Tombs of Endearments (23 page)

“Not the office.” When we came to a turn, I pointed her in the direction of the valley. “I need to go to Damon Curtis’s grave.”

She figured I was in shock. Or maybe that my late-night swim had done damage to my brain. “Damon isn’t part of the group anymore, so if you’re looking to pay him some sort of tribute—”

“I’m not.”

“And you can always go in the morning.”

“I can’t.”

“But—”

Lucky for me Ella is the compassionate type. She’s also a little bit of a sucker. She couldn’t argue with a woman who’d nearly been killed, and when I insisted that she park her car in a spot that would make it impossible for her to see Damon’s grave, she didn’t protest.

I’d been hit on the head, dumped in the lake, and nearly drowned, after all.

I deserved some concessions, no matter how crazy they seemed.

Safely on my own, I inched my way through the dark to Damon’s grave. Fortunately, a couple of Belinda’s candles flickered there. Their fluttering light made it possible for me to see Damon. He was lying on the flat stone behind his marker, gasping for breath. The entire left side of his body was so faded, I couldn’t see it.

“Are you all right?” It was a stupid question, but if there was one thing I’d learned in the private eye
business, it was that shock and worry often make people ask stupid questions. I hurried to his side. “You’re in pain.”

“No.” When he saw me, he smiled. “Not anymore. I was. Gene’s talent for channeling wasn’t nearly as good as Vinnie’s. When he did it, he did it wrong.”

“And he caused you to disappear even more.” The entire left side of Damon’s body was gone, and realizing it, my throat clogged. It was as painful as when I was sinking in the lake and couldn’t breathe. “What’s going to happen now?” I asked him.

Damon sat up. “It’s time for me to go.”

I swallowed hard. It hurt. “You can’t.”

“Because you’ll miss me?”

“Because I love you.” Finally saying it made me feel better. I sat on the stone next to him, and for a couple of long minutes, I thought of everything that had happened and all it meant. “I guess that’s exactly why I have to let you go, isn’t it?” I asked him.

Damon’s smile glittered at me through the darkness. “It never would have worked out between us,” he said.

“It might have.” I shrugged. “If you weren’t dead.”

“Yeah.” His smile was sad. “But even that can’t change what we had while we had it. It can’t change the fact that you’re brave and you’re beautiful. Or that you’ll take everything you learned from our relationship and be a better, stronger woman for it. Come on, little girl.” His voice teased me into looking his way. When I did, I saw him flicker, not
like he had when Vinnie or Gene was channeling him, but softly, like the light of a candle flame.

“Crave the possibilities,” he said, and when he did, his voice was muffled and low, like it came from far, far away. “Laugh and run.” He flickered and faded softly.

“Naked in verdant meadows.” By this time, I couldn’t see him at all. I only heard his voice. It was all around me, and it tangled around my heart. I knew it would stay there forever.

“Drunk with your power. Open to me. Give your body. Your soul. Your love. Your all.”

There’s nothing like a broken heart to bring out
the worst in a girl.

I ought to know. Given half the chance, I would have left Garden View that night and locked myself away in my apartment for as long as I could. I would have pigged out on chocolate and ice cream, wondering where Damon was and hoping—whatever his nirvana—he was happier there than I was here on earth, alone and miserable. Or maybe I would have passed on the endorphin-producing goodies altogether and simply given in to the blues, pulling my blankets over my head and spending my days thinking about how much I missed him.

No matter. I didn’t have the luxury. And truth be told, it was all Damon’s fault.

He was, after all, the one who’d taught me that life was meant to be lived to the fullest. If I didn’t grab it by the tail and hang on for the ride, I’d end up like Belinda. And believe me, bad fashion choices aside, that was not a fate I envisioned for Pepper Martin.

I knew what I had to do. It was time to put the past behind me once and for all. Keeping the thought
firmly in mind (along with the fact that though I’d shopped on a budget, I looked better than anybody I passed when I walked into the Intercontinental Hotel the next Saturday night), I gave my very best smile to the tuxedo-clad maître d’ who stood between me and the door to the Founder’s Ballroom.

Did I mention that I was wearing a little black dress cut up to here and down to there? I don’t think he noticed my smile.

“There has to be some kind of mistake,” I said with a sigh. “I’ve got to be on the guest list. These are my very best friends.”

“Maybe, but there’s no Martin here.” He looked over the list again, and even though I knew he’d never find my name there, I wasn’t discouraged. He might be trying to follow the rules, but he was wavering. I could hear it in his voice.

I leaned closer. “Maybe you could just check with someone? For me?”

Okay, I admit it, I batted my eyelashes. I don’t usually resort to such blatant ploys, but there’s that whole thing about desperate times calling for desperate measures.

I promised him I’d wait right there while he went to check, and as soon as his back was turned, I hurried into the ballroom.

I was just in time for the champagne toast.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a special evening, and I can’t tell you all how happy we are to have you all here with us to celebrate.”

