THE HOUSE THAT VANITY BUILT

by Nancy Cole Silverman

  “I’m so confused. It all happened so fast. Jared, the baby, and now this.” The cat jumped from Amy’s lap and scampered back into the study. “Billy thinks I need time to absorb everything that’s happened. I’m still spinning from the shock of it all.”

  “Billy?” I sat back and put my hands in my lap. Billy was definitely more than a friend.

  “He was my boyfriend all through junior high and high school.” Amy sniffed and dabbed her eyes. “I never dated anyone else. After my mother died, things fell apart. I wanted to leave, move to LA, and take acting lessons. Billy’s from Carp, he’s homegrown. He was never going to leave. When I did, I broke his heart.”

  “He followed you here?”

  “He came into Starbucks one day and told me he wanted to get back together. That he’d do anything. But by then, I had met Jared, and it was too late.”

  “And Billy couldn’t compare.”

  “Strange, that’s exactly what Billy said. Anyway, I introduced him to Carlene, and they started to get along. Before I knew it, we were a foursome. Carlene and Billy. Jared and me. Doing things together. It felt nice. I told Jared all about Billy and our past. It was fine, and Jared wasn’t worried, he wasn’t the jealous type. When he learned Billy was a beekeeper, he invited him up to the house to meet his father. The doctor had been complaining bees were threatened, and his garden was suffering. I mean, who knew, right? It just all worked out. Dr. Conroy liked Billy, and before I knew it, the doctor asked Billy to move a couple of his hives onto the property, and everybody was getting along.”

  “That had to be nice for you,” I said. “Since you were so new to the area and all alone.”

  Wilson put his hands across his heart. “Poor baby.”

  “It was nice,” Amy said. “I mean it was a little strange, Billy being so close and all, but he understood I was in love with Jared and supported me.”

  “He sounds like a good friend.”

  I glanced back at Wilson and wondered if we had the same thought. Was Billy more than a friend? Perhaps a vengeful lover in disguise, waiting for the right opportunity to win back Amy’s love? Wilson shrugged. No help there. I tabled my thoughts of Billy. Until I could speak with him, I’d have no idea. I turned my attention back to Amy.

  “Amy, there’s something I need to talk with you about. I wanted to call you to tell you to come by, but I knew I didn’t need to. I sensed you’d be here.”

  “Really?” her eyes brightened.

  “Yes, you see, I’ve had a bit of luck, and it concerns you.”

  Amy’s brow furrowed. She had no idea what I was about to tell her.

  “Lupe found your ring.”

  “The housekeeper? But how…how do you know Lupe?”

  “I met her the other day,” I said.

  “At the memorial?”

  I nodded.

  Wilson crossed his arms and waited. No doubt curious how I planned to explain how I had tricked Lupe into letting me into the Conroy mansion for Jared’s suit. I saw no need for an explanation, and instead, I went with a reasonable facsimile of the truth—or as close as I felt I could get—and hoped for the best.

  “I told her I was a psychic, and that you had come to me about your ring. She got very excited. She said she didn’t really believe in psychics, but if you did, that might be an answer to her problem.” I paused and reached into my skirt pocket. “She found it in the guest house in the bathroom. She had given it back to Jared for safekeeping, and—”

  “And she gave it to you?”

  “She was afraid the ring might cause a problem between you and the doctor if he knew you’d misplaced it. She said she’s been waiting for the right time to return it to you.”

  Amy reached for the ring, her hands trembling.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Jared planned to give it to you at the altar.” I put the ring in the palm of her hand and squeezed it shut.

  “I don’t know, Misty.” Amy held the palm of her hand to her heart. “Something about it doesn’t feel right.”

  “Jared wanted you to have it.”

  “It’s just I feel awful about Jared. I didn’t want him to die, but you’re right, I didn’t want to get married. I was pregnant with Jared’s baby, and I didn’t know how to get out of it.”

