Chapter Eight: Cementing the relationship
When I finally woke up the next day, I was alone, again. Gretchen must have slipped out while I slept. That woman was entirely too quiet.
I staggered into the bathroom and through a hot shower. When I was done, I found the new toothbrush left for me by the sink and finished my morning cleanup by making sure my breath didn't kill someone.
That thought brought back all the memories of the previous day.
I didn't have any clean clothes, so I slipped into a robe and made my way downstairs, looking for the kitchen. I needed coffee and I needed it now. Then I needed clothes and food, in that order.
When I finally found the kitchen, I saw that it was as ridiculously huge as the rest of the house. All I noticed was stainless steel appliances, large swathes of marble counter tops and gleaming floors. I doubted I'd find anything in here at Sears or Home Depot. I more than half expected to find Lurch there, but he was nowhere to be seen. Vanessa, however, was there, putting some spices in a rack. She looked up and smiled at me.
"Good morning, Hawk. Can I fix you something to eat?" she asked.
I sat down on the bar stool and shook my head. "Coffee, please. Black with two sugars. Where is everyone?"
She busied herself with putting some coffee in a single cup brewer. "Gretchen is in the gym. Or at least she was half an hour ago. Hans is still asleep. His doctor gave him something and told me that he would be out most of the day. I haven't seen Ted or Lisa today."
I looked at the microwave, and it told me that it was almost one in the afternoon. "While we wait for the coffee, would you mind if I asked you some questions?"
Vanessa set down the rag she was cleaning the counter with and nodded. She tapped her fingers on the counter top in a soft tattoo. "Sure. I assume you want to ask about what happened last night, but I don't know how I can help. Since you saw, I mean, since you were there, I'd think you'd already know more about it than I do."
I laughed to myself. Unlike what you saw on TV, most people just couldn't bring themselves to talk directly about murder, especially if it was someone they'd known. As always, I was going to have to be the one to bring it up. "How was Kat as a Mistress of the house?"
Vanessa shook her head. "I don't want to speak ill of the, well, of her."
"You were going to say 'speak ill of the dead,' weren't you?" I asked gently, "but how can that hurt Kat now? Look," I said more bluntly, "I know it's hard to talk about, but someone killed her last night. It wasn't Gretchen. So that means I need to know who else she offended. Would you rather save her name or give Kat the justice that even she deserves?"
Vanessa looked indecisive for a moment and then nodded. "Well, that was plainly said, and I guess I have to agree with you. All right, then: Kat was a terrible boss. When Hans was around, she would be mostly tolerable, even to the staff, but when he wasn't there, she was a royal bitch to everyone."
I nodded. "I guessed that much. She and Gretchen didn't get along, I know. Who else did Kat have less than cordial relations with?"
Vanessa took my cup from the brewer and mixed in the sugar before handing it to me. I sipped it and gave her time to think about my question. She picked the rag back up and bunched it in her hands.
"Well, she didn't get along with my father, but he didn't kill her," she blurted.
I nodded. "I don't get along with a lot of people yet I don't end up killing them. All I'm working on is a list of people with information, and I'll talk with your father in due time. What about Kat and Cartwright? Did they know each other well?"
She nodded. "The Senator was a frequent visitor out here when he was in office. Courting Hans and Kat for donations, I think. Hans would be able to tell you more."
"Did they spend much time together?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"Like without Hans around. Was Kat sleeping with him?" I asked bluntly.
The lack of an immediate response told me the answer wasn't "no". After a moment, she shook her head and told me "no" anyway.
"Look," I said, "let me remind you that we aren't going to hurt her anymore by talking about her. I suspect Kat might not have always been loyal to Hans, just from her personality. If Hans knew about it and was okay with it, that's their business. I'm not making a moral judgment here. Even if you don't know it for a fact, do you think that she might have been friendlier with the Senator than Hans would approve of?"
She bit her fingernail and looked at the door worriedly, and then she nodded to me. "She might have been. The Senator had a way of putting his hands on women that he's been with, and he was pretty comfortable touching Kat."
