I knew some people didn’t understand what I do and may even think it’s frivolous, but I suddenly realized just how much more the ladies got from these classes. It wasn’t just about relaxing and stretching. It was about being a part of a community with other women. We may have all come from different backgrounds and have different lifestyles, but we all shared a love of our pets. And this hour we spent together with our beloved dogs was a safe space, where we could let ourselves be vulnerable for a while in a world where that, more often than not, would get you hurt.
After class, Violet came up to me grinning and handed me two tickets. ‘Two tickets, front row.’
‘Oh, thank you! I forgot all about the fashion show. Front row, huh?’ I raised a brow playfully at her and then cringed at the pain that movement brought with it.
‘Yes and please don’t ask me who I had to kill to get those.’
My expression must have given away my shock because she suddenly burst out laughing. I shook my head, joining in the laughter. It felt good, even though I felt a pinch of guilt.
‘If we can’t laugh in the face of tragedy, Elle, we’re letting it win.’ She winked at me.
‘Well, thank you,’ I said, clearing my throat and feeling lighter. ‘For the tickets, too. It gives me something to look forward to.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Hey, how’s Zebina holding up?’ I’d noticed her absence in class.
Violet shook her head. ‘I haven’t heard from her since Robert’s memorial in Tampa on Friday. I think she just needs some time to grieve.’
I nodded. ‘Of course.’ I hated that I missed Robert’s memorial and a chance to say a proper goodbye to him. It would be hard not to remember him the way I saw him last. An involuntary tremor ran through me. Shaking off the image, I called to Buddha and flicked off the studio lights behind the last client.
I tried to help out around the spa as much as I could, but before my four o’clock class, I had to give in and rest in a suite. With Buddha snoring happily beside me on the bed, I set the alarm on my phone and fell into a deep sleep.
Images of Celeste rising out of the mud, pointing her finger and screaming at me that it was my fault Robert was dead, haunted my dreams. Then Robert came to me, and he was trying to tell me something but no sound was coming from his mouth. I was trying so hard to read his lips. Then he began to turn purple, clutching at his neck.
I awoke with a jolt. Buddha lifted his head and stared at me, his ears alert. I sat up, trying to calm my jagged breathing. That was so real. Buddha pushed himself up, his paws sinking in the luxurious mattress as he trudged over to lie against me. I slid my arm around his wide girth and buried my face in his fur. The comfort was immediate. ‘Thank you, boy.’
After class, I decided to go pay Hope a visit. She wasn’t answering her phone or returning my calls, which was worrying me.
I wrestled my Beetle’s convertible top into place, a rather tedious manual process which I usually avoided by leaving the top down in the parking garage, but the attack made me see the gravity of my situation. I needed to be more cautious. A good knock on the head will do that, I suppose, though I was trying not to let it make me a paranoid freak. I didn’t need another phobia.
Suddenly I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A shadow behind one of the cars. A cream Mercedes three parking spaces down was one of a half dozen cars left on this level and yep, there was definitely a shadow moving behind it. Was someone crouched there? The hairs stood up on my arms and adrenalin rushed through my body. Trying to breathe quietly, I leaned into the passenger seat, opened the glove box and pulled out the gun. ‘Stay, Buddha.’ No time to grab the bullets from the trunk, but I didn’t actually want to shoot anyone anyway, just let them know they couldn’t mess with me.
Abandoning my flip-flops so I could tiptoe quietly toward the back of the Mercedes, I clutched the gun in both hands, finger off the trigger like Devon had drilled into me, and snuck up on the shadow. As I got closer, I could hear a scraping sound. And breathing. My legs trembled with adrenalin but I managed to stay upright. Almost there.
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I jumped out from behind the car and yelled, ‘Freeze!’
‘Aaaaa!’ A scream and then I was pelted in the face with what felt like a handful of pebbles. Mrs Obermeyer had fallen back on the ground in her cream pants suite. Staring up at me, she clutched her pearls to her heart with one hand and held herself upright with the other. I stood above her with the gun still pointed at her. Our round, terrified eyes were locked.
