Kyra Davis - Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights

“Yeah, yeah, tell it to Dershowitz.” I jammed my finger against the button labeled L. “Let me see the letter.”

Anatoly handed it over to me and I quickly unfolded it.

Dear Bobby,

I know I shouldn’t be writing this, but you’re all I can think about these days. Every time I drive by a restaurant in which we dined, or pass a park bench on which we sat, or walk down a street on which you held my hand, I think of you.

Oh, yuck.

I hope that by putting the feelings that are in my heart on paper I will be better able to sort through them and maybe even figure out the right thing to do.

I know you think I shouldn’t, but I keep thinking of your wife and child. I know that she’s been disloyal and that she’s hurt you, but two wrongs have never made a right. Thus, it is my moral obligation to end things between us.

But I can’t do it, Bobby. Whenever I force myself to entertain the idea of life without you, a little part of me dies. I can still remember the way your shirt felt against my cheek as we danced at the Starlight Room. That night you told me we were soul mates. When I recall those words I know that I will never be able to walk away from you. Does that make me a horrible person? How can an immoral relationship feel so right?

So, despite the guilt, I am yours. I have no right to ask you to choose between me and your family, but I hope that you will have pity on me and make your decision. If you choose your family I will be heartbroken but I will understand; it’s the right choice to make. I just don’t have the strength to make it.

Love Always,

B

“Oh, this chick is a piece of work!”

Anatoly stifled a laugh as the doors opened to the ground floor. “Maybe she’s being sincere,” he suggested as he escorted me to the sidewalk.

“Nah. All that ‘I’ll be heartbroken but I’ll understand’ stuff is total passive-aggressive BS. She actually had the nerve to try to guilt him into leaving his wife and child!”

“Mmm, maybe—”

We stopped in front of his bike and he handed me the spare helmet.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” he added.

“You think?”

“I know. We’re going to pay her a visit right now.”

“But she can’t be a slut,” Sara said with a confused shake of her head. “She buys her bras at Mervyn’s.”

—Words To Die By

As it turned out, Bianca lived in an eight-story building at the top of Nob Hill. Anatoly found her name next to a buzzer for the seventh-floor flat. “A twenty-one-year-old with a condo kitty-corner to Grace Cathedral.” Anatoly made an appreciative clucking sound with his tongue. “Pretty impressive prize for a man you described as the world’s biggest schmuck.”

“She probably has buck teeth and a lazy eye.”

Anatoly shrugged and pressed the buzzer. A few seconds later a feminine voice come through the speaker. “Yes?”

Anatoly held up his hand to stop me from saying anything. “Hello, Miss Whitman? My name is Anatoly Darinsky. I’m a private investigator. I was hired by Bob Miller’s family to investigate his death.”

There was a moment’s pause and then we heard a loud buzz as the door before us unlocked. Anatoly held it open for me and we waited at the elevator.

“At what point do I get to rip her hair out?” I whispered.

“No hair ripping. We’re going to make her feel as comfortable as possible.”

“You think she’s going to be comfortable talking to the sister of her lover’s wife?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Give me a break.”

“You’re not Leah’s sister,” he said as we stepped onto the elevator.

“I’m not?”

“Not for this interview. You’re my assistant and you will behave as such.”

I tapped my finger against my lips thoughtfully. “I like that. You know, I bet that a few weeks of working with you would be enough to drive me to the edge of insanity. I might just have a breakdown and start tearing out the hair of some adulterous slut for no reason.”

“Sophie…”

“Relax,” I said. “I’m just kidding…sort of.”

The elevator doors opened to the seventh floor, and standing in a small foyer was a pretty petite blonde wearing khakis and a white button-up blouse. A pink cardigan was draped over her shoulders.

Anatoly extended his hand to her. “Miss Whitman? Thank you for seeing me. This is—”

Bianca’s hand flew to her mouth. “You’re Sophie Katz, Leah’s sister!”

Well, so much for that plan. Anatoly looked away to better hide the pained expression on his face.

“You know me?” My hand instinctively clenched into a fist.

“Yes, of course! I’ve read every one of your books! I…oh, you must hate me. I don’t blame you. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” She bit her lip and looked down at her kitten-heeled sling-backs. “I keep thinking that this is some kind of nightmare—that none of this could possibly be true.”

“No, it’s true,” I said flatly. “Someone shot the bastard.”

Anatoly looked up at the ceiling and mumbled something in Russian, and Bianca’s eyes welled up with tears. “God help me, this is all my fault!”

Now, that was interesting. Anatoly and I exchanged quick looks. He put a comforting hand on her arm.

“Why don’t we step inside and talk.”

Bianca nodded weakly and turned to lead us into her home. The place was tastefully appointed in a very Laura Ashley way. She waved a hand at a floral couch and Anatoly and I took our seats. Bianca went to her purse, pulled out a lace handkerchief and gently dabbed her eyes. First Cheryl and now Bianca—at what point did hankies come back in vogue?

“Can I get you two anything? Coffee, tea? I think I have some ice tea left over from yesterday.”

“We’re fine,” Anatoly said. “I know you’re going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah, so is my sister,” I muttered under my breath.

Anatoly discreetly gave my arm a painful pinch and a little whimper escaped Bianca’s heart-shaped mouth as she sat down on the love seat opposite us. She lowered her head and looked up at me with misty blue eyes.

“As I said, I don’t blame you for hating me. I know what I did was awful. If I could take it all back—” Her voice caught and she looked away. “If I could just go back in time and make things right…”

“What did you mean when you said all this is your fault?” Anatoly asked.

“I started the chain of events that led to Bob’s death.” Bianca laced her fingers together and scrunched the hankie between her hands. “I knew getting involved with him was a mistake. Even if Leah was cheating on him…”

“Hello?” I jumped to my feet. “My sister never cheated on anyone in her life. It was the scum she was married to who had a hard time keeping it in his pants!”

Bianca looked startled for a moment, then compassionate. “I shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t tell you. It’s hardly the kind of thing one brags about. But she did cheat on him. It was her indiscretion that first brought Bob and me together. Both of us discovered that we had been betrayed by the people we loved and we sought solace in each other.”

I shook my head and opened my mouth to defend Leah against Bob’s lies, but Anatoly grabbed my hand and yanked me back down onto the couch. He cleared his throat and looked at Bianca. “Please continue. You were explaining how you started a chain of events.”

“Yes.” Bianca looked at me pityingly. “It started as just a friendship. I was at the bar at Boulevard waiting for a friend and he was there waiting for his associates to show up for a business dinner. He inadvertently overheard me while I was talking to my sister on my cell. I was telling her about what happened with Kevin—Kevin was my fiancé. He…he left me for someone else. When I hung up, Bob introduced himself. He told me he knew what I was going through because he was going through something similar—that was right after he had walked in on Leah in the arms of her personal trainer…”