I hung up in the middle of Van Allsburg shouting that he could hear me fine.
Then I called Agent Page and told him to put me on hold until we knew if Mary Smith had a new victim.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 59
SUZIE CARTOULIS WASN'T PAYING much attention to the real world as she backed out of the driveway that morning. Her thoughts were on an unfinished pool cabana in the backyard of the house in Pacific Palisades, and the blankety-blank contractor who wasn't returning any of her phone calls, who never returned her calls, only her husband's. Two 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 11- nally 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.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 60
To: agriner@latimes.com 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, should have made more time in your life for Zachary, Coulda Shoulda.
Then I followed you to the hotel in west Hollywood. At first I didn't know why you went there, but I figured out pretty quickly that you weren't going to die alone. That delicious- looking blond man you met - you two were perfect for each other. Central casting all the way. I could tell just by looking that he's the kind of somebody you are. Am I right? He went to the Olympics, after all. He's an exec at your network. Another fast-tracker. And now you have another thing in common. You're both dead somebodies. Killed by a nobody you couldn't even see when you looked right at her.
I gave you two some quality time before I came up there for you. Enough time to feel safe in your little cocoon of deceit. Maybe even enough to do what you had in mind for your sneaky little rendezvous. Then, when I came in, I saw him first. That was a bit of good luck. Know why? I wanted you to see him die. It put the fear of God on your face before I shot you- and then I got to cut that fear away, one piece at a time, until you weren't afraid anymore.
You weren't anything anymore.
You were nothing, Suzie Cartoulis.
Just like me.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 61
I WAS STILL ON THE ROAD when word came about Mary smith's latest - a triple homicide this time, the killer's deadliest strike to date, at least as far as we knew for certain. I was still chasing down leads on the triple homicide in New York, but progress was slow, and suddenly I was off to another crime scene.
Susan Cartoulis, a prizewinning newscaster, had been found dead, along with her lover, in a room at the Ramada Plaza Suites in West Hollywood.
The dead man was Brian Conver, a sports producer at the same network where ms.
Cartoulis worked. A second woman, Mariah Alexander, a college student who attended southern cal, had also been liked. What was that all about?
I asked agent page to read Mary smith's latest e-mail message over the phone while I drove. The text made clear that the newswoman had been the primary target. Mr. Conver was never mentioned by name, and there was no reference whatsoever to any Mariah Alexander.
“What do we know about Susan Cartoulis?” I asked Page.
“Does she fit the MO?”
“Basically, yeah. She fits right into the puzzle. Married with one son, good-looking woman, high profile in the city She was a ten-o'clock anchor for a local affiliate. Also the honorary chair of the Cedars-Sinai pediatric burn unit capital campaign. Nine-year-old son. Another perfect mom.”