‘Oh, my god!’ I breathed, finally dropping the gun to my side and reaching down to help her up. ‘Mrs Obermeyer, I’m so sorry!’
Her Pomeranian poked its tiny head up inside the car and began yipping at me through the driver’s side window. Mrs Obermeyer took my offered hand reluctantly, still eyeing me and my gun with suspicion. Her complexion was whiter than her hair.
‘Elle?’ She leaned against her car to catch her breath. ‘What in heaven’s name are you doing sneaking up on me … with a gun? Is that thing real?’
Closing my eyes in utter mortification, I pressed my lips together and nodded. ‘It’s … it’s not loaded. I’m so … so sorry.’ Opening my eyes I tried to explain my utter paranoia, the same paranoia I’d just convinced myself moments ago I’d successfully avoided. ‘I saw the shadow and thought you were someone hiding behind the car, waiting to … you know, attack me.’
She was still staring at me with wide eyes behind thick glasses. ‘Attack you? No,’ she said, her voice noticeably shaky. She held up her hand. In it she clutched a tin mint can. ‘Just dropped my mints. Was trying to clean them up.’
Nodding, I dropped my head. Then plucked a mint from where it had lodged itself in the top of my tank top. Not pebbles then. ‘Mints. Right.’ I was an idiot. ‘Please tell me how I can make this up to you,’ I pleaded. I knew the woman was in her mid-eighties. I could have given the poor thing a heart attack.
She reached behind her and opened the car door. It dinged as the light came on, and she struggled into the soft caramel leather seat, nudging her still yipping dog to the other seat. Waving a shaking hand at me, she said, ‘Not necessary. Just—’ she glanced once more at the gun in my hand – ‘maybe get that head injury checked out, dear.’
She shut the door, and I jumped out of the way as she punched the gas and squealed the tires trying to get away. From me. I just scared the living hell out of an eighty-year-old woman. Way to go, Elle.
Tossing the gun back into the glove box, I plopped into the driver’s seat and leaned my head against the worn vinyl. Buddha licked my hand. I stroked his head and groaned. OK, shake off the humiliation. It was time to check on Hope.
TWENTY-TWO
Hope answered the door in a stained T-shirt; her hair matted down like it hadn’t been washed for a week, and the only color to her face was the red rimming her eyelids.
‘Hope,’ I gasped, pulling her into a hug. Her naturally thin frame now felt like sharp, pokey angles as I held her. ‘Oh, Hope.’ I closed the door behind me, let Buddha off his leash and pulled her deeper into the house and up the spiral staircase. ‘No. You’re not going to do this to yourself.’
A mix of sorrow and anger fueled my actions as I deposited her on her bed and then went to run her a hot bath. My tears fell into the bubbles as I leaned over to turn off the water. Get a grip, Elle. She needs a strong friend right now. Taking a few deep breaths, I concentrated on what needed to be done at the moment.
‘Come on.’ I pulled Hope from the edge of the bed, where she had sat and stared at the pile of laundry on the floor since I had put her there. ‘You’re going to take a hot bath while I make you something to eat.’ As I helped her into the tub, her expression finally cracked, and she broke into sobs.
‘Oh, Elle, I’m so scared. Ira has himself locked up in his office just waiting for them to arrest him on new murder charges. Reed Black said when this happens, there will be no bail. He’
ll have to stay in jail until the trial. But the worst thing is Ira’s not talking to me. He’s never done that. We’ve always said we can handle anything as long as we do it together, so why is he pushing me away?’
‘I’m sure he’s just scared and doesn’t want you to see him like that. This is such a nightmare, Hope. But, we’re going to get through it.’ I prayed to the universe that was true. ‘You may just have to give him some space right now. I mean, the prospect of being rearrested on murder charges is terrifying him, I’m sure.’
She swiped at her nose with a hand covered in bubbles and met my gaze with swollen eyes. ‘No, you don’t understand. When I say he won’t talk to me … I mean he’s never shut me out before and I feel like …’ Her mouth twisted in agony as she whispered, ‘I feel like he’s hiding something from me.’
