couldn’t hear Leah anymore, nor was I suffering the effects of the alcohol. All I could feel was the beginning of a panic attack. I took a deep breath and tried to make my voice slow, steady and clear. “Leah, I need you to hang up the phone right now and call the police.”
I could make out Leah’s quiet sobs on the other end of the line. “Leah, this is really important. I’m coming over but I need you to call them right now.”
She made some kind of weak affirmative noise. I hung up and for a few moments I couldn’t get myself to move. This was very bad. Hours after Bob had informed Leah that he was leaving her, he had transformed into a bloody corpse, and the phone records would show that the first number Leah dialed after discovering his body was not 911, but mine.
I looked down at Mr. Katz who had wrapped himself around my foot. “What now?”
My first stop was not Leah’s but Anatoly’s. I double parked in front of his building, ran up to the stoop and stood methodically tapping the buzzer until he relented and came down. He threw open the glass door and glared at me.
“Get your finger off the button, now.”
“Anatoly, I need help.”
“I’m not a psychiatrist.”
“Not that kind of help—” I took a moment to turn and acknowledge a driver yelling obscenities as he maneuvered around my illegally parked Audi “—although that should probably be my next stop. I’m here because Leah’s in trouble.”
“Leah’s made her choice, and you’re going to have to deal with that. Who knows—maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll end the affair.”
“The affair’s pretty much a nonissue now, unless of course his mistress is into necrophilia.”
Anatoly’s lower jaw seemed to detach from his head. “She killed him? What the hell is wrong with you people? Doesn’t anyone in your family understand that vigilante justice is wrong?”
“She didn’t do it.” As soon as I said the words I realized my voice lacked the conviction to make them believable. I cleared my throat and forced myself to look Anatoly in the eye. “My sister did not shoot her husband. She loved him. Yes, they were having problems, but she was fully confident that they would work through them.”
Anatoly’s forehead creased and he leaned against the door frame. “What is this? Rehearsal for when you have to talk to the police?”
“Why? Didn’t I sound convincing?”
“That’s it. We’re done here. Goodbye, Sophie.”
I put my foot in the path of the door, inadvertently bringing myself closer to Anatoly. I could feel his breath in my hair and, despite his harsh words, I could see the twinkle of interest ignite in his eyes as he noted my new proximity. His mouth curved into a little half smile. I know that people often find themselves craving sex after a funeral but it probably isn’t healthy to be overcome with lust right after a family member has been shot. I distracted myself by looking at his feet. I’ve never been into feet no matter how big they are.
“Anatoly, I’m here to hire you. I was going to pay you six thousand dollars to find out if Bob was messing around. Now I’m offering you…ten. Ten grand to find out who messed with him.”
“It’s not about the money, Sophie.”
“What if I raise it to twelve? Then can it be about the money?”
He was silent for a bit and I kept my eyes glued to his boots. My friend Marcus always says that if a man’s shoes match his belt it means he’s gay. Anatoly must be the straightest man alive because his shoes never match anything. They are always ugly and—
“If you hire me I might uncover information that you don’t want to know.”
The statement was loaded with enough reality to quiet my raging hormones. I refocused on his face. “Then I’ll fire you.”
Anatoly snorted and looked out to the street. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
“Great!” I pulled my keys out of my pocket and dangled them in front of him. “Get your coat and get in the car. I’ll fill you in on the details on the way.”
“I didn’t say I would take the case.”
“But you were about to. Come on, no more banter. The police are arriving at the scene as we speak.”
Anatoly shook his head in defeat. “I’m going upstairs to get some things. Wait for me in the car.” He retreated into the building and I ran to my car. I snapped on my seat belt and put my hand on the gearshift, ready to press it into first the minute his cute butt hit the seat. Anatoly was obviously less anxious. He strolled out wearing a generously cut leather coat and no other visible accessories. Maybe he had all his James Bond–like spy stuff hidden in his inside pockets.
Instead of taking his place in the passenger seat he came around to the driver’s side and opened my door. “Move over, I’m driving.”
“It’s my car.”
Anatoly bent down so that he was at eye level. “After your sister left your apartment, what did you do?”
“I watched some TV.”
“Right. Did you have any snacks while you were watching?”
“What would I snack on?”
“Vodka.”
“Vodka’s a good snack. Easy to prepare, light on calories…”
Anatoly smiled. “I’m driving.”
I gripped the wheel possessively. “Anatoly, you can’t possibly think I’m drunk.”
“No, I think your blood alcohol level is hovering around .08 but since we’re going to a place that we know will be crawling with cops it would be best if we don’t test fate.”
I grunted in disgust but relinquished my seat to him. “You think you know me so well.”
Anatoly positioned himself behind the wheel and adjusted the rearview mirror. “I guessed correctly, didn’t I?”
“Maybe. Or maybe you were playing PI in the apartment across the street, spying with a telescopic lens.”
“I don’t have to play PI, I am one.” He started the ignition and turned off the radio. “And I also have a life. Which way?”
“We’re going to Forest Hill. You know how to get to that neighborhood?”
Apparently he did, because he turned the car in the appropriate direction. I spent the first half of the drive giving him what little information I had. He listened, only interrupting occasionally to ask a question that I inevitably didn’t have an answer to. When I finished, the conversation lulled and I focused on the cars and street lamps we sped past. I hated to admit it to myself but I was pleased that he had insisted on driving. I consider myself to be a pretty independent person
