by Adele Dubois
Inside her dressing room her heart pounded as she rooted inside her purse for her cell phone. She would call Tomas and promise to cancel any future ménages. To never hold another sex party. If it meant holding on to him, she would do what had once seemed impossible. Beyond her capability.
Crystal would promise fidelity.
When she finished showering and changing her clothes, Crystal turned out her dressing room lights, locked the door with the new deadbolt and slung her handbag over her shoulder. On her way to her convertible her sorrow grew, weighing her down. Tomas hadn’t returned the three calls she’d made since leaving the set.
Footfalls approached from the opposite end of the long hall. At the sight of Tomas in his MP uniform with Antonio and another agent wearing FBI emblazoned jackets behind him, Crystal’s initial gladness turned to consternation. What were the Alvarez brothers doing here in their official capacities? Why did they bring backup? Fear struck Crystal’s heart. This couldn’t be good.
Tomas knocked on Marv, the producer’s, office door. “Police!” he shouted.
The door nearly tore off its hinges as Marv pulled it open. “What the hell is going on?” he shouted back. He glared at Tomas. “What are the frigging FBI doing here with you?”
Smooth as satin, Tomas replied. “I don’t have jurisdiction outside the military, but the FBI do. These are agents Alvarez and Burns. I brought them along to read you your rights.”
“Rights? For what? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You committed a federal offense when you ordered Sandra to write threatening letters to Crystal. You’re both being charged with harassment, conspiracy and terroristic threats. Sandra is already in custody. She confessed your entire plot. We know she’s the woman who ransacked Crystal’s dressing room and apartment. There are additional charges pending.”
Marv held up his hand like a stop sign. “Wait a minute. No. This can’t be.”
Tomas ignored him. “Since Sandra lives in Virginia and mailed the notes to Washington, DC, from her apartment, the FBI has the right to investigate those interstate crimes. They made inquiries and the DC police turned over the information.”
Marv turned to Crystal with pleading eyes. “It was all just a publicity stunt to boost your ratings. Your popularity was shooting through the roof! We had no intention of hurting you. We’d never do that.” He turned an odd shade of fuchsia and held onto his chest. “I need to sit down.” He turned back into his office and the others followed.
“A publicity stunt?” Tomas glared at Marv with such malevolence it scared her. Crystal had never seen him look ferocious before. Apparently there was a side to Tomas she didn’t know. “You’d better start explaining.”
Marv licked his lips and wrung his hands. Crystal noticed for the first time how spotted with age his hands were. “Crystal is our first stripping weathergirl and she’s done great. Everybody loves her.”
The producer looked over at her as if offering reassurance. “I thought it would boost her ratings to create a little personal drama, so I asked Sandra to send her a letter. Nothing too serious, just something to spook her. I waited and waited for Crystal to report it, so I could leak the news to the press. You know, like she was the victim of some whacko fan, but she said nothing.”
“So you told Sandra to send another,” Tomas replied.
Marv nodded. “Right. And again, Crystal said nothing. We kept trying to break her resistance, but she refused to tell anyone about the threats.”
Tomas folded his arms over his chest. “She was trying to avoid negative attention. Ironic, huh? In the end, she screwed up your scheme when she showed me the letters instead of going to you.”
“Exactly!” Marv smiled, as if pleased he understood. “You should have brought the letters directly to my office. But you took them and fucked up the entire plan. When you told me your brother was FBI and looking into the situation, I had to get the evidence back. I watch TV. I know the rules. No evidence, no conviction. I figured if Sandra got them back, no harm done, right?”
Antonio asked the next question. “Where are the letters, Marv?”
“Burned them.” He nodded emphatically. “Charred to ashes.”
“But the plan still worked in the end. You got your publicity. Reporters got wind of the police report after Crystal’s apartment was ransacked,” Antonio said.
Everyone in the room stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing the information.
Marv licked his lips and swallowed. “What now?”
Crystal spoke up. “I don’t want to press charges. Let him go.”
“What?” Tomas whirled on her. “Have you lost your mind? Sandra confessed. We questioned her and she caved after less than a minute. This case is locked.”
“She only did what Marv asked. Sandra’s a kid. She doesn’t deserve to be prosecuted.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending her after what she put you through!” Tomas’ nostrils flared with outrage.
“We put up with a lot from people we care about.” Crystal met his eyes and searched them for understanding. He blinked away her stare, but not before she saw a flicker of empathy in their depths. Maybe he would forgive her one of these days.
Crystal spoke to Antonio. “As Marv has said, this business is all about ratings. That’s the bottom line.”
Marv chimed in. “Subscriptions went through the ceiling when we added Crystal to the cast. With 3-D television on the horizon, we knew we’d found a cash cow with the stripping weathergirl.” He threw Crystal a chagrined smile. “Not that you’re a cow, honeybunch. Far from it. You’re perfect for the part.”
“Therein lies the problem,” Crystal replied, deadpan.
Confusion swept over Marv’s features. “What problem?”
“I’m playing the part of a stripper, when I should be acting as a meteorologist. I have a Master’s degree. I don’t know what I was thinking, taking this job.” She drew closer to Tomas and put her hand on his arm. “I don’t want to be a stripper anymore.”