‘Like what? Hope, you don’t believe he got careless and made a mistake, do you? Because we’ve talked about this. Ira is the best at what he does—’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I still believe your theory that someone tried to frame him by killing Celeste after she left his office. But, I just feel so guilty because I’m letting my imagination run wild. I mean, just because he’s shutting me out and acting secretive shouldn’t make me suspicious of the man I love. I know this. I just … need him to talk to me!’
As she sat there in the bathwater, sobbing and letting out all the grief that she’d been holding in, I gently washed her hair, massaging her scalp to release the tension. ‘Oh, Hope. Just think about that trip to Greece. It will happen as planned so imagine being there, sharing a great meal, holding hands and having all this mess behind you.’
I ran some warm, fresh water to rinse her hair. ‘Tell you what. Why don’t we drag him out of that office and have a sit down heart-to-heart with him. You can tell him what you just told me, and I’ll be right there beside you for support.’
‘No!’ Her eyes widened. She looked so much like that scared little new girl, who’d moved to my neighborhood twenty-some years ago, it almost broke me. ‘I don’t want him to think I have any doubts about him at all.’
‘OK then. I’ll ask. It’ll come from me.’ I poured clear water over her hair and watched her shoulders fall.
‘OK.’
‘OK. Now, I’m going to go make you something to eat and then we’re going to have a conversation with Ira. Get all this out on the table.’
Leaning back in the tub with a sigh and sinking into the water, she nodded. ‘Thanks, Elle.’
Rummaging through her fridge, I could tell food hadn’t been a priority for them lately. Buddha followed, sniffing at the spot in the kitchen where they used to keep Jelly-Belly’s bowls, then plopped himself on the cool tile, looking up at me with sad eyes. ‘I know. I miss him, too.’ I pulled out some wilted spinach, mushrooms and eggs. Omelet it was.
As the eggs cooked, I cleaned up around the kitchen. It looked like the maid hadn’t been here for a while, either. What was that about? Hetti would never let the place look like this.
As I finished loading mostly coffee mugs into the dishwasher and turned it on, Hope came into the kitchen in a bathrobe, her wet hair slicked away from her pale face.
‘You don’t have to do that, Elle.’ Sliding into a chair at the table, she scratched at her forearm. ‘I haven’t found a new maid yet. Hetti quit. Said she couldn’t work in a house that had such bad karma.’
Whirling around, I stared at her. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yep.’
Chuckling, I cut the huge omelet in half and transferred it to two plates. ‘Well, look on the bright side,’ I said, putting the plates on the table and sitting down. ‘You’ll get a chance to hire someone who won’t steal your sugar and flour.’
Hope shrugged and then shot me an annoyed look as I stopped her from scratching at her already raw skin. ‘I never really minded that. Figured if she needed it that badly, more power to her.’ Obediently she chewed and swallowed. I doubted she tasted it. ‘That’s the hardest thing about all this though … well, besides Ira having to close his practice doors. It’s everybody assuming he’s guilty. People who’ve been in our lives and should know him better. Makes me wonder if we had any real friends at all.’
‘Hey!’ I held out my hands. ‘What am I? Chopped liver?’
Hope’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she finally let herself smile. It was nice to see. ‘More like chopped organic kale. When did you get to be such a hippy?’
I laughed, more in relief at her feeling up to making a joke. ‘I’m not a hippy. I’m just trying to keep all my parts and pieces together. It’s hard work. Especially after thirty.’
Hope raised a sparse brow. ‘Tell me about it.’
We finished eating and after muttering, ‘Here goes nothing,’ Hope went to fetch Ira from his office with the excuse that I needed to update him on Devon’s investigation. Which wasn’t a lie but wasn’t our motive for getting him out of his self-induced isolation, either.
