A Killing in the Valley (38 page)

Luke grinned. “She was working her feminine wiles, huh? Did she learn that from you?”

“I wish. I’ve had more bad experiences with men than good ones. For sure, I haven’t controlled the relationships most of the time.” She shook her head regretfully. “And I’ve usually fucked up the good ones.”

Luke gave her a funky look, but he didn’t comment about how she’d just peeled off a scab. “Let’s put these two that we know about on ice. They’re not going anywhere. You need to check on the roommate. We have to find out what he was doing the afternoon of the killing.” He shook his head in wonder. “Wouldn’t it be unbelievable if your daughter wound up breaking this case for us.”

T
HE PLAY WAS A
roaring success. All the kids were terrific, but Sophia stole the show. Kate was admittedly biased, but anyone could see it. Sophia was a natural on stage; you couldn’t take your eyes off her.

There were half a dozen curtain calls. Sophia’s was the loudest and most raucous. While the adults were clapping loudly, the students, Sophia’s classmates and kids from other classes, were chanting:
Sophia Rocks!,
as if she had scored the winning touchdown in the championship game. Sophia, standing on the stage with the other cast members, their arms around each other, her face shining with sweat, was radiant. Kate had never seen her so happy.

She waited outside the stage door with the rest of the parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, and friends. Sophia was one of the last to come out. She was surrounded by friends—cast members, kids who had worked backstage, including Tina, other kids from school. Kate, suddenly the pushiest mother in the world, thrust her way through the throng to grab her daughter in a fierce embrace.

“You were so incredible!” She was practically screaming. “You were unbelievable!” She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, she was so excited.

“Mom, calm down,” Sophia implored her, glancing at her friends to see if her mother’s out-of-control emotionality was rubbing off on her. Nobody seemed to be noticing, or if they did, they didn’t think Kate’s carrying on was a reason for her to be embarrassed. It’s how parents act, they knew; all kids have to suffer through it.

A strange woman, apparently another mother, butted in on them. “You were wonderful,” the woman gushed to Sophia. “You stole the show completely.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t,” Sophia demurred. She didn’t want to look like she was a prima donna, even if the raving wasn’t of her doing. “Everybody was really good,” she said, looking over and smiling at the girl who had played Dorothy, who was surrounded by her own entourage.

The woman ignored her. “Are you the mother?” she asked Kate. Before Kate could even nod “yes,” let alone voice it, the woman continued, “She could have a career.” She reached into her purse for a card, which she thrust into Kate’s hand. “Call me,” she commanded Kate. “I have a jillion friends in the business. This is a talent that must not go to waste.” Turning to Sophia again: “This is the best high school performance I’ve ever seen. Thank you for such a special evening.” She turned and disappeared into the throng.

“Who was
that
?” Kate asked, glancing at the card in her hand.

“Gloria Manning,” Sophia answered. “Her daughter is Nicole. She’s in tenth grade. She was one of the munchkins.”

“Well, she was certainly taken with you,” Kate said. “Like everyone else.”

“Mom…”

Kate read out loud the inscription on the card. “Ivan Reitman Productions.” The name jolted her. “
The
Ivan Reitman?
Ghostbusters
?”

“She’s his line producer. Half the kids in the play have parents in the business. She says that to everyone, Mom.”

In the business.
Meaning movies and television; the only business in southern California, even as far from L.A. as Santa Barbara, that didn’t have to be identified by what kind of business it was. As if it was the only business in the world that mattered. Which to those in it, it was.

“I’m sure she doesn’t say that to everyone,” she disagreed. “You don’t have to be in the
business
to see how good you were.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Mom, drop it.”

“Okay,” Kate said. “Excuse me for being a proud parent.” She could feel tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh, Mom.” Sophia hugged her. “You’re such a softie.”

Only about you and your sister, Kate thought. Which I balance out by being too harsh toward the rest of the world.

“Hello, Mrs. Blanchard,” came a soft voice from behind her.

She turned. “Hello, Tina.”

“Did you like the play?” Tina asked shyly. “Sophia was very good, don’t you think?”

“Yes, to both questions,” Kate answered with a smile. She liked this girl. She hoped she wouldn’t have to hurt her.