Tomas cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”
“I want to change.” She’d take up new interests—wholesome sports like racquetball, tennis or golf to blow off steam. Those were things she could play with other men and woman without compromising herself. Or embarrassing anyone.
Tomas turned away, as if her sentiments came too late. Crystal bit back her disappointment and swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
“Wait a freakin’ minute,” Marv interjected. “What do you mean you don’t want to strip anymore? You’re under contract for another six months. I’d planned to renew for an additional three years. The station pays you good money.”
Crystal looked down her nose at Marv. “You manipulated and used me and scared me half to death. How much is it worth to you to stay out of jail for that? To avoid a costly lawsuit? Keep this charade out of the press? How would you like a taste of the hell you’ve rained on me with the paparazzo at your door?”
Marv didn’t reply, but stared down at his shoes. “My wife couldn’t handle a scandal. Or me going to prison. It would kill her.”
“Then you’d better take out your pen and start writing,” Crystal replied.
Chapter Five
All eyes in the room turned to Crystal. “In exchange for not pressing charges against either you or Sandra, dragging your names through the mud and suing you for big bucks in civil court, I have a proposition.”
Everyone leaned forward. Agent Burns scratched the side of her nose, but remained impassive. Tomas seemed to hold back an objection, but let Crystal continue. Antonio crossed his arms and waited. Marv looked up at her with hope in his rheumy eyes.
“I want a new contract. A better one.”
Marv visibly relaxed. “Oh, well, if it’s a contract you want, I’m sure we can come to terms. Yes.”
“That’s great, Marv. We have three witnesses to watch while you write it out on a tablet. They’ll sign it too. Right?” She tu
rned toward the others and waited for them to agree. “We’ll get the legal department to draw up the official version first thing in the morning.”
Marv took out an old-fashioned legal sized tablet and ballpoint pen from his desk. He poised the pen over the paper.
“Now write this down. Crystal Miller has been appointed lead meteorologist at our parent news station WPZX. I know who our investors are, Marv. I’ve done my homework.” She dictated financial terms, including health care and pension benefits that were fair and reasonable, considering her promotion.
Marv’s surprise washed over his face. The pen wobbled in his hand. “You want to leave WCNT?”
“I want a better job and you’re the man to make that happen,” Crystal answered. “You own majority shares at WPZX. They offer straight news at a major outlet.”
She spread her hands in question to the authorities. “This agreement is doable, isn’t it? I don’t have to press charges, do I?”
Tomas turned to Antonio. “Should we let Sandra and Marv go?”
Antonio blew out a slow breath. “If that’s what Crystal wants.” He wrinkled his brow. “Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to take it back.”
Crystal pointed at Marv. “Write. Just think of the ratings on my new show. People will watch just to remember what I looked like naked. I’ll even keep the top button of my blouses unbuttoned. Show a bit of cleavage.”
Marv began to scribble. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he swore. “You got me.”
Crystal came up behind Tomas in the hall as the authorities exited the building. “Wait!” She touched his sleeve. Tomas stopped and turned, his eyes cool. Antonio and agent Burns waited at a discreet distance. “Did you really arrest Sandra? Take her into custody?”
Tomas shook his head. “We were bluffing about that. When Yvette didn’t recognize anyone at the station, Sandra became a person of interest by process of elimination. Antonio and I went to her apartment this morning before she left for work. We wore our badges, working a hunch. She knew why we’d come to her door and confessed.”
“Will the police take action against her?”
“Not if you don’t press charges. The police are busy with more serious matters. Technically, she never broke into your home or dressing room. She was given free access. She lied and she made a mess, but didn’t vandalize. The letters have been destroyed, so there’s no evidence. All we have is a statement from a scared young woman.”
“And my deal with Marv.”
Tomas smiled for the first time. “That was a brilliant maneuver, Crystal.”
She took a step closer. “I did it for us.”
“Us?” He asked the question like there was no us and Crystal’s heart seemed to stop beating. Tears welled.
“Will I see you later?” she asked, the words choking her.
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t think so. I’m going to take off for a while. My commander approved a short leave.”
“You’re going away?” The tears that formed fell freely down her cheeks.
“Yeah. Someplace where it isn’t freaking raining.” He turned away without kissing her and walked out of the building with his brother and Agent Burns.
Crystal went to her convertible in the parking lot, sat behind the steering wheel and cried until she had no tears left.
* * * * *
The phone in her bedroom rang at three a.m. Crystal sat up in bed and turned on the bedside light before answering. “Is this Crystal Miller?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Who is this?” Crystal’s heart nearly leaped from her chest. Calls in the middle of the night rarely brought good news.
“I’m calling from the nurse’s desk at Metropolitan Hospital. A patient named Tomas Alvarez was admitted from the emergency room after an accident. A card in his wallet named you and his brother Antonio as his personal contacts.”
“Accident?” Metropolitan Hospital was near Virginia. Tomas must have been driving to Antonio’s place near Quantico.
She gripped the receiver so hard she was sure it would break, if her hand didn’t shatter first. Fear closed her chest until she couldn’t breathe. Her skin turned to ice.
