Live and Let Lie

by Carolyn Scott

  "Let me up!" Naomi cried. She flapped her arms, trying to grasp Evan's hands.

  "Babe. Chill," he said cheerfully. "You won't catch your breath if you don't relax."

  "I am fucking relaxed, you fucking moron!"

  "Jeez, no need to shout." He let her go and she popped up like a jack-in-the-box, her face red and her eye makeup smeared. She looked like a vicious clown.

  "They've got to be in here!" Angela shouted again. She stood up and glared at Dante. "Where are they?"

  "Sweetheart—"

  "Don't. Just don't." She pulled back the bed cover and sheets, tossing them over Naomi's head as she still sat on the end. Naomi emerged from the shroud, her hair an even bigger mess. At least she seemed calmer, her tantrum already forgotten as she watched Angela tear the covers off the pillows.

  Finding nothing, Angela bared her teeth and snarled at her husband. "I know they're in here somewhere. I can smell sex in this room."

  Eeewwww, seriously?

  Dante went to her, hands out in what was either a placating or defending gesture. "Calm down, Angie. You've got yourself worked up over nothing."

  "Nothing? Nothing! Christ, do you two think I'm stupid? I know you've had sex in here, and I know those earrings are in here. We find them and I've got you." She stabbed her finger into Dante's chest. "I've got you then, you slimy piece of shit."

  "Honey, Naomi's earrings aren't in here. You've looked everywhere."

  "They were. I don't know how or when you did it, but you removed them."

  I've seen Fatal Attraction. I know what a jealous madwoman looked like and Angela fit the bill perfectly. It was lucky her slinky dress couldn't hide any weapons or Dante would be in trouble. Maybe he should stand between her and the table lamp. It looked heavy.

  "Angie, calm down," he cooed. "There's nothing going on between me and Naomi. The earrings must have been stolen from the bathroom like she said."

  "By who? No one was up here except you two."

  "You watched the entire time?"

  She hesitated. "No-o."

  "Then how do you know?"

  "Oh, puh-lease. All the staff were working. Maybe one of the guests went up, but I doubt it. And anyway, what were you two doing up here together if not to have sex?"

  He rubbed his nose the way a coke addict does after a hit. "Naomi needed something to get her in the party mood. I gave her some of my special mood-lifter powder."

  Angela didn't seem to buy it, but she said nothing. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes filled with tears. She looked defeated and I felt sorry for her again.

  Dante circled his arms around her waist. She pushed him away. He sighed and looked at each of us in turn. When he got to Sofia, he frowned. "I think we should look through the maid's pockets again."

  Several people gasped, including me. Sofia whimpered.

  "Haven't you harassed her enough?" I snapped.

  "Last time she emptied her pockets herself," Dante said. "This time someone else should do it."

  "She was frisked. If she had them on her, they would have been found."

  "It's easy to miss a small pair of earrings."

  "Bullshit."

  My protests fell on deaf ears. "You can go through them," he told me.

  "No!"

  "Are you sure, Dante?" Naomi said. "You did already check. It doesn't seem very nice to keep accusing her. Maybe someone else was up here after all."

  "We're checking again," he said through a tight jaw.

  "Dude," Evan said. "Sofia said she wasn't up here."

  "Who the hell are you?"

  "The Ev-ster." Evan gave him one of his “well, duh” looks.

  "Naomi claimed she saw you," Dante said to Sofia.

  "What makes her word more reliable than Sofia's?" I cried.

  Dante snorted. "It just is."

  I ground my teeth together to stop myself arguing with him. Some people will not admit defeat or see your side of things, even when facts are presented to them. Those are the people who should be ignored if you have high blood pressure or a tendency to get violent. I abhorred violence, but I wasn't willing to risk the high blood pressure thing. My family had a history of it.

  Angela clicked her tongue. "If it'll shut down this ridiculous accusation once and for all, then I'll do it. Come here, Sofia."

  Naomi's gaze locked with Sofia's. After a moment she shrugged, as if to say she'd tried. I admired her for trying to help Sofia out, even though it was too little. The only reason Sofia had been accused was because of Naomi's initial lie.

