Elizabeth Basque - Medium Mysteries 02 - Silver Lake (6 page)

We stayed a slight distance behind her, pretending to window shop as we strolled down the block. Suddenly, she ducked through an opening, disappearing from our sight.

I hurried Julie along to where Lana had turned. You could miss the spot if you weren’t careful. The walkway was all but camouflaged with luscious trees.

We stepped off the sidewalk onto the walkway and found ourselves in an open patio with umbrella-covered tables, many of which were occupied by patrons. It was a restaurant.

Lana wasn’t at any of these tables, so we continued to the main doors leading inside.

“
Two, please,” I told the receptionist, and Julie and I were led to a table. It was a fairly small place, but Lana was seated across the room from us.

“
I guess we’re having lunch,” Julie said as we settled ourselves at the table.

“
Yeah. When in Rome,” I said as I perused the menu. But I couldn’t help glancing at Lana. She was cool as a cucumber. The waitress automatically brought her a cup of coffee, and she sat, shades still on, gazing out the window. She glanced at her cell phone, looking at the time, I presumed. Or at texts from her nasty boyfriend-on-the-side.

I rarely ate pasta, but the menu boasted of homemade ravioli, so I ordered it, the special of the day. I hadn’t had Chianti in a while, and I thought it was a good occasion for a glass of that as well. Julie ordered a turkey and avocado sandwich. Across from us, Lana was given a simple salad.

The restaurant door opened again and Lana glanced up. She took off her sunglasses and smiled at the handsome young man who had just entered.

It was Garrett. He spotted Lana immediately, and I got the feeling the couple had dined at that same table before. He moved smoothly to her side and bent down to kiss her tenderly. She returned his kiss, and then wiped lipstick from his lips with her finger.

“That witch,” Julie hissed. “She just kissed one lover goodbye, and look at her. He doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Indeed, Garrett was all smiles. He seated himself across from Lana and took her hand. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the conversation appeared casual.

The waitress brought our meals, and we ate while we watched the pair.

“
Look at that ring,” Julie observed. “It’s got to be over three karats.”

I nodded agreement. Lana also wore a beautiful diamond bracelet, the likes of which I’d never before seen. It was made of white gold, or possibly platinum, with interlocking Celtic knots. Each knot was inlaid with diamonds and sapphires. It was absolutely gorgeous.

Lana conducted herself with undeniable grace. Her demure composure was enticing, and she had a mystique that seemed to belie innocence. When she smiled, her lips spoke of mischief. The young woman was altogether enchanting, and she knew it.

And my gut told me not to trust it, not to trust her. “I have to talk to him,” I said suddenly. “Now.”

“What?” Julie asked. “You’re just going to go over there?”

“
No. What we need is a distraction.”

“
Ah, the old distraction maneuver.” Julie faked some Eastern European accent.

“
We’re going to make like we’re leaving,” I said, downing my wine, “and you’re going to spill something all over Lana’s pretty dress. Then go with her to the restroom to help her clean it up. Leave the rest to me.”

“
But—”

I ignored her protests and got up. The check hadn’t even come yet, but I was sure I could pay the hostess, who was stationed at a cash register.

I led Julie around the tables so that we had to pass Garrett and Lana. Then I moved aside and gave Julie, who was obviously nervous, a little shove so she was in front of me. “You can do it,” I whispered as we neared their table. She nodded and took a breath.

When Julie reached their table, she turned to me, inconspicuously swinging her purse right at Lana’s coffee. Sure enough, the cup tipped over, spilling onto the supermodel’s lap.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” Julie cried as she turned back to Lana. “I’ve made a horrible mess!”

Lana was actually mortified. She had barely jumped at all, but she looked down at the dress with such dismay and distain that Julie and I took a step back. Gone was the pretty smile on her face. She glanced up at Julie with something like malice.

Garrett immediately rose and leaned over to see the mess. “Are you all right, darling?” he asked.

Lana was using a napkin on her dress, and Garrett used his to soak up the coffee still dripping from the table.

“Here, let me help you,” Julie said innocently enough.

Lana ignored her and got up. “Excuse me, Garrett. My outfit is a Jean Paul Gaultier original and I’ve got to save it.” She acted as if neither Julie nor I existed, and headed for the restroom. Julie looked after her like a frightened rabbit. I gave her another little shove.

“Oh, let me help you, please,” Julie called, taking the cue and following after Lana. “It’s the least I can do, I’m really sorry…” I couldn’t hear the rest.

A waiter was already finishing cleaning the booth seat. Garrett sat back down, and as soon as Lana’s place was dried off, I sat across from him.

“Can I help you?” he asked, puzzled.

He did look like his father. Younger, more handsome, but definitely Mack’s son. He was in good shape, and had the body of a man who worked out regularly. He was tan, too, although Lana’s skin was more of an olive brown, while Garrett’s tan was more golden.

I took in all of this in a second, while he continued to regard me with curiosity. I knew I only had a couple of minutes before Lana returned, even with Julie trying to stall her.

“
You’re Garrett Mackenzie?” I asked, trying to think quickly.

“
I am. And you are…?” His eyes softened a little as he spoke.

“
I have to talk to you,” I said quietly, “but not here. I need to speak with you privately.”

He frowned a little. “About what?”

“I can’t tell you,” I stammered. Damn it, why was I so nervous?

“
Well, then, I can’t help you,” Garrett said stiffly. “If you don’t mind, my fiancée will return shortly, and will need her seat.”

