Chapter 17
Pulling into my driveway after a wonderful afternoon spent with Julia, Gilley and I both saw that Darius hadn’t yet come to retrieve his wife’s car.
“Fingers crossed the keys are inside the Range Rover,” Gilley said.
“Hopefully, they’re not still with Sunny,” I agreed, thinking that could be why Darius hadn’t come back for the car. If he didn’t have a spare key fob, then Sunny’s car could be sitting in my drive for quite a while.
Gilley hopped out and went over to the Rover to have a look. He pulled up on the door handle and discovered that the car was unlocked. Looking back at me he bounced his eyebrows.
I rolled down my window and said, “That’s a good sign.”
He then got in, looked around, looked at me, and shrugged. Then he leaned forward to press the START button, and the Range Rover came to life.
“It’s about time that worked,” I said.
Gilley closed the door and buckled up, and I let him take the lead over to Sunny’s house while I followed behind. He pulled the SUV over to the garage, and to my surprise, the garage door began to lift. Gilley pulled forward, parked the Range Rover, sat there for a moment then got out of the car and exited the garage, hurrying over to my car but he didn’t get in.
“The garage door won’t go down,” he said.
“Yeah. It sticks apparently. It did that when I came over to get the tickets to Yelena’s show.”
Gilley pointed to Darius’s car parked in the drive near the door. “He’s home. Let’s go tell him we dropped off Sunny’s car and parked it in the garage,” he said.
“Good idea,” I said, getting out of the car.
Together we approached the front steps, but as we got close, we could hear music coming from the backyard.
Gilley and I exchanged curious looks, and I pointed to the back gate, which was open. As we neared the source of the music, it became clear that Darius was playing one of his acoustic guitars and singing a lullaby.
“Oh, wow,” Gilley whispered. “He’s good!”
He was good. His voice was husky and deeper than his speaking voice. He had perfect pitch, and it was such a pleasure to hear him sing that both Gilley and I stopped to listen to the whole song.
Every few chords, we’d hear Finley cackle with laughter and clap his hands. Now we knew who Darius was singing to.
When he finished the song, Gilley and I finally stepped around the corner and called out to him. “Hi, Darius!” Gilley yelled.
Darius jumped but quickly recovered himself. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry! Did you knock, and I didn’t hear you?”
I shook my head. “No, we brought Sunny’s car back and parked it in the garage but we can’t get the door to close so we came looking for you and heard that gorgeous singing voice of yours and had to investigate.”
Darius broke out into a bashful grin. “I have always loved to sing,” he said. “Just not in front of an audience.”
“Such a shame. Because you are good!” I said, sitting down in one of the patio chairs next to Darius.
Gilley walked toward Finley when he saw the little tyke make eye contact with him, and he stuck out his arms, like he was coming in for a hug.
Finley, who was seated in his toy car, let out a squeal of delight and held his own arms out too.
Darius and I watched them in silence as Gilley picked Finley up and began to dance with him.
I chuckled, and so did his dad. Gilley whirled in a series of spins that took him off the patio and onto the beach. It was clear that Gil wanted to play with Finley for a minute, so I took the time to ask Darius about Sunny.
“How’s our girl holding up?”
Darius shook his head and stared at the ground. “It’s like a nightmare,” he said. “I keep thinking she’s gonna come home and walk right out here to tell me that it was all one big mistake.”
I bit my lip. I couldn’t imagine how hard this might be for him. If Sunny was convicted, he’d have to raise Finley alone.
“Has Marcus said anything about her defense?” I asked.
“Not much. He asked me to put him in touch with her doctor, to get a history of her Ambien-induced amnesia. And he said he might be going with an insanity defense—which, ha, I can’t even wrap my mind around.”
“If it keeps Sunny out of jail . . .”
“That’s just the thing, though, Catherine. She’d be out of prison, but she’d be imprisoned in a mental health hospital. Probably for life.”
I felt like Darius had just gut punched me. Sunny’s options weren’t really options. “Gilley and I have been looking into other suspects,” I said.
Darius looked at me in surprise. “Other suspects?”
I nodded. “We found a copy of Yelena’s script, and we’ve been able to identify nine out of twelve of her lovers.”
“You think one of them did it?”
“I do. I think that Sunny might’ve walked in on Yelena when she was being murdered, and Sunny probably rushed in to help, which is how she got the blood on her clothes, and then she ran out of there, and whoever committed the murder tossed the letter opener aside and ran after her, but she got away. She then went home, changed, got back in her car, and drove to the park. The guilt of not being able to save Yelena caught up with her, and she swallowed your entire prescription.”
The expression on Darius’s face told me he doubted my explanation. “You think a jury’s going to believe that?”
“If we can catch one of the lovers in a lie, I think they just might.”
“Who’ve you identified so far?” he asked.
I reached into my purse and pulled out the script and also pulled up the photo I’d taken of the whiteboard. Showing them both to Darius, I said, “This is who we’ve got so far.”
Darius read sections of the script and eyed the list of names. “I know she dated some of these guys,” he said. “I’m a Giants fan, and Yelena bragged that she was dating the quarterback. I knew she wasn’t dating Jones or McCoy. They’re too young and too successful to have gotten involved with her, so Bosch makes sense.”
