Read Online All or Nothing by Elizabeth Adler - Free Book Online

or not, Al is a gentleman.” Marla took the yellow legal pad from the black tote and a Uniball Deluxe Micro pen––the only kind that never let her down. “He would never ask how things were between you and Steve––sexually.”
    The hot blush stole up Vickie’s face, making her look suddenly like an embarrassed teenager. “And why should he want to know that?” she asked stiffly.
    “Because it’s something the police have already asked Steve. It’s something a prosecutor would ask him. It’s something we need to know, Vickie. Was he a good fuck? Did he chase girls? Did he hang out with guys at bars? What exactly was your private life like?” Marla sat, pen poised over the legal pad. “The truth now, Vickie. It’s important for
you,
as well as Steve.”
    Vickie thought she was going into meltdown she was so hot with embarrassment. It wasn’t like she was talking to a shrink or her gynecologist . . . she hardly knew this woman who, anyway, looked like a Hollywood B–movie version of a Raymond Chandler private eye.
    “I resent these questions, Miss Citovitz.”
    “Cwitowitz,”
Marla corrected her. “
Svitovitz
in plain English.”
    “Miss Svitovitz.”
    “
Ms. . . . 
if you don’t mind.”
    Vickie swept her short dark hair fiercely back from her forehead. “What the hell have I gotten into now?” she demanded, getting up and pacing the floor. “Who the hell are you? I thought I’d hired a private detective and all I get is a pair of meshuggah exiles from
L.A. Confidential.
This isn’t a private eye novel––
Ms.
Cwitowitz––this is
my life
you’re dealing with.”
    “Exactly. Now, tell me about him.”
    Vickie sank back onto the sofa. She had that beaten look again. “It was good, okay, you know. The sex.” She was blushing again. “He’s nice, gentle, he wouldn’t hurt anyone. . . .”
    “What’s he like, Vickie? Really, I mean. Tell me where he’s from, what he was like as a little boy––his family, how you met.”
    “He’s from Hoboken, New Jersey. I’ve never met his family, he kind of cut himself off from them, and from what I’ve heard it’s no great loss. He got a scholarship to USC––that’s where we met, but he was working all the time too, trying to make ends meet. We fell in love. And the rest is history.
    “That is,” she added, “after the major family battle over the fact that Steve wasn’t Jewish and not good enough for the Saltzmans’ daughter, anyway. Time and patience resolved that, and not only have my parents embraced him as their son–in–law, Steve has embraced their faith and given them a pair of beautiful granddaughters. The only act left to prove his worth is to provide them with a grandson and a bar mitzvah to look forward to.
    “I’m a California girl,” she said earnestly. “Born and bred in the San Fernando Valley. My dad’s a dentist. I’ve always been close with my family. When I was pregnant with Taylor, I gave up work and concentrated on being a mother. I didn’t want anybody else bringing up my kids, and nor did Steve. Then Mellie came along. I did all the usual things: carpooled, went to the gym, met my girlfriends after for coffee and gossip. Visited with my mother, arranged birthday parties and sleepovers, Halloween costumes and Hanukkah presents. We vacationed in Hawaii with my parents and my sisters and their husbands and children. We were a happy family.”
    “Until the nightmare began,” Marla said softly.

12
    Detective Bulworth was at lunch at Jack’s Deli, around the corner from the precinct house, a place that he favored with his daily presence, eating his way through the weekly specials from meatloaf and mashed to brisket and dumplings without a thought of cholesterol or fat content. He was a big man and he was surely gonna stay that way.
    Anyway, because he was at Jack’s Deli, it was Pammie Pow! Powers who took the call. She was up to her eyes in a backlog of paperwork, battling with a balky