Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance (13 page)

“I’d love to,” Isabella answers. And, she
really means it.

“Good! Then it’s settled. Here, let me give
you my address. How’s seven?”

“Perfect,” Isabella says.

Karen stands to leave and shakes hands with
Isabella. “You know, you’ve made me feel better than I’ve felt in a
long while. Thank you for being so kind.”

“You’re so sweet,” Isabella says, shaking
Karen’s hand. “Drive safe.”

As Karen is almost out the front door,
Isabella asks loudly, “What can I bring? Wine?”

“Just yourself,” Karen answers with a smile
as the front door closes behind her.

Isabella makes the turn off Pacific Coast
Highway at Poppy Drive in Corona Del Mar slowly. There’s a big
crowd of people coming and going from the Five Crowns. She
remembers going there for her high school prom and thinks how fun
it would be to go back again. Following her iPhone GPS, she drives
slowly down Poppy Drive, all the time admiring the beautiful homes.
Up ahead she can see the blue of the ocean. The street ends and
turns into Ocean Boulevard.
I wonder why they call this a
Boulevard. There are no businesses or street lights. Perhaps the
prestige factor?

She turns right and her GPS proudly
announces that she’s reached her destination on the right. She
pulls over, parks and sees the number of Karen’s house on the
mailbox. The light is beginning to fade but Isabella can make out a
Spanish-style home with beautiful landscaping and a large second
floor veranda that looks out over the street. Getting out of her
car, she sees Karen standing on the veranda, waving.

“Hello! Hello! Up here!”

Isabella waves back, smiling. She’s brought
flowers, thinking she should bring something. Compared to the
beautiful landscaping, the flowers seem so insignificant. Walking
up the tiled entry way, the front door opens and Karen appears.
Smiling, she gives Isabella a hug.

“I’m so glad you came! I was thinking you
might try and cancel out after all my histrionics at the spa. You
know I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“Nonsense! How could anyone not want to come
to your glorious house? I brought flowers but it looks like you
already have that covered.” From the entry way, Isabella sees large
arrangements of brilliantly colored flowers.

“Oh, these are lovely. I have just the vase
for them. Please come in and make yourself at home.” Karen turns
and goes into the kitchen looking for a vase to put Isabella’s
flowers in. Isabella loves the house. She stares in awe at the
beautiful rooms decorated with gorgeous pieces of art and
furniture. It reminds her of those beautiful houses she sees on the
home tours except much better. Karen arranges the flowers in a
sparkling crystal vase and places them on the dining table just off
the kitchen. It is set for two and there are candles lit.

“Karen, this is so beautiful and, well,
romantic! You are so sweet to do this for me. I still can’t believe
you’re going to all this trouble while everything is swirling
around you.”

“Clarissa, you have no idea how this helps
me. I’ve always loved having friends over and entertaining. It
gives me some time to get away from everything that’s going
on.”

“I’m so glad I can help ease your grief. No
one should have to go through this alone. My God, what is that
wonderful smell? I think I’m three feet off the ground!”

“It’s part of dinner. Eggplant Parmesan. I
love eggplant and I’ve really gotten to love this recipe. I hope
you will too.”

“I already do!”

“Can I get you something to drink? Water?
Coffee? Something stronger?”

“I’m leaning towards something
stronger.”

“How about something sparkling?” Karen
reaches over and pulls a bottle of Prosecco out of a wine chiller
and deftly pours them both some wine. The bubbles sparkle in the
light of the fireplace crackling in the front room.

“To friends!” Karen says holding her glass
up.

Isabella clinks hers and says,
“Friends!”

Karen says, “Let’s go sit in the front room
and watch the sunset while the dinner cooks.”

They sit together on a sofa facing the
ocean, watching the dimming light.

“So Karen, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. I’m better today than I was
the past week or so. I think that’s progress. Having you over and
doing this has made me forgot about everything for a while. When
Dean, my husband, used to go on business trips, I used to enjoy my
charitable activities so much because they put me in another space
for a while. Speaking about her husband has brought sadness back to
Karen’s face and she is quiet for a moment. Isabella reaches out
her hand and touches Karen’s arm.

