CoverBoys & Curses

by Lala Corriere

  The fire roared and spitted. The rain pounded in sheets against the sliding doors.

  All of them were dead, I thought. My runway model, Dhurra , the plastic surgeon, and now a priest. And a mental health worker, the ultimate snitch, remained missing.

  The pounding grew louder. Too loud. Lightning streaked across the dark sky and a roar of thunder boomed from somewhere over the ocean.

  Pounding. Now knocking. Now pounding at my door.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  An Open Invitation

  The pounding stopped. Now tick. Tick. Tick. I hadn’t pulled the plantation shutters and could see it was Dr. Coal, clinking his keys against the window while bracing himself against the tumultuous winds with his other hand.

  “What is this? Are you all right? I’ve been ringing the bell and beating on your door!”

  Astonished at his presence, I signaled him one moment and ran to the CD player to quiet Andrea’s voice.

  “Loud enough to fill the Bolshoi,” he teased.

  I grabbed his umbrella and helped release him from his raingear. “What are you doing here?” I tried to sound polite, but felt off balance. Sweet and sour. That’s all I could think.

  “My aide is renting a home further down the beach. His power went off so I brought him some provisions. I thought I should check on you, too.”

  My mind raced in jagged circles. How did he know where I lived? Oh. Forms. I must have put it on the forms I filled out for The Centre. His aide? Near me? And my electricity was on, as evidenced by Andrea’s music and plenty of lights. I fumbled for words. Why was he in my living room? Sweet and sour.

  “Come in. Dry off,” I said.

  “If you’d rather be alone I understand completely. I shouldn’t have just showed up here.”

  “No. Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Wine?”

  “What are you drinking?”

  “Something stiffer.”

  “I’ll have something stiffer,” he smiled.

  I led Coal toward my kitchen where I handed him a towel and asked him to pour two scotches as I pulled out two glasses and the bottle. My eyes had already returned to the photos and files I had left sprawled out by the fireplace and I had no intention of sharing them with anyone beyond the lawyers.

  Coal finished drying off, then joined me by the fire. I had scooted the file folders under the sofa

  “Allow me,” Coal said, offering me my own scotch.

  “Wow! The service is impeccable around here,” I said.

  Teddy, my incidental-adoptive cat, came lurking out from the dining room. He acted peculiar, but isn’t that how all cats act? He hissed at Dr. Coal. I’d never heard him hiss before. He arched his back. I’d never seen that. And then he ran into his private bedroom Carly decorated just for him. I had seen that.

  “How are you holding up, Lauren?” Coal asked, unbothered by Teddy.

  My shoulders slumped. I could see it in his eyes. The pity party. “You know?”

  “Another tragic murder. Yes, I know.”

  “I’m holding up.”

  “Any more personal threats to you?”

  “None at my doorstep. Just the usual rate of irate. We have some detective on our side, at least that’s what I try and tell myself.”

  “A private detective?”

  “Well, no. The one assigned to the cases. And me.”

  He sighed. “Oh. I see. One of L.A.’s finest?”

  Sweet and sour. He was so handsome. So charismatic. He was sitting in my living room and filling the air with an energetic aura. Part of me wanted him to sweep me off my feet and take me to my bedroom. But he was also my shrink. And he was asking too many questions, too fast. I wasn’t prepared and I didn’t want to talk about it. I ignored his follow-up question.

  “Luckily the next couple of issues are relatively tame. An article on steroids from users and peddlers already behind bars—a throwback from our test issue since we helped get them behind bars. And June Grooms.”

  “Your magazine will be just fine, Lauren. So will you.”

  I took comfort in the words. And in the way that they were spoken.

  I must be crazy. Do not, under any circumstances, jump from the frying pan into the fire. Finish the drink with the man and show him to the door.

  Harlan’s cell rang. In disregard to what now had become a downpour, he removed himself and stepped outside to my deck to take the call while finding shelter under the small ramada.

  Before I could second-guess myself I brought out some Gouda cheese and rye crackers, only after scraping off the sheet of green mold on the cheese and shoving it down the garbage disposal like any other perfect hostess would do. I also grabbed the bottle of scotch.

  I glanced at my mantel clock. I patted down my hair. I ran my finger through my hair to lift it again. Hell, I don’t know what I did. Coal was the one standing out in the pelting rain. I was the one that felt like a fool.

  When he finally returned through my kitchen I ran to grab him another towel.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, mopping up his tracks.

  “Don’t worry about it. Is everything okay?”

  “Now you sound like my therapist,” he said. “Everything’s fine.”

  But it wasn’t fine. His tawny bronzed face was now a translucent gray, and not from the cold and rain.

  “Bad news?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s easy to lose track of the fact that The Centre is a business, but economics dictate that issue,” he said.

  “Trouble?” He seemed to have acquired my trait of avoiding the questions.

  His jaw tensed, betraying his frustration. “Seems I have good news and bad news. That was my banker. Our finance guy has been extorting money from The Centre. Big money. And now he’s disappeared without a trace.”