She could feel Sophia’s eyes drilling into her. She turned away from Tina for a moment and looked at her daughter. Their eyes locked—then she gave the most imperceptible of nods. Her secret is safe, she was communicating. At least for now.

A horde of girls converged on Sophia, other kids from the show. They were all wound up. “Are you coming?” one of them cried out.

“Of course,” Sophia answered. “We’re going to a party at one of the kids’ houses, in Montecito,” she told Kate. She grinned. “His father’s in the business, too.”

“Okay.” Kate had hoped they could have their own victory party, but that could wait. “We’ll celebrate tomorrow night, or Sunday.”

“Tomorrow?” Sophia asked. She seemed flustered. “Why are you coming tomorrow night?”

“I’m coming every night,” Kate declared. “Tomorrow night and Sunday afternoon.”

“But Mom…”

“I’m going to bring Luke and Riva Garrison with me tomorrow night,” Kate went on, oblivious to her daughter’s discomfort. “They’ll love it, you know how much they care about you. And I’m going to call Wanda, see if she can drive down for the Sunday show. She’ll be so tickled to see you in this.”

Wanda had always been the more celebrated of her girls. She was a star athlete and a standout student, the valedictorian of her high school class, magna cum laude at Stanford. This was a way to balance the scales between them. Wanda would be as proud of Sophia as she was.

“Mom…” She pulled Kate off to the side. “I don’t want them coming tomorrow night. Or you, either.”

Kate was hurt. “Why not?”

Sophia glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on them, especially Tina. But nobody was paying them the least bit of attention, they were all in their own delirious worlds. “Jeremy’s coming tomorrow night,” she whispered.

“Jeremy? The boy who…?”

Sophia nodded. “He doesn’t know what you do. I don’t want him to find out like that. He’s going to freak out when he does. I need to pick the right time and place, so the whole world won’t get splattered when he explodes.”

Kate thought about how she should deal with this problem. “We could hang back,” she suggested. “He wouldn’t have to know we were there.”

Sophia shook her head firmly. “No, Mom. Somebody’s bound to point you out to him. Please.”

Kate gave in. “Okay, I won’t come tomorrow night. We’ll all come on Sunday. Okay?”

Sophia was relieved. “Okay.”

She turned to go. Kate stopped her. “I need to explain something, Sophia.” She was deadly serious now. “Luke and I are going to talk to this boy. It’s vitally important to us. I’ll try my best to protect Tina, but there aren’t any guarantees about that, either. But we’ll do what we can to shield her, I promise you that.”

Sophia stared at her with apprehension. “But Mom…”

“Don’t forget, the reason you got together with Jeremy in the first place was to find out if he knew about Maria’s killing,” Kate said, overriding Sophia’s objection before she could voice it. “And now you know that he does, from his own mouth. You started this,” she again reminded Sophia. “We’re incredibly grateful and lucky that you did, but you did, and we can’t push the genie back into his bottle. So I’ll respect your wishes about tomorrow night, but we are going to talk to him.”

She gave Sophia a hug, which Sophia reluctantly endured. “Don’t worry about hurting his feelings,” she said, the protective mother hen again, “If he had done the right thing in the first place, it wouldn’t be an issue. He’s the one who has the moral problem, not you.”

Sophia nodded. “I know, Mom. But still, I promised.” She put on a brave smile. “I’ll be okay with it. But don’t come tomorrow night.”

“I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t,” Kate promised her. “Now go and enjoy your party. We’ll have a celebration breakfast instead.”

“I have a riding lesson with Juanita tomorrow. I’ll be out of the house really early.”

“I forgot.” In truth, she hadn’t forgotten—she didn’t know about it. Sophia made her own schedule with Juanita now. “Give her my regards. Invite her to Sunday, too.”

Sophia beamed. The better she knew Juanita, the more she liked her. It was like she had inherited a grandmother. She would love for Juanita to see her in the play, and she knew Juanita would love to see her in it.

“I’ll do that,” she promised.

The stable was dark and cool. It was a relief to be in here, after having been outside in the sun. It was late in autumn now, so the heat wasn’t as bad as it had been in the months before, but it still got hot out here in the valley, even in the morning, when they customarily went riding.

