The Alibi

Her arm dropped listlessly over the side of the table. Hammond took the flute from her hand before she dropped it and shattered it on the marble floor. “I’m sorry about Lute, Davee. That’s why I came, to let you know that I think what happened is terrible. I’m sure my parents will call or come over to see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, there’ll be a parade of sympathizers marching through here tomorrow. I refused to receive anyone today, but tomorrow I won’t be able to fend them off. Bringing their chicken casseroles and lime gelatin salads, they’ll crowd in here to see how I’m taking it.”

“How are you taking it?”

Noticing the subtle change in his tone, she rolled to her side, pulled the sheet against her front, and sat up, swinging her bare legs over the edge of the table. “Are you asking as my friend, or as the heir apparent to the D.A.’s office?”

“I could argue that point, but I’m here as your friend. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “Well, don’t expect sackcloth and ashes, or hair shirts. None of that Bible stuff. I’m not going to cut off a finger or anything like the Indian widows in the movies do. No, I’ll behave appropriately. Thanks to Lute, the gossips will have enough to keep them in material without me showing how I really feel.”

“And how’s that?”

She smiled as brilliantly as she had the night she took her bow at her debutante ball. “I’m positively delighted that the son of a bitch is dead.” Her honey-colored eyes challenged Hammond to say something to that. When he didn’t, she just laughed and then addressed the masseur over her shoulder. “Sandro, be a love and do my neck and shoulders, please.”

From the time she sat up, he had been standing against the mirrored wall with his arms folded over his meaty chest. Sandro was handsome and heavily muscled. Straight black hair was combed away from his face and held there with thick gel. His eyes were as dark as ripe olives.

As he moved in behind Davee and placed his hands on her bare shoulders, his intense, Mediterranean eyes stayed fixed on Hammond as though he were sizing up a competitor. Obviously his services extended beyond the massage. Hammond wanted to tell him to relax, that he and Davee were old friends, nothing more, and that he need not be jealous of him.

At the same time he wanted to warn Davee that now was not the time to flout convention by screwing her masseur. For once in her life she should exercise discretion. Unless Hammond missed his guess, and taking into account Steffi’s remarks, her name would top Rory Smilow’s list of suspects. Everything she did would be closely scrutinized.

“I admire your candor, Davee, but—”

“Why lie? Did you like Lute?”

“Not at all,” he replied honestly and without hesitation. “He was a crook, a scoundrel, and a ruthless opportunist. He hurt people who would let him, and he used those he couldn’t hurt.”

“You’re equally candid, Hammond. Most people shared that sentiment. I’m not alone in despising him.”

“No, but you are his widow.”

“I am his widow,” she said wryly. “I am a lot of things. But one thing I am not is a hypocrite. I won’t grieve for the bastard.”

“Davee, if the wrong people heard you saying things like that, it could mean trouble for you.”

“Like Rory Smilow and that bitch he brought here with him last night?”

“Exactly.”

“That Steffi person works with you, right?” When he nodded, she said, “Well, I thought she was positively horrid.”

He smiled. “Few people like Steffi. She’s very ambitious. She rubs people the wrong way, but she doesn’t care. She’s not out to win any personality contests.”

“Good, because she would lose.”

“She’s really quite congenial once you get to know her.”

“I’ll pass.”

“You have to understand where she’s coming from.”

“Up North someplace.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t referring to a region, Davee. I meant her drive. She’s had some career disappointments. She overcompensates for those setbacks and comes on a little too strong sometimes.”

“If you don’t stop defending her, I’m liable to get grumpy.”

Placing one arm behind her head, she lifted her hair off her neck so Sandro would have easier access. It was a very provocative pose, exposing her underarm and part of her breast. Hammond figured she knew it was provocative, and wondered if she was deliberately trying to distract him.