partner would become suspects in this grisly murder?
Felix once again patted his boyfriend’s arm. Then he smiled at me, uncomfortably. “Farzad was born in Iran. He doesn’t have exactly warm feelings toward the police.”
I nodded sympathetically. “Of course not.”
“He’s basically pathologically suspicious of authority,” Felix said.
“Have you done this kind of work before?” Farzad asked.
“Yes, I have. Of course my work is confidential, so I can’t give you references, but rest assured my partner and I are experienced in this area.” Lilly’s case qualified as experience, didn’t it? “This isn’t a service for everyone,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t slipping into too oily a register. “Only individuals with a certain public profile can afford this level of protection, or even need it. Most people simply muddle through. Ours is a service appropriate only for the select few.” I was definitely going to need a shower when I was done with this interview.
I wasn’t wrong in my assessment of Felix’s vanity. I’ve found, in fact, that it’s very difficult to overestimate the narcissism of the average wealthy Los Angelino.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have someone on our side,” Felix said. “I do have a public profile I need to protect.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “But what do you get out of this?”
I was not willing to confess my hope to buy his house on the cheap, and I was getting more and more uncomfortable with my own ulterior motives.
“We pay her,” Farzad said. “That’s what she gets out of it.”
I nodded. “That, and the knowledge that I’ve done what I can to help find whoever did that to your sister. Findingher is not something I’m ever going to be able to forget.” I wasn’t lying. The image of Alicia’s violated body was there, in my memory, forever.
“How much, exactly, do we pay you?” Farzad asked.
I outlined Al’s and my rates. They were reasonable, considering how much money Felix obviously had.
After a moment, Felix nodded. “Okay. We can give it a try. See if it works out.”
I hoped my huge sigh of relief was not audible. I leaned forward. “You won’t be sorry,” I said. “Can I ask you a few questions about your sister? To give me some context for my investigation?”
Felix told me that he and Alicia had grown up in Miami. “My dad owns a Chevrolet dealership. The first thing I did when I got out of there was buy a European car.”
After a brief stint at the Fashion Institute of Technology, Felix had followed his sister out to Los Angeles. She’d gone to UCLA and majored in acting. By the time her brother joined her in Hollywood, it was clear to them both that her star was rising.
“She had auditions almost every day, and seemed to get a lot of the parts she tried out for. It was mostly commercials and little one-time roles on TV shows, but she was doing really well. And she was leading this total Hollywood lifestyle. She and her friends would spend every night at parties, or at clubs. She was dating guys you’d recognize from TV, even if you didn’t know their names. To a kid like me, it seemed like the coolest scene ever.” He shook his head ruefully. “Alicia was terrific. She put me up for almost a year—I slept on this stinky little pull-out futon in her living room. She introduced me to people, even set me up with guys she knew.”
“Hey!” Farzad said.
“That was all before you, baby.”
“Did the rest of your family know you were gay?” I asked. “Or just Alicia?”
Felix snapped his fingers in the air. “Oh honey, I’ve been out of the closet my whole life. My mother caught me with our Cuban gardener when I was about fourteen years old.”
“Wow!”
He smiled, ruefully. “Let’s just say she was
not
surprised. I’d been cutting up her dresses and restyling them for her since I was nine years old. Not many hetero boys can manage a straight seam in velvet.”
I thought of my husband and
Felix once again patted his boyfriend’s arm. Then he smiled at me, uncomfortably. “Farzad was born in Iran. He doesn’t have exactly warm feelings toward the police.”
I nodded sympathetically. “Of course not.”
“He’s basically pathologically suspicious of authority,” Felix said.
“Have you done this kind of work before?” Farzad asked.
“Yes, I have. Of course my work is confidential, so I can’t give you references, but rest assured my partner and I are experienced in this area.” Lilly’s case qualified as experience, didn’t it? “This isn’t a service for everyone,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t slipping into too oily a register. “Only individuals with a certain public profile can afford this level of protection, or even need it. Most people simply muddle through. Ours is a service appropriate only for the select few.” I was definitely going to need a shower when I was done with this interview.
I wasn’t wrong in my assessment of Felix’s vanity. I’ve found, in fact, that it’s very difficult to overestimate the narcissism of the average wealthy Los Angelino.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have someone on our side,” Felix said. “I do have a public profile I need to protect.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “But what do you get out of this?”
I was not willing to confess my hope to buy his house on the cheap, and I was getting more and more uncomfortable with my own ulterior motives.
“We pay her,” Farzad said. “That’s what she gets out of it.”
I nodded. “That, and the knowledge that I’ve done what I can to help find whoever did that to your sister. Findingher is not something I’m ever going to be able to forget.” I wasn’t lying. The image of Alicia’s violated body was there, in my memory, forever.
“How much, exactly, do we pay you?” Farzad asked.
I outlined Al’s and my rates. They were reasonable, considering how much money Felix obviously had.
After a moment, Felix nodded. “Okay. We can give it a try. See if it works out.”
I hoped my huge sigh of relief was not audible. I leaned forward. “You won’t be sorry,” I said. “Can I ask you a few questions about your sister? To give me some context for my investigation?”
Felix told me that he and Alicia had grown up in Miami. “My dad owns a Chevrolet dealership. The first thing I did when I got out of there was buy a European car.”
After a brief stint at the Fashion Institute of Technology, Felix had followed his sister out to Los Angeles. She’d gone to UCLA and majored in acting. By the time her brother joined her in Hollywood, it was clear to them both that her star was rising.
“She had auditions almost every day, and seemed to get a lot of the parts she tried out for. It was mostly commercials and little one-time roles on TV shows, but she was doing really well. And she was leading this total Hollywood lifestyle. She and her friends would spend every night at parties, or at clubs. She was dating guys you’d recognize from TV, even if you didn’t know their names. To a kid like me, it seemed like the coolest scene ever.” He shook his head ruefully. “Alicia was terrific. She put me up for almost a year—I slept on this stinky little pull-out futon in her living room. She introduced me to people, even set me up with guys she knew.”
“Hey!” Farzad said.
“That was all before you, baby.”
“Did the rest of your family know you were gay?” I asked. “Or just Alicia?”
Felix snapped his fingers in the air. “Oh honey, I’ve been out of the closet my whole life. My mother caught me with our Cuban gardener when I was about fourteen years old.”
“Wow!”
He smiled, ruefully. “Let’s just say she was
not
surprised. I’d been cutting up her dresses and restyling them for her since I was nine years old. Not many hetero boys can manage a straight seam in velvet.”
I thought of my husband and
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