Back at the station, I sat in the control room watching Kitt on the monitor. His eyes were dark and deep and he was cool as a cucumber. He had agreed to sign my release because he said I was too cute to say no to. I found myself giggling like an idiot every time he spoke to me. I guess I was really hard up for companionship.
As I watched the interview take place, it occurred to me that so far, no one seemed to care that Chaser was dead. His mother didn’t care, his girlfriend merely faked some emotions, and now Kitt was acting like he had just heard that the mail didn’t come. I wondered if any of them already knew he was dead when we got to them, or if they thought their nonchalance would make them seem less guilty. I had been listening to Reid and Foxy interrogate Kitt for half an hour, and so far they didn’t have much of anything.
Kitt had admitted to knowing Chaser and said they occasionally raced cars together. He didn’t know where he was tonight and hadn’t heard from him in a few days. Kitt said that Rose had told him that Chaser was dead earlier, and that was why he didn’t give the big reaction we were hoping for when he heard the news. He also said Rose had a flair for the dramatic and he was used to not reacting to things she said.
“Have you ever had sexual encounters with Rose?” Foxy asked.
Kitt’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Me and half this town.”
Manny, who was sitting next to me, perked up. “That gives me hope.”
“Did you have sexual relations while Rose and Chaser were dating?” Foxy asked.
“No. I don’t poach whores – you follow?” Kitt answered. “Look, it’s late and I don’t want to be here anymore. I’ve answered your questions, now let’s end this.”
Mac turned to me. “I’m with him. I don’t want to be here anymore either.”
“Just think about your overtime and be quiet,” I whispered.
Mac paused for a moment and then smiled as he computed the numbers in his head.
Inside the interview room, Reid and Foxy stood up. They told Kitt that they would like to contact him if they had any more questions, and he agreed. Foxy handed him his card and told him to call him if he thought of anything that could help the case.
A few moments later, Reid, Foxy and Kitt were all walking out of the interrogation room. Mac, Manny and I came out of the booth to videotape Kitt’s departure. Kitt shook the hands of the detectives, then pointed a finger at me. “Catch you later, baby.” He turned and walked out.
Reid looked me up and down – examining my blazer and pants. “I’m not exactly seeing the appeal here.”
“It’s obviously the stuff under these clothes that he’s interested in,” I told him, gripping my blazer.
“Oh, I see. And you like that, right? A murder suspect thinking you’re hot?”
I shrugged, not sure what to say.
“All right, I’ve had enough fun for one night. I’m going home,” Foxy said.
“I’ll second that,” I said. It was four in the morning now, and we were all exhausted.
Reid looked at me. “See you back here at nine?”
I felt anger rising in me, but I knew this was part of the job. I had to have a positive attitude in front of my crew. “I’ll be here.” I turned to the crew. “I need to give you guys ten hours between shifts so be back here at two tomorrow. I’ll cover with the PD-150.”
Mac looked at me and then Manny. “We’ll compromise and be back at twelve – okay?”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
My car was still parked at the production office, so Mac and Manny drove me home. It was 4:07 and I spent the ten minute drive calculating the number of hours I was going to be able to sleep. It wasn’t looking good for me.
I walked up the flight of stairs to my apartment only to find my sister sleeping on the floor in front of my door. She was in one of those jumpsuits with the velour pants and matching hoodie. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that getup, but she managed to pull it off.
Ginny was twenty-seven and even though she was only a few years younger than me, it seemed like a decade. I remembered myself being more mature at her age, but I guess when you’re the baby of the family, it’s hard to give up that role. She had fair skin and fair hair and loved to prance around in sundresses and ballet flats. She’d sometimes pin a flower in her hair and her makeup was always perfect – just like my TV star mother. Ginny was getting married in a little over a week and she was a total basket case. Every time we got together, she’d tell me how she was stressed about this and that and then she’d obsess over stupid details for hours. I’d typically get in three words and they tended to be something like “Shut up already!” Still, I was the maid of honor, so I’d have to be nice for one more week. I nudged her and she jumped.
“Huh!” she exclaimed.
“Ginny, it’s four in the morning, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Well I didn’t get here at four. Where were you?”
“I was working,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m doing a new show .”
“Well, anyway, I had to come,” she said.
I sighed dramatically. “Can we talk another time? I’m tired and I don’t want to hear about your problems.” I pushed past her and put the key in the door. Ginny stood up and followed me inside.
“Who am I supposed to talk to?” Ginny whined. “I can’t talk to mom about this stuff.”
“I don’t know, Sarah, Kimmy, Theresa – any of your friends. They would be happy to hear this crap.”
