a warning over his glasses.
Claudia zipped her thumb and forefinger across her closed lips. “I won’t repeat it.”
“Well, it is considered a gray area, legally, so okay, I’ll tell you what I know. Lindsey was already sexually active by the time her brother handed her over to Preston Sommerfield when she was eight. She claimed that Earl had been molesting her as far back as she could remember. His pals had their fun with her, too.”
The thought of being touched by Earl Nelson was enough to make Claudia’s flesh crawl. “Who is this Preston Sommerfield?” she asked.
“It’s a pretty sordid story,” Zebediah said, leaning dangerously far back in the plastic chair. It wasn’t built to support his weight and for a moment, Claudia worried that it might tip over and land him on the ground.
“Lindsey’s father deserted the family when she was five. As you know, that’s an especially vulnerable time for a little girl to lose her daddy. Even a sonofabitch like this fellow apparently was. Her mother took a job as a live-in housekeeper at the Sommerfield estate in Bel Air. According to Lindsey, her mother resented having to support her, and let her know it every chance she got.”
“That big house in Brentwood where she lived wasn’t her family home? They were just servants there?” Zebediahnodded.“TheSommerfieldsemployedEarlasachauffeur. From what I understand, Preston had inherited the estate. He was a failed artiste; blew through the money pretty rapidly and abused every substance known to man. Mrs. S... Preston’s wife, not his mother... was a high-powered real estate exec. She made her own money, and for reasons of her own, kept him supplied with his drug of choice, but otherwise pretty much treated him like dogshit. According to Lindsey, the wife showed how she despised him by sleeping with anyone and everyone, the more inappropriate the better... the pool man, the gardener.” Her raised eyebrows produced a nod. “Yes, darling, the chauffeur, too. Back then, Nelson had to be more appealing than what you’ve described. Sommerfield was inadequate and entirely incapable of an adult relationship. So he paid for sex with the housekeeper’s child. And thanks to the early incest with her brother, Lindsey already had a warped view of sex, which she never outgrew. She was, shall we say, ripe for the picking.”
“Didn’t Mrs. Sommerfield ever hear of divorce?”
“As you know, people have all kinds of reasons for staying in a miserable situation.”
The waitress arrived with a macrobiotic dish of beans and rice for Zebediah. Claudia had opted for Chinese chicken salad. Eating raw greens made her feel virtuous, and less guilty about ordering dessert.
Zebediah plucked three pink packets of sweetener from the container on the table and sprinkled the crystals into his tea. “Lindsey was pathologically attached to Sommerfield,” he said thoughtfully, stirring his drink. “But she also despised him for what he did to her.”
“Do you think she could have been blackmailing Sommerfield with these photos?”
“I suppose it’s possible What makes you ask?”
“When we were in school, she always had a steady stream of cash, and believe me, she flaunted it. Had her own Gold Card. She was always showing off shopping bags from Rodeo Drive. She’d show up with stuff the rest of us only talked about buying. French silk scarves, Italian leather sandals. Always the very item she’d heard someone else say they wanted.”
“Darling, you know she had to be on top in everything.”
“I guess you’d know more about that than I would.”
Zebediah shook his head in pretend despair. “You are truly wicked.”
“She had this gorgeous white Mercedes convertible,” Claudia continued, as memories continued to trickle back. “She’d deliberately park it in the red zone. Naturally, she’d get cited, but would she pay the tickets? Of course not. She’d stick ‘em in the glove box for a couple of months,
Claudia zipped her thumb and forefinger across her closed lips. “I won’t repeat it.”
“Well, it is considered a gray area, legally, so okay, I’ll tell you what I know. Lindsey was already sexually active by the time her brother handed her over to Preston Sommerfield when she was eight. She claimed that Earl had been molesting her as far back as she could remember. His pals had their fun with her, too.”
The thought of being touched by Earl Nelson was enough to make Claudia’s flesh crawl. “Who is this Preston Sommerfield?” she asked.
“It’s a pretty sordid story,” Zebediah said, leaning dangerously far back in the plastic chair. It wasn’t built to support his weight and for a moment, Claudia worried that it might tip over and land him on the ground.
“Lindsey’s father deserted the family when she was five. As you know, that’s an especially vulnerable time for a little girl to lose her daddy. Even a sonofabitch like this fellow apparently was. Her mother took a job as a live-in housekeeper at the Sommerfield estate in Bel Air. According to Lindsey, her mother resented having to support her, and let her know it every chance she got.”
“That big house in Brentwood where she lived wasn’t her family home? They were just servants there?” Zebediahnodded.“TheSommerfieldsemployedEarlasachauffeur. From what I understand, Preston had inherited the estate. He was a failed artiste; blew through the money pretty rapidly and abused every substance known to man. Mrs. S... Preston’s wife, not his mother... was a high-powered real estate exec. She made her own money, and for reasons of her own, kept him supplied with his drug of choice, but otherwise pretty much treated him like dogshit. According to Lindsey, the wife showed how she despised him by sleeping with anyone and everyone, the more inappropriate the better... the pool man, the gardener.” Her raised eyebrows produced a nod. “Yes, darling, the chauffeur, too. Back then, Nelson had to be more appealing than what you’ve described. Sommerfield was inadequate and entirely incapable of an adult relationship. So he paid for sex with the housekeeper’s child. And thanks to the early incest with her brother, Lindsey already had a warped view of sex, which she never outgrew. She was, shall we say, ripe for the picking.”
“Didn’t Mrs. Sommerfield ever hear of divorce?”
“As you know, people have all kinds of reasons for staying in a miserable situation.”
The waitress arrived with a macrobiotic dish of beans and rice for Zebediah. Claudia had opted for Chinese chicken salad. Eating raw greens made her feel virtuous, and less guilty about ordering dessert.
Zebediah plucked three pink packets of sweetener from the container on the table and sprinkled the crystals into his tea. “Lindsey was pathologically attached to Sommerfield,” he said thoughtfully, stirring his drink. “But she also despised him for what he did to her.”
“Do you think she could have been blackmailing Sommerfield with these photos?”
“I suppose it’s possible What makes you ask?”
“When we were in school, she always had a steady stream of cash, and believe me, she flaunted it. Had her own Gold Card. She was always showing off shopping bags from Rodeo Drive. She’d show up with stuff the rest of us only talked about buying. French silk scarves, Italian leather sandals. Always the very item she’d heard someone else say they wanted.”
“Darling, you know she had to be on top in everything.”
“I guess you’d know more about that than I would.”
Zebediah shook his head in pretend despair. “You are truly wicked.”
“She had this gorgeous white Mercedes convertible,” Claudia continued, as memories continued to trickle back. “She’d deliberately park it in the red zone. Naturally, she’d get cited, but would she pay the tickets? Of course not. She’d stick ‘em in the glove box for a couple of months,
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