  I wiped a tear from Amy’s face. “You don’t have to feel awful. Jared’s death isn’t your fault. And you don’t have to wear the ring if you don’t want to, but you should find a safe place to keep it.”

  Amy stood and hugged me. “Maybe I’ll put it away for a while. I need to think about it. But first, I have to go back to my apartment and get some clothes. Dr. Conroy’s expecting me back at the house this afternoon.”

  I walked Amy to the door.

  “Whatever you decide, dear, it’s entirely up to you. But it might be best if you didn’t mention to the doctor that you came to see me today. I sensed when you introduced us that he wasn’t a fan.” I saw no reason to tell Amy the doctor had stated as much before leaving me at the memorial. “As for the ring, a word of caution: If the doctor were to learn Lupe had found the ring, and didn’t tell him, she’s afraid it would jeopardize her position. If you say anything at all, perhaps it might be better if you said you found the ring yourself. That with the pregnancy your fingers had swollen, and you’d taken it off and misplaced it.”

  “I understand.” Amy hugged me goodbye. “And don’t worry, I know he can be difficult, but I think he means well.”

  I closed the door.

  Wilson slipped up behind me. “That’s what you mean by guilt, is it? Why Jared’s not making himself available to us, because he feels guilty about using Amy to secure his trust fund.”

  “Partially,” I said. “The other half of that is Amy wouldn’t be open to his visitation. She blames herself for getting pregnant and not wanting to marry Jared. I believe today is the first time she admitted it.”

  “Meanwhile, all this time, Carlene and Jared have been duping Amy into a marriage of convenience. And she had no idea.”

  “She wouldn’t be the first person to be blindsided by the bling of Hollywood.”

  I felt my cell buzz, and I took the phone from my skirt. I didn’t recognize the number, but the caller’s voice, that perfect English with only the slightest trace of a Mexican accent, was all too familiar.

  “Misty, it’s Lupe. I need you to come by the house right away. The doctor and Amy are out, and you and I need to talk. I’ll tell the guard at the gate to expect you.”

  Chapter 13

  Lupe was standing beneath the portico of the Conroy mansion when Wilson and I arrived. As we entered the motor court, she pointed at a place for us to park around the side of the house, next to a bright red Tesla.

  “Go on inside. I won’t be a minute, I’ve got business to attend to in the garden. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  Wilson and I got as far as the door to the kitchen when I noticed a half-finished cup of coffee on the counter, along with the flask from which I knew she had sweetened her drink. While the kitchen appeared empty, I knew better. Sitting in the sunroom at a small café table with a deck of playing cards between them, were Wilson’s lady friends, his luminaries, Eli Conroy, and her housekeeper, Christina Munoz.

  “Ah, look who’s back. That handsome young shade.” Eli finished dealing out the cards then slapped the remaining deck on the table between them.

  “And he’s brought his psychic charge with him. How charming,” Christina said.

  “Yes, isn’t she?” Eli picked up her cards, fanned them in front of her overly made-up face, and flashed me a pasted smile. “Quite a piece of work as well, don’t you think?”

  I’d never been called out by a spirit, particularly in such a demeaning fashion. I had to fight my instinct to respond. Any reaction on my part—anger, frustration, or heaven forbid, the gre
en-eyed monster of jealousy that I felt creeping about me, the result of my overprotective nature concerning Wilson—would have interrupted my ability to communicate. I took a deep breath and reminded myself to keep my emotions in check. These two were nothing but pesky luminaries. Temporary beings, whose only interest was in themselves and whatever else they could get from those around them.

  Wilson intervened. “Misty’s a classic from the sixties. Peace beads and all. Got to love her. She means no harm.”

  Eli folded her cards. “I suppose you’re here to see Jared. Well, you’re out of luck, sweetheart. He’s not here, and I doubt he ever intends to be. Poor boy spent his life wanting to escape this place and his father and finally has. Sorry to disappoint, but you won’t find him here.”

  I took a step forward. Eli’s condescending attitude wouldn’t defeat me.

  “I didn’t expect to,” I said. “You, on the other hand, I’m more curious about.”

