A Stirring from Salem (11 page)

Several black button spiders scurried along the wall of the Tom-Ali Clinic as Cornelius clicked on the lights. Known as black widows in the United States, the spiders lived up to their namesake’s reputation: they were beautiful but dangerous.

Cornelius was used to them coming from the cracks that had appeared in the walls over the last few years, so he paid no attention as he moved to the locked, wall-sized medicine cabinet.

Inside were rows and rows of various medications, most donated by the government, sponsored charitable organizations, or pharmaceutical companies.

He took bottles of the three antimalaria meds for Scarlett and put them in his duffel. As he was closing the cabinet, he stopped and perused the wealth of pharmacology at his disposal.

After a long moment, he reached for a bottle of Rohypnol.

“Roofies,” he said wryly to himself as he slipped it in with the other bottles. The drug was so versatile that it could be used as a sedative, an animal tranquilizer, or an amnesiac agent.

He locked the cabinet and smiled. Then he moved to a mirror that hung on the far wall and checked his image. He adjusted his collar, slicked back loose hair behind his ears, and grinned.

Heading out of the clinic, he turned off the lights and locked the door behind him.

The night was gorgeous, hot and steamy, with the stars shining brighter than he’d ever remembered.

Climbing into the Tom-Ali van, he clicked on his radio and South African jazz megastar Andre Schwartz’s music filled the air.

After checking to make sure his rifle was secure on the seat next to him, Cornelius headed down the gravel road to the Royal Londolani to bring the meds to Scarlett. By now the animals were emerging, escaping the heat of the summer day.

Sleek zebra.

Graceful giraffe.

And the predatory jackal.

The warm glow of torches lit the path to the reception lodge as Brendan drove the Rover back from the game ride. While the lush summer foliage often made viewing animals more difficult, their ride had been incredibly rewarding. Aside from the kudu, impala, and giraffe they’d spotted, they had come upon two lionesses in the same pride with cubs less than two months old. Brendan had stopped the Rover for nearly forty minutes, quietly observing as the cubs suckled; their mothers groomed them; and they tussled with each other playfully as they found their footing.

“That was absolutely phenomenal,” Marlena said to Brendan as they all climbed out of the open truck.

“We were so lucky,” her Asian counterpart said. “Seeing moments like those is one of the reasons we come back here so often.” Jiao-jie and her husband, Wen, were frequent visitors to Londolani. In their mid-thirties, they had the carriage and sophistication that spoke of Chinese royalty, and Wen’s surname, Xing, gave every indication that they were.

“How many trips have you made here?” John asked Wen casually.

“Ten perhaps?” Wen asked his wife.

“At least.” She smiled warmly. “There is no better place to escape the chaos of Hong Kong than here.”

“And you?” Wen asked John.

“First time for me,” John responded. “But Doc was in the area years ago when she volunteered at one of the clinics in Hoedspruit.”

“A doctor!” Jiao-jie said, impressed. “I wanted to study medicine, but my father insisted on law. Not exactly the same personal satisfaction as being a surgeon.”

“I’m actually a psychiatrist,” Marlena offered.

“But you help people nonetheless,” Jiao-jie said.

“So do we,” Wen interrupted.

“How?” his wife asked.

“By providing them with things to cure their itch to spend money,” he joked. His smile was engaging.

“We’re importers,” Jiao-jie admitted. “Londolani is one of the stops we make all over Africa.”

“Lucky you,” John remarked.

“In fact, you’ll find a few of their trinkets in our gift shop,” Brendan added. “And in the photo shoot.”

“Expensive trinkets, I suspect,” John said.

“Only the best for your wife—and mine,” Wen said, smiling.

“It’s pretty amazing stuff,” Brendan said. “The shop’s open after the morning ride, and you should take a look. But now it’s time for dinner.”

Brendan nodded to two staff members who were at the ready.

“After those delicious sundowners, I’m not sure I’m hungry,” Jiao-jie said. Sundowners were the champagne and delicate appetizers that were served under the stars halfway through every evening ride. Local fruits, grilled vegetables and rich cheeses, caviar on toast points, and indeterminate but delicious grilled meat on skewers had been on the ride’s menu.

“Could we not discuss the sundowners?” Marlena grimaced, embarrassed.

“Whatever you want, Doc,” John said as he bit his lip to keep from laughing. “But it was an experience to remember.”

Marlena punched him lightly as the three others managed to stifle their laughter.

“If you’d like to freshen up first,” Brendan told Marlena, “we can meet in the boma in thirty minutes. The photo shoot should be done by then.”

***

The photo shoot was indeed close to wrapping when Brendan escorted Marlena and John into the enclosure at the far end of the camp. The “boma” was lit with torches, sending golden light flickering off the woven, thorny brush that created the high walls of the hidden fortress. Scarlett, Brigitta, and Nikki wore brightly colored simple summer sheaths accented with handcrafted big, bold African jewelry as they danced with staff members in traditional garb.

“Scarlett, I need more in your eyes…Scarlett! Give me sex…let’s see it…Brigitta, raise those arms high…Nikki, yes, powerful, but give me more…Come on, girls,” Vince commanded as he moved from girl to girl taking shots of them gyrating wildly while a tribal band played ngoma drums and musical bows.

