THE HOUSE THAT VANITY BUILT

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THE HOUSE THAT VANITY BUILT Page 23

by Nancy Cole Silverman


  I took a seat next to her.

  “Because, Amy, sometimes the universe has a way of setting things straight. I think when the doctor reworked Jared’s trust fund and named himself the baby’s trustee, he inevitably signed his own death warrant.” I couldn’t share with Amy the concern the luminaries had shared with me about the baby’s trust, how they had tried to convince me to kill the doctor. Or that they had successfully persuaded Wilson to carry out their plan. All that mattered was that I convince Amy it was nature’s way of balancing out good and evil.

  “But what am I supposed to do?” Amy asked.

  I looked at Jared, I knew without his saying what he wanted. The power of thought, like light, can transfer from a spirit to a human mind, and the words came from me as though they were his own.

  “Live here,” I said. “It’s what Jared wants.”

  “Jared? Is he here?”

  I nodded. “He is. And he will be, temporarily anyway. He wants me to tell you he’s sorry. He says he was selfish, and he feels like he interrupted your life. He wants you to be happy.”

  Amy’s eyes started to well with tears.

  “He’s asking if you would help him.”

  “How?” Amy shook her head.

  “He’s anxious to make amends, to you, and to those he harmed, but he needs your help. As I said before, he’s only here temporarily, and the sooner you can help him, the quicker his transformation can take place.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t need to. All you need to do is follow his instructions,”

  “Like what?”

  “He’d like for you to help Lupe, keep her on as your housekeeper. He’s always liked her. Says she’s a good woman. And if you don’t mind, he thinks it’d be a good idea if you’d let Carlene move into the guest house.”

  I looked at Carlene. I didn’t feel it my place to fill in the blanks about Carlene’s history or how she had set Jared up with Amy. I’d leave that to Carlene to explain when she felt the time was right.

  “And, he says it’s okay if you let Billy move in.” Amy looked puzzled. “Jared knew you were still in love with Billy. You may not have known it, but he did. It’s why he accepted Billy as part of his rat pack. He knew the two of you weren’t going to last. He needed you to secure his trust fund and get away from his father. The marriage would have been a sham. You didn’t know it, but Jared felt that maybe one day you might need Billy again, and he wanted Billy to be close by to pick up the pieces. Jared wants you to know you have his blessings.”

  Romero crossed the room and squatted down in front of Amy. I wasn’t sure he had heard any of my conversation with Amy or if he had if he believed it. But the message he had for Amy was reassuring.

  “Amy, there’s no reason for the police to hold Billy any longer. After we arrested Mr. Toscana, we started the paperwork to release Billy. My guess is by now he’s free and on the way back to Carpinteria. That is unless you call him.”

  I stood up. My job was done here. Amy, Carlene, and Matthew had a lot to talk about and a lifetime ahead of them to figure it all out. I knew Jared would hang around for a while, but not for long. As for Wilson, I wasn’t sure if his job was done as well. I didn’t see him anywhere. Had he left with the luminaries or had the universe snatched him up because he had interfered with the doctor’s plan to shoot me?

  I wandered back to the kitchen. I hoped I might find Wilson in the solarium. Instead, Williams joined me.

  “Mind if I have a word?”

  “Not at all.” I took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. I knew before Williams asked what it was he wanted to know.

  “You busted me back there.”

  “It wasn’t personal,” I said.

  “All the same, I made a mistake. I didn’t ask Dr. Conroy where he was the night Jared died. How did you know that?”

  I thought about telling him the truth. That I had seen the whole thing in my mind as soon as Matthew started talking about the party and Jared’s final moments, but I knew Williams wouldn’t believe me.

  “The police chief,” I said. “You’re young and new on the job. Smiley gave you too much leeway, and you were anxious to impress him. He probably should have been looking over your shoulder more, but the doctor was an influential friend of the department. Neither of you was about to challenge that. You aren’t the first detective to make a mistake on an investigation, and you won’t be the last. But you won’t make the same mistake twice. I’m sure of it.”

  Williams pointed back to the great room. “One more question. Out there, with Amy, did you really see Jared’s spirit, or were you just telling her to make her feel better?”

  “You think I’d do that?”