Recalling how he groped Gretchen, I gritted my teeth and nodded. "I know he did, and I'll be looking into who might have wanted him dead, too. Either one of them might have been the target, after all. Anyone else get it on with her or get into it with her on occasion?"
Vanessa shrugged. "She spent a lot of her time out, so it's possible. Other people got into it with her on occasion, though it would be faster to list the people that didn't tangle with her than the ones who did. That woman was a viper."
"Ah, we must be talking about the dearly departed," Gretchen said from the door. Vanessa jumped and got busy with the counter again. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Vanessa, that coffee smells wonderful. Would you make me a cup?"
"Of course," Vanessa answered, getting another cup from the cabinet. She was obviously still embarrassed that Gretchen had overheard her final comment.
Gretchen was dressed in a robe just like mine. We'd both need to make a trip to the hotel to get some clothes.
I reached out and took her hand. "How do you feel today?" I asked quietly.
"Better," she admitted softly. With a glance at Vanessa, she said even more quietly, "Yesterday seems almost like a bad dream, Hawk, though I know it's all too damn real. I feel badly that I'm not the least bit sad she's dead, even though Daddy is hurting so terribly, but a really big part of me is genuinely happy to see her gone. Cartwright was an ass, but I'm a bit sorrier to see him dead than Kat."
"That's straight from the heart," I agreed, "but don't ever say that to anyone else. The police already are focused solely on you as it is. Now, their blind stupidity doesn't mean I won't find the person responsible and see that they take the fall for what they did. As of now, Elvis is officially on the back burner. The police won't be looking for someone else, so I damn well better be. Besides, even Kat and Cartwright deserve justice. After all, if being an asshole or bitch was reason enough to be killed, I'd have been dead a long time ago."
Vanessa set Gretchen's coffee on the bar and bustled out of the room.
Gretchen's face was momentarily haunted, but she visibly forced it off while taking a sip of her coffee. "I need to believe that the evidence will prove me innocent and that you'll find the person that did this. I have to believe that you'll save me, or I'll make myself crazy."
"I will," I assured her with a small smile, "but not dressed in a robe. We need our clothes."
"I already asked Ivan to go pick ours up," she said. "I expect he will be back in a little while."
I stared at her. "Ivan is handling my underwear? Ewwww! God knows what that pervert will do with them."
She laughed. "Ivan isn't a pervert! I don't know why you don't like him. He's a big teddy bear."
"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him. I think the two of us can work within those boundaries," I said. "You're obviously too accepting of some people, which is a good segue into another subject: you sleeping with people for money."
Gretchen rolled her eyes. "Be honest, Hawk. It's my sleeping with people you don't approve of for money."
I sighed, and then nodded. Never push an argument you know you can't win. "Okay, yes," I told her, "that's exactly what I mean. I don't want you sleeping with scum like Cartwright. You're my wife, right? I assume I do get some say in this?"
"Yes," she said, "you do get a say. As long as you don't lay a blanket statement on me, we can negotiate. Don't you know women are born negotiators? Toss anything out, and women will at least talk about it. So, lay it out and let's see what we can come up with."
I didn't expect to get into this so soon, but I turned in the stool and crossed my legs. I knew I'd have to pick my words carefully. "I think you know what I mean, Gretchen. I don't want you having sex without my agreement." I saw her face begin to cloud in anger, and I held up a hand. "That works in the reverse, too. You have a say on what I do there, as well."
Gretchen didn't appear entirely mollified, but she said gently, "I appreciate that you're willing to make this a two way street, honey, but there is a difference between who you sleep with and who I sleep with. The difference, Hawk, is that you know my sleeping with someone else is part of what I do for a living. And, I'll admit, I do it because I enjoy it. So, how about this for a compromise; if you say 'no,' it's no."
"Why can't it be, if I say 'yes', then it's okay?" I asked, almost petulantly. I sighed to myself. I knew I wasn't going to like the way this turned out, just like I knew I would accept it anyway.
"Because, that's you giving me permission and not just vetoing," Gretchen said patiently. She must have thought she saw something in my face because she said almost pleadingly, "I'm coming part way here, Hawk. Meet me. Please."
