The Celebutantes (11 page)

“He was…”

“He was what, Poppy?”

She didn't answer. Instead, she gasped as Lex yanked her arms high above her head, zipping the tape down along one side of her.

“Thirty-four,” Lex said. “That's the number of fear, of worry. Dresses or gowns with this measurement always find their way to women who are afraid of getting caught wearing something from Macy's.”

“I would
never
shop there,” Poppy replied in a strained whisper. “Just…just that one time back in 1991, when I was desperate…”

“There's no excuse,” Madison said firmly.

“My head hurts,” Poppy murmured. “I think your energy is draining me of strength. I can't—”

“Did Elijah drain you of energy?” Park asked quickly. “Did he ask you about ghosts?”

“He asked me to—” The words came out too quickly. Poppy bit down on her lip and, immediately recognizing the slip, opened her eyes.

Madison, Park, and Lex were staring at her.

“So you
did
know Elijah Traymore,” Park stated firmly. She had both hands on her waist, and her eyes narrowed. She felt a strange combination of anger and excitement surge through her. “What did he ask you to do?”

“I don't know what you're talking about!” Poppy snapped. She stumbled back, a hand on her forehead. “You see what you've done? My energy is completely thrown off now!”

“And
my
energy is telling me that you're hiding something,” Lex said. She flicked the tape measure one more time for effect.

Poppy tossed her head back dramatically. “I don't have to stand here and allow you three to intimidate me. I can very easily point you to the door!”

“And after you do that, we'll very easily point the police and a few reporters to this very apartment,” Park said sweetly. She pulled the torn sheet of paper from her purse and held it up and out. “This was in Elijah Traymore's wallet.”

Poppy studied the writing on the little sheet of paper. Her mouth twitched. Her hands went still. She might've been good at being eccentric, but she wasn't nearly as good at masking fear. “So what,” she answered, a bit too quickly. “That could mean anything. He could've been writing someone's name.” The look in her eyes belied the firmness of her voice.

“Maybe.” Park gave a little offhanded shrug. “But why don't you take us to your appointment calendar and show us what it says in the six-forty-five time slot? I'm guessing it says you had an appointment with Elijah Traymore.”

The color drained from Poppy's face. She remained silent.

Park knew she was completely in control of the situation, and she liked the feeling a lot. This was what cops felt in an interrogation room. Watching suspects break down under the weight of their lies was downright fun. “Basically, Mrs. van Lulu,” she said calmly, “you have two choices. You can speak to us, or you can speak to the cops.”

“Well?” Madison asked. “Which is it going to be?”

Wringing her hands again, Poppy stared down at the floor and started pacing. “I didn't know Elijah Traymore well,” she said quietly. “He contacted me several weeks ago and said he wanted to meet me.”

“And did you meet Elijah?” Park asked quickly.

“No,” Poppy answered. “We only had at the most three phone conversations. We were going to meet for the first time tonight. He knew I was going to be at the luncheon today, but he told me he didn't want to talk to me there. He wanted to keep our association quiet.”

“What did he want from you? What did you two talk about?”

Poppy stared at Park. “I can't go into details about that, young lady. It's a private matter. Elijah was very, very private.”

“And now he's very, very dead,” Lex said. “We're only trying to help here, Poppy.”

“By threatening me?”

“By trying to piece together a very ugly puzzle,” Park said.

“Well, you just may be wasting your time, because there's nothing left to piece together.” Poppy stormed across the room and picked up her glass of pomegranate juice. She drank, then pointed to the flat-screen. “It's all over the news. Everyone knows Coco McKaid pushed Elijah off that balcony. Everyone knows she's guilty.”

“She is not!” Madison shot back. Tears sprang to her eyes unexpectedly, and she covered her face with her hands as she wept. She hated herself for falling apart like this. It wasn't in her character to lose control quite so easily. Sure, she had shoved people up against walls and tackled guys during a chase, but that was different.
Those
people had annoyed her. Here, she was letting her guard down out of pure sadness, and she hated it. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…It's just that…”

Lex slipped her arm around Madison's shoulders. “It's a lot to handle. We don't all have best friends who end up killing people.”