  "I said, come here," Angela snapped. "I know it's not fair, but life isn't fair. Suck it up."

  Sofia swallowed and stepped up to Angela. Angela dug her hands into the two pockets on either side of the maid's dress. She suddenly went still, except for her jaw which fell open. She removed her hands.

  A pair of earrings dangled from her fingers.

  CHAPTER 4

  "I did not put them there!" Sofia spun to face Dante, but he still had that self-satisfied smirk on his face. She wouldn't get any help from him, or the others. Suddenly no one would look her in the eye. Not even Naomi, the one who'd started the finger pointing.

  It was totally surreal. I felt a little numb. I didn’t believe Naomi when she said the earrings must have been stolen from the bathroom or when she accused Sofia.

  Now I wasn't so sure.

  "Sofia?" I asked softly. "Have you got an explanation?"

  She shook her head. There was real fear on her face now. She began to mutter in Spanish under her breath and pace the floor.

  "I knew it," Dante said. "I knew she had them all along."

  I said nothing. None of us did. We couldn't explain what had just happened, let alone prove she didn't do it.

  Dante leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, every bit the arrogant pig I thought him to be. "I overheard you two talking," he said with a nod at Evan and me. "You said she's not even Mexican. Stands to reason then that she lied about a lot of things to get into our home. My guess is she planned on stealing something all along. Naomi's earrings were an easy option after she saw them in the bathroom."

  "No!" Sofia cried. "No, it is not true! Ms. Levine, Mr. Ramirez, you must believe me. I did not steal anything! And I am Mexican."

  Dante snorted. Douchebag. "Does anyone else here speak fluent Mexican Spanish?" he asked.

  Evan shuffled his feet. "Not fluent, no."

  "Seems we only have your word for it, Sofia."

  "Wait," I said. "The chef's assistant. He spoke to her. I overheard him, and so did Evan and the chef. We could ask him."

  "Thank you, Cat." Sofia grasped my arm and clung to it. "Thank you, thank you. You are such a good friend. A good, good friend." Her exuberance was a little much considering we'd only met a few hours earlier. I extricated myself and stepped back. Sofia arched her brows at Dante and Naomi as if to say 'see!'

  Naomi winced.

  "You're not off the hook yet," Dante said. "We still found Naomi’s earrings in your pockets. We'll talk to the kitchen staff, but it changes nothing. We're calling the cops."

  Sofia sobbed. I circled my arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

  "I did not do it, Cat," she said. "Please, please help me prove it. I did not steal."

  "The police will sort it out," I said.

  "No! Please, do not involve police. Please, Cat, you must help me. You are the only one who believes me."

  Way to make a girl feel like a bitch. The problem was, I couldn't see how Sofia could be innocent. The earrings were in her pockets, and I was almost sure she was lying about something. My instincts were rarely wrong about people. I may have liked Sofia, but I didn't trust her.

  We filed out of the room. Dante walked behind Sofia and me. Apparently he thought she was a flight risk, because he was so close I could hear him breathing.

  Angela brought up the rear. She had been strangely quiet ever since finding the earrings in Sofia's pocket. I had no doubt that
she was as shocked as anyone that her maid had the jewelry. Clearly she'd thought Naomi and Dante were lying and the earrings would turn up in one of the bedrooms.

  We'd all been so wrong.

  To my surprise, the partygoers hadn't left. It felt like an age since we'd headed upstairs. Apparently the promise of free alcohol, food, and scandal was too alluring.

  "Go question the kitchen staff," Angela directed Dante. "I'll see our guests out."

  "I should too," he said.

  "Go!"

  Dante cleared his throat and grabbed Sofia roughly by the arm. "Come with me. You too," he said to Evan and me. The two guests who'd tagged along on the search had already melted away into the crowd now hanging on Angela's every word as she calmly thanked them for coming.

  The chef greeted Evan by shoving a dishcloth at his chest. "Wash. Now." He untied his apron, removed his hat, and tossed them both into a sports bag sitting on the bench. "My part's over. I'm going home." To Dante he said, "If you want me to work here again, do not employ my moron of a brother-in-law." He grabbed the bag and stormed out, slamming the back door behind him.

