Guilt By Degrees

Epilogue

I felt fairly certain that when Chase woke up and learned that Lilah had put out a hit on him-and I’d make sure he did-we’d have an important source of information on her. Not only where to find her but also her involvement as the mastermind of the murders of Simon and Gary. I’d find her eventually. And when I did, I’d make sure she was locked up for life.

For now, Bailey and I found some consolation in the fact that we’d caught the actual killer responsible for Gary’s and Simon’s murder, and thanks to the efforts of the fine doctors at Harbor General, Chase Erling would get to live for quite some time. Long enough to serve at least one of his multiple life sentences.

I’d asked the Bayers if they’d mind donating the bowl and serving tray Simon left behind in his studio to Johnnie Jasper. They’d been happy to do it, and they’d enclosed a beautiful, loving note to Johnnie, thanking him for the kindness he’d shown to Simon. We braved Johnnie’s wrath and delivered the items, including his vase, personally. I called out to him, and when he emerged, I placed everything just outside the fence. He waited until I got back in the car, but I saw him open the gate before we pulled away.

Toni told us we owed her dinner-why, she didn’t say. But we’d been meaning to check out Rivera, a Nueva Mexicana restaurant downtown that was supposed to be the bomb, so I got us reservations. Whatever Toni thought we owed her, I figured that would settle the score.

She was resplendent in a leopard-print dress, and Bailey looked hot as usual, in her Calvin Klein sweater and slacks. We ordered our Ketel One martinis and toasted to “Girls’ night.”

“So give it up, Tone,” I said. “Why do we owe you?”

Toni gave us a sly smile. “Remember I told you if we wanted to shut Hemet down, we needed to get dirt on him?”

“Yeah.”

“I got to thinking,” she said. “Who has the eyes and ears closest to management?”

“The secretaries,” I said.

“And Hemet’s secretary, Rosa, has been a friend of mine since I was a baby DA,” Toni said. “She’s about fifteen months pregnant, and she’s not real interested in coming back after her maternity leave-”

“So she was willing to talk,” Bailey surmised.

“You are good, Detective,” Toni said. “We were looking over a Ross-Simons catalog when Hemet called in and told her to sign him out at five p.m.”

“So?” I asked, puzzled.

“It was one thirty p.m.,” Toni said. “And he was not in the office.”

“He has her fake his time cards?” I said with disbelief.

She nodded emphatically. “Like crazy. When I see this go down, I ask her, does he do it all the time? She says, this was nothing. Last month, he went to Maui and called in to tell her to sign him in and out every day for a whole friggin’ week!”

The man who was dogging me about playing hooky on company time was falsifying his own time cards.

“But how would you ever prove it?” I asked.

“Well, we have Rosa’s word for it,” Toni said. “But girlfriend did a smart thing. She told him she was thinking of going to Maui and asked him to send her pictures. Hemet, the dumb shit, never dreamed his little secretary would dump him out, so he sent ’em to her-”

“On her cell phone, which shows time and date,” I said.

Toni nodded and chuckled.

“Is he in any of them?” Bailey asked.

“Huh, try all of them!” she replied. “The man should not wear shorts!”

We covered our mouths and tried to laugh without snorting.

Toni continued, “I told her what Hemet was doing to you and that I wanted to confront him with the dirt myself, but Rosa wouldn’t let me. Said she’d been waiting for years to get the chance to mess him up. So when she heard about you, she wanted to do it for you too. And, like I said, she doesn’t care about keeping the job anymore-”

“So she went out with a bang,” I said. “And I assume that’s what made Hemet pull out of the news story?”

“Unless he wanted to be the featured player,” Toni said. “He’s got connects, so he won’t get fired. But I’d guess he’ll be put out to pasture in a land far, far away, where the only career he can ruin is his own.”

“It’s better this way,” I reflected. “If he’s fired, he has to find a new life. This way, he stays, but he’s invisible-”

“And powerless,” Toni added. “But here’s the kicker: with Hemet gone, Averill’s days downtown are numbered. He can kiss his dreams of the big time good-bye. Ten bucks says he’s out in Newhall by Easter.”

“No bet, Tone,” I said. “But I’ll drink to that.” I started to lift my glass, but it was empty.

“Mine too,” she said.

Bailey nodded. I raised my hand to get our waiter’s attention.

He spotted it from across the room and made a circling gesture, asking if we wanted another round. I gave him a thumbs-up. When he returned with a tray of drinks, he pointed to a table at the other end of the dining room. “The gentleman over there is buying this round.”

Detective Stoner lifted his glass and smiled. We joined him and mouthed, Thank you.

It was a great night. And as I got into bed, I remembered a saying I’d heard: If you wait long enough, all your enemies will be vanquished. Hemet’s-and Averill’s impending-demise might just be proof that it’s true.

Sometimes, I can be very patient.

The next day, Bailey moved back to her apartment.

She looked around the hotel room one last time and sighed. “I guess all good things have to come to an end eventually.”

“I’ll miss you too,” I said.

“I was talking about room service.”

“Get out.”

Having the room to myself again gave me a lot of time to think. Along with the new hope of finding Romy-a hope I could barely let myself touch-was the sadness of Gary’s loss and a profound loneliness. I was glad to get back to work Monday morning. I buried myself in the double homicide that was set to go in two weeks, and before I knew it, the office lights in the surrounding buildings were glowing warmly against an ebony sky.

Time to pack it in. I slipped into my coat, grabbed my purse and briefcase, and headed out through the now-quiet hallways. I crossed the lobby and stepped outside into the chill night air.

“Rachel.”

I stopped. My heart gave a slow, heavy thud. I knew that voice. I turned to see Graden standing behind me. He walked over, looked down at me, and brushed my hair from my face.

“We should probably talk,” I said.

“Later.” He folded me into his arms. And I exhaled in a way I hadn’t done in a very long time.

Acknowledgments

Once again, I am forever indebted to Catherine LePard-whose brilliance, talent, and support are the inspiration and mainstay of my life. Cathy, I might never have attempted to live the dream of writing novels if it weren’t for you.

Dan Conaway, how on earth did I get lucky enough to have you for an agent? You’re not just phenomenal at the job, you’re a gem of a person. It’s a delight to know you and to work with you. And fantastic assistant Stephen Barr, you are such a pleasure. What a team! I couldn’t love you more.

I again owe boundless thanks to wonderful editor in chief Judy Clain and publisher Michael Pietsch. Terrific people who are also terrifically talented-a rare combination. I’m incredibly fortunate and honored to be working with you. To marvelous assistant Nathan Rostron, thank you once again for all your hard work behind the scenes. And to senior copyeditor Karen Landry-another great job. Thank you.

My profound thanks to all of the wonderful folks at Mulholland Books, and especially the publicity all-star team: Nicole Dewey, Sabrina Callahan, Miriam Parker-aka my buds. Your smarts, energy, creativity, and sheer resourcefulness are phenomenal…and you couldn’t be more fun! A million thanks to you for all your hard work.

To Marillyn Holmes, I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for your help. Your keen eye and knowledge were indispensable. My love and endless thanks to you.

To Lynn Reed Baragona and Hynndie Wali, who helped keep me sane through the writing of this book. You set the gold standard for girlfriends, and somehow always know how to talk me down off the ledge and how to make me laugh through my mishigas. I love you guys!