“You’re the maid of honor and you have to listen. It’s part of the job,” she countered.
“Then I quit.” I threw my purse on the counter and walked over to the fridge. My kitchen was in a little nook in the front of the apartment. The cabinets and fridge were lined up against the front and side walls and there was a little island that separated the kitchen area from the living room. There were two bar stools on the living room side of the countertop. Ginny took a seat on one.
“I have an offering,” she said, pulling a bottle of wine out of a paper bag.
I sighed. Actually a glass of wine sounded pretty good. “How’d you get this past Bob?” I grabbed a corkscrew and opened the bottle. Bob was Ginny’s fiancé and if drinking were a competitive sport, he would be in the All-Stars. He wasn’t an alcoholic, he was just very efficient and would typically drain a glass of wine or beer in one sip.
She wouldn’t admit it, but Ginny was marrying Bob because he was a successful and financially solvent entertainment lawyer with a promising future. In short – she liked his money. He was older than her at thirty-seven, he was balding and in my opinion, quite unattractive. I sometimes wondered if he even knew what a hairbrush was, but he was nice enough to my sister. Plus, he was moving her out of my parents’ house, which was a blessing for all of us.
I picked up my phone and checked to see if I had any messages. There was only one, and it was from my mother.
“Honey, I met the most amazing man today. He was the assistant director on a shoot I was working on and I told him all about you. He’s thirty-five, divorced, but a real cutie. His number is 818…”
I deleted the message before my mother could get out the rest of the phone number. She was forever trying to set me up with strange men and it was a little embarrassing. Half of Hollywood knew that Evelyn Sharpe had a lonely, desperate, thirty-year-old daughter in need of a man.
“Who was that?” Ginny asked.
“Mom. She’s trying to fix me up with an assistant director. I’ll bet you anything he’s the director’s assistant. She’s always matching me with losers.”
“Did she give this loser your number?” Ginny asked.
“No. Luckily I put a stop to that. Now she gives me their numbers – but I never call.”
We moved out to the balcony and sat on plastic lawn chairs, sipping our wine out of paper cups. My dishwasher was on the fritz and my landlord was lazy, so I was all about disposable cups and plates these days. In the courtyard below, a couple was sitting intimately in the Jacuzzi, ta
lking.
“Vic, in your limited sexual experience…” Ginny began.
I glared at her. “You’re such an expert?”
“Sorry, that was rude. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d ever come across an after-sex weeper.”
“A what?”
“Sometimes after Bob and I…do it…he starts crying. I was just wondering if that ever happened to you.”
“Oh that’s so sweet,” I crooned.
“Really, you think so?”
“No, Gin, not really.”
“I’m not telling you so this you can make fun of me,” she pouted.
“Then we should probably change the subject.”
“So that’s never happened to you, right?”
“I’m usually doing the crying after sex,” I joked. “So Bob just starts crying for no reason?”
“There’s a reason. He finds sex to be a very emotional experience. It moves him to tears.”
“Maybe that’s not the reason. Maybe it’s something you’re doing wrong,” I teased.
“Shut up,” Ginny said.
I looked below and saw that two girls in bikinis were joining the couple in the hot tub. It was practically dawn and these girls were still partying. I always thought the idea of taking a bath with strangers was odd. I guessed the couple agreed with me because they promptly got up and stepped out.
Ginny sipped her drink and looked down at the bikini-clad girls. “Look at those two – not a care in the world. They’re not marrying a weeper – they have many more sexual experiences ahead of them.”
Ginny was a long-term dater and had only two boyfriends prior to Bob. Both relationships lasted longer than four years, and she was always whining that she would never be able to experience casual sex.
“Bob’s been with like thirteen women, you know,” she announced.
“Well they must have been either drunk, paid or blind.” I laughed at my joke but Ginny didn’t seem amused. Instead she just stared down at the bikini girls in the tub – jealous without even knowing them.
“So how’s this new job?” Ginny finally asked.
“Wow, Gin, you almost made it sound like you care,” I remarked. “It’s horrible. I’m following around a bunch of cops. One of them is okay but the other is a real pain in the ass.”
“Is he cute?” Ginny asked.
“Yeah,” I answered sarcastically. “I’ll sleep with him and give you all the details – maybe he’s a weeper too.”
“Sounds good.” Ginny smiled and took another swig of her drink.
Down below a few men had joined the girls in the hot tub and they were drooling while the two girls made out in front of them. I rolled my eyes. “Freakin’ LA.”
I kicked Ginny out the door ten minutes later, stripped off my pants and blazer, and collapsed in the bed. I didn’t even bother to put on my pajamas. Within minutes I was asleep.