  Coal was the steady rock everyone else turned to for help. I’d never seen him unnerved, not even slightly upset. I ached for the sudden change in mood and the serious expression that consumed his entire body.

  “You’ll go after him?”

  “Sure, but it sounds like it might be a lost cause if no one can find him.”

  “I have the direct number for the detective—“

  “No. Nothing I can’t handle, sweetie.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “We have to trust, Lauren. I will never ever say that I trust too much. Sometimes, as you well know, humanity disappoints us.”

  “But you have good news,” I urged, as we took our places back in the comfort of my living room and the roaring fire.

  “Yes. The bad helps us see and feel and live the good.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve already expressed that we don’t have enough homes at The Centre. So many good people want to live with us.

  “One of our homes has just become available.”

  His eyes were delicious with excitement, but I didn’t understand. “Available?”

  “Mrs. Conrad passed away today. A lovely woman. A devoted soul.”

  “How sad,” I said.

  “Believe it or not, if we think life is robbed from us in death it’s because we don’t understand it can be a journey to embrace when the time comes for us.”

  “But how did she die? Was she ill?”

  “I don’t know the details.”

  “But like Carly, this woman owned her own home, right? Won’t you just buy it back from her estate? I’m sure Carly told me you have plenty of prospects in place with offers to buy any home on the grounds.” It was a question more than a statement.

  “Not necessary. Mrs. Conrad was devoted to our path. And pure. She left the home to The Centre.”

  “Wow. That’s a magnanimous gift!”

  “I don’t think she had any other heirs. We will respect her final wishes.”

  It was then that I noticed Coal had refilled my glass of scotch—did that make three?—and he had barely touched his own.

  “Do you believe in synchronicity, Lau
ren?”

  “Well, I guess I do.”

  “This is magical. Forget about the bad news and feel the good. The rain. The power going off. My checking in on you. And precisely when I am here with you I get the call about our having an availability of a home on our grounds.

  “It’s quite clear to me. I think you should buy our home!”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Secret Obsessions

  HARLAN COAL STOOD at the gateway between his public residence and the huge stone wall that protected his inner sanctum. Armand was in the mood for an argument and Coal knew to get his aide inside the great chamber and out of earshot.

  “Why would you have to tell the Visconti woman that I own a place on the beach near hers?” Armand roared.

  “I didn’t tell her that because you don’t, do you? The Centre is borrowing it, and you’re damn lucky to get to use it for your little emergencies. But don’t be a fool. Visconti saw you there on the back deck. She doesn’t know it yet, but if and when she puts it together, we’re better off she knows now.” Coal opened the grand skylights to catch the rich scent of wisteria from the grounds below.

  “You aren’t paying any rent on that place, just like the Bel Air house. You’re paying me to be quiet,” Armand raged.

  “My deal is between Gabriella Criscione and me. I don’t let her tell me how to run my life, and I don’t let her tell me how to run hers.

  “The beach house isn’t like our other properties. I don’t see me getting my hands on the deed for some time, but it’s my gift to you for as long as you want. Don’t screw it up and you can use it any time you want.”

  “And what about the old man? Falls?” Armand paced the cork floors that afforded an extra cushioning of silence.

  “He’s going to meet his maker in a few weeks. Poor old geezer has a bad heart. He’s on some battery-operated pump that needs a recharge every seven hours, poor guy. Falls will fall, and all that loot will become ours. Give it some time.”

  “Time is what worries me,” Armand said.

  “Then I guess it’s time for some more baseball.”

  DETECTIVE WRAY called my cell. “Did you get a hold of that friend of mine in Tucson?”

  “You have a friend?” I joked.

  He actually laughed. A belly-bursting laugh I could almost see over the phone.

  “I have spoken to him. He’s working on it. He’s trying to find my friend’s brother, first. I gave him the name of a producer I know that seems to have connections with all these things.”

  “Missing children. That would be the infamous Jack Helms’ new obsession.”

  “Right,” I said.

  Now how did he know that? Maybe I didn’t give the detective enough credit, I thought.

  IT WAS CARLY’S IDEA. Combat boot camp champion that she was, she wanted to play tennis and I agreed. Not my brightest moment, but neither of us had seen Brock in weeks and he was a member of the club. He got us passes and told us he’d buy drinks later. I wasn’t sure that meant he would show up, or just pick up our tab via his golden association with the country club crowd.

  “I haven’t played in months,” I said.

  “It shows. It’s thirty—love, girlfriend,” Carly blared.

  “I can’t do a whole set,” I whined, out of breath and ready to quit. “You must have some new vitamin regimen.”

  “Something like that,” Carly said as she poured two glasses of water from the side court. “I guess it’s my Purity Oath.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Abstinence,” Carly said.

  We finished the game in silence, except for my few gasps, screams, and ‘oh shits’. After I’d finally expunged my last bit of energy I called a truce. We gathered at the net to collect our towels and gym bags, with Carly the clear victor.

  We ended our exercise endeavor over gulps of water and then a glass of wine at a table, poolside.

  “Abstinence, huh?” I asked Carly.

