A Death In Beverly Hills by David Grace

Kaitlen Berdue standing in front of his desk.

    * * *

    "They said I should talk to you." The girl said softly in a breathy, whispering voice. Katz gave her a quick once over and then looked again. She was five feet five with coal black hair, pale gray eyes, pouty lips and breasts a man might get lost in. Were he any younger a girl like her could infect his nights and torture his days. Even now, just looking at her raised his pulse five or ten beats.
    "I'm Detective Simon Katz. You are . . . ?"
    "Kaitlen Berdue," she said with a Catholic school girls' smile and extended a slim hand. Katz took it and didn't want to let it go.
    "Please take a seat." He gave her what he hoped was a fatherly smile and released her hand. "How can I help you, Ms. Berdue."
    "Call me Kaitlen, please. It's about Tom Travis, well, about his wife, I guess."
    "You have some information concerning her whereabouts?"
    "Huh? Oh, no, I mean, I don't know where she is. I never met her. I'm here about Tom, Mr. Travis."
    "You know him?"
    "We were . . . involved." A quick frown painted her face.
    "Romantically involved?"
    "Yes." Her eyes flicked down and her cheeks went from alabaster to pink.
    "When did this relationship begin?" Katz asked in as matter-of-fact a tone as he could manage.
    "About ten months ago. I didn't know he was married, well, I mean I knew but he said it was just for show, that she was gay and that it was just a play marriage to keep her ex-husband from using the lesbian thing to get custody of her daughter. Tom said he was doing her a favor, you know, to help her keep her child. I believed him, until I read the stories in the papers. Is it true, what the paper said about his wife?"
    Katz gave her a level stare and a tiny, almost regretful nod. "The father of Marian Travis' daughter died in a car crash a little less than a year before she married Tom, and as far as we know, she was not a lesbian."
    "So he did lie to me. I'm such a stupe!"
    "Uhh, no, Ms. Berdue." Katz wanted to take her hands in his but didn't. "It's not your fault. Tom Travis is a very convincing person. Remember, he's a professional actor."
    "Men are always lying to me." Kaitlen sniffled and pulled a pink tissue from her bag.
    "Don't blame yourself." Katz made a note on his pad. "When did your relationship with Mr. Travis end?"
    "Uhh, well now, I guess. I can't continue seeing him after . . . this!"
    Katz felt an excited shiver run up his spine. "When was the last time you talked to him?"
    "Last night. We made a date for this weekend. He's, he was taking me to Cabo."
    "So, he doesn't know that you know the real story about his wife?" Katz asked in almost a whisper.
    "I didn't want to accuse him of anything until I was sure. You shouldn't believe everything they put in the papers," Kaitlen said with deep sincerity. "But now that I've talked to you . . . well, I'll have to break it off." Kaitlen sniffled then jammed the worn tissue back into her purse. "And I liked him so much! He was always nice to me, except when he had too much to drink, but he was getting better about that."
    "Do you think you could get him to talk to you about his wife?" Katz asked gently.
    "On the phone? Because I don't want to see him again, not after the way he lied to me and all."
    "Sure, the phone would be good."
    "Well, I guess so. Do you mean you want to tape record what we say?"
    "Would that be okay with you?" Katz asked politely and held his breath.
    "Well, sure! I mean what if he killed that poor woman? We have a responsibility to her, I mean as citizens and all, don't we?"
    "Yes, Ms. Berdue, we absolutely do. I couldn't agree with you more." Katz wanted to leap over the desk and smother her with kisses but restrained himself. "If I could just get your contact information, then we can plan the call."
    An hour later Furley wandered into the squad room. Kaitlen was having lunch in the deli across the street while Katz blocked out her script.
    "What are you up to?" Furley asked, pointing at the pile