Blood in the Marsh

by Ciana Stone

  Lyra stopped in the foyer. As always, Lexi was dressed as if she were getting ready to appear before the camera. Her long platinum-blonde hair was curled and teased, piled up on top of her head with snaking curls escaping along the hairline and at the sides of her face. She was wearing a sleek blue halter dress that did little to cover her newly enlarged breasts or her ample thighs.

  Unaware of Lyra’s presence, Lexi continued to coo up at the man, making kissing noises at him. The man saw Lyra and whispered to Lexi. Lexi turned around and smiled widely.

  “Darling, I’m home! And look who I brought for a visit. This is Count Leopold Desyatov. Leo, this is Lyra.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Leo said with a smile.

  Lyra nodded politely. “Nice to meet you.” Then she turned to Lexi. “Hello, Mother.”

  Several Days Later

  “I can’t believe you’re saying no to me!” Lexi pouted dramatically as she sat down on Lyra’s bed.

  Lyra gritted her teeth for moment, hating the whining tone in Lexi’s voice. “I told you, I have plans. Besides, you don’t need me here and you know I hate the parties you have.”

  Lexi’s face hardened for a moment before she resumed her wounded expression. “It really hurts me that you don’t want to spend any time with me. I mean, you’ve been away all year at school and I’ve hardly seen anything of you. It seems to me like it’s very little to ask that you sacrifice one evening to be here with me while I entertain.”

  Lyra sighed and sat down on the bed to face her Lexi She knew that Lexi didn’t have any big desire to spend time with her. She never had.

  It wasn’t hard for Lyra to understand. Lexi was a self-centered woman, one who had never been equipped to be a mother. She wouldn’t have been if Lyra’s parents had not died in a plane crash when she was only a year old. Sometimes Lyra wondered if Lexi would not have preferred that Lyra died as well. Then Lexi could have claimed her portion of her sister’s inheritance without being saddled with her sister’s child. Since that was the only way she could get her hands on the inheritance, she had adopted Lyra.

  It had never been made a secret that Lyra was adopted. She had known as far back as she could remember. She didn’t remember her real parents and Lexi had destroyed what pictures there were long ago.

  Lexi had been around very little when Lyra was growing up. Most of her childhood was spent in the care of a succession of nannies and housekeepers, with Lexi blowing in between trips to Hollywood, Monte Carlo, the Riviera, and such.

  Lyra had learned early on not to expect much from Lexi. Alexandra Seville was not the kind of woman who was meant to be a mother. Until her career as an actress, what had been labeled in the sixties as a “sex kitten”, had ended, she had spent no more than obligatory holidays with Lyra. When her age prevented her from playing femme fatales, she left show business.

  Lexi could not admit to herself, let alone anyone else, that she was getting older. She was not yet forty when she jetted to Switzerland and checked herself into an exclusive clinic to have cosmetic surgery. That was the first of what had come to be a ritual. Every two or three years she would disappear for several months and return newly tightened and tucked. Lyra didn’t think there was an inch on Lexi’s body that had not been cut, nipped, lyposuctioned or tucked.

  She looked at Lexi for a few minutes, noticing the new lines around her mouth and the slight sag on the skin of her neck. Won’t be long before she’s off again. Lyra really didn’t understand why Lexi could not just admit that she was not a young woman anymore. At forty-nine she was still very beautiful, but no matter how good she looked, it was never good enough.

  “Well?” Lexi cut into her thoughts. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  Lyra sighed. “I don’t know what more to say. I just don’t feel like trying to be sociable to all your friends tonight. I have nothing in common with them and they certainly aren’t interested in anything I have to say, so what’s the point?”

  “Well, maybe if you’d decided to spend your time doing something besides studying history, you’d have something interesting to talk about. Honestly, Lyra, just look at yourself. Here you are in the prime of your life and all you want to do is root around in some musty old library reading about a bunch of dead people. Who cares what they did! They’re dead and buried. But you’re not and you’re just wasting your life on things that aren’t important. Why, if you’d spend just half as much attention to the way you look as you do on those damn books you might have some kind of social life.”

  “Let’s not get into that.” Lyra stood and walked across the room to her closet, pulling out a loose cotton dress.