“Thanks a lot, Lex!”

“What I think she meant to say,” Park interjected, “is that seeing your best friend being accused of something so horrible is tough. Especially when you know she's innocent.”

“I do know she's innocent,” Madison said. “Something else went on in that penthouse. It wasn't Coco's fault.”

Park turned around and faced Poppy again. A little spike of anger had risen in her blood. There was the messy matter of Coco's life to consider, but seeing Madison crumble like freeze-dried caviar threatened to send her over the edge. “Okay then,” she said firmly. “You don't have to tell us why Elijah came to see you, but we
will
get to the bottom of this, and when we do, we'll remember that you totally withheld information from us.”

“And
that,
by the way, is a dangerous thing to do.” Lex poked her head in between them and put on a mean face. “People who withhold info always end up needing us later on.”

“But I have nothing to do with this!” Poppy protested. “I don't want to be attached to a murder!”

Lex sighed. “You already are attached to it…in a way.
We
know you were acquainted with Elijah, and a few hours before he's scheduled to meet with you, he ends up dead. The way I see it, we're being pretty nice here, Poppy. The cops would have already torn you to pieces.”

Poppy lowered herself onto the sofa. The nervous twitching of her mouth had dissipated. Now she looked downright defeated. “Elijah Traymore was a brilliant young man,” she said quietly. “I gathered that much from the first time I spoke to him. He was an artist, yes, but he was also involved heavily in the occult. He wore that pentacle around his neck because he practiced Wicca, just as you all suspected. He didn't do it for show or for power. He practiced his faith honestly. He believed what I've always known—that there's a lot more to this world we're living in than just flesh and blood.”

Inwardly, Park sighed with relief. She recognized the weak tone of Poppy's voice for what it was: the beginning of a confession.

“Did he say anything about Tallula being Wiccan?” Madison asked.

“No, dear. He never mentioned her to me.” Poppy cleared her throat. “Anyway, we warmed up to each other right away. We talked about parapsychology and the experiences he'd had. He was a big believer in channeling and séances. And that's why he contacted me. He wanted me to channel a spirit for him.”

Park's eyes went wide. “A spirit,” she said. “You mean, he wanted you to hold a séance.”

“Yes.”

“For what reason? Who's this spirit?”

Poppy shook her head slowly. “He didn't tell me
why
he wanted to hold the séance. All he told me was that it was incredibly important. He told me the spirit he wanted me to contact was named Corky.”

“Corky?” Lex chuckled unconsciously. “Not exactly a spooky name.”

“The names don't have to be spooky, dear,” Poppy said. “Elijah was going to come here tonight, and he and I were going to try and stir up the spirit of this person. I don't even know if it was a man or a woman. Elijah wouldn't tell me. He said he'd explain more when we met in person. But that's not going to happen…obviously.”

A tense silence descended over the room. Madison sighed loudly, then walked over to the window and stared outside. “I just find all of this hard to believe,” she stated flatly, looking directly at Park and Lex. “I mean, for God's sake, we're talking about ghosts here.”

Poppy stood up, her eyes locked on Madison. “I know you think I'm some sort of nut. You don't believe I have the abilities to see glimpses of the future and communicate with the dead. That's fine. Sad, but fine. I don't need your approval, young lady. But I've told you everything I know at this point.”

“Where did you go when you left the luncheon this afternoon?” Madison asked pointedly.

Poppy shook her head. “Right out the front doors of the hotel, thank you very much.”

“And then where to?” Lex asked.

“Home!” Poppy answered defensively. “I walked here!”

“That's a really long walk,” Park observed, keeping her tone neutral. She knew it was important not to sound accusatory. At the same time, however, she needed to let Poppy know that there was something suspicious about her explanation.

Poppy caught the hint. “Yes, well…a woman of my years doesn't keep a trim body without exercising,” she replied. She ran her hands down her sides. “Not an ounce of fat on me. Don't you girls know that staying fit is important to a woman in her forties?”

