Kyra Davis - Obsession, Deceit And Really Dark Chocolate

“Maggie Gallagher. Gallagher is my media consultant. She and O’Reilly bonded immediately. I think their Irish heritage played a role in that.”

“Is Gallagher here today?” I was following Fitzgerald’s lead by referring to her by her last name. In California pretty much everybody called one another by their first name, but clearly Fitzgerald had a preference for surnames.

“No, her husband is having surgery so she’ll be out for the next two days.”

“How awful. Is he going to be all right?”

“He’ll be fine, he’s had severe back pain for years and Gallagher finally convinced him to get a laminectomy.”

A bad back usually translated into a bad sex life. Plenty of people had been driven to adultery for lesser reasons. In her eulogy Gallagher said Eugene had been a father figure to her, but maybe she had a Freudian thing going on.

“O’Reilly hit the nail on the head when he compared us all to a family,” Fitzgerald continued. “Family unity is definitely what this campaign is all about. Politicians should take the principles and values they nurture within their homes and apply them to their work environment and their policies. That’s why character is so important.”

Fitzgerald was beginning to sound like one of his commercials. “Campaigning must be incredibly nerve-racking. There’s so much on the line,” I said. “I remember Melanie telling me a few weeks ago that Eugene was a bit on edge. How do you and your staff deal with the stress?”

“I find that prayer helps.”

The phone rang and Fitzgerald smiled apologetically before picking up.

I studied him while he proceeded to mutter a series of I-sees and interestings into the receiver. There was something about him that I didn’t trust—something about his hair. It was as if all that pomade was hiding something, maybe even the beginnings of a bald spot. I had always felt that men who tried to hide something as innocuous as hair loss were also likely to go to great pains to hide all of their other issues and faults.

“Ms. Katz, I’m so sorry,” Fitzgerald said as he hung up, “something’s come up and I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this interview short.”

“I think I have all the information I need for now, but if I have any further questions…”

“Just give me a call.” He rose from his seat and waited for me to do the same. “I’d be happy to help in any way that I can.”

Funny, he didn’t look happy. He looked nauseated. Whatever had “come up” couldn’t have been good. “Okay,” I said, “then maybe you could help me get an appointment with Maggie Gallagher and Rick…”

“Of course. I’m sorry to rush you out like this, but the mayor of Orinda is under the impression that I’m scheduled to meet with him this afternoon, although I would have sworn that meeting was tomorrow. But that’s politics for you. No one’s ever on the same page.”

“Totally understand.” I stuffed my notebook in my purse as he escorted me out of his office. Johnny was sitting at a desk right outside the door, clicking off his computer. “Did you have a good interview?”

“It was fine,” Fitzgerald said a bit too quickly. “Are you leaving for the day, Keyes?”

“I was going to, but if you need me to stay, I can. I don’t mind staying.”

“No, you go enjoy your evening,” Fitzgerald said. “Perhaps you can escort Ms. Katz to her car.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Johnny looked a little too excited about the task.

“Wonderful. Ms. Katz—” Fitzgerald turned to me one last time “—it’s been a pleasure.”

Fitzgerald disappeared back into his office, leaving me in Johnny’s incapable hands. I took one look at his dippy grin and started booking it toward the elevator. “You don’t need to escort me to my car,” I said over my shoulder as Johnny struggled to keep up with me. “It’s really not necessary.”

“I insist!” Johnny said. He jumped onto the elevator with me and eagerly pressed the button that would bring us to the ground floor. “That interview was shorter than I expected.”

“I had thought it was going to be longer, but as it turns out Fitzgerald forgot about an appointment with the mayor of Orinda.”

“The mayor of Orinda? He doesn’t have an appointment with him today.”

“Apparently the mayor wrote down the wrong date.” The elevator doors opened and I started race-walking toward my car.

“But I’m the one who confirms Fitzgerald’s appointments, and I don’t know anything about any appointment with the Orinda mayor today or even this month.” Johnny’s voice was getting a little panicky. “I couldn’t have forgotten something that important. Oh, jeez, what if I did? No wonder Fitzgerald looked kind of mad when he came out of the office. What if I messed up? I’ll be in so much trouble!”

“I guess you might be,” I said, not really caring. We had reached my car and I was desperately fishing for my keys.

“You want to join me for my dinner plans tonight?”

“No.” I knew it was rude to be so blunt, but clearly Johnny wasn’t good at picking up on subtlety.

“How come?”

Subtlety definitely wasn’t his thing. “Look, Johnny, you seem like a really nice guy but…”

“I’m actually meeting Rick Wilkes for dinner at Max’s Opera Café in Frisco and was hoping you could join us! You know, the one on Van Ness. He’s taking me out for my birthday—it was my birthday yesterday. Maybe you could bring your friend Mary Ann. I think Rick really liked her.”

“You’re meeting Rick Wilkes?” This could be helpful. I needed to talk to Rick, and if I could get him in a social setting (other than a funeral) he might be a little more chatty than if I set up a formal interview. “What time’s dinner?”

Johnny beamed. “Six-thirty. Do you think Mary Ann will come? Rick would really like that.”

“I’ll give her a call,” I promised. “Nice of you to invite us to your birthday dinner,” I added. “Especially since we’re all just friends.”

“No problem, it’ll be fun!” He looked down at his watch. “I guess I should let you go. I want to change before dinner. I want to look good for you, my new lady friend.” He winked at me before turning and heading off in the opposite direction.

Ew. I always attracted the winners.

I called Mary Ann on my way back to the city and she quickly agreed to dinner. I had a feeling that she was as interested in Rick as he was in her, which surprised me a little. Men were always asking Mary Ann out but she rarely said yes. Despite her naiveté she was pretty discerning when it came to the opposite sex.

Getting back to the city took far longer than I had anticipated. I was hit with a major Frappuccino craving but couldn’t find a Starbucks (a problem I hadn’t had since 1994). Then I hit rush-hour traffic, there was an accident on the Bay Bridge, yada, yada, yada.

When I finally arrived in my neighborhood I only had fifteen minutes to spare before getting to the restaurant. I thought about just going straight to dinner, but I needed to feed my cat and my feet were screaming to be freed from the designer torture devices I had confined them in.

I ran upstairs to my third-floor, two-bedroom f lat, and went straight to the bathroom, then rushed into the living room, where I pressed the play button on my answering machine and sat down on the arm of my sofa as I began to unbuckle my strappy sandals.

“I know what you’re really up to, Sophie,” a voice began. I did a quick double take. The voice wasn’t normal. It didn’t even sound fully human. Someone had left a message on my machine using a voice synthesizer.

“You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat,” the caller continued, “and that would be a shame…because I do…love…cats.”