  “Why?” Eli returned her attention to her cards. “You think it odd the doctor’s wife and his former mistress have taken up residence? I assume your shade explained our situation?”

  “He did mention something,” I said.

  “Then you have to understand, Jared hated it here. His father made his life miserable. In the end, he was more interested in his freedom than settling any score with the man. And now he has that. Bless his heart.”

  The fact Eli hadn’t mentioned anything about Jared’s impending marriage, Amy, or his sudden death didn’t come as much of a surprise. Luminaries can only focus on themselves. Their self-centeredness makes it impossible for them to be concerned about anything that happened after their being. Everything beyond the expiration of their mortal existence was considered inconsequential. Beneath their bother. I smiled to myself. Knowledge was power, and despite their presence in the house, I felt as though the cards were stacked in my favor.

  “And you?” I asked. “You weren’t interested in leaving all this behind?” I gestured with my hand to the room around me. “This house with all its history—the rumors about your drinking, the jealous rages, the doctor’s numerous affairs—you had no desire to escape it?”

  Eli discarded a Jack of Spades. “On the contrary, it’s what keeps me here. Christina and I, we never felt things were entirely finished between the doctor and ourselves. And we can’t leave until they are.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” I asked.

  Eli laughed. “I suppose that’s up for interpretation.”

  “But, if you insist upon knowing, we’re here until we’ve settled things with the doctor.” Christina picked up the Jack of Spades and reshuffled the cards in her hands.

  “How is it you intend to do that?” I glanced back at Wilson, straddled backward on a Windsor chair, his eyes tracking our conversation like a tennis match.

  “That all depends.” Eli reshuffled her cards. “As I’m sure you know, we’re not capable of doing much more than creating, shall we say, an irritant.”

  “Such a shame.” Christina shook her head.

  “The fact is, we’re hardly able to inflict any bodily harm—”

  “Although,” Christina interrupted, “we are able to create a few minor situations where that might be an issue.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  Eli snickered and nodded to the window.

  Outside, I could see Lupe talking with a handyman. She pointed to the doctor’s private garden and looked upset. At the same moment, I noticed Madeline Conroy, dressed in a short tennis skirt, her racket in her hand, powerwalking up the path toward a gate leading to the motor court.

  “Are you referring to the doctor’s sister-in-law or the handyman?” I asked.

  “That old battle-ax?” Eli tsked. “Any more time in the sun and she’d be shoe leather. We needn’t bother with her. She has her own issues with the doctor and does quite well with them. No, look again. The handyman he’s here for the gophers. You can’t imagine how problematic they can be.”

  “Or how easily influenced they are,” Christina added.

  “Would you believe, this is the third time this month that wretched handyman’s been summoned. Those nasty little rodents keep digging up the doctor’s garden. Poor Elliott, he twisted his ankle in a hole last month. Hate to see that happen again, but those dear rodents, they just keep coming back.” Eli covered her mouth with the cards and fluttered her lashes.

  “And bird droppings. You can’t forget the bird droppings. They’re my favorite.” Christina leaned forward and tapped her long index finger on the deck of cards and waited for Eli to make her play. “Particularly when they land on the doctor’s new Bentley. He left the top down last week. Do you know what bird feces can do to fine Italian leather?”

  Eli drew a card from the deck, and with a quick smile, discarded the King of Hearts, then placed her cards on the table. “Gin! I believe I’ve won. Again.”

  I noticed a luminous green halo-like hue about the two as they picked up their cards, and like schoolgirls who had pranked their teacher, giggled.

  “And what about Amy?” I asked. “Now that she’s moved in, won’t that be a problem for you?”

  Neither answered. Instead, their eyes slid from me to the back door. We were no longer alone.

  Lupe walked in and stomped her feet on the kitchen floor. “Are you talking to yourself?”

  “No.” I scowled in the direction of the luminaries. “But I swear, sitting here all alone in this big house, I hear voices.”

  Eli and Christina shrugged and returned to their cards.