This sounded vaguely familiar, and no wonder. Leave it to Joel to pull out the same speech for engagement party number two that he’d used at engagement party number one.

“Simone and I…”

Of course, this part was different. As I recall, at our party, he’d used my full name, Penelope. But that was because Joel was a pompous ass and he was trying to impress our guests.

“Simone and I are so happy you are with us. We’d like to—” Joel’s words snapped in two. No big surprise since he caught sight of me heading for the front of the room. Not to worry, he’s a real trouper when it comes to social situations and avoiding embarrassment at all costs. He tried his best, the poor darling.

“Simone and I, we’d like to—”

By this time, I was within spitting distance of the head table. I wasn’t surprised when a murmur went through the room. After all, a lot of the people at
this
engagement party were at
that
engagement party.

Joel’s face went pale, but he recovered in a moment, setting down his champagne flute, patting Simone on the shoulder, whispering in her ear.

Before he could move away from the table and head me off at the proverbial pass, I closed in on the happy couple.

“Hi!” Apparently my reputation preceded me. That would explain why my attempt at congeniality was met by Simone shooting out of her chair.

I was a foot taller than her, and since she was dolled up in cream-colored silk shantung and I was in black, I suspected we looked like a smackdown between Good and Evil. Before anyone could take the thought to its logical conclusion and call Security, I got down to business.

“I just wanted to stop in. You know, to wish you guys good luck.”

Joel didn’t look convinced. He wrapped a protective arm around Simone. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Not kidding.” I reached into my purse. A collective gasp rose from the crowd. I guess they were surprised when, instead of an Uzi, I pulled out a wooden box decorated with a smiling, yellow sun. I handed the box to Joel.

“This is yours,” I said.

I didn’t wait for him to open the box, or even to say anything. My work there was done, and my head high and my shoulders steady, I walked out of that ballroom. I wasn’t surprised to find Grandma Panhorst waiting for me near the door. She’d dressed for the occasion in the same turquoise gown she’d worn to my engagement party. Her hair was as stiff as Styrofoam, and tonight’s choice of lipstick was a vivid shade of pink.

Grandma didn’t care about the
T
HIS
I
S A
S
MOKE
-F
REE
E
NVIRONMENT
sign on the wall just behind her. She took a drag of her cigarette and let out a long stream of smoke. “Made up your mind, huh?”

“I made up my mind as soon as Joel walked out on me,” I told her, and though I’d never put it into words before, I knew it was true. “I guess I just needed to tie up some loose ends.”

She smiled and looked over to where Joel was just opening the box I’d given him. On tiptoe, Simone looked over his shoulder, and her mouth fell open.

“I’m going to stay with the ring,” Grandma said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Stop in sometime if you’re looking for someone to talk to.”

She gave me a wink. “I’ll remember that, kid.”

By this time, Joel was blubbering something about Paris and the Eiffel Tower, and Nazis.

“You think they’ll ever figure it out?” I asked Grandma.

She grinned. “Doesn’t matter, does it? That’s the whole point. Where the ring came from, that doesn’t make any difference. All that really matters is what it stands for. You think they’ll be happy?”

Before I walked out the door, I glanced over my shoulder toward the front of the room. Joel was just slipping Grandma’s diamond on Simone’s finger.

“I hope so,” I told Grandma. “I really do.”

I couldn’t have been inside the hotel for more than twenty minutes, but by the time I stepped outside, it was colder. Not wanting to ruin the fashion statement, I hadn’t bothered with a coat. I slung my purse on my shoulder and chafed my hands over my bare arms.

I had one more thing to do before the night was over.

Before I had a chance, though, a rush of wind nearly knocked me off my feet. I braced a hand against a lamppost and closed my eyes to keep out the grit and dust that blew around me, and I didn’t open them again until I felt something slap against my leg.

I bent to retrieve it. It was a postcard. No big deal, right? Except that it wasn’t a picture of Cleve
land, and let’s face it, that’s what I expected, a postcard someone had purchased and dropped.

This postcard showed an imposing array of granite pillars. It reminded me of some of the monuments I’d seen at Garden View.

I turned the card over and read the caption, “Graceland Cemetery,” it said. “Chicago.”

Weird, yes? But wait, things were about to get even stranger. Because that’s not all it said. In the spot where folks usually write their wish-you-were-here messages was one single word, written in red ink.

“Help.”

A shiver skittered over my shoulders, but hey, was I worried?

Not a chance!

For one thing, Chicago was far away, and I wasn’t planning on going there anytime soon. And for another…well, I had better things to worry about.

I tucked the postcard in my purse and pulled out two pieces of paper. One was the card where Quinn had written his phone number. The other was the cocktail napkin Dan had given me the last time I saw him, the one with his number on it. While I was at it, I grabbed my cell phone, too.

It was time for me to get on with my life, to laugh and run. I was suddenly craving all the possibilities life had to offer, and I knew just where to start.

I made the phone call.