“Don’t stop!” he added as he moved to look through the shots. From Vince’s expression, Charley could see he wasn’t totally pleased. “Scarlett, Nikki—switch places,” Vince heard from behind as an amped Charley directed the models effortlessly.

“What?” Scarlett scoffed.

“What are you doi—?” Vince said as he whirled to see Nikki glide into Scarlett’s circle, while Charley led the reluctant Scarlett into Nikki’s place.

The resulting image was spot-on. The orange of Nikki’s dress mirrored the paint that streaked the face of one of the young dancers, while Scarlett’s deep rose was the color of the bangles up the leg of another.

“Brilliant,” Vince shouted. “Great eye, girl, great eye…”

After several more shots of the dizzyingly sensual scene, Vince pumped his fist in the air repeatedly. “That’s—a—wrap—fabulous!”

Nikki and Brigitta were exhausted but exuberant. Scarlett’s expression was less than enthusiastic. The deep thumping of the drums and the gongs, rattles, and strings crescendoed as the powerful noise ended with a bang.

“Makeup call time is 3:00 a.m.,” Charley chimed in as the group dispersed.

The dancers bowed to each other, while the musicians sat stock-still. John wolf-whistled and Marlena applauded loudly.

Charley whirled to see them there again. Just then, Vince patted her on the back and repeated, “Great eye, girl, great eye. Must’ve gotten it from your mother.”

Brendan couldn’t help but notice John and Marlena exchanging glances.

“There’s a light dinner set up for you all in the suite. Get to sleep
early
,” Vince demanded.

“Call time 3:00 a.m., we know, we know!” Scarlett spluttered as she slid past Charley. Everyone from hair, makeup, and wardrobe followed.

John and Marlena parted to let them pass. As Scarlett moved through, she caught her first real sight of John. Dashing. Handsome, she thought. Just plain hot.

Caught off guard, Scarlet tripped in her Christian Louboutin heels and awkwardly tumbled forward.

John, being John, swept her up before she hit the ground.

“You’ve got a lot of work to do, darlin’,” he said, smiling. “Wouldn’t want any bruises on that beautiful face.”

Scarlett melted.

“Right, Doc?” John said as he glanced to his wife.

But Marlena was totally unaware of the interchange. Her focus was on Charley, who was now in deep conversation with Vince as they clicked through the shots taken earlier.

“Be careful,” John told Scarlett. “We want this shoot to be perfect.”

Before Scarlett could ask why it would matter to John, Brigitta started hiccupping. Again.

“Excuse us?” Nikki said, smiling, as John righted Scarlett. “And sorry if we’ve interrupted your vacation.”

“We knew there was a photo shoot here when we booked,” John said. “It was all last minute, and they were totally up front, so not a problem. Besides, this is all pretty intriguing.”

“Very,” Scarlett said as she attempted to lock eyes with John. But he was now fixated on Marlena who was fixated on Vince still in deep, close conversation with their daughter.

“Uuka can walk you back,” Brendan said to the models.

Uuka was just outside the entrance and indicated for them to lead the way.

“Doc?” John said to Marlena as soon as the girls and the other talent had exited. “You okay?”

“Just being me,” she said, giving him a look and glancing back at Vince and Charley. “I know…the overprotective mother.”

Brendan’s tanned brow furrowed as he overheard the comment.

Marlena noticed his reaction and sighed. “As Charley said, it’s all a bit complex.”

A light wind was blowing as Cornelius walked the elevated path to one of the magnificent Londolani suites. In the distance he could hear the sounds of the tribal band from the boma. The rhythms were dynamic, frenzied, and highly sexual.

He smiled to himself.
All this and supermodels, too. One dumb enough to throw away her malaria tablets.

There was a rustle of leaves in the nearby bushes. Cornelius stayed on the path but moved to the edge. He could see several small wild cats scurrying through the brush.

As the music ended, he heard a wolf whistle and some applause followed by some muffled chatter. Then there were footsteps behind him.

Cornelius turned to see Wen and Jiao-jie being escorted toward the boma by a tall African who carried a wooden jewelry case.

“Mr. and Mrs. Xing,” Cornelius said. “Good to see you.”

“Very nice to see you, too.” Jiao-jie smiled. “How has everything been at the clinic since we last saw you?”

“Couldn’t be better,” Cornelius stated. “Is that your newest collection?” he asked as he indicated the box in the African’s hand.

“Exquisite platinum pieces with blue diamonds,” Jiao-jie said. “We’re dropping them with the concierge and then heading to dinner. Will we see you while we’re here?”

“If you have the time, yes,” he answered.

“We never did thank you properly for your fine work,” Wen said. “Look, barely a scar.”

Wen held out his hand and Cornelius inspected it. On one of the Xings’ trips, Wen had sliced his hand badly and Cornelius had been called to the game farm to stitch the wound. The scar that ran across Wen’s palm was barely visible.

“If I ever need plastic surgery, I know who to call,” Jiao-jie teased.

