Lust, Loathing And A Little Lip Gloss. Kyra Davis
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he wouldn’t have been able to chain lock the door,” I pointed out.
“Well, that would be explainable, but the music…”
Her voice trailed off and Anatoly and I exchanged looks. Last I checked it was a lot easier to leave a stereo on than chain lock a door from the outside. But I didn’t really want to argue the point.
“Maria, I don’t know where Enrico is or why he has his music on,” I said slowly. “All he essentially told me was that he was having a bad day. His exact words were that he was being haunted, whatever that means. He said he was going to be late and then we kind of got into it.”
“You got in an argument? What could you two possibly argue about? You don’t even know one another.” Then her eyes widened in horror. “You didn’t insult his food, did you? Or did you praise another chef? Perhaps you said something nice about Wolfgang Puck. Enrico is very jealous of Wolfgang Puck.”
“Wolfgang never entered into our conversation. I was just a little flippant when he said he was being haunted.”
“Enrico doesn’t believe in ghosts,” Maria said firmly. “He comes to the Specter Society meetings because he finds them amusing…although now I suspect his reasons for coming have more to do with me than anything else.”
“I don’t know anything about any of that,” I said. I was beginning to lose patience with this line of questioning. She was uninvited and she was preventing Anatoly from ravaging me. “All I know is that he told me he was haunted, I made a joke about that and then he called me a fucking bitch and hung up on me.”
“What!” Maria gasped. “But he only uses such profanity for food critics and diet gurus!”
“Yeah, well, I’m neither,” I said drily.
Maria now looked even more agitated than she had when she walked through my door. She started wandering around the room, weaving in and out of boxes like a confused rat aimlessly exploring a maze. “Something is amiss.”
“It might be,” Anatoly agreed. “But it’s not our problem. Now if you’ll excuse us.”
Maria glanced down at the empty wineglasses on the box near where I had been standing and comprehension spread across her countenance. Unfortunately, the comprehension didn’t seem to be mixed with even the slightest bit of acquiescence. “If you’re right,” she said, directing her comments to Anatoly, “if Enrico isn’t answering the door because he specifically doesn’t want to talk to me, then I’m going to need another person to act as my decoy.”
“Forget it,” Anatoly and I said in unison.
“I’ll pay you,” she said quickly. “A hundred dollars. All you have to do is pick up the phone and call him.”
“And if he doesn’t answer?” Anatoly asked.
“I’ll pay you two hundred more to go over to the house and find out what’s going on.”
“Excuse me, but I’m about to invest in a million-dollar property. Three hundred dollars isn’t even enough to pay for the sales tax on my upcoming furniture-shopping spree. If you want a decoy you’re going to have to find someone who is a little more desperate.”
“Me for instance,” Anatoly said.
“You?” I squeaked. “But you already have more business than you can handle!”
“This is a one-night job, correct?” Anatoly asked.
“Yes,” Maria said uncertainly. “Do you do this kind of thing often?”
“I’m a P.I.”
“Like Magnum,” she exclaimed.
I rolled my eyes. “You just gave away your age.”
Maria flushed, but kept her focus on Anatoly. “This is perfect,” she continued. “You can call him and if he’s not available then sneak over, break in and—”
“No,” Anatoly said quickly. “I’m not going to break the law for you. But I will find out if he has a guest.”
“You can do that without breaking in?”
“Of course.” Anatoly smiled. “Magnum did it all the time.”
“You shouldn’t have come,” Anatoly mused as we followed Maria through the winding traffic.
Enrico hadn’t answered his phone, not even while Anatoly was leaving a message on his answering machine telling him that he believed someone was in the process of breaking into his restaurant. After that the three of us piled into two cars, Maria into her Mustang and Anatoly and I into my Audi, and we all went over to Enrico’s condo on Telegraph Hill. Since I had been the one doing all the drinking, I had given Anatoly the keys.
“I thought you wanted me to,” I lied. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the idea of sitting home alone, thinking about the sex I wasn’t having. At least this was distracting. “Besides, it’s not like we’re trying to hunt down the Zodiac Killer,” I noted. “Maria basically hired you to knock on a door and ask if anybody’s home. I don’t see how I could screw that up for you.”
I saw the flash of white teeth as he laughed in the darkness. “You’re underestimating yourself. I’m sure you could screw up anything if you put your mind to it.”
I groaned as he pulled into a spot located only one block away from our destination. “I really hate you, you know that?” I asked lightly.
“I hate you, too,” he whispered. He kissed me and I felt his rough hands gently but firmly pulling my hair back from my face. Anatoly had incredible hands. Watching him knead bread dough was the equivalent of watching a porn flick.
We walked to the condo and found Maria in her car blocking the complex’s garage. She rolled down her window just low enough so she could reach her arm out and shove a set of keys at us. “The silver one’s to the building, the gold one’s to the condo itself. Come down and let me know what he’s up to as soon as you can.”
“No,” Anatoly said simply.
“No?” Maria repeated. “No, what?”
“If you want us to go in there you’re going to have to open the door for us.”
“But that’s preposterous! You yourself suggested that the whole reason Enrico didn’t answer the door earlier is because he didn’t want to see me. If he knows I’m there what’s to keep him from hiding out again?”
“I didn’t say you had to call out to him. But you have to be there. I’m assuming that the reason you have these keys is that this was, until recently, your home. You can argue that you have a legal right to burst into this condo unannounced. Sophie and I can’t make that same claim, not unless we’re there with you, as your guests.”
Maria lowered the window farther and glared up at Anatoly. “No one is that paranoid! What’s the real reason you’re insisting I accompany you?”
“That is a real reason,” he said. A streetlight flickered above us as if struggling to stay awake. “Another real reason,” he went on, “is that I find your motives for hiring me questionable. You’re divorcing Enrico, so why are you so concerned with his well-being? Do you still have feelings for him or did you do something to him and now you want someone else to find him and clean up the mess…or even take the blame?”
“I came to you for help and now you’re accusing me of some kind of crime?” Maria shrieked. “I have never been so insulted! How dare you! You’re completely full of…” Maria shook her head violently, too angry to continue.
“I believe the word you’re looking for is chutzpah,” Anatoly said with a smirk. “Are you coming or should Sophie and I go home and leave you to stew in your Mustang?”
Maria let out