more days like this and she was going to fire the guy’s ass. Right after she set it on fire.
Another car, idling just past a neighbor’s cedar hedge, came into sight at the last second. Suzie braked hard to avoid hitting the jerk who was parked there. Her heart thudded. That certainly would have been an auspicious way to start her day, a fender bender ten feet from her driveway.
She gave a quick wave into the rearview mirror.
“Sorry!” My bad.
Then she put her silver Mercedes wagon in drive and started down the cul-de-sac toward Sunset. The other car pulled out as well and began to follow, but Suzie Cartoulis didn’t notice.
Her focus had shifted to the nine-year-old boy in the backseat. “Are you all right, Zach? I didn’t mean to stop so suddenly like that.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“All right. Just checking, sweetie. How about a little music? What do you want to hear?”
She tried not to be overbearing, but it was hard sometimes. Zachary was such a sensitive boy, and he didn’t react well to being ignored, either. Maybe if he had a little brother or sister, but that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Not now that Suzie had become the ten-o’clock anchor. She had finally gotten into the inner sanctum of recognizable faces in L.A.—no small feat for a former weathergirl from Tucson, thank you very much—and she wasn’t going to let another pregnancy slow her down right now. Especially since New York was apparently very interested in her as well.
As if on cue, the phone rang.
Caller ID showed her husband’s cell number, and she juggled the headset up to her ear.
“Hi. Where are you, honey?” She spoke through a frown she was glad Gio wasn’t there to see.
“Miami. I think we’re wrapping up. I have to shoot up to Palm Beach in a minute. Of course, there’s another hurricane on the horizon, so I want to vamoose out of here. We just need a few signatures, but it looks like the contract’s a go.”
“Great,” she said with hollow enthusiasm. She was supposed to know what project he was talking about, but they all blended together. Something about a shopping mall in southern Florida. Was that right? Was Vero Beach in south Florida? The Treasure Coast? This was their game; he spoke about his work as if she cared, and she pretended to.
“So I should be home tonight instead of Monday, which would be nice. Maybe play a little golf this week? Wiatt finally invited me to Riviera.”
“Mm-hm.”
“How’s the little dude?”
“He’s right here. Hang on.”
Suzie surrendered the phone to the backseat. “It’s Daddy. Be nice.”
She was already rearranging today’s schedule in her head. Get someone else to cover the mayor’s press conference on the ongoing murders. Have the housekeeper pick up Zach after tennis practice. Call Brian, see if he can get away; then call the Ramada and ask for an early check-in. Get laid properly once more before her all-business-all-of-the-time husband got back to town.
Make it an afternoon to remember.
Chapter 60
To: [email protected]
From: Mary Smith
To: Suzie Cartoulis:
People in Los Angeles watch you on television every day, reporting the news, acting like you really know what’s going on. That’s what you do so well. Acting, pretending, faking it with flair. But today will be a little different, Suze. Today you will be the news.
They’ll say that Suzie Cartoulis and her handsome, former-beach-volleyball-champ lover were found slain in a hotel room. That’s how you people talk, isn’t it? Slain? But no matter what they say on the news, no one will ever know just how you looked at me when I killed you. The incredible fear, the confusion, and what I took to be respect.
It was different this morning outside your fancy house in Pacific Palisades. You almost bumped into me with your highly polished silver Merc wagon, and you looked right through me. You did, Suze. Trust me on that. I remember these kinds of things.
Then, just like the others, you went on with your day like I wasn’t even there. I had a feeling today might be the last one for you. Then I was sure of it.
First I watched you say good-bye to your darling little boy for the last time. He probably can’t appreciate everything you do for him—all the sacrifices—but he’ll think about it later, when someone else has to take him to school or to practice the next time he goes. You’re right about one thing though, you should have made more time in your life for Zachary. Coulda, shoulda.