“Speaking of plastic surgery,” Wen said as he nodded toward the boma. Scarlett, Nikki, and Brigitta were headed toward them, followed by makeup, hair, the stylist, and Uuka, of course. “You can’t tell me they haven’t had it.”

“Those perfect bodies are totally natural, darling.” Jiao-jie smiled. “Or not.”

“Excuse me,” Scarlett sniped as they walked up, “but this is our suite.”

“And lovely to meet you, too, miss.” Jiao-jie smiled as she bowed her head slightly.

“Well, thank you,” Scarlett said, startled.

“Miss?”
she thought.
Finally!

“If you’ll excuse us now,” Jiao-jie said. “So nice running into you again, Cornelius.”

“Same back,” he answered.

Wen and Jiao-jie headed toward the game lodge as the girls entered their suite, the entourage behind them.

***

The girls began undressing immediately, slipping off their two-thousand-dollar shoes and jewelry, and shrugging out of their clothes.

Accustomed to stripping down after a shoot, it took a few minutes before Nikki noticed that Cornelius had entered and was watching transfixed as they disrobed.

“Can we help you?” she asked simply. Even the slightest movement of her face lit it up like sunrise on the Kalahari.

“I don’t suppose you’re—Scarlett O’Hara.” He smiled as he checked the prescription labels on the malaria tablets.

“Do I look like a Scarlett O’Hara?” Nikki chuckled.

“More like Halle Berry,” he said, smiling as he moved closer. “But you’ve probably been told that a thousand times.”

“One or two,” she replied with a smile.

Cornelius could barely rip his gaze away from Nikki. Her smile was engaging and her full, coral-painted lips inviting.

“Yoo-hoo,” Scarlett said as she waved her nearly forty-year-old arms. “Those for me?”

“If you’re the one who tossed her malaria tablets, yes they are,” Cornelius said, turning to face her.

“That’s moi,” Scarlett admitted as she glared at Brigitta.

“I’m also supposed to make sure you take them,” Cornelius said as he handed them over. “It is important, Scarlett. It’s like shingles. If you get malaria, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” The half-nude models around him might have distracted Cornelius, but he knew his job.

“Here’s some water,” Brigitta chirped as she grabbed a bottle of mineral water.

“Thanks a heap.” Scarlett smiled weakly. She opened the bottle, dumped the tablets in her hand, and then downed the bitter pills. Her face screwed up as if she’d eaten cat food. “I’d rather take powdered rhino horn,” she said as she shuddered. “Couldn’t taste any worse than this!”

Cornelius reeled. “Rhino horn?”

Nikki shook her beautiful head at Scarlett, disgusted. “Don’t listen to her. We know it’s illegal…and inhumane.”

“Just kidding,” Scarlett threw back at them. But they all knew she’d pay a fortune if she could get her acrylic nails around some.

“Rhino poaching’s increased two thousand percent in the last year,” Cornelius snapped. He was angry, and the veins on his neck showed it.

“Sorr-y” Scarlett said as she tossed her bright red curls.

“This isn’t funny,” Cornelius added. “It’s an epidemic, Scarlett…no, it’s a tragedy, and even joking about it is pathetic.”

The room was quiet as everyone just stared.

“Okay, okay, I am sorry,” Scarlett said in as apologetic a tone as she could. “Really. I just thought if it’s true that Elle Macpherson uses—”

“Shut your pie hole, Scarlett!” Nikki said.

“Whoa,” Scarlett said, backing up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay…” Nikki trailed off. Then she looked at Cornelius. “And while you are absolutely adorable, and I not only love your passion about this and appreciate the way you look at me, I’m a married woman—”

“—Cornelius,” he said.

“Cornelius,” she completed.

“And her husband is a defensive tackle for the Green Bay Packers,” Brigitta added. “Big guy. Huge.”

“I also have a gorgeous son and a precious daughter, both under five, who I adore. So if you’re looking for more than a drop-off on those meds tonight, I’m not the place to look,” Nikki added.

“Did I put out that vibe?” Cornelius asked. He’d been put in his place and he knew it.

“Kind of,” Brigitta said, nodding.

“I am sorry about all that,” Cornelius said to Nikki. “But your husband’s one lucky guy. You are a gorgeous woman.”

Ashley, the usually quiet stylist, stepped in. “Come on, guys, it was a long flight, a long day, and we’ve got a—”

“Three a.m. call,” everyone said simultaneously.

“Then my apologies to you all, truly,” Cornelius stated. “I know you’re here to work, and I actually have an early call tomorrow, too. So…”

“Good night?” Nikki said.

“Good night,” Cornelius answered. “And make sure she takes those things every day, Nikki,” he said, indicating Scarlett.

“’Night,” Scarlett seethed.

“Ta,” Brigitta said with a hiccup. “Oh!”

There was a moment of silence after Cornelius exited; the only sounds were those from nature that lurked right outside their suite.

“Let’s finish up, guys,” Ashley said.

They all went back to prepping for the morning as Scarlett stared at the closed door.

Make sure “she” takes the pills? Scarlett said to herself. What am I, chopped liver?