“Oh, there I go again! Talking about him.
Just smack me if I do that again. We were having such a good
time.”

“Karen, we’re still having a good time.
Grieving is a process. This will take time. Don’t feel bad about
talking about it. I think it helps. When my father passed away, my
mother kept her grief all locked up inside. It didn’t do her any
good. The stress almost ate her up inside.”

“Oh, you’re such a dear,” Karen says,
getting up and walking into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. I
just have to check on the food.”

Isabella looks around the room at all the
art and beautiful furnishings. She can see there are a lot of
memories here. Pictures of Karen and her husband are everywhere.
Smiling faces peering out of frames from days gone by. She can’t
help but notice the happiness they both show. They’re always arm in
arm and close to each other.
Is this what a failed, angry
marriage looks like? I don’t think so.
Karen returns with the
bottle and tops their glasses off.

“So how long were you married?”

“It would’ve been thirty-five years in
December.”

“Wow, that’s a long time. Do you have any
children?”

“No, we were never blessed. We tried when we
were younger but I guess the fates ruled against us. Dean wanted
children badly, I could tell. He never told me to my face though.
That’s how considerate he was to me. He had a weakness for certain
things: other women, money, gambling. He struggled with it his
entire life. But at the end of the day, we were still in love. We
had a love that could overcome just about anything. Did I hurt
sometimes? Sure. But things always came around eventually. I would
love to be able to forgive him for dying and have him come back to
me.”

Karen breaks down crying and Isabella pats
her on the shoulder, hoping to comfort her.

“My sister always told me I was crazy and
that I shouldn’t put up with his behavior. She always told me I
should demand a divorce. We argue all the time but always make up.
I know she says all those things out of love. You’ll have to meet
my sister. I think you’d get along with her. You’re very much
alike.”

Isabella hopes she doesn’t have to meet her
anytime soon. As they sit talking on the couch watching the sunset,
it finally hits home to Isabella that Karen did not kill her
husband.
Too many things don’t add up.
She feels so awful
inside for her half-baked assumptions of Karen’s guilt. She’s
sitting here having the time of her life. If Karen only knew why
she came in the first place. It embarrasses her deeply. Then, she
thinks about the detective:
what does he have on Karen that I
don’t know about? What if she is the world’s best con? But why
would she have to be so convincing about every little detail to a
perfect stranger?
She wants to end this charade and tell Karen
what this is all about, but she doesn’t have the heart. Or the
courage.
It would just add to her list of woes
.

“Are you hungry?” Karen calls out from the
kitchen.

“Yes! I sure am!” Isabella answers and tries
to gain her composure, “Do you need any help?”

“Nope. Just come in and have a seat.”

Isabella makes her way to the small dining
room off the kitchen where Karen has set a table for two. She has
just placed a platter of Eggplant Parmesan on the table. She
returns with a bowl of fresh greens and a platter of garlic bread
that has Isabella in a trance.

“This is so wonderful Karen. Can I live here
always?”

They both sit and laugh; Karen is clearly in
a happy mood.

“I thought you might like a little Chianti
with your eggplant.” She pours them both a glass and they raise
their glasses, toasting again, this time to a long life and Karen
adds, “to friends”. Isabella feels so bad and wishes she’d never
done this. It feels like the best and worst time of her life.

They sit eating, drinking and talking well
into the evening. Karen is very animated, talking about her travels
with her husband and the fun things they did together. She is
relishing all the old times as if they had just happened. At the
end of the meal, Karen brings in a very old brandy and pours them
both a glass.

“Dean and I used to have a glass of this
whenever we had a special night out or a special dinner. It was a
special celebratory thing that we did. Whenever we felt happy and
close, we’d have a glass of this and promise each other we’d
remember that night. It was a way for us to cement those
memories.”

“Karen, I feel so honored that you would
offer me a glass! I feel so special.”

“You are special, dear. I’m so happy you
came here tonight. You’ve been my little ray of sunshine. You’ve
taken away my sadness and grief for the moment and made me feel
whole again. I can’t tell you how wonderful that is.”

Now Isabella’s eyes are beginning to mist
over as she reaches for Karen’s hand. She squeezes it as they say
nothing.

