Sexy Girls

by Gary S. Griffin

  As the last page of the will finished printing, Cyn walked in holding a folded sheet of paper.

  “What are you printing, Stevie?”

  “Andi's will. It should be interesting reading. Do you know if this is official, Cyn?”

  “I don't know.”

  “OK, well, I'll read it later. What did you find?”

  She answered, “It's an itinerary for a trip.”

  “Really? Where'd you find that?”

  “It was in one of those suitcases on her bed. Look.”

  The itinerary was dated eight days ago. It detailed a trip that began the next day, last Friday, a trip to Denver, with round-trip airline tickets, a rental car reservation at the Denver Airport, and hotel reservations at a Holiday Inn in Fort Collins, a college-town north of Denver. The return trip should have been Tuesday, three days earlier.

  “Cyn, why would Andi go to Colorado?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Did she ever mention knowing anyone out there?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Okay, well, let's get out of here.”

  I shut down the computer, gathered the itinerary, bills and bank statement and we quietly exited. Within a minute, Cyn and I had locked up the penthouse and returned to her office downstairs. Cyn unzipped one of her portfolios and slipped Andi's will and the sealed mail envelopes inside. She turned off the lights and we headed to the elevator.

  On the way down, Cyn said, “I need a drink.”

  ***

  Five minutes later we were at the bar of Rouge on Rittenhouse Square sipping our drinks; a double Jack Daniels for Cyn and a vodka tonic for me.

  “Cyn, we've made some progress. I'll call that Fort Collins hotel as soon as we get back to your apartment.”

  “Do you think you should go to Colorado, Stevie?”

  “Yes, especially if we don't reach her,” I answered.

  “I just don't understand why she'd go there.”

  “So, you wanted to talk more about Andi's manic depression.”

  Cyn began her story. “Andi gets a ton of energy when she's manic. Sometimes, she gets creative. I've seen her do some amazing work in our remote shoots, where she gets real vision on the best locations for photo shoots, the time of day to shoot and which models would be best and what they should wear. But, other times, when she gets really out there, it's not good at all. When Andi is really stressed, a manic episode can come on. In those times, she's incredible to watch and really scary. She doesn't sleep, she gets horny and she does wild stuff.”

  Cyndie paused, then, snapped her fingers. “You know Andi was manic when you saved her life in Los Angeles?”

  “Sure, Cyn, you're right. Andi was so freaked out that she made me promise not to say one word about it to anyone, ever.”

  Cyn smiled. “Well, I know you didn't, but she told me the story. Being so crazy got her into that jam. Plus, she couldn't remember anything.”

  “That was unbelievable, for sure.”

  “Without you, she'd be in prison right now. I still can't believe that whole story. Thank God for you, Stevie.” Cyndie said.

  “Well, we both turned her life around. You were the one that introduced her to Robert and got her a job at the agency,” I replied.

  Cyn said, “Yeah, but, most important, after that time, I made her get help. She saw a psychologist and took lithium. She seemed to be doing better. But, she still got manic. The medicine only prevented it from getting too intense. I think she really liked her manic episodes, but she wanted me to watch over her. I never felt real comfortable about being her caretaker, but she liked having a confidant like me.”

  I was slowly shaking my head in amazement. Cyn looked at me and asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “Cyn, I didn't just rescue Andi in California. We, we had a wild experience… She was desperate. I should have said no, but I didn't. She came on to me very strong and I didn't resist very hard and…”

  Cyn interrupted. “Look, Stevie. I've known about that for years. Andi can't keep a secret from me, especially not about you. She loves you and I know it. But, I know you wouldn't hurt her, not like all the others. You love her too, like I do.”

  I didn't know what to say. It's scary how well Cyn knows me. I changed the subject. “Cyn let's look at the will.”

  Cyn opened her portfolio and pulled it out. “Here, scan it. I need some fresh air. Order me another Jack Daniels. And, get the menu, I'm starving.”

