Kubiac awakened at seven. He drank a Red Bull and played a few games on the net before checking coding sites for new hacks. He’d started a game, but found himself too distracted by thoughts of his new friend and had called her.
“Uh, hello? Cat? You up?”
“Adam?” Catherine Maruyama had said. “Good morning. What a wonderful surprise. What you doing?”
“Gaming.”
“You like games, don’t you?”
A smile crossed Kubiac’s face. “I love games, Cat. You do too, don’t you?”
“I do, Adam. I wish I had more time to play them.”
“Wanna meet somewhere?” Kubiac asked, trying for nonchalance. “Like, uh Hashtag: hashbrowns?”
She’d laughed. “You mean breakfast? Cool!”
Zoe always slept until at least ten. He’d likely be back while she was still snoring.
Twenty-five minutes later they were at a small café down the street from Maruyama’s apartment, sitting in the new morning sun and nibbling at pastry. She ordered tea, and Adam opted for the same, clearly flustered when the waiter had offered several choices: Darjeeling, Earl Grey, Chamomile, Hibiscus …
“What do I want?” he asked Maruyama.
“Tell you what,” Maruyama said, “let’s both get Darjeeling. It’s a favorite.”
“Did you tell your girlfriend about me?” Maruyama said after their orders had arrived, studying Adam over a plate of French toast and sipping her Darjeeling. “I’d love to meet her. Zoe, right?”
Kubiac studied his fork. “Uh, yeah. Zoe.”
“Did you tell her about me?”
“I told Zoe I met someone who went to Meridien. But not that we were meeting now. Or, uh, yesterday. I mean like … it’s kinda hard to explain. Zoe’s possessive.”
Maruyama waved it away with a smile. “At least tell me about her. She must mean a lot to you.”
“She’s almost skinny, but not quite. Dark hair that puffs out. She has big eyes, brown. She’s real pretty. She likes shopping more than anything.”
Maruyama sighed. “I wish I was pretty.”
“You are, Cat. You’re cool, too. Hashtag: coolest.”
A gentle smile. “Was Zoe a patient of Dr Meridien?”
“No. Zoe’s, uh, more regular. She’s smart, though.” He paused. “Just not like us, upgrades.”
“I’ll bet she’s way smart and super extra pretty.”
Embarrassment colored Kubiac’s face. He smiled past it. “You’re talking a lot better today, Cat.”
Maruyama set down her tea and put her fingertips over Kubiac’s wrist. “I feel comfortable around you, Adam. Safe, because I know I can trust you. I’ll bet Zoe’s the same way. How long have you known her?”
Kubiac stared at the soft olive-colored hand touching his and swallowed hard. “Uh, just like two weeks, maybe a little more.”
Maruyama’s hands rose in surprise. “You talk like you’ve known her forever. How’d you meet?”
“I was at a coffee shop over on Washington and she sat down beside me. She wanted me to show her how to game. Now we live together.”
Maruyama clapped her hands. “Love at first sight.”
Kubiac pushed back a shock of dark hair to reveal a frown. “I dunno, not really love, I guess. More like we have a thing. She’s real, like, strong and is helping me through some things.” He blew out a breath. “I-uh d-didn’t tell you something. M-my f-father died about three weeks ago.”
“Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. He was a piece of shit like I said. I just didn’t tell you he died.”
“Then that’s what I’m sorry about, Adam. That your father was a bad person.”
Kubiac leaned closer to Maruyama. “You said your father called you a freak. Mine called me a freak, too. Real fathers don’t do that. He also said I was weak … like yours did.”
Maruyama pushed away her plate and lowered her voice. “Mine died, too, Adam. Two years ago. A vein exploded in his brain. He was a lawyer, an important one right here in Phoenix. My father was a very good lawyer but a very bad person. You want to know what he did in his will?”
“What?”
“Left me $250,000 …”
“That’s not so bad,” Kubiac grunted. “Mine left—”
“… and $5,500,000 to his girlfriend,” Maruyama completed. “Twenty-two times what I got.”
Kubiac stared, shook his head. “So you got screwed.”
A broken smile. “No, the girlfriend got screwed. About three times a day. That’s probably why his will gave most of his inheritance to her.”
“Jeez, it must have been awful to lose all that money, Cat.”
Maruyama watched a bus glide past with something in her eyes Kubiac had never seen. Anger?
“I didn’t lose the money,” she whispered like Adam wasn’t there. “I got every penny.”
“No way.”
