Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

rich, masculine voice confused Rachel. "Who's this?"
    "Nat Russell. Who's this?"
    "A friend of Erica's. Let me talk to her." Rachel's thoughts had been filled with bad news and warnings but hearing the country western singer's voice knocked her mind off track. She knew Erica occasionally had a celebrity escort for special functions. Their pictures often appeared in magazines and tabloids. But what was the man doing in Erica's house before noon on a Sunday, answering the private line next to her bed?
    "Rachel? I'm a little busy at the moment. I'll have to call you back."
    Rachel almost agreed until she heard Erica whisper "Stop that" and let out a light giggle. Erica never giggled. "No. This is urgent." She could tell Erica was covering the mouthpiece and saying something to Nat, and she ordered herself to give Erica a chance to explain.
    "Erica!"
    "Gawd, Rachel. What's the problem?"
    "What the hell is Nat Russell doing in your bedroom?"
    "You're the detective, darlin'. You figure it out."
    Rachel hiccupped and swallowed the growing lump in her throat. "How could you do this? I thought that—"
    "For chrissakes, Rachel, you've been drinking again, haven't you?"
    "So? I needed a drink after what just happened. Erica, I need you. Here. Now!"
    The sigh Rachel heard over the phone was one of boredom, disgust, or both, and she had to push the lump back down again. Her voice was reduced to a whimper. "I thought you loved me."
    "And I do, darlin', but I never promised not to have other... friends. Now, why don't you go sleep it off, and I'll call you later tonight?"
    Rachel was about to hang up when she remembered her reason for calling. "No! This can't wait." Her words picked up speed as her earlier panic renewed itself. "It's all coming apart. I wanted to warn you so you'd be prepared when they come to question you. Bobbi and I have both been suspended pending further investigation. I can't reach April at all. It had to be that simpering little pussy, Holly. She must have told them everything!"
    "Rachel, please calm down. I don't understand anything you're saying."
    Rachel made herself set aside her personal turmoil and behave like the trained professional she was so proud of being. Correction, had been so proud of being. "Where were you this weekend, Erica?"
    "Didn't April tell you? I was in Florida. I just got back about an hour ago."
    "Where in Florida? Did you take your private jet, or a commercial flight? Do you have any witnesses that can swear to your whereabouts between the hours of one and four this morning?"
    Erica hesitated, clearly reinforcing her own professional armor before speaking. "What's this all about? What's happened?"
    "Jerry Frampton was murdered in Boca Raton, Florida, sometime before dawn. Same m.o. as the others. Bobbi and I have already been questioned, but they had nothing solid to charge us with. We can prove we were both in Washington this morning, and our other alibis should hold up. But they know everything, Erica. It had to have been Holly. It's the only thing I can figure."
    "What exactly do you mean by everything?"
    Rachel gave a dry laugh. "Webster's definition. They asked me about certain cases Bobbi and I handled, and they knew about our relationship. They wanted me to tell them about your unusual marital history." She could visualize Erica on her knees, begging forgiveness for being unfaithful, doing anything to ensure her continued protection.
    "I see. Then I suppose I should be expecting visitors soon."
    "Not necessarily. I figured if you get your pilot to fly you here immediately, we can put our heads together to firm up your alibi for the hours in question. Everything will be just fine once we're together again, you'll see."
    Erica cleared her throat, and murmured something Rachel couldn't hear. When she spoke again a few seconds later, her voice was hushed. "Listen to me, Rachel. I don't know what you think I was doing during the hours in question , but I don't need your help with an alibi. Nat and I were in Miami together. We flew down yesterday, partied in a couple of the clubs on South Beach last night. Several thousand people saw us—he's rather recognizable, you know."
    "We flew back to San Diego at dawn on my jet. Anyone can ask me anything they want. I'm innocent as a babe. The last thing I intend to do right now is go running to someone who is bound to be a prime suspect in three murders. As far as I'm concerned, honey, as of this minute, it's every girl for