V is for Vengeance (Kinsey Millhone 22)
Page 42
Sabrina Striker’s face was long. Her nose was narrow through the bridge and wider at the tip, which made the whole of it seem larger than it was. She kept her dark hair tucked behind her ears, which caused them to protrude. She wore no makeup and needed a better haircut. Perhaps because of the flaws in evidence, she seemed appealing, someone nice and unpretentious.
I took my time washing my hands. It’s been my experience that women in ladies’ rooms will tell you anything, given half a chance. This seemed as good a time as any to test the theory. I caught her eye in the mirror. “Are you Sabrina?”
She smiled, exposing a rim of gum above her upper teeth. “That’s right.”
I turned off the water and pulled a fold of paper toweling from the stack. I dried my hands, tossed the towel in the trash, and then offered my hand. “I’m Kinsey.”
We shook hands as she said, “I figured as much. I saw your name in the book on my way in here. You’re with that older gentleman who’s talking to my dad.”
“William’s my neighbor,” I said and left it at that. I leaned toward the mirror and brushed at one eyebrow as though smoothing the arch. I could see my mop was in need of a whack and I was sorry I hadn’t tucked my trusty nail scissors in my shoulder bag. I usually carry them with me in the event of a styling emergency.
She said, “So, were you Audrey’s friend or was he?”
“More him than me. I actually only saw her once. He was the one who suggested we attend the visitation,” I said, deftly avoiding the truth. “I believe the paper said she was engaged to your dad.”
Sabrina made a face. “Unfortunately. We had no idea he was that serious about her.”
“Was there a problem?”
She hesitated. “Are you telling the truth when you say you weren’t Audrey’s friend?”
“Not a friend at all. Cross my heart.” I made a quick X on my chest by way of confirmation.
“Because I don’t want to say anything out of line.”
“Trust me. I’m on your team.”
“Basically, what happened was my mother died last May. My parents were college sweethearts, married forty-two years. Daddy met Audrey in a bar four months after mother passed away. Next thing you know she was moving in with him.”
“Tacky of her.”
“Exactly.”
“I take it you objected.”
“I tried keeping my opinion to myself, but I’m sure he knew how I felt. I found it offensive. My sister, Delaney, thought she was a gold digger, but I disagreed. Audrey was never short of money so I had a hard time believing she was after his. She was good to him. I’ll give her that.” She reached over and turned on the water, extinguishing her cigarette before she tossed it in the trash. “Of course, she was a slut.”
“In her age bracket, I thought they were called something else, but I can’t imagine what,” I said.
“A conniving old slut.”
“You think she had an ulterior motive?”
“There was something going on with her. I mean, Daddy’s adorable, but she’s hardly his type.”
“How so?”
“He’s always been a bit of a stick-in-the-mud. Even my mother complained at times. He’s a homebody. He doesn’t like to go out at night. Audrey was a live wire, always on the go. Where was the common ground?”
My shrug was noncommittal. “Maybe they fell in love. He must have been lonely with your mother gone. Most men don’t do well on their own, especially if they’ve been happily married.”
“Agreed. And of course now he’s done a complete turnaround . . . Mr. Gadabout. I figured far be it from me to interfere with his so-called love life. Delaney and I minimized our contact with Audrey. It was the best we could do. The times we saw her, we made a point of being polite. I’m not sure we succeeded, but it wasn’t for lack of effort on our part. Whatever doubts I had, I kept to myself, not that anyone gave me credit. They assumed I was jealous, like I wouldn’t have warmed to any woman who took up with him, but that’s just not true.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Their bar buddies. After the service, I’m sure the lot of them will come rallying around and insist on taking him out for drinks. As nearly as I could tell, drinking was all he and Audrey ever did. I’m not saying he’s over the line or anything like that. She’s the one. Party, party, party. Luckily, she traveled a lot on business so she was gone half the time. Would you call that a healthy relationship? Because I don’t.”