Juanita was in the house, making their lunch. She had been thrilled at the invitation to come to the play. She hadn’t been to a proper social function in Santa Barbara for over a year. Even though it was only a high school production on a Sunday afternoon, she was going to dress up fancy. Sophia deserved that respect, she’d declared, to Sophia’s professed mortification. Although inwardly, she was pleased that Juanita took her seriously.

Sophia brushed and watered the horses and replenished their feed bags. Then she checked to see that the tack was wrapped and hung on the proper hooks. Satisfied that everything was in order, she sat on a low wooden bench and pulled off her riding boots, which she kept here. This was the only place she wore them. If she left them here, there was no chance she’d leave them home, by accident.

“Hello.” The voice came from out of the gloom at the back of the stable.

Sophia jumped. She looked behind her. Steven McCoy was standing at the other end. She couldn’t see his face because he was in shadow, but she knew he was staring at her. How long had he been there, she wondered? How long had he been watching her? Spying on her.

“Hello,” she said back, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. She was still in her socks. She hadn’t put her running shoes back on yet.

He walked toward her, emerging into the soft diffused light that leaked through the stable’s weather-stressed wooden walls. He was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and work boots, not cowboy boots. His clothes were stained with grease, dirt, and sweat. He had taken his hat off, and his wet hair was plastered to his head. It was the sexiest look on a man she had ever seen in her life.

“How was your ride?” he asked. His voice was low and easy. There was no menace to it. He stood near her, a disarming smile on his face. Nothing about the way he presented himself was frightening, yet she felt her nerve endings coming on fire.

“Good.” Her lips were dry. She licked them. “It was good.”

“My grandmother says you’re a good rider.” He smiled again, a king of the world smile. “She says you’re a natural.”

“I’m all right,” she demurred. “I’ve got a lot to learn.”

“You’re learning from the master. Can you call a woman a master?” he teased her.

“I guess.” Her heart rate was starting to go down. He was just a man. Just a beautiful man. He wasn’t going to do anything to her, not with Juanita nearby.

He looked down at her feet. “You shouldn’t walk around in your socks in here,” he advised her. “There’s loose nails lying around, from horseshoes and stuff.”

“I was about to put my shoes on.” She pointed to her New Balance running shoes that were next to the boots.

He looked at her some more, but didn’t say anything. Disconcerted, she sat back down and pulled the running shoes on and laced them up. She stood up again.

“I’m going inside,” she told him. “Juanita’s making lunch for us.” She hesitated for a moment. “Are you going to join us?”

He shook his head. “I’m not supposed to be around you. I could get into trouble if they found out I was in here with you, alone.”

“They?”

“The detectives who check up on me. I have to report in every day. Sometimes they come out here unannounced, to see if I’m doing what I tell them I’m doing.”

“What do you tell them you’re doing?” she asked him.

“Keeping my nose clean.”

She smiled at him. “It’s dirty now. You must have wiped it with your greasy hand.” She picked up a towel she had used to dry herself off with after her ride. “I’ll get it for you.”

Brazenly, she reached up and wiped the grease off his face. They were close to each other now, inches apart. He gently took her wrist in his hand, as one would hold a captured wild bird.

His mouth was hot on hers. He hadn’t shaved—she could feel the rough texture of his beard scraping her cheek. He ground his pelvis against her, between her blue-jeaned legs, and she pushed back equally hard. Their hands were on the backs of each other’s heads, pulling them closer, mashing their mouths even more tightly together. His tongue was long and hot, like a snake diving into a hole. She felt like biting it, but she restrained herself.

He broke the kiss. They rocked apart, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I can’t be here,” he said. He was breathing as hard as she was. “It’s too close to the house. My grandmother will go ballistic if she finds me in here with you.”

She nodded. She didn’t want him to go. She wanted to kiss him again, and so much more.

“I’ll see you the next time you come out,” he said. He smiled. “When no one’s around to spy on us.”

He looked at her a moment longer, then he turned and walked to the rear of the stable and out the same back door that he’d come in earlier.

She wiped her hand across her mouth. She could feel the stubble burn on her cheek and chin. It would get red later, she’d have to put extra makeup on to cover it.