CHAPTER 30

The photographs I’ve seen of Tara Holland don’t do her justice. She’s a ravishing young woman with light chocolate skin and smoldering eyes. We’re seated now in her hotel room at the Meridian in Ko Olina, each on a plush chair in a well-appointed room, the curtains open, allowing in the worst of the midday sun. But if Erin has told Tara everything that has transpired between the two of us—and I’m willing to bet she has—then I can’t do something as simple as close the drapes or remove my suit jacket, or else Tara may think I’m putting on the moves. And under just about any other circumstances, she’d be right.

“Tell me how you met Trevor,” I say.

“I didn’t,” she says. “Well, at least not in the beginning. In the beginning Erin and I met Isaac and Gabe.”

“Where was that?”

“At some nightclub—I think it was called Sorbet—in San Francisco.”

“Like the dessert?”

She nods. “It’s shut down now. I mean, you know how long nightclubs last in the city. This was about, say, two and a half years ago.”

“So the four of you hooked up?”

“Nah, it wasn’t like that. Isaac, he came up to Erin, started dancing with her. Then when Erin and I sat down—you know, Sorbet was kind of a nightclub-slash-lounge, pretty exclusive. Anyway, Isaac came over with his friend Gabe and they brought drinks. Isaac was driving hard to the hoop for Erin, but Gabe, even then he was engaged. So Gabe just played wingman and we let Erin and Isaac get a bit cozy.”

“And after that?”

“They went on a few dates. Gabe and I joined them on the first one or two, until they felt comfortable with each other. Then they started flying solo—baby got wings—and that was that.”

“Until Trevor came along.”

Tara bows her head once. “Until Trevor came along.”

“Let me ask you something a little strange,” I say, leaning forward as though the walls have ears. “Isaac, I met him in Waikiki yesterday. He’s a good-looking guy.”

Tara smiles. “I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that.”

I grin, nod my head slightly. “Well, let’s you and me keep that between the two of us.” I shift in my seat as I change direction. “I also saw plenty of pictures of Trevor.” I don’t mention that I saw him in the flesh at Kanaloa’s on the night of the fire. “So, my question is…”

I’m hoping she’ll finish the question for me, just come out with an answer so that I can escape this verbal dance. But she just looks at me. Don’t women see it? Or is it just us men? Is there not an aesthetic hierarchy? Some sort of unwritten law that prevents women from trading down in the looks department, same as men?

“So my question is, what did Erin see in Trevor that she didn’t see in Isaac?”

This time Tara doesn’t hesitate. “Money.” She smiles. “I realize that sounds harsh. I mean, Isaac, he’s loaded. But Trevor was on another level. He was being groomed by his father to take on the family business.”

“Which is?”

“SimmsWare. You probably heard of it; it’s a big software company in Silicon Valley.”

“Sims like the computer game? The role-playing game?”

Tara shakes her head and laughs. “No, it’s nothing like that. But SimmsWare does play a large role in the gaming industry.”

“So, money?” I say, lightheartedly. “That’s how you ladies choose your men?”

“Not me,” she says defensively. “But, yeah, I suppose lots of girls are attracted to that.”

“And Erin’s one of them?”

“Sure. What do you think we were doing at a club like Sorbet to begin with?”

Tara’s beginning to get comfortable. She’s speaking to me naturally as she would to a friend. This is how she’ll need to speak to me when she’s on the witness stand. Though we clearly have a lot to work on in the way of substance.

“Okay,” I say. “So Isaac is rich, but Trevor is filthy rich, so Trevor gets the girl.”

“Was,” she says.

“Was what?”

“Was filthy rich. I mean, in the past tense.”

“Well, of course,” I say, “now that he’s dead—”

“No,” Tara says, crossing her legs. “I mean, even before he died he was no longer filthy rich. His father cut him off.”

“Cut him off?”

“That’s the irony, see? Isaac picks up Erin, Erin dumps him for Trevor because Trevor’s father is Daddy Warbucks, but then Trevor’s father cuts him off for—guess what?—proposing to Erin.”

I follow, but I don’t want to disrupt the flow, so I tell her, “I don’t follow.”

Tara frowns. “Well, as you probably know by now, Erin isn’t exactly what you’d call…” She searches the room for the right word. “Well, sane.”

“Sane,” I say.

“Again,” she says, “I realize that sounds harsh, but you know, the girl’s got troubles. It’s not her fault.”

“It’s her mother’s,” I say, almost to myself.

Tara places an index finger on her nose but keeps silent.

“So that,” Tara says, “coupled with the fact that Erin doesn’t exactly come from money, made her a poor choice—no pun intended—for marriage into the Simms family.”

“All right. So Trevor’s father cuts him off as soon as Trevor proposes to Erin. But she sticks with him?”

“She stuck,” Tara says. “But she didn’t realize what she was sticking to for about the next ten months.”

“Trevor went from filthy rich to dirt poor and Erin didn’t realize it?”

“Trevor hid it pretty damn well,” she says. “I mean, from what I heard, he liquidated everything in his name and then started his own business. Never lost a step.”

“Then how did Erin eventually find out?”

She slides a silver charm up and down the silver chain around her neck. “Yours truly,” she finally says.

“And how did you find out?”

“Who else? Isaac.”

“Isaac blabbed to you.”

“Yup.”

“Knowing it would get back to Erin.”

“Isaac knows there are no secrets between me and Erin.”

I flush a little from the look she gives me following that statement. “And Mia?” I say. “How does Mia fit into all of this?”

“Mia just likes to sleep around.”

I give her a doubtful look and she backpedals. “I mean, sure Mia had a thing for Trevor, probably all along. But she played it cool—you know, went out with all of us, fucked other guys. But there was always something there. Both ways, I think.”

“And then one of them finally acted upon it,” I say.

“That would be Mia. She was the one who asked Trevor to take her out on his boat on a day she knew Erin couldn’t be there.”

“Who told you that?”

Tara stalls. “Mia.”

“Here in Hawaii, on the day of the wedding?” I ask.

Tara shakes her head and all of a sudden her eyes are wet. “No. Mia told me a few days after it happened.”

“But you didn’t tell Erin.”

“No.” She reaches for a tissue in the box on the table and dabs her eyes.

“Thought there were no secrets between you and Erin,” I say.

She shrugs. “I figured it could only hurt her, you know. Nothing good could come of it. She wanted to marry Trevor and that was it. And I knew it was Mia who initiated shit with Trevor; she told me so. So I figured Trevor wouldn’t do it again. I mean, Mia seduced him. What’s that called in the law? You know, it was like entrapment.”

Not exactly, but okay, close enough that I can see her logic. “And then here in Ko Olina on the wedding day, it all came to a head,” I say. “Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“Why do I think Mia finally told Erin that she slept with Trevor?” I shrug. “How should I know?”

“Someone suggested Mia tell Erin,” she says, “and I can assure you it wasn’t me. So who do you think it was, Mr. Corvelli?”

“Kevin,” I say. “Call me Kevin.”

“All right. Who do you think it was convinced Mia to tell Erin she’d fucked Trevor when Erin was already done up in her wedding dress?”

Someone in the wedding party who didn’t want the marriage to move forward. “Isaac,” I say.

“Now you’re the Batman.”