LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      Huber studied her for a moment and then said, “By being friends with Steven Moretti, did you mean that you saw each other socially?”

      Jasmine laughed and replied, “I wouldn’t call it socially. You know, like, we didn’t exactly have deep, meaningful conversations, and there were no other people involved.” She laughed again and continued in her rapid speech, “We hardly talked at all. The truth is, Steven had an overactive sex drive, and when he wanted some extra fun, or if stressed out to the max, he called me and we’d get together. We always met during the day since I work at night.”

      She looked Huber straight in the eye when she added, “The fun was mutual; I never accepted any money.”

      “And this went on undetected for over two years?”

      “We were careful. That last time in April, his fiancée came home way sooner than expected.”

      After a pause Huber asked, “Did you ever hope that your relationship with Steven would develop into more?”

      “You mean, did I think he could, you know, like, become my boyfriend and maybe even consider marriage?”

      “Something to that effect.”

      Jasmine became grave and stated, “I don’t have a college education, but I’m not an idiot. Not in a million years would a man like Steven want to get serious with someone like me. Besides, I wouldn’t have wanted him! You know, like, he came across as a stud, had tons of money, dressed and talked the big shot, but underneath it all, he was nothing but a calculating jerk.”

      Huber said, “Thanks for being open with me.”

      Then she posed her final question, “Do you believe that Rachel is guilty of killing Steven Moretti?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “How can you be so sure? According to my information, you did not know her.”

      “True, I never met her until that damned Wednesday at the beginning of April, but I wish I could describe the face she made when walking in on us.”

      “Try.”

      “She had murder on her mind, is all I can say.”

      CHAPTER 9

      “Feel like a little trip to San Diego?” Huber asked her husband that evening.

      “What’s in San Diego?”

      “Enzo Moretti lives there. He’s Steven Moretti’s father.”

      “When did you want to go?”

      “I have tomorrow or Saturday in mind, and maybe stay overnight, depending on how things develop.”

      “I can’t. I’m teaching a writers’ workshop for a good part of the long weekend.”

      “Oh, that’s right; Memorial Day weekend is coming up. I forgot.”

      “As usual, you throw things that have nothing to do with your cases out the window!”

      “Point taken,” she admitted.

      He asked, “What did you have in mind when saying you may stay overnight depending on how things developed?”

      “What I meant is, talking with Enzo Moretti won’t take all day, but he may give me more leads.”

      “What makes you think that the victim’s father would want to see you at all?”

      “I’ve already talked with him on the phone. He said that he doubted he could help me, but that I should feel free to drop by Cucina di Enzo in Little Italy where he eats lunch every day.”

      “How do you do it?”

      “Do what?”

      “Getting the most unlikely people to agree to giving you an interview.”

      “I’ve had my share of rejections; I just never mention them.” And after a pause she said, “I guess I’ll drive to San Diego by myself. Andi was willing to cancel plans she’d made with her boyfriend, but I wouldn’t hear of it.”

      “So you didn’t even pick me as your first choice,” Peter said mockingly. “Did Andi tell you more about that boyfriend of hers?”

      “A little. His name is Bo and he owns a small construction company; just him and two or three employees. I would normally not inquire about a person’s age, but since she had mentioned that he reminded her of her daddy, I did. He is 37 and originally from South Carolina.”

      Peter stated, “That doesn’t make him as old as her father would be if alive, but still, 15 years is a big difference. The man must have a past.”

      “One would think so.”

      “I hope that doesn’t mean he carries lots of baggage. I’d like to meet him. Let’s have them over for dinner one day soon.”

      “I’ll suggest it next time I talk with Andi,” she replied.

      CHAPTER 10

      Antoinette LeJeune, known to her friends as Andi, had been content with her life before Bo stepped into it. She was born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, where Daddy owned a small bar in the French Quarter. Momma died giving birth to her, so Daddy brought her up on his own. Her childhood had been happy, with Daddy teaching her how to play the fiddle, dance the Cajun Waltz, fish, ride the Harley, load, shoot, and take care of a gun. He had also instructed her in cooking Cajun meals, such as gumbo and jambalaya.

      A mere high school senior when Daddy died of liver disease, Andi waited until after graduation before selling his bar and estate, and then rode west to California on her Harley-Davidson. There had also been life insurance and some savings, and Daddy had regularly paid into her college fund. Her inheritance and occasional sleuthing jobs she helped R. A. Huber with enabled Andi to stay afloat.

      At the moment, she sat in a lecture hall at UCLA, trying to pay attention to a psychology lecture. Clad in her typical outfit of jeans, black leather jacket, and cowboy boots, she straightened up, tossed her wavy, auburn hair over her shoulders, and focused mischievous green eyes on the lecturer. It was no use. As the professor introduced the class to the theories of Sigmund Freud, her mind wandered and she thought back to that first encounter with Mrs. Huber.

      She had been in the Pasadena neighborhood and saw the shingle, R. A. Huber, Private Detective, in front of an office. On a whim, she had gone inside and asked Mrs. Huber for work which had led to her first job at Optimum House a few months later. That was four years ago when she’d been a kid of 18. Meanwhile, she had earned her associate degree of art from Pasadena City College and now worked toward her bachelor ’s at UCLA. In those four years, Mrs. Huber had taught her a lot about the sleuthing business; she felt proud and tickled pink to be part of it.

      One of her boss’s favorite pieces of advice popped into her mind: “It is important to keep body and mind agile in our line of work.” Mrs. Huber sure practiced what she preached by working out in the gym on a regular basis and stimulating her brain with Chess, Go, Sudoku, and the like. Andi was aware that each additional job her boss included her in brought new life experiences. It also exposed her to unforeseen dangers, which accounted for a good part of her attraction to the job. The young woman not only admired and held Huber as her mentor but had grown fond of her.

      The professor ’s long-winded words briefly reached her ears “… values and evolutionary basis of unconscious processing …” before she returned to her musing. Yes, life had been good before Bo, but now it has turned out even better! He amounted to everything she valued in a man; he was smart, courageous, strong, humorous, caring, and a Southerner riding a Harley to boot. That he also was tall with rugged good looks, sandy hair, and penetrating gray eyes was the icing on the cake. Andi believed that for the first time in her life she had found true love.

      They had so much fun getting to know each other while riding their bikes on back roads,

Скачать книгу