I made myself comfortable on their leather living room sofa, which threatened to swallow me whole, as I tried to figure out exactly what to say to Ira. Too soon, Hope was back with Ira straggling in behind her. I tried not to react to his appearance. He looked as bad as Hope had with his disheveled, wrinkled clothes and thin, pale face. I should have made an extra omelet.
‘Hello, Ira.’ I stood and gave him a hug, instinctively being careful, though it wasn’t his physical frailty that concerned me as much as his mental.
Releasing me quickly, as if afraid of human touch, he reached down and scratched Buddha behind the ear. He tried to smile but failed miserably. ‘Good to see you up and about, Elle. We were extremely worried about you.’ Finally making eye contact, he looked sternly at me. ‘Hope told me the person who attacked you was probably the one who murdered Robert Green. I would’ve hoped you’d distanced yourself from this investigation by now.’
It was my turn to force a smile. ‘I definitely learned my lesson.’ Well, I had. I knew I had to be way more careful now. I may have been naive before about exactly how much danger I was in, but I was a fast learner and apparently really good at being paranoid. I mentally cringed at the image of me pointing a gun at Mrs Obermeyer.
Shaking his head, he went to the bar and poured himself a drink of amber liquid. ‘Ladies? Care to join me? It’s the best cognac on the market.’
‘Sure,’ Hope answered. Her glance told me she was looking for some liquid courage.
Not a bad idea. I accepted his offer, also.
He handed us each a glass and then took a seat in the overstuffed leather chair across from us. I swallowed a swig of the smooth, amber fluid and let it warm my insides.
‘So, Hope says you have news?’
‘Yes. As you know, the night Robert was killed, I was meeting him because he said he had something to show me he felt was related to Celeste’s death. What you don’t know is when I got there, there was a folder of jewelry appraisals sitting on his passenger seat. I have no idea what it means, but Devon is hoping the police will let him take a look at them for any clues. But the main point here is, I hope you’ll see the silver lining in this. Robert believed there may have been a reason Celeste was killed, and it didn’t have anything to do with you. I’ve explained this to Detective Farnsworth. This, along with the Botox bottle I found in the parking garage, and the fact that Robert was also killed with Botox, should give them enough doubt about you to start looking in a different direction.’ I was explaining this as much for Hope’s benefit as for Ira’s. She needed to hear the facts laid out to assuage any seeds of doubt she had about her husband’s innocence.
Ira was very still, chewing on the inside of his lip. Finally, he nodded. ‘Unless they try to pin Robert’s murder on me, too. Since no one can vouch for me being in my office at the time.’ He glanced apologetically at Hope.
‘Right. There’s that.’ I took a swig of the cognac. Well, I did my best to address a murder charge, but there was still the existing manslaughter charge. Despi
te the fact that neither Hope nor I were willing to entertain the idea that Ira could’ve screwed up that royally, the fact remained that the police did believe it was possible. And no matter what Hope said she believed, obviously this whole situation was making her beliefs unstable. I couldn’t blame her.
Here goes nothing. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. ‘Ira, I know what an excellent surgeon you are, so please don’t take this as me doubting you in the least. But, why in the world do the police think they have a manslaughter case against you? I mean, doesn’t Botox work immediately? Wouldn’t Celeste have had difficulty breathing before she even left your office?’ I waited for Ira to answer, but he just dropped his head, so I continued, making sure to convey patience and understanding. ‘Devon and I figured out it would’ve taken Celeste about five or six minutes to get to the parking garage from your office and down to the mudbath room, where she collapsed. Doesn’t that prove she didn’t receive the fatal injection in your office?’
Ira rolled his head back and forth and then lifted it with effort. After a few uncomfortable glances between me and Hope, he rubbed the back of his neck.
‘Unfortunately, no. We know Botox does spread to the brain and nearby muscle and tissue. That’s why it’s so important to get the dosage and targeted muscles right.’ He looked pained suddenly and the look he gave Hope made my heart ache. ‘So, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the toxin spread to her larynx. I give conservative doses but it only takes seventy-five nanograms to kill a person.’
Faux Pas Page 15