“Oh look!” Karen says pointing to the front
window. “They’re shooting off fireworks from the beach. Let’s go
out on the veranda and watch the show!”

They take their brandies outside and sit in
the plush recliners looking up at the explosions in the night sky.
All along the street and down on the beach are couples arm-in-arm,
some sitting together enjoying the show. Sadness comes over
Isabella again as she thinks about her subterfuge to get here.
She’s yearning to tell the detective about what she knows. She’d
also like to be with him on the beach below, watching the fireworks
on a beautiful night like this.

When the fireworks end, Isabella turns to
Karen and says, “I hate to, but I must go. I’ve got to get up early
tomorrow to catch up on some work.”

“You can stay here if you like. I’ve got
plenty of room.” Isabella thinks again about how awful it would be
if Karen found out about her scam.

“You’re so sweet, Karen. I can only take
advantage of you so much. I want to say how much fun I had tonight
and what a special evening I had.”

“Will I see you at Burke Williams again next
week? I’m there every Wednesday, you know.”

“You might. My schedule is up in the air
right now. I really love that place.”

On her way out, Karen gives her a beautiful
cloth bag.

“Here are some leftovers for you. Some
eggplant, some salad and garlic bread. It’s not much, but I hope
you like it.”

Isabella puts her arms around Karen and they
both hug. Isabella has tears in her eyes now.

“Why the sadness, Clarissa? Did I do
something that made you sad?”

“Of course not. I’m so happy, I’m
crying.”

“Now I don’t want any more tears. Call me
next week and let’s get together and do something. Do you like to
shop? We can go over to Fashion Island, window-shop, and get a
bite. Give me a call and we’ll have some fun.”

“Thank you, Karen.” Isabella walks down to
her car. Just before she gets in, she turns and looks back at the
house. Karen is out on the veranda and is waving. Soft jazz music
is coming out of the house. Isabella waves back and gets into her
car. Slowly driving down Ocean Boulevard, she passes people coming
from the beach and the fireworks show. Many couples are still arm
in arm. She turns up towards Pacific Coast Highway. Just before the
light, she pulls her car over and parks. She rolls down the
passenger window of her car. It’s the night before trash pickup in
the neighborhood and everyone has their cans out. Isabella reaches
out and opens one of the cans and with tears in her eyes, tosses
the beautiful floral bag in to the can. Pulling back out into
traffic, she wipes her eyes as she turns north on Pacific Coast
Highway.

When Isabella arrives home, she’s too
wound-up to sleep. Not only does she feel guilty about lying to
Karen; she also wants to find a way to prove the poor lady’s
innocence.
But how
? she asks herself, as she takes off her
makeup and puts on her “Hello Kitty” flannel nightie. She decides
to take another look at the pictures she took that night at the
dinner theater. She’s already looked at them several times, but she
can’t shake the feeling that she’s missed something.

She uploads them to her computer, so she can
see them on a bigger screen. She props up her pillows on her bed
and sets the computer on her lap; then slowly looks at them once
more. There’s a picture of Nicole with food in her mouth, a funny
picture of Nicole and Gunther, and a group picture that Henri had
taken of her and her friends. There are some pictures of the
wedding table in the middle of the floor. She looks a little closer
to hone in on what’s beyond the table and sees Karen and Dean Black
laughing and looking lovingly at each other. She zooms in to take a
better look. They were happy and having a great evening until it
all came crashing down. It’s so surreal to think that Dean is now
dead. Karen does not looks like a woman who’s about to kill her
husband. Two of Isabella’s photos look totally black; and at first,
Isabella thinks that her camera went off accidentally. In the first
one, there is a speck of light, and then she realizes that this was
taken when the actor came out with the flashlight. She didn’t take
this picture.
How did this get here?
Then, she remembers
that Joshua had taken some pictures with her phone that night, too.
In the second picture, there is also this speck of light, but
something else. Isabella zooms in and is shocked at what she sees:
it is a hand holding a gun—a hand with a cufflink on a sleeve. “Oh
my God!” she says aloud. “It’s Hamid! It’s been him all along!”