What's Done In the Dark(48)

“Hello, Sabrina. How are you?”

“I’m splendid,” she replied with a sly smile.

A part of me wanted to believe she was being her usual snarky self, but my gut knew better.

“So, what brings you to the Four Seasons. Again,” she added with a smirk.

“I just, umm, I wanted to come by for a drink.”

“Really? Okay. What can I get for you? Apple martini?”

I didn’t know if she knew that was the drink I’d had the night I was here with Steven or if it was just a coincidence. Either way, the question cut just the way she’d intended.

“Sure. An apple martini is fine.”

I waited for her to fix my drink, and when she returned and set it in front of me, she leaned on the bar and said, “Cut the bull, Felise. Why are you really here?”

“Why don’t you cut the bull, Sabrina?” I replied matter-of-factly. “I’m just trying to find out what you think you know.” I picked my drink up and tried to take a nonchalant sip, but my hand was shaking so badly, I lifted the drink only a few inches before setting it back down.

Sabrina laughed. “Oh, what I think I know, huh?” She stood upright and folded her arms. “Let me see. What I think? I think that Dolly Do-Right met up with her best friend’s husband at the Four Seasons. Something went wrong: either she put it on him a little too hard, or she killed him. I don’t know.”

“I didn’t kill anybody,” I said defensively.

She replied, “So, you admit that you came here to meet up with Steven?”

“I didn’t admit to anything. I didn’t come here to meet up with anyone,” I protested.

“What were your intentions then? Although I’m sure to Paula it would all be the same.”

I glared at her through hate-filled eyes.

She grinned as she drummed her fingers on the bar. “You know, when Paula asked me to look into Steven’s death, I never expected to find out you were involved.”

“So, I guess you can’t wait to tell Paula this little bit of news.”

“If I couldn’t wait, I would’ve already told her.”

I knew what she was implying. Disdain was written all over my face. “I didn’t have anything to do with Steven’s death, nor was I with him,” I finally said. “We had a drink at the bar, and I left it at that.” Whatever she knew, I was going to admit to the bare minimum.

She gave me a broad wink like she knew I was lying. But no one had come into the room, so she couldn’t prove anything other than that I was at the bar with Steven. I got my purse and removed my checkbook. “So what do you want? How much?”

She lost her smile. “Oh, so you think you can buy my silence?”

I couldn’t believe she’d say that. If there was one thing I knew about Sabrina, it’s that she worshipped money.

“I can’t be bought,” Sabrina said, much to my surprise. But then she leaned in again and said, “But since we are friends, I could use a loan of a grand.”

I looked at her like she was crazy. I was an average middle-class working woman. A grand would dang near wipe out my personal savings. And I didn’t want to touch the joint savings I had with Greg because he watched the money so closely. But looking at the smirk on her face, I knew I didn’t have a choice.

“Fine,” I said as I started scribbling in my checkbook. “I’ll give you a loan.” If all I needed was a thousand dollars to make her go away, I’d gladly pay it.

She smiled.

“But this is it.” I tore off the check. “The only reason I’m doing this is because I don’t need the headache of anyone raising any questions.”

“Of course you don’t,” she said, taking the check. “But I think I decide when this is over.” She flashed a smile as she tucked the check in her bra. “Have a nice day. Don’t pick up any more men in this bar,” she added before going to wait on the next customer.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

In the car, I knew I was too frazzled to go home, so I called my younger sister.

“Fran, where are you?” I asked as soon as she picked up.

“About to go meet Mavis for lunch,” she replied.

I debated hanging up because I didn’t want to hear Mavis’s mouth, but I needed Fran. Maybe I needed them both. “Where are you guys meeting?”

“Pappasito’s on 59. Why?”

“I’m going to come meet you.”

“Oh, okay, what’s up?”

“I just need to talk.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there,” Fran said.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the Pappasito’s parking lot. I spotted Fran pulling into a spot near the front of the restaurant. But she was driving a car I’d never seen before.