  “It’s the Santa Anas. The wind plays tricks with you this time of year. Howls like a wild animal sometimes, a baby’s cry the next. You should know that if you’re from here. Makes you think you see and hear things that don’t exist.” Lupe walked to the kitchen counter, reached for the flask, and sweetened what was left of her coffee. “You want some?”

  I shook my head.

  “You ask me that’s what got the doctor talking to himself. Some may say the man’s got a guilty conscience. Me, I think it’s just the wind driving him a little crazy.”

  “You don’t think he’s done anything to be guilty of?” I asked.

  Lupe put her cup down on the counter. “There are those who think his wife didn’t die by her own hand. But all that’s in the past and none of my business. What I think is the doctor’s stressed. That he misses his wife and people talk. Nothing but tongue-wagging by people with nothing better to do.”

  From the solarium, Eli chuckled. “God forbid anyone ever do anything more than talk.”

  Christina sniggled.

  Eli put her finger to her lips and smiled at me.

  My gaze slid back to Lupe.

  “Heaven knows the man isn’t easy.” Lupe picked up her drink, swirled what was left in the cup, then gulped it down. “Probably never was. Genius is like that.”

  “I suppose,” I said.

  “Yes, well, I didn’t invite you up here to talk about the doctor. If you’re interested in the doctor’s past, you’ll have to find that out on your own. Not from me. What I want to know is what you were really doing here the other day? And don’t tell me you’re a cop. I don’t believe you. You’re with border patrol, aren’t you? You’re an ICE agent. Admit it. You’re here to deport me.”

  “What?” Of all the things I thought Lupe might ask, the last thing I imagined was that she would think I was an ICE Agent.

  “Either that or you’re working with the cartel. You’ve found me after all these years, and you’re here to drag me back to Mexico.”

  “Wai—wai—wait a minute.” I raised my hands above my head. “You’ve got this all wrong, Lupe. I don’t know anything about any cartel, and I’m certainly not some ICE agent here to check on your immigration status. I came here the other day because of Amy.”

  “Right. And your name is Misty Dawn.
And your card says you’re a psychic. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

  I sat down at the counter. I couldn’t blame Lupe for doubting me. I had deceived her, not once but twice, and gaining her trust wasn’t going to be easy.

  “You’ve every right to wonder,” I said. “But the truth is, Amy came to me for my help. She was upset over Jared’s death. I thought if I could get inside the house, I could get a read on it. See if there were any uncomfortable spirits about that might shed some light on what happened.”

  I glanced back in the direction of the sunroom, where Wilson sat with his two lady friends. The three of them watching me talk with Lupe like we were some hot new talk show. They smiled and shrugged innocently. Clearly, neither Eli nor Christina had made any attempt to interact with Lupe and had no intention of bothering her. I turned back to Lupe.

  “Well, as you can see, there are no spirits in this house, uncomfortable or otherwise. It’s all nonsense,” Lupe said.

  “Maybe so,” I said. “But on Saturday, when I saw you at the memorial, I wasn’t lying to you. I’m not a cop, but I have worked with LAPD, and I was working with them then. A detective and I were there to check out the crowd.”

  Lupe picked up the flask and poured herself another drink. “Then why did you steal Amy’s ring? And don’t tell me you didn’t, because I know you did.”

  I reached across the counter for the flask. I don’t ordinarily drink, but now seemed like a good time, particularly with what I was about to tell her. I grabbed a wine glass from the rack above my head and emptied what remained of the brown liquid in the flask into it.

  “I didn’t trust you’d give it back to her, and I knew I would.”

  “You thought I’d take it?” Lupe put her hand on her heart and sat down.

  “I knew you were tempted, and I don’t blame you. You’re in an awkward position here with the doctor. You don’t dare leave him. Not voluntarily anyway. If you did, you’re afraid he’d report you for entering the country illegally, and you’d be deported back to Mexico. You can tell me differently, but I know your truth. You’ve nightmares about being discovered.”