The Look of Love (12 page)
Authors: Mary Jane Clark
W
hile a bag of popcorn popped in the microwave, Kyle pulled the drapes closed in the living room of his West Hollywood studio. He fluffed the pillows on the sofa and shook out the chenille throw gathered in a puddle on the floor. Settling in for an evening by himself, Kyle poured himself a drink, emptied the popcorn into a bowl, and stretched out on the couch.
It had been a long week, and he was exhausted, but not too tired to watch the fruits of his labors. Though there had been only one who’d agreed to the sleep treatment this week, she was an exciting one. It was always thrilling to catch a famous actress. Someday he very well might extort money from her, but for now he was content just to have his own private screening.
He clicked on the television set and made the necessary adjustments. The picture of the sleeping movie star appeared, zooming to her closed eyes and partially opened mouth. Kyle listened to his own voice narrating the video trip down her unclothed body. The camera made stops at each particularly stimulating zone. At times the video shook. Kyle smiled, remembering what he’d been doing then.
As the actress let out an unconscious moan, Kyle moaned, too. The video was over much too quickly. He played it again. And again.
Breathing heavily, he turned off the television set. He wished he had something more to watch. But none of the others he was interested in this week responded to his suggestions about the sleep treatment. One dark-haired woman had asked him about it on her own, but she wasn’t his type. She had seemed very disappointed when he turned her down. Too bad she didn’t meet his standards.
Kyle fleetingly considered expanding his criteria for sleep-treatment eligibility. He quickly dismissed the idea out of hand. There was no point in accepting brunettes or redheads when only blondes turned him on.
SUNDAY, JANUARY 9 . . . SIX DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING
P
iper looked at the clock on the bedside table. Adding three hours, she calculated that her father would be home, making his bacon and eggs, while her mother would be at the bakery. Sunday morning was the busiest time of the week at The Icing on the Cupcake.
She picked up her cell phone and made the call. After four rings, Piper heard her mother’s voice.
“Icing on the Cupcake. May I help you?”
“Hi, Mom. It’s me.”
“Piper, honey! How good to hear your voice. How are you?”
“Great, Mom. How are you?”
Piper could hear the sound of voices in the background. “Fine, honey. As you can imagine, it’s a little hectic here.”
“I know,” said Piper. “I just wanted to tell you that yesterday I made your cream-cheese icing for the bride and groom and her parents, and they all flipped for it.”
“Oh, I’m so glad, Piper,” said Terri. “It’s such a simple recipe, but sometimes the simple ones are the best. Did it go well with the pumpkin cake?”
“Actually, there were three different versions of cake,” explained Piper. “The icing tasted great on all of them. But I think they’re going with the original pumpkin bread. Mom, that stuff is ridiculous. It’s as good as cake.”
“Hold on a second, honey,” said Terri. Piper could hear her answering a question posed by another voice, which Piper recognized as belonging to Cathy, her mother’s BFF and right arm at the bakery. Cathy had been shouldering more work as Terri’s macular degeneration had made intricate and detailed cake decorating more difficult. Knowing that Cathy was there made Piper feel better.
“Okay, where were we?” asked Terri.
“That’s all right, Mom,” said Piper. “You’re busy. I just wanted to say hi. Tell Dad I called, and give him a kiss for me.”
“Why don’t you give him a call, honey? He’s at home.”
Piper hesitated. She knew if she called her father, he would pump her about what was going on at Elysium. He hadn’t wanted her to take the job in the first place, working for a bride who the police suspected had been the target of an acid attack. Surely Esperanza’s murder had him churning further. If he knew that his daughter was going to try to ensnare a suspected sexual predator, Vin would be utterly apoplectic.
If they spoke, there would be questions. Piper didn’t want to lie to him. Better not to talk to him at all.
“I’m going to be totally slammed today, Mom,” said Piper. “In fact, I’m late for something right now. Tell Dad I love him and I’ll call him soon.”
T
he sound of chirping birds filled the morning air as people gathered in the meadow to pay their respects to Esperanza Flores. Many of the mourners wore the peach uniforms of the Elysium staff. Others seemed to be guests, some of them dressed in robes, stopping to say a prayer before they went off to their spa treatments. As each person arrived, he or she was handed a helium-filled white balloon.