  Cyn walked out of Rouge onto the sidewalk of 18th Street. I watched her do the one thing I hate; she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She held the smoke too long and exhaled the smoke slowly in a fine long stream between her lips. I wish I could break that harmful habit.

  While she was gone I ordered our second round of drinks and the special, grilled salmon on a bed of falafel, for both of us. I moved us to an inside table with a view of the Square. In nice weather, like that May night, Rouge has an open wall to the outside. As I scanned the will I watched Cyn smoke her cigarette.

  The contents of the will rocked me. I couldn’t believe what I read. Three people, Cyndie, Edie McCall and I were the sole beneficiaries of Andi’s estate, including her Rehoboth beach house. And, her husband, Robert, was expressly mentioned as not having any ownership rights. Reading further I realized that the beach house was by far her largest asset with an appraised value of $850,000, which Andi owned free and clear, with no mortgages or equity loans against it. I knew the Rehoboth real estate market zoomed in the 1990s, but I had no idea it was that much.

  Edie McCall’s name brought back a flood of memories. Edie and I have shared two life-changing experiences. The first was in 1995 when Andi was accused of murder. Edie provided invaluable help in solving that mystery and getting Andi’s charges dropped. The second incident occurred last year when Edie and I were caught in a wildfire on an Arizona mountain. In both adventures, Edie believed I saved her life. I believe Edie and I have a connection, a special bond that draws us together. I’m not sure of God’s intentions. Now, Andi’s disappearance and will could be a third significant event I’ll share with Edie. Time will tell.

  I whistled and said, “Oh my God!”

  “What's the matter?”

  That was Cyn. I had been so absorbed in my reading I failed to notice that Cyn was standing next to our table.

  I was almost speechless.

  “Take a look at this.” I handed Cyn the will. “Sit down, Cyn. This may shock you.”

  She spent three minutes scanning the document.

  “Does this mean …?”

  “If this is Andi's real will, then you and I have a real interest in knowing what's happened to Andi.”

  “Oh my God, Stevie.”

  I replied, “That's what I said. On the last page is the name of an attorney, in Delaware, Walter Hines.”

  “As I said before, that's her attorney.”

  “We need to speak to him.”

  Then, Cyn asked, “Isn’t Edie McCall Andi’s friend from Los Angeles?”

  “Yes, remember she helped figure out what happened, that Andi didn’t kill Sid.”

  Cyndie said, “Oh, yeah, the little actress. I met her at Andi’s wedding. I didn’t know Andi was that close to her.”

  I said, “I’m a little surprised, too. But, Andi could never thank us enough for what we did.”

  “That’s right; she always says you and Edie saved her life.”

  Still, I was surprised! I wondered if my recurring dream was coming to life. I hadn’t shared that with Cyndie, or the mountain wildfire experience. I also wondered how often Andi spoke to Edie, and if Edie might know something about her disappearance. I asked Cyndie if she knew anything about Andi’s relationship with Edie. She said she didn’t. I let my thoughts of Edie stop there for now.

  ***

  An hour later we walked in to Cyn's apartment. I was about to say goodnight. But, first, I turned and gave Cyndie a long hug and kiss. For once, Cyndie held me even longer. When we c
ame up for air, tears were streaming down Cyndie's face.

  I wiped them and Cyn said, “Stay with me tonight. I need to be held. You can go down to your house in the morning.”

  “Sure.”

  I did hold Cyndie and she fell asleep soundly in a few minutes.

  I didn't know it, but I had started down a new path and there was no turning back.

  the kimmel center

  I woke first, early. I got up and walked quietly out to the hall.

  When I wandered into the living room, I noticed the white envelope with the blackmail letter and the photos sat on the shelf above the TV. We forgot to put it away. I pushed the eject button on the VCR and put the video back into the white bag. I turned, walked back to the second bedroom and placed it on top of the shelf in the closet.

  Back in the kitchen I made coffee and sat on the couch and started reading the second journal, the white one. Andi had reached the present time and the writings became diary entries.