I squinted at him. “Is there anything you might know about the three missing names?”
Darius studied the opening lines for each of those lovers for a moment. “Okay, so Lover Number Ten is gonna be Killington Cavill.”
“Who’s that?”
“He’s a Scottish race-car driver. He’s really good. He came to the States to drive a car for Team Penske. Sunny and I saw Yelena and Cavill dining outside at the end of the summer about a year ago. Sunny said that Yelena was really into Cavill, but she was worried that the relationship was starting to go downhill, because Cavill was talking about going back to Scotland.”
“Did he go back to Scotland?” I asked.
“I think so,” Darius said. And then he squinted at something in the text of the script, and I heard him take in a sharp breath.
“What is it?” I asked.
He tapped the script. “I know who Number Two was.”
“Was? Or is?”
“Was,” he said, and he looked sad.
“Who?”
“My uncle Roy.”
It was my turn to sound surprised. “Your uncle?”
“Yeah. ’Fraid so.”
“Yelena dated your uncle?”
“For about four months. She came over one Sunday for barbecue, and Uncle Roy stopped in to say hi. They met and hit it off, and I tried to warn him about Yelena, how she went through men, but he was diggin’ the fact that this pretty, much younger woman was attracted to him, so he didn’t listen. He got his heart broken when she called it off with him. He died of a stroke about two months later.”
“Oh, Darius, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. He had a good life. He made a bundle, retired, and moved out here to be closer to me and Sunny. He was more my dad than my own dad, actually.”
“Was he a congressman?” I asked.
“A congressman? No. What made y
ou think that?”
I pointed to the line in the script. “ ‘He spent his days at the house on the hill.’ ”
Darius let out a short laugh. “No, Uncle Roy was a stockbroker for thirty years. He moved into a house up there.” Darius pointed to a bluff overlooking the ocean. “It’s up a steep hill,” he said.
“Ahhh,” I said. “Okay, I get it.” Then I pointed to the script again. “Any guesses about Lover Number Twelve?”
Darius read the lines and shook his head. “No clue,” he said. “Ever since COVID ended, I’ve been working a lot in L.A., so I haven’t been around. I could ask Sunny if she knows.”
“Would you?”
“Sure,” he said. “If this will help her case, then I’ll definitely try to get the name from her.”
“You are a gem,” I said happily. Darius had solved two riddles in about five minutes, and I felt such a wave of relief knowing that the two men he identified had been out of the picture at the time of Yelena’s murder—although I’d have to have Gilley look up Cavill and make sure he was still in Scotland.
Next to me, on the table, something buzzed. I looked down and saw that it was Darius’s phone.
“Andrew is calling,” I said, picking up the phone and offering it to him.
“Great!” he said, handing me the script and my phone, then taking up his own. “He’s my real estate guy. Excuse me.” Darius moved off toward the house to speak privately, and I sat in one of the Adirondack chairs and watched Gilley run around Finley as the toddler stood still and laughed and laughed at Gilley.
It was good to see Finley so unaffected by his mother’s absence. I knew that was unlikely to last, but the boy was young enough that it might not be as awful as you’d expect.
After another few minutes, Darius came back over to me and sat down again. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m selling my place in L.A.”
“The condo?”
He pulled his chin back in surprise. “You know about the condo?”
“I do. Sunny told me. Why’re you selling it?”
Darius’s gaze traveled to the ground again. He was clearly embarrassed. “I’m trying to raise money for Sunny’s defense. Marcus told me it could be as much as a half a million.”
“Yikes,” I said.
“Yep,” Darius said, looking sadly at Finley and Gilley playing together. “I’d pay anything to get Sunny off the hook. She’s the love of my life.” His voice hitched as he said the last part.
“We’ll do whatever we can, Darius,” I said softly. I really felt for him.
“Thanks,” he said, then offered a grateful smile.
A moment of awkward silence followed, and I asked, “Do you and Finley have enough to eat?”
“You mean for dinner and stuff?”
I nodded.
“Yeah. I guess. He’s got plenty of food, but I haven’t been very hungry.”
“We’d like to make you a lasagna. Would that be okay?”
“You kidding? Lasagna is my favorite. That’d be great, Catherine. Thank you.”
Gilley came up to us, holding Finley on his hip. “Whew!” he said. “This tyke has got some energy!” Gilley poked Finley’s belly button, and the boy squealed in delight.
Darius stood and held his arms out. “It’s almost dinnertime for him,” he said.
I got up too. “We’ll leave you to your daddy duties, but we’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Great. And, Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. And I mean that.”
I grinned. “Of course, Darius. Of course.”
When we were once again on the road, I said, “Is it okay with you if we stop at the grocery store?”
“I’ve got all the supplies I need for dinner, sugar.”
“What’re we having?”
“Chicken Veronique.”
“Ooo,” I said. “I love your chicken Veronique. But I was hoping we could pick up all the ingredients to make your famous lasagna tomorrow.”
“You know that takes me all day, right?”
