Glossed and Found

by India Ink

  “When will he be in court?” I asked. “I want to be there.”

  “Not a good idea. I tell you what, I’ll go down to the court this afternoon and call you the minute the judge sets bail. Will you let me do this for you?”

  I paused. I had to meet Candy anyway. And the truth was, I really didn’t want to see Elliot. Strike that. I wanted to see him tied to a pole, covered in honey, and skewered on an anthill.

  “Thanks, Kyle. I appreciate it,” I said. Maybe Auntie was right. Maybe I had to let people help me out once in awhile, instead of always being the one with the answers. I wasn’t sure I liked it. The thought of accepting help scared me, and if I was honest, it hurt my ego. But then again, weren’t growing pains supposed to hurt a little bit?

  Auntie glanced at me as she turned onto Driftwood Lane. “You did a good thing, Persia. Sometimes, you have to let go.” She pulled up in front of Amy and Lisa’s house. “Here we are. I’d stay, but I’d better get you a rental car. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  As I walked toward the door, I wondered just what the hell I was going to say to Amy. She opened the door, her face puffy and covered with tears, and I realized that more than anything she just needed a friend to sit with her. To be there and not to try to fix anything. I held out my good arm and, wrapping it around her shoulders, we turned and walked into the living room.

  Chapter Ten

  Amy’s face was stained with tears and mascara drips, and she looked so fragile that I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her safe, but my shoulder hurt too much for that, so I just gave her a squeeze as we walked into the kitchen.

  “Kyle isn’t sure it’s her. He hasn’t seen . . . her, so don’t assume. Just wait until we know for certain.” We sat down at the table where I pushed aside a box half full of tissues, a cup of cold coffee, and a half-eaten doughnut. “Is this all you’ve had to eat this morning?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I can’t eat. Not now. What if it’s her? What if we were wrong, and she did drown?”

  Then we were both off base, I thought, but I didn’t say anything. I pushed myself up from the table and cleared away her coffee cup and leftover pastry and put the kettle on for tea. There was a box of orange spice tea on the counter, and I poked around in the cupboards until I found two mugs and dropped tea bags into them, filling them with the steaming water. As the scent of orange peel and cinnamon filled the air, I opened her refrigerator and found a cup of yogurt and sat it in front of her with a spoon.

  “This will be easy on your stomach. You need some protein. Try to eat a few spoonfuls, would you?”

  She fretted but took the cover off and, glancing at me with a puzzled look, slowly began to eat. “What happened to you, Persia? You’re hurt.”

  “Yeah, I got winged by a bullet last night. Apparently my ex-boyfriend decided making my life miserable just wasn’t payback enough for the fact that I dumped him when he got busted and sent to prison for awhile. He showed up at the house with a revolver and a grudge.”

  I gingerly pulled the shoulder of my shirt down just enough to show her the bruise and bandage. She gasped.

  “He’s in jail, and I’m incapacitated. Auntie’s off to the rental place to rent me a car, because Elliot also smashed up my windshield, as well as one of the shopwindows yesterday. I guess being hauled in by Kyle for vandalism pissed him off because that was when he brainstormed this little charade.”

  “I’m so sorry I bothered you,” Amy said, paling even further. “I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked you to come over—”

  “Nonsense,” I said, giving her a slow smile. “Your sister is my friend, and I care about what happens to her. And I honestly believe she’s still alive somewhere. But on the off chance we’re wrong about that, I want to be here for support.”

  Amy managed a small smile as she stood to answer a knock at the door. It was Kyle, come to take us to the morgue. I followed him as he wrapped his arm around Amy and led her out to the squad car. We both clambered in the back. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d been sitting in the back of this same car, cuffed for breaking Elliot’s nose. So much had gone on since then.

  We rode in silence as Kyle sedately drove through the streets and pulled into the hospital parking garage. We took the elevator to the lower level, Amy, clutching her bag white-knuckled, had a look of pure terror on her face. I scooted next to her and put my arm around her shoulder and squeezed. She gave me a grateful look, and we silently stepped out of the elevator car and followed Kyle down the hall.