  I'm not sure how much time passed, but my next sip of coffee was cold and the sun had cleared the townhouses across Cyn's street.

  I heard the toilet flush. It was only 7:45 in the morning.

  I put the journal down, made Cyn's cup of coffee, with cream and sugar, and walked back into the bedroom.

  Cyn was headed back to bed and turned toward me. She looked very appealing, with her tangled hair, her bedroom eyes, her nightgown, her tattooed arms and legs and her big smile. It's so much better than the serious scowl she too often shows the world.

  I handed her the coffee.

  “Thank you.”

  I mentioned the envelope and journals. “If you want me to, I could take it down to my house and put it in my safe for safety's sake.”

  “Yes, do it.”

  I couldn't stop myself. “Cyn, you're incredibly beautiful. It was wonderful seeing you on film without clothes. I mean, it's a real privilege, oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean to embarrass you.”

  Cyndie said, “Shut up, you jerk. I'm sure you liked seeing Andi even more.”

  I left that comment alone. I said, “Cyn, you guys weren't fooling. It was everything, love, passion, mad sex…”

  “Yes it was. It's embarrassing that such a private moment was caught on film. But I'm not upset that you watched it. I'm glad you liked it. I just wished I looked better.”

  I replied, “You look incredible.”

  Cyn touched her hair. “Oh, Stevie, you're so kind to me.”

  I kissed her lips, got up and went back to the living room. I picked up Andi’s itinerary and studied it for a minute.

  Cyn got up and started to make her breakfast.

  I picked up Cyn’s telephone. Three phone calls changed everything.

  I called the big red rental car company and asked about Andi's Denver rental. My heart stopped for a moment; the customer service rep explained the car was turned in early at the Denver airport, on Sunday morning, six days before.

  The second call brought the biggest concern. The Holiday Inn said Andi's room still had her clothes and her reservation ran out five days ago. They packed her gear and ended her reservation yesterday.

  I briefed Cyndie and then placed a third call. I made my own reservations with my travel agency for a round-trip to Denver, a rental car and a room at the Fort Collins Holiday Inn, leaving Monday morning. I really wanted to get out there as soon as possible. I thought of leaving the next day, Sunday, but decided against it at the last moment, because I’d likely have more success finding people on a weekday and I wanted to first follow up on the few things we found here, in Philly.

  I hung up and returned to the kitchen. I explained my tentative plan to Cyndie.

  Cyn had a determined look on her face but didn't know what to say. “Stevie, so who blackmailed Andi?”

  “I think Colorado holds some clues.”

  “I hope.”

  “Cyn, something is wrong with this whole story. It’s too coincidental that Andi was about to file for divorce and then the Kimmel Center night happened. Robert beat her to the punch. How did he do that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How did he know you guys were having an affair and that you would be at the Kimmel Center?”

  Cyn responded, “Well, we weren’t exactly discreet.”

  “How indiscreet were you?”

  “We were hugging and kissing inside and outside of work?”

  “Who saw you?”

  “Lot’s of people. Red Sable, others, I don’t know who.”

  I thought a second and then asked her, “Is the tape in your bedroom the one that was sent to the Grayson’s home in Delaware?”

  “I think so, it's a copy. Andi got it from Walter, her attorney.”

  “Do you know who has seen the tape?”

  Andi said clearly, “Robert, his attorney and your ex-witch Eve Simmons, the judge, her attorney, Andi, me and you have seen it. I don't know who else. Maybe others have in the judge's office.”

  “Cyn, something isn’t right about this. But, let me ask a few questions about the Kimmel Center lounge. When I looked at the tape, I couldn't believe this was just a security camera. First, the quality is too good. Second, the camera is focused on the couch. How big was the room?”

  “It was like a big living room, maybe 15 feet by 25 feet.”

  “Was there any other furniture inside the room?”

  “Yes, at least two side chairs and a few tables. Also, there was a bar or a front shelf area, with some stools too.”