Piper saw Jillian clasping Ben Dixon’s hand. Tears were streaming down her face. Anastasia Wilcox was standing at the periphery, her eyes darting around to take in every detail. She nodded at Piper when she saw her.
Piper also noticed that Wendy Ellis was near the back of the group. A heavyset middle-aged man was with her. Piper surmised he was Wendy’s father. Knowing how hard it was for Wendy to come out in public, Piper was proud of her new friend.
At the front, Vernon and Irene Abernathy stood together. Vernon stepped forward and began to speak.
“Friends, we gather here this morning to remember Esperanza Flores. Many of you had gotten to know her well, as she lived here at Elysium over the last months. You helped her recuperate, taking good care of her as she tried to heal after the terrible agony she endured at the hands of the evil person who so viciously attacked her. To those of you who nursed Esperanza and tried to make her days as comfortable as possible, please take solace from that fact. Because of you, Esperanza knew that there are good people in this world.”
Vernon’s eyes scanned the audience.
“To those of you who didn’t know Esperanza,” he continued, “thank you for coming anyway. I know she would be touched that so many of you took the time to pay your respects when you could have been focused solely on your own pleasures.
“Esperanza’s life was short and hard. But she is no longer in pain.” Vernon’s voice cracked. Irene grabbed hold of her husband’s arm while he took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He finally got out his final sentence.
“Here on earth we seek justice for Esperanza’s death, but Esperanza herself is at peace now.”
As the white balloons were released and drifted up into the sky, Piper looked around and saw several men in dark suits taking it all in, their mouths set in grim lines. She knew from TV that the police came to funerals and memorial services for murder victims, hoping that the killer would show up.
F
ollowing Holy Mass and midmorning prayer, Sister Mary Noelle had a light breakfast with the other nuns in the refectory. They ate in silence, the quiet broken only by the occasional spoon scraping against the side of a cereal bowl. Afterward Sister Mary Noelle headed for the gift shop.
There would be no customers today. Sunday was the day to restock and get ready for the week ahead. The nun put on her smock and began stacking the boxes of fresh candies, displaying them to their best advantage in the glass cases. She arranged the plastic-wrapped loaves of pumpkin bread on the multitiered cart. She walked around the shop, straightening the prayer cards, religious pamphlets, and books.
Satisfied that all was as it should be, Sister Mary Noelle looked at her watch. She still had some time before midday prayer. Leaving the gift shop, she went to the convent’s supply room, where she took inventory.
The drop cloths, brushes, rollers, and buckets of paint were ready and waiting for the job ahead. So was the turpentine, for any accidents that might happen.
B
efore the sun grew too strong, Piper wanted to go down to the pool and get in some laps. When she got there, she was delighted to see she had the place all to herself. She sighed contentedly as she stuck her toe in at the shallow end. The water was warmer than the air temperature outside.
She swam with long, sure strokes. Back and forth, again and again. Swimming never failed to make her feel strong—both while she was doing it and afterward.
Flipping over, Piper floated, looking up at the sky and thinking. Tomorrow, first thing, she would set up an appointment for a facial with Kyle Quigley, trying to secure one for the afternoon once she got back from her audition. She made a mental note to call Anastasia and tell her that she had decided to help her find out what was going on with those suspicious sleep treatments.
The sound of iron scraping against stone roused her from her thoughts. She turned over and stood up in the water. A woman was moving a lounge chair. Blond hair protruded from beneath her big floppy hat. Though the woman was wearing sunglasses, Piper immediately recognized her.
When the woman had taken off her caftan and settled on the lounge, Piper got out of the pool. She walked past the woman and smiled.
The woman smiled back. “Have a good swim?” she asked.
“Amazing,” said Piper. “Just what I needed.” Her heart pounded.
And I’m talking to someone I’ve watched and loved since childhood!
“It’s such a great place, isn’t it?” asked the actress.
Piper nodded. “Unbelievable. This is my first time here.”
“Oh, well,” said the actress as she covered herself with sunscreen. “I come here as much as I can. I always leave feeling so much better.”
Piper hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I hope you don’t mind if I tell you that I’m a big fan of yours.”
The actress put her finger up to her lips. “Shh. We play a nice little game here. Everyone pretends they don’t know who the guests are—and those of us who don’t want the world to know that we come to Elysium for a little refreshing now and then . . . well, we appreciate no one using our names.”