“I’ll be there to help,” I said. “I want to make it for Darius and Finley.”
Gilley’s brow shot up. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I totally forgot about bringing them over something easy to heat up so they wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. Thanks for reminding me. And yes, we will absolutely make that tomorrow.”
“Yay!” I said, happy that he was willing to put in the time to make his famous dish.
We arrived at the grocery store, and just as I slid into a spot, my phone rang. “It’s Marcus,” I said.
“You talk. I’ll shop,” Gilley said.
I nodded, and Gilley hustled out of the car.
“Marcus,” I said happily. I always enjoyed talking to him.
“Catherine,” he said. “Got a minute?”
“I do. What’s up?”
“A couple of things.”
“Tell me.”
“For starters, the D.A. just sent over some exculpatory evidence that the new detective—”
“Santana?”
“Yeah, that sounds right. That Detective Santana found when he subpoenaed Yelena’s phone records.”
“What did he find?” I asked, knowing it was bad.
“A series of phone calls between Yelena and two numbers, both registered to Sunny D’Angelo, placed approximately twenty, ten, and five minutes before the start of her show.”
“Sunny had two phones?”
“It looks that way.”
“I’ve only ever called her on the two-four-two-four number,” I said, remembering the last four digits of Sunny’s number because my birthday was on the twenty-fourth of the month.
“She had another number listed with a three-eight-three-eight subscriber number.”
“What’s a subscriber number?”
“The last four digits of a telephone number.”
“Ah,” I said but then got back to the topic at hand. “So Sunny was calling her from both her phones?”
“And Yelena was calling her back at both numbers.”
“How long did the conversations last?”
“A minute or two for the first two calls, placed by Yelena to the three-eight number, then another call out to Sunny at the two-four-two-four number, and that one lasted ten minutes, but the last call was from Sunny’s phone to Yelena, and that lasted thirty seconds.”
“Could Sunny have left a message?”
“It’s possible. Still, it doesn’t bode well for Sunny’s case that she and Yelena were having phone calls back and forth with each other in the hours before Yelena’s murder. And it bodes even less well that the three-eight-three-eight number has been disconnected.”
I blinked. “It was disconnected?”
“Yes. The morning of the day Sunny confessed to murdering Yelena.”
“Whoa,” I said.
“Agreed,” Marcus said.
“Did you ask Sunny about it?”
Marcus sighed, and I could tell he was tired. “I did.”
“And?”
“And she’s all but catatonic, Catherine. She won’t respond to any of my questions. She just sits there, staring at nothing, and cries.”
I closed my eyes and felt tears sting the back of my lids. I couldn’t imagine what Sunny’s mental state was right now. I felt so bad for her.
“So, what are you going to do?” I asked.
“I’m going to call Darius and see if he can meet me at the county lockup and try to coax her out of her despondency. I’m hoping he can get her to answer my questions at least.”
“That’s a good plan,” I said. “He’s really worried about her. When are you going to go back for another talk with her?”
“Tomorrow, after we finish up at the EHCP and I drop Julia off at her home.”
“You’re accompanying her to the club,” I said.
“Yes. She works quick and dirty, and I like her style.”
“Good, Marcus. That’s good. Make sure
she stays safe, okay?”
“Definitely. Now, tell me about any progress you’ve made.”
“Well! Darius has actually shed some light for us on that front. He’s helped me identify two of the remaining three mystery men.”
“Which ones?”
“Two and Ten.”
“The man you think is a member of Congress and the race-car driver?”
“Yes. Good memory.”
“It comes in handy,” he said. “So, who are they?”
“Two was Darius’s uncle Roy.”
“Darius’s uncle dated Yelena?”
“He did. Roy was loaded, and that was all that mattered to Yelena, apparently.”
“Was he a congressman?”
“No. Turns out he actually lived on a hill. It’s not far from their home, in fact.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dead. Darius said he died a year ago.”
“Natural causes?”
“Stroke,” I said. “Anyway, Lover Number Ten is a guy named Killington Cavill.”
Marcus grunted. “I’m familiar with that name. He drove for an oil company.”
“Tire,” I said. “Penske.”
“Okay, so where is he now?”
“We think he’s back in Scotland. I’m going to have Gilley look into it tonight, see if he can’t pinpoint if that’s true and for how long Cavill has been back in his homeland.”
“Good,” Marcus said. “No luck with Number Twelve?”
“No,” I said. “Darius couldn’t fit the description to anyone he knew that Yelena had dated.”
“It would be nice to have all the names locked down,” Marcus said.
“It would. Gilley and I won’t give up, but for the moment, that guy remains a mystery.”
“All right, Catherine. Really good work so far. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, Marcus was gone. A moment later, Gilley appeared with a grocery cart brimming with paper bags. I got out and helped him load up the car.
“We really need all this just to make lasagna?”
“The best ingredients make the most delicious meals, sugar.”
“Good point.”
On the way home, I filled him in on my conversation with Marcus.
“I hope they can coax Sunny out of her despondency,” Gil said. He looked as worried as I felt.
“If anyone can do it, it’ll be Darius.”
Coached in the Act Page 24