  "Chefs are so sensitive," Evan whined. He looked at the pile of dirty pots and pans and sighed. "Hey, Juan, come and help me."

  "Not my job," Juan said in a light accent. He too removed his hat and apron.

  "Juan, I have a question for you." Dante said in a low, deep voice that some men employed when speaking to other manly men. And Juan was definitely manly. He was tall and dark, his longish hair tied back, his broad shoulders straining the seams of his T-shirt. Very sexy. "What nationality are you?"

  "Mexican."

  "Can you tell another Mexican just from talking to her?"

  Juan nodded. "Sure."

  "What about Sofia here? Is she Mexican?"

  "Sure. I spoke to her a couple times. I've lived here longer, but we have the same accent." He smiled at Dante, then at Sofia. His smile slipped at the sight of her tear-stained face. He said something to her in Spanish and she responded, appealing to him with her hands. She started to cry again.

  Juan backed up to the door. "Sorry. I need to work. I cannot help you." He shrugged and left.

  Sofia swallowed hard and turned a defiant glare on Dante. "See! I am Mexican. I do not lie and I do not steal."

  "It changes nothing." Dante fished his cell phone out of his shirt pocket. "We're still calling the police."

  "No! Please." She threw herself at him and clutched his arm. "You have the earrings back now."

  "She's right, Dante," Naomi said. "Can we leave the police out of this? Let's just put the whole night out of our minds and forget it happened. No harm done."

  "No harm! Naomi—" He pressed his lips together, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say. I followed his gaze to see Angela standing in the doorway that led to the main part of the house.

  "Everyone's gone," she said. "It's just us now."

  "Ms. Levine, please." Sofia let Dante go and grasped onto Angela instead. Angela flicked her off as if she were an annoying insect. "No police, I beg you."

  "I don't like it, but we have to," Angela snipped. "Half of Hollywood knows that one of my staff stole from me tonight. The other half will find out in the next hour. If I don't do something about it, I'll be seen as weak, a victim. I am not a victim."

  Sofia began to cry.

  "Come on now," I said, hugging her. "It may not be as bad as you think. You could argue it was opportunistic and not premeditated. If you're found guilty, you would get a lighter sentence."

  "Whoa," Evan said from the sink where he hadn't even turned on the water. "Did you study law or something, Catwoman?"

  "My father's a retired cop." Huh. I guess I learned something from him after all. Either that or I've watched too many cop shows.

  "You do not understand," Sofia said. "It is worse than you think. I have no permit to be here."

  Oh. Crap. "Then I guess they'll deport you. I know it's not something you want, but you'll get through this."

  "Si, Cat, but I want to be actress in Hollywood so bad. It is my dream since I am little girl. But if I am arrested, I will not work here again."

  "How did you get work here at all without a permit?"

  She bit her lip and looked away. I wasn't going to get that information out of her. It was unlikely she'd gotten parts without a green card, so somehow she must have bought herself a fake one. That was something for the police to sort out. I felt bad for her, but she was a thief, and she was in the country illegally. The law had to be followed.

  I was turning into my dad after all this time. Ugh. Next I'd be wanting to sit at the computer all day and work in a boring office.

  "Is that why you took this job too?" I asked her. "You hoped to get a part in one of Angela's movies?"

  "Si, si. Like you, I want to be something. Someone. Ms. Levine employs me for tonight and I hope to talk to her and get a part. She will be casting for a Western soon. Westerns need Mexicans, si?"

  Dante snorted. "No producer or director ever employed anyone after they did a couple of menial jobs around the house. Not unless you sleep with them too."

  Naomi shifted her feet then excused herself. "I need a drink."

  Sofia muttered something in Spanish under her breath as she watched Naomi leave. Going by the flash in her eyes, it hadn't been a compliment.

  "God, I need a drink too." Angela beckoned Dante with the crook of her finger. "Go call the police. You come with me, Sofia. I want to keep my eye on you."

  "What about me?" I asked.