As the actress continued spreading the lotion on her smooth skin, Piper caught sight of an ugly and prominent black-and-blue mark on her upper thigh.
“Isn’t this horrible?” asked the actress as she gently rubbed the bruise. “And the worst part is, I don’t even know how I got it.”
V
ernon had been dreading this day. He knew that he’d put it off as long as he could. The task ahead was so daunting that he didn’t want to undertake it alone. Ben had agreed that it would be a good idea if he came along to offer support to everyone involved.
The men stood at the cottage door, looking at each other, and then both of them drew a deep breath before Vernon knocked. George Ellis opened the door. His expression was solemn.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said. “Come in.”
The two doctors entered and took seats in the chairs across from the sofa where Wendy was waiting. George sat next to his daughter and grabbed her hand.
“How are you, Wendy?” asked Dr. Ben.
“You’re going to be so proud of me,” she said. “I did what you wanted me to do. I talked to someone new on Friday after I left your office, and yesterday I had dinner with her.” Wendy paused for effect. “On the patio!”
Dr. Ben smiled broadly. “Good for you, Wendy! That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, it was great,” said Wendy. “Piper’s going to be here all week. I think we’ll see each other again.”
“That must be Piper Donovan, I’m guessing,” said Dr. Abernathy.
“Yes,” said Wendy, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. You know her. She’s making your daughter’s wedding cake.” She turned to Dr. Ben. “That’s your wedding cake, too.”
“Right,” said Dr. Ben. He looked over at his future father-in-law. Vernon cleared his throat.
“Do you need some water, Dr. Abernathy?” asked Wendy.
Her father spoke before Vernon could answer. “I think Dr. Abernathy has something he wants to tell us, Wendy. Don’t you, Doctor?”
Vernon shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, I’m afraid I do.”
Wendy looked from man to man, her eyes widening as she sensed that something bad was coming.
Vernon continued, deliberately softening his tone. “Wendy, I think the time has come for us to face the fact that there is nothing to be done. We aren’t going to be able to correct things.”
“Ever?” Wendy asked in barely a whisper.
“Not now,” said Vernon. “Not with the capabilities we currently have. In time there may be new techniques developed. We can hope that in the future there will be a way we can rebuild your nose. But for now the best and only option is a prosthetic.”
“You mean this hole in my face will still be here?” Wendy cried. “You want me to have a nose that I put on and take off?”
“One can be made that will look so good that no one will know it isn’t real,” said Vernon.
“
I’ll
know!” yelled Wendy. She turned to her father and threw her arms around his neck. As she sobbed, his face reddened. George held her, patting her hair. There were tears in his own eyes.
“I think that’s all for now, gentlemen,” he managed to say.
“If you need me, Wendy, if you want to talk,” said Dr. Ben, “I’ll be available through the switchboard.”
The doctors got up and left. George stayed behind and tried to soothe his devastated child.
F
or the first time in a long time, Hudson was going to drive through the
front
gate. He smiled at the security guard, not recognizing his face. Hudson briefly wondered how many other new hires had been made since he’d been the director.
“I’m Hudson Sherwood. I have an appointment with Dr. Abernathy.”
The guard consulted his clipboard. “Yes, Mr. Sherwood. Dr. Abernathy is waiting for you at his home. You go down this road—”
Hudson interrupted. “I know where it is.”
“Yes, sir,” said the guard as he pushed the button to raise the gate.
Driving away, Hudson took it as a good sign that Vernon had agreed to meet with him so quickly when he’d called the doctor yesterday. An even better sign was that Vernon had invited him to have lunch. That signaled that he was allotting at least an hour for them to talk.
Hudson was determined to be pleasant and not show any animosity. Vernon’s decision to have Jillian replace him as Elysium’s director had caused Hudson years of misery, but this wasn’t the time to rehash all that. Vernon had to think that Hudson wanted to let bygones be bygones, even if he didn’t really feel that way at all.
As his car pulled into the Abernathys’ driveway, Hudson’s hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. He stared at the sprawling house on the well-tended grounds. Vernon Abernathy had been living large while Hudson Sherwood had been reduced to clipping coupons out of the newspaper to save a few cents on toilet paper.
He turned off the ignition and glanced in the rearview mirror.
Wipe that scowl off your face, you idiot. He’s never going to rehire you if you look like you want to kill somebody.