Crystal fought back her panic and counted to five until she could croak out the dreaded questions. “What happened?” and “Is Tomas all right?” She knew that second question was redundant, but asked anyway. He couldn’t be all right, could he?
“Mr. Alvarez has been in a motorcycle crash. From what we’ve been able to learn, he swerved in the rain to avoid an oncoming car. A drunk driver crossed the highway dividing line and almost hit him head-on. Unfortunately, Mr. Alvarez lost control on the slick road surface and was thrown from his vehicle during his defensive move.”
Terrifying visions of debilitating head trauma and disfiguring injuries filled Crystal’s mind. Her stomach roiled. She fought back bile and tried to steady her hand on the phone receiver. Her next words barely came out in a whisper. “How bad?”
“The good news is that Mr. Alvarez wore a safety helmet and thick protective clothing against the inclement weather. The helmet snapped in half, but saved his life. The not-so-good news, Ms. Miller, is that Mr. Alvarez has been placed in the Intensive Care Unit. He’s fallen into a coma.”
Crystal hurried to the bathroom to pee, brush her teeth and run a comb through her hair. She steadied herself against the countertop and lifted her face to the mirror. A woman with red-rimmed, haunted eyes stared back. One word pounded like a drum through her mind. Coma.
She rushed back into her bedroom and yanked clothes from her closet. Crystal slipped on shoes, grabbed her purse and was on the road to the hospital within ten minutes. Windshield wipers slapped away the falling rain and she mentally beat out their rhythms. “Tomas will be fine, Tomas will be fine,” the wipers seemed to say as they moved back and forth across the window.
She had to believe that. She couldn’t imagine a world without Tomas. The realization struck her like a punch to the chest. Why had she resisted committing to him for so long when it was clear from the beginning they belonged together?
When she reached the hospital forty minutes later, she rushed to the Intensive Care Unit. A nurse pointed out Tomas’ room. The curtains across the glass windows were closed, revealing only slivers of light at their base. Antonio stood in the hallway outside Tomas’ door, looking tired and drawn. He ran a hand through his hair and held the back of his head as if he were injured too.
Crystal hurried to Antonio and reached out to hug him. “How is he?”
Antonio released her and took a step back. “The doctors are still with him. I’ve called my mother. She and her new husband are catching the next flight from New Mexico.”
“Pilar is on her way?” She’d met Tomas’ vivacious, doting mother at his graduation ceremony from the Academy. She only traveled from her home for major events.
This certainly qualified.
“When can we see him?”
Antonio angled his head toward the curtains. “We have to wait for the doctors to finish their evaluations. They promised a full report.”
Crystal paced, prayed and bargained with God for Tomas’ full recovery while they waited. Each minute the clock at the nurse’s station ticked by at a snail’s pace. Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. The air was stifling. Perspiration formed at the back of her neck, under her arms and across her top lip. The floor lifted and tilted beneath her feet, yet she couldn’t sit still.
When she thought she’d scream if she waited another moment, relief came in the form of a tall, lean man with pitch-black straight hair. He wore a white coat over green scrubs and a nametag that said Dr. Kandahar. Neurology. “Are you Mr. Alvarez’s family?” he asked, holding out his free hand for a handshake while he introduced himself. In the other hand he held a computerized chart.
Antonio returned the introductions. The doctor frowned slightly at Crystal. “Hospital policy states that only family members are allowed in the Intensive Care Unit.” He swallowed and pursed
his mouth, clearly uncomfortable with the announcement.
Crystal looked up at him and her face crumbled beneath the weight of his words. “You have to let me see him. Please. I’m his girlfriend.” She wiped away the droplets over her lip with a trembling hand as her tears fell. She choked out another plea. “If you don’t let me see him, I’ll die. Seriously. I can’t take this.”
I’m not that strong. It’s all been an act. A cover-up, like the part I play on television.
Concern, and then pity, swept over the doctor’s angular features. He tightened his lips and nodded, once. “I didn’t hear that, all right, Miss? I incorrectly assumed you were his wife.”
Crystal offered the most grateful smile she could muster and nodded in return.
The doctor met Antonio’s gaze. “The good news is that Mr. Alvarez’s coma is considered mild. In these situations, patients usually wake up within four weeks. If not, they fall into what we call a persistent vegetative state. That, of course, would mean his brain trauma is more serious than it appears at this time.”
Crystal clutched Antonio’s arm to keep from swooning. “Four weeks?”
No, no, no—this couldn’t be happening.
Dr. Kandahar glanced at the chart in his hand and continued. “Mr. Alvarez’s MRI looks encouraging. He has a small amount of brain swelling and hemorrhage. His Glasgow Coma Scale 15 reading offers the best possible prognosis. He has several fractures, contusions, hematomas, lacerations and abrasions.” The doctor flickered a tight smile. “Nothing we can’t fix there.” He inclined his head toward Tomas’ door. “The rest is really up to him. His brain has to heal and wake him up.”
Within four weeks or he would fall into a vegetative state. “May I see him? Please. Just for a few moments.”
“Only a few.” The doctor stepped aside and allowed Crystal and Antonio to pass.