Lex didn't hide her shock.
Forties?
she thought.
Poppy, you're freakin' closer to eighty than you are to forty.
“I've really never thought about it,” she said quickly. “But if there were a woman in her forties standing in this room, I'd ask her about it.”

Madison reached out and gave Lex's hair a tug of warning.

Poppy scowled.

“Look,” Park said gently, “it's been a really stressful day for all of us, but we just want you to understand something.” She walked over to Poppy and touched her arm. “A horrible crime has been committed, and we know our friend isn't a killer. All we want is your cooperation. Now, are you sure you don't remember anything else about your conversations with Elijah?”

“No, dear. Nothing else. As I've said, he was intuitive and intelligent. I'm sorry he's gone. I wish I could have stopped it from happening, but death is a very strong man, a lot stronger than any of us. When he asks you out, there's nothing to do but accept the date.”

Park couldn't help laughing. “I hear you.”

“So wait a minute,” Lex jumped in. “Let's just say I happen to believe you, Poppy. Like, let's say I think you really can talk to the dead, okay? Why can't you talk to Elijah right now?”

“A very good question,” Poppy said. “A soul cannot be reached until at least twenty-four hours after death. This is especially true with those who've left this world violently. I can't reach out to him just yet.”

It was a typically hollow response, and Madison didn't try to hide her disapproval. She clucked her tongue as she looked at her sisters. “Well, if you can't reach out to him yet, can we leave him some sort of message? I mean, don't the dead have voice mail?”

Poppy regarded her coldly. “I'm afraid they don't.”

“Voice mail?” Lex turned around and faced Madison. “That doesn't sound right to me. It makes more sense that they'd have something like a heavenly Instant Messenger. You know—like a message box popping up in the clouds somewhere.”

“I was being sarcastic,” Madison said. “But just for the record, I think it makes more sense for them to have voice mail. How would they be able to see Instant Messages if they're floating around everywhere?”

The impromptu—and unusual—interrogation had gone as far as it could go. Park knew Poppy had put up her guard again. It would take more than a Ouija board to get her to spill whatever else she knew at this point. “Well, I think we've asked you enough questions today,” she said, her voice polite but firm. “We hope we haven't bothered you too much.”

Poppy took Park's hand and folded it in her own. She closed her eyes. “You have such steady energy,” she said. “This is a very golden time in your life, Park. You'll find a lot of success in your acting career. But be prepared for an awakening—you're getting stronger in lots of ways, and you'll be shocked at your own decisions.”

“Thank you,” Park said quietly. “I appreciate that.”

Poppy reached out and took Lex's hand in her own. Again she closed her eyes. “Ah, yes. So much excitement. So much
enthusiasm.
Your love life is about to take a dramatic and wonderful turn, young lady. An unexpected prince has already bumped into you.”

Lex shivered. “Whoa,” she whispered. “That's totally bizarre.”

Poppy smiled. She turned and stared at the resistant force otherwise known as Madison. “Come here. Give me your hand. Don't be afraid, dear.”

With a reluctant sigh, Madison walked over to Poppy and extended her arm.

Poppy closed her fingers over Madison's. She was silent for several seconds. “A true heart of gold you have,” she said slowly. “You always mean well, and you have a deep fear of being betrayed. But right now you must be strong—stronger than ever. Someone close to you will reveal himself as a liar.”

Startled, Madison yanked her hand out of Poppy's. “I'd like to leave now,” she said quietly. She started for the door, Park and Lex behind her.

“Girls,” Poppy called after them.

They turned around in unison.

“Be here tomorrow night at ten o'clock sharp,” Poppy said.

Madison's eyes flashed with curiosity. “Why?”

“I'll give you the benefit of a séance,” Poppy answered, her tone purposefully dark. “I'll summon Elijah and ask him to tell us what
really
happened to him on that balcony. Believe me, girls. Believe in my abilities. Tomorrow night, the dead will speak.”