  “I’m not sure what I believe anymore, not after what I’ve seen tonight. But I don’t buy that those bees attacked the doctor accidentally. You had something to do with that, didn’t you?”

  I finished my water and put the glass down on the counter.

  “If I answered that you’d have to arrest me. Although, I suppose it wouldn’t matter if you did. As Romero’s so fond of saying, unless it’s something he can carry into court and convince a jury with, he’s not interested. But in answer to your question, no, it wasn’t me.”

  Romero joined us in the kitchen.

  “Misty, you going to need a ride? I saw the Jag out beyond the back gate and called Denise. I thought maybe she might drive you home.”

  I knew better than to let Denise drive Wilson’s Jag. I grabbed my bag off the kitchen counter. If I pushed the seat forward, I felt certain I could drive myself.

  “I appreciate the concern, Detective, but I’m fine. You needn’t worry. If it’s all the same, I’ll bid you goodnight and be on my way. It’s been a long day, and I think I’d enjoy the drive home alone. Lots to think about.”

  I was pleased Romero didn’t argue. In hindsight, I felt Denise would be pleased as well. I knew she would be anxious to spend time with the detective alone and full of questions I’d rather not answer. Better him than me.

  I took the path back toward the garage. The firemen were still cleaning up, and the guard gate that Wilson and I had come through earlier that night was wide open. Beyond it, the Jag sat beside the fence. In the moonlight, with the top up and windows rolled down, it looked deserted.

  I stopped at the gate and glanced back at the house. There’s a toll on some missions. It’s not possible to stay focused on the other side of the veil without feeling drained. I felt empty, dehydrated of my energy, and tired beyond what I knew sleep could repair. This was more than mission-exhaust. This was something else. This was loss. A deep personal loss. Wilson was gone.

  I walked through the gate, and as I approached the Jag, the headlights flickered.

  “Wilson!”

  I quickened my step and put my hand on the door. When I opened it, Wilson was behind the wheel, looking very pleased with himself. “How could you!”

  “Nice to see you too, Old Gal.”

  “You know you shouldn’t have done that,” I scolded.

  “What? Free the bees? Sic them on the doctor? Is that what’s got you all in a dither? Would you have preferred I let the doctor shoot you?”

  “He might have missed,” I said. “And the police were on the way. I could hear the sirens.”

  “Sorry, Old Gal. Couldn’t risk it. There wasn’t time.” Wilson put the key in the ignition.

  “You may have risked more,” I said. “Ordering the bees to kill the doctor was against the rules. Ghosts can’t interfere. They must never cause the death of a mortal. You know that.”

  “Yes, but I’m still here, aren’t I? And as you’ve pointed out so many times, I’m not a ghost. I’m only a shade, a temporary being at best. Perhaps your universal spirit wasn’t watching or will count it a learning experience and forgive me.”


  I fastened my seatbelt.

  I didn’t like it when Wilson parroted back to me my own words. He had changed. I wondered if he felt it too. When we started out, he was nothing but a thorn in my side—a self-centered being whose life revolved around his fancy cars and expensive collectibles. But now, judging from his actions—saving me from the doctor—he was no longer the same man. There was a newness about him, a selflessness. All shades change. Our time together was growing short. I should have been happy, but instead, I was worried. Our next time could be out last.

  “I hope so, Wilson. I really hope so.”

  About the Author

  Nancy Cole Silverman credits her twenty-five years in news and talk radio for helping her to develop an ear for storytelling. But it wasn’t until after she retired that she was able to write fiction full-time. Much of what Silverman writes about is pulled from events that were reported on from inside some of Los Angeles’ busiest newsrooms where she spent the bulk of her career. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Bruce, and her standard poodle, Ali.

  Mysteries by Nancy Cole Silverman

  The Misty Dawn Mystery Series

  THE HOUSE ON HALLOWED GROUND (#1)

  THE HOUSE THAT VANITY BUILT (#2)

  The Carol Childs Mystery Series

  SHADOW OF DOUBT (#1)

  BEYOND A DOUBT (#2)

  WITHOUT A DOUBT (#3)

  ROOM FOR DOUBT (#4)

  REASON TO DOUBT (#5)

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