don’t want you driving.”

  She smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, I padded out into the living room in my pajamas and started the coffee maker. Linda was still fast asleep on the couch.

  I shook her arm, but she didn’t budge. I finally had to lightly slap her cheek to rouse her. “Linda. It’s almost eight in the morning. Do you have to work?”

  She stirred, lifted her head up from the couch, and then opened her eyes in panic. “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight. Do you have appointments this morning?”

  She licked her dry lips and blinked a few times. “Shit. I need to go.” She sat up, straightened her clothes and looked around as if she didn’t remember where she was.

  “You passed out after your third vodka,” I reminded her.

  Linda searched the surrounding floor. “Have you seen my shoes?”

  I pointed to the door. “Coffee is brewing. I could fix you a cup to go.”

  “No thanks. I don’t have time. I need to run home and change before I go to the office.” She stood up, looked around again, and grabbed her purse.

  “You could always call your first patient to reschedule.”

  “I don’t like to do that. Where are my keys?”

  I plucked them from the coffee table and handed them over. “Here you go.”

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “About last night. Whatever I might have said about Paul, disregard it, okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had no right to divulge his anxiety problems to anyone. Please don’t mention a
nything to Emily.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  She gave me a quick hug before leaving.

  * * *

  I had a few hours to kill before Max’s flight got in.

  It was time to call Emily and give her an update, though there was very little to report.

  She answered my call on the third ring.

  “Hi, Emily, it’s Sarah. Is this a good time to talk?”

  “I’m glad you called. I was … wondering how things were going.” Her voice sounded weaker than a few days ago.

  “I’ve been tracking Paul’s whereabouts, but so far he’s sticking to his schedule. I had Carter do a background check. I was wondering if you knew about his arrest four years ago.”

  A long pause. “He was arrested? What for?”

  “DWI. He never mentioned it?”

  “No. Never. Are you sure?”

  “The birthdate was a match.”

  Silence. Finally she cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to say. He was probably too embarrassed to tell me.”

  “He could be hiding other things, too.”

  “But you haven’t seen him with another woman?”

  “No. I followed Paul to the gym last night. Did he tell you Linda introduced us when he got home last night?”

  “No, I was asleep when he got in last night. What excuse did you give Linda for being at the gym?”

  “Linda thought I was there to take a spin class.”

  “So, what do you think of him?”

  “What do I think of Paul?”

  “Yes.”

  I told her the truth. “He seems very polite and sincere. You were right. He’s a gentle soul.”

  “I’m so glad you met him,” she said. “Now you can see why I’m so conflicted.”

  “That’s the other reason I was calling. Max is coming home today. He’ll be available to install the surveillance this afternoon. Does that work for you?”

  When no reply came, I said, “Emily, if you want to back out of this, I’ll understand.”

  “Are you sure Paul won’t see the cameras?”

  “He won’t unless you tell him.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going through with this. I keep asking myself; what does it matter? Since there isn’t much hope of finding a liver donor, I’m going to die anyway.”

  “You can’t think like that.”