  Lexi jumped up and snatched the dress from her. “Yes, let’s! Like this dress, for example. It’s horrible! It looks like something out of someone’s attic and it probably hangs on you like a bag. How do you think you’re ever going to attract a man dressed in something like this? For god’s sake, you’ve got a fairly decent body, so why not show it off?”

  Lyra reclaimed her dress and stepped back from Lexi. “I happen to like this dress. And for your information, I’m not looking for a husband.”

  “Who said anything about a husband?” Lexi laughed. “Honey, I’m talking about passion, not drudgery.”

  Lyra turned away. “I’m not looking for that either.”

  Lexi walked around her and leaned back against the dresser. “Well, why not? I mean, you’re not lesbian, are you?”

  “No,” Lyra replied in resignation, realizing that Lexi was not going to let up. “I’m just not looking for—to have an affair, that’s all.”

  “Oh my god!” Lexi laughed at her. “Honey, I don’t know what you’ve been learning in school but it just isn’t normal for a twenty-two-year-old woman to not be interested in men.”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Huh?” Lexi stopped laughing and frowned. “No, you’re not. You’re twenty-two. You won’t be twenty-three until…”

  “June 21st,” Lyra filled in the elusive date. “I’ll be twenty-four on June 21st.”

  Lexi’s eyes widened then she chuckled knowingly. “So that’s what this is all about. You’re trying to punish me because I forgot your last birthday.”

  Lyra closed her eyes and blew out her breath then looked at Lexi. “No, I’m not trying to punish you. And my birthday is no big deal. I just don’t want to be here for your party, so could we just end this little discussion? I have to get ready and so do you.”

  Lexi checked the time and squealed. In that short time her attention switched from Lyra to herself. “You’re right! I have to hurry.” Lyra said nothing as she watched Lexi sail out of the room. Shaking her head, she pulled off her shorts and T-shirt and slid the cotton dress over her head. Looking at her reflection in the mirror she saw the same thing she always saw, a plain, ordinary girl who didn’t stand a chance of measuring up to her glamorous, beautiful stepmother.

  Later That Evening

  Lyra walked downstairs and heard the sound of voices coming from the terrace out back. Not wanting to be caught up in meeting any of Lexi’s guests, she picked up her keys from the table in the foyer and started for the front door.

  “Are you sure you won’t change your mind about staying?” Leopold’s voice caused her to stop.

  She turned and looked at him. He was really quite handsome, in a dark Mediterranean way. “No, thanks anyway. I have plans. You have fun.”

  Leopold walked over to her and reached out to take her hand. “I’m sure the evening will be less bright without your presence.”

  Lyra pulled away. “I doubt it. I really have to go.”

  She dashed out of the door and ran to her car. Something about Leopold made her nervous and uncomfortable. It was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at her. She might be shy but she was not stupid. She knew there was something off about him.

  Backing down the driveway, she dodged another car turning in. She let the roof down as she started down the road, enjoying the fe
el of the wind on her face. It was only a short drive to the village in St. Simons and she took her time.

  Chelsey was waiting in the parking lot of the restaurant when she pulled up. “Where have you been? I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up. Come on! I want to get a table close to the stage.”

  Lyra followed Chelsey inside the restaurant and looked around. The entire house had been renovated. The inside had been partially gutted to form one enormous room. At one end was a small stage. Tables were scattered throughout the room and on the wrap-around porch, decorated with small, colored, glass candleholders and rose-colored tablecloths. Along the back wall was a large archway though which the bar area could be seen.

  About half of the tables were filled, but many of those were occupied with people who had already finished their meal and were preparing to leave. Several people walked in behind them, waiting to be seated.

  The host led them to a table close to the stage and they took a seat. Chelsey lit a cigarette and looked critically at Lyra. “So, whose grandmother did you mug?”

  For a moment, Lyra looked at her in confusion, not understanding the comment. But following Chelsey’s eyes she quickly realized what she meant. “Do me a favor and don’t start, okay? I’ve already been through that discussion with Lexi and I really don’t need to hear it again.”

  Chelsey threw up her hands and leaned back in her chair with a laugh. “Hey, you don’t have to bite my head off!”

  A waiter walked up to their table and Chelsey turned her attention to him, flashing a bright, flirtatious smile. “Bring me a screwdriver, handsome, and make it heavy on the vodka.”

