The Next Victim by Jonnie Jacobs Page B

she was sure neither of them was up to doing anything about it tonight.
    "And
not
staying there," Sabrina added, "that would be like...like avoiding John."
    Not altogether a bad idea at the moment, Kali thought.
    "I think he'd like it," Sabrina continued. "We're family. It feels right."
    Kali remembered cleaning out the family home after her father's death, and the things she'd come to understand about both of her parents. Maybe by staying at John's she'd come to feel closer to him, too.
    "Okay, tell me how to get there."
     
     
    John's house, north of the city, was a Sante Festyle stucco with a spectacular view of the Catalina Mountains. The red-orange sun reflecting on the mountains was the first thing Kali noticed when she stepped through the door. She set her purse and suitcase down in the entry and wandered through the main part of the house.
    A large room of living and dining space with floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto the yard at the rear of the house. The floors were a mix of Spanish tile and random-plank maple. Combined with the natural log beams, a kiva-style fireplace, and neutral-tone plaster walls, the effect was lovely. It was a house that was both luxurious and comfortable, and not at all what Kali had expected. The furnishings, on the other hand, were exactly what she'd envisioned for John--basic. John's basics. The living room held nothing but a buttery-soft leather sectional, a glossy ebony-color coffee table, what looked to be a forty-inch plasma flat-screen television, and a state-of-the-art sound system. The dining table and chairs were sleek and modern and didn't, to Kali's eye, fit with the style of the house. The walls were bare. So were the kitchen counters except for a coffeemaker. The appliances, she noticed, were all upper end.
    "Don't worry," Sabrina said, reading Kali's expression, "the bedrooms are furnished."
    "It's too bad he did so little with it. It's a beautiful home."
    "And a good investment. That was John's primary concern."
    Sabrina made her way to the kitchen with the ease of someone in familiar space. She paused long enough to turn on the ceiling fan, even though Kali found the house chilly. Coming from the Bay Area, she wasn't used to air-conditioned interiors and always felt like she was walking into a refrigerator when she entered them.
    They'd decided to stop for food on the way to John's. By unspoken accord, they'd ignored a large Logan Foods market, stopping instead at a Basha's, where they picked up corn chips, salsa, deli salads, and a roasted chicken. As well as vodka and wine. Although it was not yet five, Sabrina made herself a stiff drink.
    What the hell
? If there was ever a day that called for an early drink, this was it. Kali opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass.
    "I can't believe he's really gone," Sabrina said, taking a long, slow sip of her vodka and tonic. "It's so...random. One minute he's alive, maybe watching television or walking around the house, and the next minute everything's changed."
    Kali tried to envision their last phone call from John's perspective. It had been only hours before his death. "If only he'd had the sense not to mix pills and booze. You'd think he'd know better."
    Sabrina nodded. "I thought he was past that. I mean, after the experience he had getting off pain medications and all. But"--she lifted her vodka tonic--"I guess I understand the appeal of escape, too."
    "Being accused of murder would be something to escape from, all right." Had John already taken a bunch of pills when she'd called that night? Or was Kali's unwillingness to talk to him part of what pushed him over the edge? Suddenly, she felt the house closing in on her.
    "Let's take our drinks outside," she said.
    "Are you crazy? It must be ninety-five degrees out there."
    Kali's own deck in the Bay Area was often shrouded in fog by evening, so the idea of a warm evening appealed to her. But she opened the patio door to a blast of air so hot and dry it was like