Cory, Cory, Cory!
Her bedroom door was unlocked. He went in even though he wasn’t supposed to without permission. The sexy perfume she’d put on for Chaleen was sweet in the air, sickening sweet. It made him think of her and that bastard together in bed, Chaleen sweating and grunting on top of her, and he felt like gagging. He shoved the ugly images out of his mind.
What were they planning? He thought it might have something to do with Mrs. Vorhees, a way to stop her from testifying against him and sending him to prison, and he hoped that was it, but at the same time he was afraid of what it might be.
He moved around Cory’s room, the master bedroom. She’d always made a big deal out of him respecting her privacy, but he couldn’t stop himself from invading it now. He didn’t really believe there was anything here that’d give him an idea of what she and Chaleen were up to, but how did you know for sure unless you looked?
He opened the drawer in the nightstand next to the king-size bed, and the first thing he saw was a package of condoms she kept in there. Right away he slammed it shut again and went over to her vanity table. Those drawers were full of cosmetics, and the ones in the red Chinese dresser were stuffed with silky underwear in the bright colors she liked. The walk-in closet was packed, too: racks of expensive shoes, coats, suits, dresses-five times as many nice clothes as he owned. Different size cartons and boxes jammed the shelf above. What was in them?
He took one down, opened it. Fancy round cloth hat with a tiny brim. Nobody wore hats anymore, did they? He’d never seen Cory in this one or any other. He put it back, took down another carton. New cowhide boots that probably wouldn’t fit on the rack. He exchanged that carton for a smaller one with an Emporio Armani label on it. See-through nightgown. He put that away quickly, reached for a small, square box in one corner. Something hard wrapped in a cloth…
His breath sucked in when he saw what it was. New, too, brand new, and so small and cold he almost let go of it, the way you would a live thing that might suddenly bite. He stared at it, the fear and confusion in him growing.
“Kenny!”
He jumped at the sound of his name, swung around. She was standing in the bedroom doorway, her face clouded with fury. He’d been so focused on what he’d found he hadn’t heard her come into the apartment-she always walked quick and silent like a cat.
“Oh, God, Cory-”
Her expression darkened even more when she saw what he was holding. She came fast to where he was, snapped, “Give me that,” and snatched it out of his hand, then slapped him across the face, hard. “What do you think you’re doing in my bedroom, pawing through my possessions? You know how much I hate that.”
He fingered his stinging cheek. “I’m sorry, I just… I…”
“Now I’ll have to lock my bedroom door, too, when I go out so you won’t sneak around in here anymore.”
“Cory, why do you have a-”
“Never mind. It’s none of your concern. Forget about it, forget you ever saw it. You understand me, Kenny?”
“… Yes.”
“All right. Now get out of here. Go to your room and stay there.”
In his room, he lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling. His hands felt damp, clammy. His cheek still burned where she’d slapped him.
Forget about it, she’d said. But how could he?
A gun. Jesus, what was she doing with a gun?
9
JAKE RUNYON
It was a couple of minutes past seven on Wednesday evening when Runyon pulled up in front of Bryn’s brown-shingle house on Moraga in the outer Sunset. Lights glowed behind the front windows, which meant she and Bobby were home now. She never wasted electricity when the two of them were out. He scooped the shopping bag from the passenger seat, went up and rang the bell.
Bryn opened the door, evidently without checking through its peephole. She was smiling, but the smile dimmed when she saw Runyon. Expecting someone else, he thought, and her first words confirmed it.
“Jake. What are you doing here?”
“Dropping off Bobby’s birthday present.”
“Oh, you remembered. Well, he’ll be pleased.” Not her so much, though, he thought; the smile was almost gone now. “But you should have called first. You always have before.”
“I did call,” Runyon said, “around five-thirty. No answer. I thought you might have taken the boy out for an early dinner to celebrate.”
“No, we were at Safeway. Why didn’t you leave a message on my cell?”
“Didn’t think of it. Didn’t think you’d mind if I just dropped in.”
“I don’t, only…” She shook her head. “Never mind. Come in.”
Inside, in the hallway light, he saw that she wasn’t as casually dressed as she usually was when she intended to stay in. Starched white blouse, green patterned skirt, a cameo locket at her throat, and a gold bracelet on one wrist. Ash-blond hair neatly combed and decorated with a ribbon that matched her skirt. Lipstick, too, and a little eye makeup. The scarf covering the stroke-frozen left side of her face was the paisley one Bobby had picked out, in Runyon’s company, for her last birthday.
He said, “If you’re going out again, I won’t keep you.”
“We’re having dinner here. I’d invite you to stay, but… well, it’s not a good time.”
“Company coming?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Four-beat. “Robert.”
Runyon was silent.
“He called and asked if he could come,” Bryn said with a defensive note in her voice. “He has presents, too, and after all, he is the boy’s father.”
And the man who had divorced Bryn when she suffered her crippling and disfiguring stroke, the man who had used his attorney’s influence to take Bobby away from her and into the clutches of the unstable woman who’d been his mistress, the man she claimed to hate and had fought bitterly, with Runyon’s help, to regain custody.
He said only, “Sure.”
“Robert’s been nice to the boy, much kinder than when Bobby was living with him.” The defensiveness was more pronounced now. “It’s hard to believe, but he’s changed since Francine was murdered. Oh, he’s still arrogant, still the typical lawyer, but the nastiness and cruelty… they seem to be gone.”
“Showing signs of humanity.”
“Yes, exactly. And he truly loves Bobby, cares about his future.”
“Never much doubt of that.”
“So when we… So I didn’t see any reason not to invite him to stay for dinner.”
Runyon said, “No need to justify it to me.”
“I wasn’t justifying, I was simply stating a fact.”
“All right.”
“I’m not getting involved with him again, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
It wasn’t. “None of my business in any case.”
“No. I just wanted you to know.”
“All right.”
But she couldn’t seem to let it go. “Neither Robert nor I wants to get back together,” she said. Threads of defiance, now, in her voice. “I wouldn’t take him back if he got down on his knees and begged me. He hurt me too much, there’s been too much anger and bitterness between us. You know all that. We’ve talked about it often enough.”
“Yes.”
“He’ll be here pretty soon,” she said.
“Then I’d better leave.” Runyon extended the shopping bag. “You can give this to Bobby and wish him a happy birthday from me.”
Bryn hesitated. “No, he should have it from you. He’ll want to thank you personally. He’s in his room-I’ll fetch him.”