to say this, but I think the dirt I dug up on him was what convinced her that wasn’t going to happen.”
“Dirt?” Darla echoed, trying not to sound too eager for an accounting of said grime.
Jake stared into her wineglass for a long moment, obviously debating with herself. Finally, she snorted and shook her curly mane. “Since Curt is dead and Hilda is currently in jail, I guess it can’t hurt to tell you. But I need your word that nothing leaves this room. Breathe anything to anyone, and I’ll take a crowbar to you myself.”
Darla nodded her agreement and did Robert’s zipped-lips pantomime. “Spill away. I’m all ears and no mouth.”
“Apparently, that was Curt’s thing, seducing mothers and daughters. His ultimate goal was a ménage à trois, but he was okay with sleeping with them one at a time, too. I managed to track down a couple of his previous girlfriends”—she gave that last word finger quotes—“and they were pretty explicit about how he went about finding and managing his victims. One of his hobbies was photography, and as you can see, he actually was pretty damn good at it. That was his usual ‘in,’ so to speak.”
“Creepy,” Darla said with a shudder of distaste.
Jake nodded. “I’d say he’s definitely in the running for Jerk of the Century in the posthumous category. He targeted Hilda first. She was a willing enough victim on her own—apparently, the jerkoid could be pretty charming when he wanted to be—but she didn’t really get what it was he was after. For all her sophisticated air, I have the impression that she’s pretty naïve when it comes to sex. Even when I explained it to her, she had a hard time understanding that’s how he liked his relationships . . . and then, you should have seen her face. Mama T-Rex on the loose!”
“What about Tera?” Darla asked, something more than the prickly surface of her horsehair sofa making her shift uncomfortably in her seat. “Was she into that threesome scene? I mean, why would she want to date a guy who’d dated her own mother?”
“Who knows? Maybe it was one of those one-upsmanship kind of things . . . you know, proving she was hotter than her mom. Or maybe she was so thrilled at the idea of an older guy hitting on her that she didn’t care. Anyhow, I think it had reached the point that both of them were ready to give him the heave-ho.”
Darla nodded, relieved. Not that her acquaintances’ sex lives were any of her business, but it was good to know that the two women had had some standards, even though both had stooped to dating Curt. “So what happens to Hilda now?”
“She called me this afternoon from the jail, and I arranged for a bail bondsman I know to work with her. Since you brought me her purse, I had her credit card number, which made things easier. With luck, Luis will spring her in the next few hours, and she can spend most of the night in her own bed.”
But where, Darla wondered, would Tera be spending the night? And that brought to mind something else . . .
“At least I’ve got one bit of good news,” Darla told her friend. “James agreed to let Robert stay with him for the next few nights, until we figure out a permanent place for him to stay.”
“You mean, as in a forever home?” Jake asked with a smile, using the familiar pet-adoption term. “Poor kid, you make him sound like he’s a stray dog.”
“Well, given what his father did, he might as well be,” Darla replied, unable to hide a note of bitterness in her voice. “But James is putting out the word to some of his friends at the university in case they know any new graduates looking for roommates.”
“Tell Robert to check out the bulletin board at the deli, too. That’s as good a place as any to get the word out. And speaking of word”—she paused and gave Darla a significant look—“with all the hoopla, I never did hear word one about your date with Barry. C’mon, kid, your turn to spill.”
Feeling herself blush a little, Darla recounted the evening out for her, up to and including the good-night kiss. Jake listened with a maternal look of satisfaction on her face. When Darla had finished, the other woman gave her a small toast with her now-empty wineglass.