  Angela waved at the dirty pile of dishes. "Help clean up."

  Evan grinned. "Come on, Cat, let's get dirty together."

  No way. Doing the dishes was something I did at home to keep the ants away. It wasn't part of my job description for the evening.

  I left Evan alone in the kitchen and joined the two other waitresses collecting glasses from the tables, floor, and poolside. I'd changed my mind and decided I could finish the job I'd been employed to do after all. Impending eviction can make a girl set aside her morals sometimes.

  The dull task gave me a few minutes to collect my thoughts. I remembered I'd wanted to ask Angela why she, and not her assistant, had employed Sofia before Dante's snide remark had distracted me.

  I went back inside and spotted Naomi and Sofia together in the living room. Sofia was lighting Naomi's cigarette for her. Seemed they'd made up.

  Wait. Rewind. Making up implied there was a relationship in the first place. Naomi had called Sofia 'Sof' earlier. Only a friend would shorten a person's name like that. Also, seeing the two of them in that moment clicked a memory into place. I knew I'd seen Sofia before. I also remembered who I'd seen her with—Naomi.

  She'd lit the up-and-coming star's cigarette for her on a movie set a year or so ago. Sofia and I had both been extras, but there were hundreds of us and I never spoke to all of them. I had noticed Sofia though, because she'd been with Naomi a lot. In fact, they'd been inseparable.

  And now they were here, pretending not to know one another.

  CHAPTER 5

  Working out that Naomi and Sofia knew each other was like wedging a crowbar into a small crack and widening it. Instead of only a few grains of sand falling through, now rocks and boulders tumbled in.

  I marched into the living room where both women now sat a little apart, silent. Angela was sprawled on a nearby couch, lazily sipping from a glass. Dante stood by the window where he could see the drive. There was no sign of the police yet.

  I sat beside Angela. She pointed her glass at me. "I've paid you to work until everything is tidied up. Get up and clean, or I'll cut your pay. In fact, you've done very little all night. Give me one good reason why I should pay you at all."

  "Because I know what's going on. I know who really took the earrings and why." I leaned closer and whispered loudly. "Here's a hint. It wasn't Sofia."

  She arched a pencil-thin brow. Then her gaze slid to her husband. He'd turned to look at us, as had Nao
mi and Sofia. "Go on," she said to me.

  "Don't listen to her," Dante said. "She's clearly Sofia's friend. Of course she's going to lie to help her out."

  "I'm not the one who's Sofia's friend," I said.

  Angela slowly swirled the amber liquid around her glass, then finally took a sip. It was an agonizing moment while we all waited for her talk. "What's your name again?"

  "Cat. Cat Sinclair." Phew. I'd gotten my name in. It had taken all night, but now she had a name to go with my face. It was those little mental connections that could get a girl some work.

  "Tell me what you think is going on, Cat." If she hadn’t so badly wanted proof of her husband’s affair with Naomi, I suspected Angela would have dismissed me and let Sofia take the blame. I didn't care what made her want to listen, it only mattered that she did.

  Dante strode across the room and took his wife's hand. "Don't listen to her! She's just going to make stuff up to get noticed. It's what wannabes do."

  Angela pulled her hand free. "You should know."

  The wind left Dante's sails. He stepped back until he hit a chair and sat heavily. He stared at Angela, but she didn't look at him.

  "Go ahead," she said to me.

  "First, I have a question for you. Why did you employ Sofia tonight and not your assistant?"

  She shrugged. "A friend asked me to give her work as a favor. I like to do favors for my friends from time to time. It means they'll owe me. She told me Sofia was a friend of her friend's or something." She waved her glass in the air, sloshing the liquid up the sides. "I don't recall."

  "Does your friend also know Naomi?"

  "What's this got to do with me?" Naomi asked.

  I ignored her and waited for Angela to answer.

  "I think she might." Angela frowned into her glass. "Actually, yes she does. They've worked together before."

  "So have Naomi and Sofia," I said. "They're friends too."

  Naomi sprang to her feet. "We are not!"

  "Yes. You are. I saw you together on the set of Run For It."