  “See, I don't know why the camera would be focused on the couch. Wait a minute, where did you put your cat suit and g-string before you lied down?”

  “I think it was on a side chair, why?”

  “Do you remember afterwards, when you two sat up and got dressed? The camera followed you to that chair. I need to watch that part again.”

  “Stevie, you're right, I do remember that. But, what does that mean?”

  “The camera could have been controlled by someone. In other words, someone else was watching, moving the camera, and they followed you and Andi to the side chairs.”

  “Oh my God, Stevie!”

  “I want to go to the Kimmel Center to check out that lounge. Would you be willing to come with me to walk through that night again?”

  “Sure, when would you like to go?”

  “Very soon, okay?”

  “Yes.” Cyndie thought for a moment, and then said, “I need to call Walter Hines and let him know you're helping investigate the blackmailing. I’ll ask him about the will too.”

  I replied, “Sure, that’s a good idea.”

  “Stevie, let's check out the Kimmel Center.”

  I asked, “When?”

  “Why not right now, this morning?”

  “Okay, let's do it.”

  “While you get dressed I’ll go get my car.”

  “Good idea.”

  Three minutes later I was making my way across Rittenhouse Square on my way to get my Miata out of the Liberty Place parking garage. An overnight rain shower and quickly passing cold front had provided crisp early summer air and a mild breeze.

  ***

  We arrived at the Kimmel Center around 11 a.m. and parked her car across Broad Street in a parking garage. Cyn held my hand as we walked the block to the entrance. Cyn went with her Goth look; another black corset-like top, a sheer multilayered black skirt and black mid-calf lug-soled boots with long laces.

  As we got closer, Cyn became quiet and her grip on my hand became tighter. I realized she was frightened and thought about how I could make her feel more at ease. I just continued to hold hands.

  The Kimmel Center is a new music hall in center city Philadelphia with a large main theatre and several smaller theaters all under a clear glass semi-cylindrical roof. The center occupies a full city block and is very modern. Inside it is an impressive world of dark wood walls, brass railings and fixtures, smoked glass windows, and terracotta tile floors.

  I asked Cyn where they en
tered the Kimmel Center that night in February and she directed us toward the main entrance off Broad Street. Cyndie then walked ahead and showed how they strutted into the building. I followed and we were soon standing in the center of the lobby. From there, we looked around and I noticed that this was a very open space. There were four stories with many doors off the multi-levels around and above us.

  There was a musical event of some kind with about two hundred people, mostly elementary school children, milling around the lobby. Andi pointed towards the main theatre, which opened ahead of us.

  Cyn said they first headed to the bar, which was left of the entrance. We walked there and saw the table and chairs.

  I asked Cyn, “Okay, now where was the lounge?”

  Cyn froze and said, “Up the escalator one floor and then down that hall a little way.” Cyn pointed up to the left.

  “Show me.”

  Cyn walked around the bar and headed to the escalator. We rode up one flight and started down a narrow hall heading back toward the Broad Street entrance. I followed and then she stopped until I caught up. We walked holding hands.

  After about 60 feet, Cyn stopped, turned and pointed towards a dark walnut colored door, and then said, “I think this is it, Stevie. Notice how private this whole area seems? I didn't see any one up here that night. Okay, let's go in, but you go first, Stevie.”

  I turned the door knob and found that it was unlocked. I pulled the door and we entered. The door was on the left side of the front of the room. The room opened to the right and was at least as large as Cyn remembered. It had white walls and recessed, circular lights in the ceiling. The bar was on the left wall. A glass-paneled door on the back solid-glass wall led to the patio that overlooked Broad Street. The floor was covered with good quality off-white industrial carpet. The room had a white leather chaise lounge in the middle with two black leather side chairs. In front of the chaise lounge was a black coffee table and there were two black end tables at each end of the lounge. There were about five metal padded chairs along the back wall.

  Cyn gasped when she saw the chaise lounge again and re-held my hand.