Page 9 of Accidental Murder
“Kayla.” Veronica snapped her fingers. “Focus.”
Kayla smiled. Yes, she needed to concentrate. She scanned the cutouts of Australian animals pinned to the corkboards around the room. “Let’s see what lives in Australia. Hover the cursor over the word Australia.”
“Can you spend the night at my house?” Veronica’s words ran together, her brain working faster than her speech allowed.
Kayla had never been to Veronica’s house—the administration frowned upon volunteers interacting with students anywhere other than at school—but the girl asked every time. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I have a blind date.”
“He’s blind?”
“No, he’s not—” She couldn’t explain. “Click on Australia.”
Veronica did as told. On the monitor, Australia shimmered. Veronica scrunched up her pixie face. “Go, go, go. Give me a command.”
A kangaroo hopped across the screen pulling a giantKbehind it.
“Click on the kangaroo.”
“K for Kayla!” Veronica cried.
“That’s right. Now click on the panda.”
When it was time for Kayla to leave, Veronica hugged her hard. “I’d rather die than go on a blind date.”
Kayla bit back a smile. She would rather die than spend the next hour getting a makeover by her interfering sister. If wishes were horses . . .
Kayla perchedon the end of her bed, her hair twisted into a chignon, her face daubed with makeup. Her sister was scouring the closet looking for something appropriate for Kayla to wear on the date. Ashley had arrived with a Christmas lily to makeKayla laugh, a bottle of chardonnay for herself, and her faux sable, spiky heels, and evening purse to dress Kayla to the nines.
“How’s Peter doing in Paris?” Kayla asked.
“Peter?”
“Yeah, you know, the man you love? He took the red-eye. He must have landed by now.”
“He’s . . . ” Ashley paused. “I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s focus on your date. His name is Richard Troy.”
“Do I need a lobotomy to talk to him?”
“He’s smart. He’s a pharmacist.” Ashley studied her. “Don’t make a face. No matter what, he’s got to be better than you-know-who.”
Ashley mimed chain-smoking. She was referring to the worst relationship of Kayla’s life, Dennis Wald, a level-three inspector at SFPD who thrived on competition and danger. She’d met Dennis at a motorcycle rally. He rebuilt muscle cars for fun and sailed as often as he could. After three dates, he’d proposed, and Kayla had toyed with the idea of marriage, but then she’d started to notice Dennis’s mood swings. In seconds he could transform from a gentle man to a jealous, forbidding force. When she’d broken off their relationship two years ago, he hadn’t been pleased. He phoned her incessantly and repeatedly showed up unannounced. When she’d obtained a restraining order, he’d backed off.
“By the way, Mr. Troy will be wearing a carnation.” Ashley placed a black silk sheath on the bed beside Kayla.
“Do I need a secret password to identify myself?”
“No.”
After Kayla dressed, Ashley spritzed her with Chanel and slung a cashmere scarf around Kayla’s head. “Wear this until you get to the restaurant.” She tied it in a chic knot. “It’ll keep your hair from frizzing. C’mon, smile. It’s not a death march.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kayla sat in her Jeep,thirty feet shy of Giorgio’s Ristorante, and peered through the binoculars. By the entrance, carolers clad in turn-of-the-century costumes were entertaining the San Francisco glitterati. Among the crowd stood a square-jawed guy, a carnation pinned to the lapel of his tweed jacket. The curl of hair hanging down his forehead reminded Kayla of the nursery rhyme:When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad . . .
“Dang it, Ashley,” Kayla griped. “Why did I let you talk me into this again?” She wondered what her sister was up to right now. Drinking the chardonnay? Feasting on leftovers? Without a doubt, she was ignoring Java, Kayla’s cat.
A Thunderbird pulled up to the valet. A chic brunette in a knee-length mink coat exited. The woman swiveled and stared straight at Kayla. For a brief second, Kayla thought it was Sara, but it couldn’t be. Sara, who was dedicated to putting an end to animal cruelty and world hunger, would never be seen wearing fur. Not even fake fur.
Kayla considered bailing on the date and going to Sara’s place to check on her, but if she did, she would never hear the end of it from her sister. Pulling Ashley’s coat tighter, she triedto drum up the courage to drive forward, but she couldn’t. If only she’d dressed like she’d wanted to, in jeans and a T-shirt.Be yourselfwas her mantra, but as herself, she hadn’t attracted a man in over a year.