  “You’re one of my best friends. Surely you get this. I’m a virgin.”

  “Maybe. I sort of thought maybe. Do you have desires?”

  “What the hell do you think I am?” Carly wore a mischievous smile behind her mock hurt frown. Friendship. We were on solid ground.

  “I honestly don’t know. It occurred to me maybe you just weren’t interested in sex,” I answered.

  “Are you crazy? Have you never heard of a virgin? Good god, you don’t think I’m a lesbian, do you?”

  “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were.”

  “As long as I don’t come on to you,” Carly laughed.

  “Deal. You are a good friend but I have my limits.”

  “I’m the only virgin my age left in L.A., and when the right man, the golden man, comes along, I’ve got a precious little package for him. And it’s not implanted by one of your plastic surgeon nuts.”

  Carly pulled at her pinot grigio, as if it were that golden man’s lush lips. She was stunning, in every way. Choppy black hair, short and flirty. Curves. Real curves. And I felt saddened I didn’t know her secret. After all these years I recognized my ignorance. She was a virgin by choice until her prince arrived. I made wrong assumptions. I didn’t have a clue that she was on a chosen and widely respected path. I did hope she would find her prince.

  Still, I wanted to suggest she loosen up. Experience her body before she committed to a monogamous relationship. As I studied her, she read me more deeply than I had ever read her.

  “Anyway,” Carly said, “a man would only get in the way until I have my antique store up in running. That’s my first goal. I have a new big design job, Lauren. It may just be enough to do it my way.”

  “Where is it? One of our famous or infamous stars?”

  “You know how that goes. No one wants to let on that they’re dumping a ton of money into their property.”

  “You sound like it’s patient-client privilege confidentiality. Or a lawyer thing.”

  “I’ve been in the business long enough. The more hush-hush they are, the bigger the deal. And I’m familiar with the house. It should be quick, easy, and prosperous.

  “So let’s flip the tables. What’s your goal these days? You have this way about you when you’re uptight. You crank your neck around in circles, and when it’s real bad, you even pull on your ears,” Carly said.

  “Really?” I had heard it before.

  “Yup. And you’re doing it right now, even while you’re drilling me about my sex life and business concerns.”

  “I didn’t know I was that transparent.”

  “Like a day old guppy,” Carly said.

  “I haven’t had time to tell you but I’ve hired a private detective in Tucson to look into Payton’s death and maybe even help track down her brother.”

  “You’re kidding? And you didn’t have time to tell me?”

  “It happened so quickly. I got his name from the detective hammering me here about—well you know what about. I honestly didn’t think it would go anywhere. Turns out this Tucson guy seems like he might take a peek at things for us.”

  “Who else knows?”

  “Like I said, it happened fast. You’re the first one I’ve had time to talk to, but here comes the devil, himself.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Mi Club es Su Club

  I NODDED TOWARD THE six-foot plus hunk that strolled through the country club’s lounge in black shorts and a just-so-tight black tee shirt. Brock’s season would soon be coming to a close, and I could sense his aching muscles screaming for a time out. They still looked divine, believe me.

  “Who won the match?” Brock said as a waiter appeared from nowhere and delivered him a beer.

  “Don’t have to ask, do you?” I whined.

  Carly patted on the seat next to her. “Sit. Lauren has big news about Payton.”

  Brock’s penetrating eyes stole all three bases, as they always did with me. “What’s going on?”

  I explained what few details I had, which was no
thing but a vague hint of someone willing to investigate two cases that weren’t even really cases. But Payton’s brother was still missing. And Payton didn’t put a single bullet into her own head.

  I looked up to a familiar voice and a swash of white fabric. “Hey, Slugger. How’s your game going these days?”

  Brock stood to attention. Firm and guarded attention. “What are you doing here, Mr. Coal?”

  “It’s Doctor Coal. And I’m early for a private appointment. Couldn’t help but notice two of my favorite girls.”

  Coal sat next to me in the remaining chair. He didn’t look at me. I found that odd, but in a way, a relief.

  “So,” Coal repeated, “how is your ballgame?”

  “A very decent year, all and all,” Brock said, stretching his muscular arms out in a full sweep then landing them around both Carly and me. Real smooth. If you’re twelve years old.

  “You’re old college injury still getting to you? Rotator cuff?” Coal asked.

  Brock dropped his chin. “Guess so. How did you know?”

  “I read the papers,” Coal said. “See the news now and then.”

  “I didn’t take you for a sports guy,” Brock said.

  “You needn’t take me for anything,” Coal responded.

  The waiter arrived with three flutes of champagne as Coal signed for them. “Hope you don’t mind, girls, but the very sight of you is cause for celebration,” he said.

  “So now you’re a member of my club?” Brock asked.

  Carly broke up the exchange of squabbling before I even realized the tones of voice had become more callous than the words themselves.

  After diverted fierce glares, Carly announced that her business plan was complete and she knew her vision of an antique store was nearing reality.

  Brock seemed surprised. Coal seemed to know all about it. But then again, both Carly and I had seen little of Brock, and Carly surely saw Dr. Coal all the time.