Jonathan Kellerman - Twisted

“Charming fellow.”

“Have you met him?”

Petra nodded.

“So you know. I can’t prove he did it, I just feel it. Always have. We all did- Sarah and Mel and I. Not just because Kurt’s strange. Because of the way it happened. That night in the theater, when Marta’s phone rang, she bolted up so quickly she nearly tripped over my legs. Then she hurried out, without explanation, as if her life depended on it.” Pastern smiled queasily. “That came out wrong.”

Petra said, “Did she slip the phone open and read the sender’s number?”

Pastern thought. “I don’t think so… no, I’m sure she didn’t. I don’t think her phone even had a lid to flip- six years ago mine didn’t. No, she just switched it off and got up and ran out. We were pretty taken aback. Generally, Marta was super-polite. Sarah wanted to go out and check immediately but Melanie told her it might be a private family affair, she should give Marta her privacy. Marta was a private person. You never really knew where she was coming from. The three of us were making too much noise discussing it and people started to shush us, so we shut up and waited until intermission.”

“How long was that?”

“Maybe ten minutes,” said Pastern. “Maybe fifteen. When Marta didn’t return in a couple, I remember not being able to concentrate on the show. Then I figured she didn’t want to cause any more disruption by coming back for such a short interval, was probably waiting for us in the lobby. The moment the curtain dropped, we hurried out to find her but she wasn’t there. We immediately called her cell but no one answered and that’s when we started to get worried. We decided to split up to look for her in the theater. Which wasn’t easy, the Pantages is a big place, all those people streaming out.”

She frowned. “I got the job of checking the ladies’ room. Kneeling down and checking the shoes in the stalls. Marta wasn’t there. Wasn’t anywhere. We tried to figure out what to do. The consensus was that she’d been called out on a personal matter, probably by Kurt. Maybe something to do with Katya, it had to be serious for her not to return, not to even tell us. Maybe she needed to keep her line clear so we decided not to try to call her again and went back in, saw the rest of the show. I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Worried about Marta.”

“At that time, I was more worried about what had caused her to leave so impulsively,” said Pastern. “Do you have kids?”

Petra shook her head.

“It’s a lifetime of anxiety, Detective. Anyway, after the show, the three of us walked to my car- I’d driven. Everyone except Marta, she came in her own car.”

“Why?”

“She had an appointment in the city, didn’t want to bother coming back to the Valley then back again. She arrived when we did, parked right near my car. When we looked, her car was gone. That made sense to us- given what we figured.”

“Where was the lot?”

“Right across the street from the theater.”

Marta’s vehicle had been found around the corner from the theater and two blocks down. Ballou had made no mention of it being moved from the parking lot.

She’d left with the killer. Lured to a dark, quiet spot. Bludgeoned on the sidewalk, then propped behind the wheel of her own vehicle.

Petra said, “What kind of appointment did Marta have in the city?”

“She didn’t say.” Pastern shifted. Looked down at her own tile-work. “Marta went into the city a lot. My initial take was that the Valley bored her. She grew up in Hamburg, which is supposed to be a pretty sophisticated city. Back in Germany, she’d been some sort of mathematician or engineer. That’s where she met Kurt, he’s a rocket designer or something like that- he was doing something for the government at one of the military bases. They got married there, had Katya in Germany, moved to the States soon after.”

Long answer to a short question and now Pastern was stirring her tea rapidly, as if willing the liquid to evaporate. Talking about Marta’s errands had made her jumpy.

“Your initial take was boredom,” said Petra. “Any other reason for her to come into the city frequently?”

The spaces between Pastern’s freckles pinkened. “I don’t want to say when I don’t know.”

“Say what, Emily?”

“Are you married, Detective?”

“Used to be.”

“Oh. Sorry for prying.”

“No prob.”

“It’s funny,” said Pastern. “The way we’re talking, as if this was just two girls… I’m glad the police let women do important jobs now.”

Down below, Sophia stirred. Pastern dipped a finger in her snifter, rubbed liquid over the dog’s nose and mouth. “The heat’s not great for her, but she’s pretty robust. Back in Italy, they live outdoors, guard estates.”

“Did the Doebblers own a dog?”

“Never,” said Pastern. “At one point, Marta wanted one. For Katya. She said Kurt wouldn’t allow it. I think that’s abusive, don’t you? Animals are great for kids. They teach them a lot about giving and sharing.”

“Absolutely,” said Petra. “So Kurt doesn’t like animals.”

“He told Marta they were too messy.” Pastern fiddled with her hair. “What I said before- that I always thought Kurt did it. That won’t get back to him, right? Because it’s not an accusation, just a feeling. And he does live close.”

“It will absolutely not get back to him, Emily.”

“I’m going to believe you on that. I guess that’s about it.”

Petra said, “Could we talk more about Marta’s errands in the city?”

Pastern answered quickly. “She liked to shop- discount clothing places, that kind of thing.”

Let it ride. “Okay… can you think of any reason Kurt might have to murder Marta?”

“So you do suspect him?”

“At this point I don’t know enough to suspect anyone, Emily. That’s why it’s important for you to tell me everything you know.”

“I have.” Pastern’s smile was shaky.

Petra smiled back. Tasted her designer coffee. Dreadful. She’d give Pastern one more try and if the woman continued to resist, follow up with a phone call tomorrow. Tonight.

Emily Pastern untied her hair and shook it loose. She had knotted it up tight, created an austere little bun that gave her face an ascetic cast.

“The errands,” said Petra.

“Okay. I might as well tell you because you’ve taken the trouble after all these years and you do seem like someone who cares.”

She moistened the dog’s snout again. Breathed in deeply.

Dramatic type; Petra wondered how much of what she said could be taken seriously.

“Okay,” Pastern repeated. “I’m pretty sure Marta was having an affair.”

Petra waited for the woman’s breathing to slow. “With who?”

“I don’t know, Detective. But she gave off all the signs.”

Petra held out an expectant palm.

Emily Pastern said, “Dressing better, walking bouncier- sexier. Color in her cheeks. She was still reserved, but there was something going on beneath the surface. A glow. A fire.”

The color in Pastern’s cheeks heightened. Ah, suburbia.

Petra said, “Happier than usual.”

“More than happier. Alive. It wasn’t because of Kurt, believe me. He was the same old dull Kurt.”

“But Marta changed.”

“Anyone who knew her could tell she had. Suddenly she was gone all the time. Rushing here, rushing there. Which wasn’t like Marta at all. It was true what I said about her being bored. She told me she found the Valley too slow. But her way of coping had been stay-at-home stuff. Being a PTA mom, collecting- glass figurines, samplers, little Japanese teapots. She used to hit the flea markets regularly. Then all that stopped and she boxed up her collections and started driving into the city regularly.”