  The doors to the morgue were gray metal, leading into a large room that was chill to the point of cold. A row of what looked like small, square lockers was built into one wall. No doubt to hold bodies, I thought. The room was lined with counters and cupboards, sterile white with an off tinge of blue. Blue was supposed to be peaceful, but here it just made the room seem a lot colder.

  Covering the counter space were jars filled with strange-looking objects—I didn’t want to know what—and sparkling clean surgical instruments lined up on a tray and files and charts. The air in the morgue felt muffled, like being inside during a heavy snowstorm—set apart from the rest of the world and immune to the noise and bustle going on outside of the doors.

  Amy swayed, and I was glad I’d gotten her to eat something. I buoyed her up, sliding my good arm through hers to give her extra support. Kyle motioned to the technician, who was clad in a mint green lab coat and a pair of white scrubs. He blinked, then gestured for us to follow him over to one of the cloth-draped tables. By the looks of the shape under the cloth, it was obviously somebody’s temporary resting place.

  The figure beneath the sheet was still as ice, not a flutter of material from breath or heartbeat. The sheet was pristine, clean beyond bleaching, and I realized then that although I’d seen dead bodies a few times before, I’d seen them where they fell, not in this state—under observation, irrefutably dead.

  Amy steeled herself, her body going rigid next to mine as the tech asked softly, “Are you ready?”

  Kyle moved to flank her other side, and I saw that his arm was linked through her other arm. Together, we’d catch her if necessary. She held her breath, nodding, and the technician drew back the sheet.

  The woman was about Lisa’s age, with blonde hair in a similar hairstyle, but she wasn’t Lisa. Even I could see that, although her face had been battered by rocks and waves. Her eyes were glassy, vacant, and I relaxed, wondering who the poor soul had been. She would remain a mystery for awhile longer.

  Amy let out a sharp breath, almost swooning as she shook her head. Her voice trembled with both joy and tears as she said, “No, that’s not her—that’s not my Lisa.”

  I nodded to Kyle. “She’s right, that isn’t Lisa.”

  He motioned, and the tech covered the body again as we turned away. “I’m so sorry to bring you down here, Amy. You, too, Persia, but we had to make certain, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to make a mistake. We don’t have any fingerprints on record for whoever this is, and nobody’s been reported missing that’s around this age except for . . . Lisa.”

  “I understand,” Amy said, her face a blend of rapture and sorrow. “But what happened to this woman? Did she drown?”

  “Looks that way, but as I said, we don’t know who she is,” Kyle said. “She was found up the coastline a little, but the currents have been strong, and we thought . . .”

  “You thought that Lisa might have fallen in, and her body was swept up the coast,” I said, trying to be of help. “Well, you’d better start putting out notices that you have an unidentified drowning victim.”

  “Yeah,” Kyle said. “I’ll call in a sketch artist today to get started, and we’ll notify the papers and news stations.”

  We exited the hospital, and Kyle drove us back to Amy’s. “I’m just going to drop you girls off, because it’s almost time for Elliot’s bail bond hearing. I promised Persia I’d be there,” he added, speaking to Amy.
>
  I swallowed hard. “Don’t let the judge free him, Kyle, because—if there is a next time—I won’t hesitate to do whatever I need to in order to protect myself. You understand what I’m saying?”

  He nodded. “I’ll do what I can, Persia,” he said. And yet, I heard an inflection in his voice that told me he couldn’t make any promises. We climbed out of the car and headed for the door. Auntie wasn’t back yet, so I followed Amy inside. She washed her face and opened the cupboard.

  “I’m ravenous all of a sudden. Lisa’s not dead . . . or at least, we have more hope than we did an hour ago,” she said, her voice faltering. “Two people couldn’t drown in the same storm, could they? You don’t think that she was with a friend and they were both swept off the pier?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really. I suppose it could happen, but remember that your sister was terrified of water. She wouldn’t be out there walking, especially on a stormy night. Now, fix yourself something to eat.”