“It was my money, Adam. Not that … bitch’s, pardon me for the word. That’s the only reason she was screwing Daddy.”
“How did you get the money?”
A flash of fear in Maruyama’s eyes; the look of someone who’s gone ten words too far. “I c-can’t say, Adam. I just realized I shouldn’t have told you that.” She looked away, then back. “I’m sorry, Adam. I lied. I didn’t get any more money. I was just saying it to make myself feel important.”
“You were telling me the truth. You got your money. I can tell.”
Maruyama stared at her hands, clutching the edge of the table. “I’m s-sorry, Adam. I wuh-was just wishful thinking. I didn’t get th-th-the money. I’m suh-sorry I m-m-misled you.”
Kubiac scooted his chair to sit beside Maruyama. “You did, you did, you DID. You need to tell me what you did to get all of your money, Cat. It’s important.”
Maruyama stood and grabbed her purse from the table. “I’m suh-sorry, Adam. I have to g-go.”
“Cat!”
But she was on her bike and moving away. Kubiac stared into his tea for ten minutes – horrible tasting stuff – then drove to Maruyama’s apartment. Either she wasn’t inside or not answering the door.
He went home, his mind a jumble of questions. Zoe was still in bed, snoring like a chainsaw. He tried to call Cat several more times, but all calls went to her voicemail.
“This is Cat Maruyama, please leave a message …”
* * *
The days in Phoenix always began with a pinkish cast to my small, neat bedroom, as if the air was slowly donning its daytime garb. Within minutes, a shimmering blue would be added, minutes later the color orange began lighting my white curtains. It always drew me from bed because I wanted to see the eastern sky, the glowing pastels sifting through wisps of purpled cloud.
I needed a bit of beauty before a day of facing horror.
Today had been no different and I had taken a run before returning to call Novarro. She had wanted to meet at HQ, to again stare at the photos and data and try to shake a sense of order from the disorder that lay in all directions.
When I arrived she was pinning a blown-up version of the last shot from Darnell Mashburn’s phone to the board centered by the headshot of Leslie Meridien and Bradford Shackleton. In the lower right-hand corner I’d tacked shots of Angela Bowers and Professor Warbley.
“When’d you get the blow-up?” I asked.
“Last night. Since we couldn’t have a steak dinner, I ate from the machine and pestered a night tech in forensics to enlarge and enhance the shot.”
“Ate from the machine?”
“The dispenser on the first floor. Cheese-and-crackers, pretzels, a glob of sugar and chemicals masquerading as a cookie. It wasn’t a steak and trimmings, but what’s a busy girl to do?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m just yanking your chain. You had to call your girlfriend, right? I hope she’s fine and all that.”
I changed the subject by moving to the newly added photo: an 8 x 10 of Mashburn’s final photo. “It’s better.” I said. “I can make out more features.”
“Still not gonna win the Ansel Adams award.”
“So we’ve got the late Brad Shackleton and the woman Mashburn called Cat, plus this guy,” I tapped the third face in Meridien’s backyard, “who Darnell called Leo the lion.”
Novarro checked her notes. “Actually, Darnell said: ‘lion lion’.”
“Whatever. He also said Leo drew him in.”
“Into his world,” Novarro said. “Whatever that means. He amended it to ‘He lived in the stars. He drew me into the stars’ – meaning Leo did the drawing. Darnell said he lived in the stars whenever he wanted. ‘Leo draws me there’ … meaning into the stars.”
I ambled to the window, looking calm, but with my mind simultaneously re-playing yesterday’s mad conversation with Darnell and analyzing his mental state. He had seemed a bit more lucid for the few seconds that he spoke of Leo and being drawn into the stars. I stared out the window, the sun bright across the buildings, distant mountains looming in all directions.
“Leo draws me into his world … Leo draws me into the stars … I live I the stars whenever I want … I live in the stars when she goes away …”
And from Novarro: “Leo did the drawing.”
Draws, draws, drawing …
I stared into the back of my head, feeling pieces coming together. I have dwelt in the land between the sane and the mad for so long that I sometimes make connections – no, I feel connections in my gut. Mostly they’re wrong, but I’ve solved cases when they were right. I kept staring, feeling my heart begin to beat faster.
“Carson?” Novarro was saying. I turned.
“Uh, what, Tasha?”
“You’ve been gone so long I was about to send in the Saint Bernards.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Thinking.”
“About?”
“A long shot. Let’s go talk to Alyce Mashburn.”
“Reason?”
“To see if we can get her to remove Darnell from his room for a few minutes.”