“
Please,” I whispered. “It’s very important.” The vibe I’d gotten from Lana almost made me add,
it’s a matter of life and death,
but I held my tongue.

“
Who are you?” he asked me point blank. “And what do you want?”

I reached into my purse and quickly retrieved a business card. I held it out for Garrett, but he made no move to take it from me.

“Just call me. You won’t be sorry.”

Garrett’s brows drew together, his frown deepening. He turned to a waiter, about to say something.

Damn. The last thing I wanted was to attract attention. I got up and placed my card down in front of him.

“
Call me when you are alone,” I pressed. “It’s about your father.”

Garrett gasped. I turned toward the restroom, and saw that Lana was coming back. I nodded at Garrett, who was looking at me with mild shock. I waited for Julie, and then turned to go.

However, I noticed that Garrett had palmed my card in his hand before Lana had a chance to see it.

Chapter Eleven

The next day was Monday, and Julie had to work. Mack had not come to visit since he’d told us his story, and his absence made my apartment feel unusually empty. I kept expecting him to show up, appear behind me to try to frighten or surprise me, but so far, nada.

I had no private appointments for the day. I tried to push the thought away that it meant no money either. I did have class that night, and I made a mental note to have a word with the ghost named Dan beforehand. But I wanted to use the free day to find out more about Garrett Mackenzie and his fiancée, Lana Costa.

I turned on my laptop. First, I looked up Garrett. I’d already gotten his place of business, an upscale investment business in downtown LA. I googled him, and found his website. It was all on the up and up, with information about his successes and experience. He had indeed worked hard over the last four years buying properties all over, although mainly in Silver Lake. He had a reputation for the Midas touch. He’d made a fortune, and his site stated that he would be glad to help others with wise investments as well. For a fee, of course. He was businessman. I was sure that Mack would be proud when I told him about Garrett. Maybe I could show Mack the website.

But it wasn’t really what I was looking for. I wanted some personal information about Garrett. I tried to find him on Facebook and Twitter, but came up empty. Either he didn’t have time for it, which was rare, or he was a very private person. I searched for him and his company by name in the local newspapers, but again, I found business news only. The only personal information about him was the engagement announcement.

It was around noon, lunchtime. I made myself a tuna sandwich and brought it back to my laptop.

Time to look up Lana Costa. Unlike Garrett, when I googled her name, a slew of sites for her popped up. She was, after all, one of the top models in the world. It turned out she had been “discovered” by a photographer in southern Spain almost four years ago. Just about the time Mack died, I mused. She rose quickly in the modeling world, working for major clothing designers. A couple of years ago, she had even appeared in the widely known—mostly by men—
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit calendar. There was a lot of gossip about her in those inquiring-mind types of newspapers. There were shots of her partying with rock stars in Hollywood and in Europe.

But nothing too recent. She’d been fairly quiet for the last six months. I remembered the engagement announcement stated that she and Garrett had met six months ago. To all appearances, it would seem that she’d calmed down since meeting him.

Maybe he was good for her, I thought to myself. Then my mind recaptured the image of her kissing another man at Garrett’s own home. Who was that man? I went through all the sites again, this time looking for him in the numerous photos of Lana. He was nowhere, not in any of them.

I was getting nowhere fast. It was still early afternoon, and I was restless. I had meant to wait for Garrett to call me, but since I still had several hours until my ghost class, I decided to call his office. I looked the number up on the Internet, and was about to dial when my cell phone rang.

I smiled to myself. I loved it when coincidences happened. I always took it as a sign that I was on the right track.

“
Hello?” I said into the phone.

“
Hello, may I speak to Pauline Ocean?” It was Garrett. I could tell by the voice.

“
This is she,” I answered. “Garrett Mackenzie?”

“
Yes.”

“
I’m so glad you called me.”

“
Miss Ocean, I’ll get right to the point. Why did you want to talk with me about my father?” He was polite but direct. My business card didn’t have my line of work on it, as I felt it put people off sometimes. So, Garrett really had no idea who I was or that I was a Medium.

“
I, uh, I have some information about him that I think would interest you,” I said vaguely.

“
What kind of information? How did you know him?”

“
I’d just like to share some things he told me, about you and your mother.” I tried to think fast. “And we’re—we were—friends.” This was true enough, since I had no idea how Mack would react when he found out I was snooping around.

“
I’m sorry, Miss Ocean,” Garrett said, “but can you be more specific? I’m a busy man.”

“
Yes, I know you’re very busy. I saw the engagement announcement in the paper. But I’d like to meet with you in person, if at all possible. You name the time and place.”

A pause. I looked at my cell phone to make sure we were still connected. Then Garrett said, “All right, I suppose so. There is a small park in Silver Lake…”

I jotted down the directions. “Got it,” I said.

“
I’ll be there in an hour.”

“
Thank you, Garrett. You won’t be sorry.”

“
I hope not, Miss Ocean.”

Click.

I glanced at my cell phone. One of my pet peeves was that the younger generation rarely said “goodbye.” Why was that? It was such a simple courtesy. “Times change,” I said to the empty living room. “You’re getting old, Pauline.”

I finished my sandwich and then went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put on a little makeup. I knew I’d be early, but I left anyway. I needed a little time to think about what to tell Garrett. It was sometimes difficult to explain to people that I was a Medium, and that I talked with spirits on a regular basis.

So, I took my time and pondered the subject at hand. How much should I tell him? I usually didn’t care much what others thought about my gifts and profession, but this was Mack’s son. I was anxious.