  She nodded, slowly pulling out a can of soup. “Would you like some chicken noodle soup? It’s Olianto’s.” Olianto was a new brand that had recently come out; excellent organic products that truly tasted like they were homemade.

  “I’d love some,” I said, feeling hungry, too. Nothing like looking death in the face to make you appreciate being alive. And life meant sustenance, which meant food. Amy opened the can and poured it in a saucepan, then set it to heating while she found the dinner rolls and popped four in the microwave. I asked her where the bowls and saucers were, and set the table.

  As we ate the steaming soup and warm rolls, I told Lisa I was meeting with Candy Harrison, and that she’d been the last woman to get a makeover from Lisa on Friday. Amy looked surprised.

  “Candy? I can’t believe Lisa would give her a makeover,” she said.

  “Why? Candy sounded like a bubblehead, but I didn’t get the impression she was bitchy.”

  Amy blinked. “Don’t you know who Candy is?”

  “A nurse, my aunt told me. She works for Annabel Mason.” At Amy’s snort, I frowned. “What? What am I missing?”

  “Candy worked for our father before he died. She was his private nurse during his last months. I’m not a big fan of hers—God knows she’s annoying, but she does seem to know her job. But Lisa took an instant dislike to her for some reason. I’m surprised she even agreed to stay in the same room with Candy.”

  I put down my spoon. Now, this was an interesting turn of events and the first potential lead we’d had. “Are you sure? How odd. Candy told me she barely knew Lisa.”

  “Oh, she knew her all right. I ran interference. I’m not sure just why Lisa disliked her so much. Lisa likes almost everybody, so it was a shock when she was so rude to Candy. Let me know what she says,” she added, picking up her spoon again. “I can’t imagine it was a good meeting.”

  As I was wondering just what to think about the matter, a noise interrupted my thoughts. Amy peeked out the window. “Your aunt’s here, and there’s another car behind her.”

  I bustled outside to find Auntie standing near Baby, while a young man in a suit climbed out of the driver’s seat of a brand-new dark silver Acura RL. He handed me the keys, and I saw a temporary license plate taped in the back window.

  “Auntie—” I started to say, but she beamed.

  “I know your car was getting old, and since we’re almost at the end of the year, this was on sale. So, happy early birthday, my girl. You mentioned wanting to get one of these.” The look on her face was priceless, and I rushed over to give her a hug, grimacing when I got a little too happy and hit my shoulder against her.

  “Oh, Auntie! I love it—it’s wonderful, and the color I wanted, too!” I skirted the car, beaming. No more convertible, but no more chancing rain or breaking down as often, either.

  “What about Lisa?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts as she handed me the new insurance papers.

  Amy answered for me. “It wasn’t Lisa they found, so we’re back to square one.” She looked at me, though, and I knew she was thinking about our conversation about Candy. Maybe the nurse would be able to shed some light. Maybe Lisa had gotten in a huff and took off over something they argued about.

  “I’m glad to hear that, my girl,” Auntie said. “I was so worried when Persia told me. We’ll find her yet. You just wait and see.”

  “I want to believe that,” Amy said faintly. “I have to believe that. Persia, are you going to finish lunch with me?”

  I glanced at the car. It would be here when I finished eating. “Yeah, I want to ask you some more about Candy.” I turned to Auntie. “Thank you again, Auntie, it’s perfect. The perfect gift! I never expected this.”

  She smiled then, a broad, infectious grin. “I know, Imp. I know. That’s why I love buying things for you. You never assume I should get you anything, so it’s always fun to see your face. Now, finish what you have to do, and be careful when you drive. With your arm sore, your reflexes will be slow. Just take it easy and promise me you’ll be careful.”

  I promised and headed back inside with Amy as Auntie climbed into her Baby and drove the salesman back to the lot.

  After I finished eating, I spent a few minutes familiarizing myself with the inside of my new car. Auntie had gotten it registered for me, there was a bottle of water in the cup holder, a jack and spare tire in the trunk, and assorted goodies in the glove compartment. I glanced at the clock. Time to head out to meet Candy.

  The coffee shop where we’d agreed to meet was almost full, but it was easy enough to pick her out in the crowd. She looked just like she’d sounded on the phone. Platinum bleached blonde hair pulled back in a puffy ponytail with little-girl bangs covering her brow, a figure that had been either enhanced or treated to the finest uplift support system in the world, fringed lashes reminiscent of Tammy Faye Baker, and garish red lipstick that didn’t suit her coloring at all. She should have used a peach or a dusty rose.

  What didn’t match were her clothes. She was wearing a linen sheath that had to have come out of a Seattle boutique, and she was wearing Jazmin Royz, an expensive perfume that was only available in a few specialty shops throughout the U.S. Made with real jasmine oil, the perfume cost over three hundred dollars per quarter ounce and was made in limited quantities. And she was wearing the actual perfume. Jazmin Royz didn’t come in an eau de toilette spray.

  She eyed me as I sat down, little in the way of friendliness in her eyes.

  “Persia,” she said, looking me up and down with an appraising eye. It wasn’t a question. She blinked, and I had the sudden desire to swat her because her eyelashes reminded me of a centipede.

  I nodded. “Candy? I wanted—”

  “I know, you wanted to ask me about Lisa Tremont. First, you should know that I used to work for her father. And second, you should know she doesn’t like me very much.” Candy spilled everything out in a whirl of words.

  My turn to blink. “Oh?” I wondered if she remembered she’d told me she barely knew who Lisa was. I decided not to say anything and just hear her out; if she thought I suspected her of lying, she might be more cautious about saying anything. “May I ask why?”

  Candy preened. “A lot of women are jealous of me.

  Maybe she thought her daddy liked me more than he liked her.”

  The way she said daddy made me cringe. I stared at the woman, wondering just what it took to inflate an ego to that size, because regardless of what she thought, Candy was no sex goddess.

  “And why would she think that?” I asked softly. There was something off-putting about the woman, and I couldn’t put my finger on it, other than I found her coarse and cheap despite the clothes and perfume, like a rhinestone set in twenty-four-karat gold.

  She darted a glance at the clock. “Oh, no reason. You know how some girls get around beautiful women. They’re insecure over everything.”

  I leaned back in my chair, staring at her, wondering what the hell was going on in her head. Candy gave me a superficia
l smile.

  “So what did you want to know about Lisa?”

  “First, why did you go to her for a makeover, knowing she didn’t like you?” Something was out of place, and I wanted to know what.

  “Because she’s the best on the island. Even if we don’t get along very well, business is business. And I wanted to look good for a date Friday night.” She shrugged. “Besides, Lisa needed the money.”

  “Did Lisa say anything about what she was going to do this weekend? Anything about plans she might have made?” I was pretty sure I was talking up a dead-end alley, and it didn’t take long to prove me right.

  “I wasn’t really paying much attention. I was just there to get my makeup done, and that’s all. She did my face, I paid her, that’s it. After all, we aren’t exactly the best of friends.” She stood up, gathering her purse. “I have to get going. Nice meeting you,” she said.

  As I watched her sashay out of the door, I wondered just what kind of man would date Candy Harrison. Whoever it was, I didn’t think I’d like him.

  When I walked into the police station, I caught Kyle as he was eating a sandwich. I fingered the dieffenbachia that was sitting on a low table.

  “A little late for lunch, isn’t it? And if you don’t repot this plant, it’s going to die. I bet you haven’t put it in a different container since you bought it, have you?” The poor thing was root-bound, four feet high and trying to grow.

  “I didn’t get a chance to eat because I was at Elliot’s bail hearing, and I don’t know anything about taking care of the plant. Shanna waters them. I’ll leave a note for her. How tall will that thing get, anyway?” He put down his BLT and wiped his fingers on a napkin.

  “As tall as the ceiling, and then you’ll have to prune it. Just don’t let anybody chew on it. This is a dumb cane. Also known as a mother-in-law’s plant.” I grinned.

  “What happens if I eat it?” he said, sounding genuinely curious.