  “Just iced tea for me.” Lyra’s request was much softer and accomplished without actually looking directly at the waiter.

  As soon as the waiter left, Chelsey started again. “Look, Lyra, I’m really not trying to get in your shit or anything but you are my best friend and I have to tell you that you look like a bag lady. I mean, that dress is really awful. I just don’t get it! You have a great body but you always cover it up with baggy, droopy clothes like you’re ashamed of yourself. While we’re home this summer, why don’t we do some shopping and put you together a cute new wardrobe?”

  Lyra looked at Chelsey, taking in the short, tight skirt and low-cut clinging top and shook her head. “Chels, I’d feel like a fool wearing the stuff you wear. It’s just not me. Besides, I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

  “Well, there’s no danger of that, in that dress.” Chelsey started to say more but her attention was diverted by the host stepping out onto the stage.

  He smiled at everyone and turned on the microphone. “Good evening and welcome. We hope you’re all enjoying your dinner—and to make your evening more enjoyable we’re proud to introduce a very talented magician who is here to entertain you. Please give a big hand to Nicodemus Zampella!”

  Chelsey looked over at Lyra and grinned as she clapped and cheered enthusiastically. Lyra watched the host leave then turned to thank the waiter who was delivering their drinks. When she turned back around her eyes widened.

  “Isn’t he an absolute dream?” Chelsey leaned over and whispered.

  Lyra couldn’t respond. Her heart was thumping away in her throat and a nervous perspiration dampened her skin. She was shocked by her own reactions. It was as if she were standing face-to-face with a beautiful yet deadly animal, compelling and frightening at the same time.

  Reprimanding herself for being foolish, she forced herself to disregard the reactions. For once in her life, she agreed with Chelsey. Nicodemus Zampella was very handsome. He was around six feet tall and of slim build. By the way his black knit shirt hugged his body it was easy to see the firm muscles beneath the material. His hair was black and thick, worn long enough to brush the top of his shoulders.

  Prominent cheekbones cast shadows in oblique angles on his face from the glare of the overhead lights. His lips were slightly full and he had deep set, piercing dark eyes, framed by thick dark lashes.

  Something flitted through her mind as she watched. Like an old memory that refused to be captured. It was as if she’d seen him before, but she knew she hadn’t. She dismissed the feeling and concentrated on his act.

  Lyra watched in captivated silence as he completed his first trick. The audience clapped as he finished and he looked around and smiled. As his eyes fell on Lyra, his smile widened and she blushed to the roots of her hair, sure he had seen her gawking at him. She smiled nervously then looked away, twirling the ice in her glass for a few moments.

  When she looked back up, he was performing again. She tried not to stare but found that she could not stop herself. The only time she looked away was whenever his gaze would move in the direction of her table.

  Chelsey has no such inhibitions. Each time he turned toward them she smiled and waved flirtatiously, tossing her hair and giving him enticing looks. Lyra found herself wondering for the thousandth time how it must feel to be so secure in your appearance. She envied Chelsey’s self-assurance and wished she could find a little of her own.

  In comparing Chelsey to herself, she realized that Chelsey had every reason to be self-assured. She was young, attractive and had a nice body. She was also completely at ease with her own sexuality and didn’t mind letting anyone know it.

  To Lyra’s disappointment, the magician’s act lasted only half an hour. She clapped enthusiastically along with everyone else as he took a bow and left the stage then looked over at Chelsey who was squirming in her seat.

  Chelsey gave one look around then jumped up. “Be back in a sec!”

  Lyra supposed she was off to the ladies room. She sat twirling the ice in her glass, thinking about the handsome magician. The odd feeling of déjà vu persisted. Chelsey returned with an exuberant smile and once more Lyra pushed the feeling aside.

  “I asked the manager if he’d invite Nicodemus over to our table so we could meet him and buy him a drink, and he said he’d have him come right over!”

  “Chelsey!” Lyra was suddenly nervous. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

  Chelsey was paying no attention to Lyra as she rumbled around in her purse. “How do I look? Is my hair okay? How about my makeup? Damn! Where is my lipstick?”

  She looked around and saw the manager talking to the magician. “Shit! Quick! Do I look okay?”

  “Beautiful,” Lyra murmured as she watched the handsome man walk over to their table.

  Chelsey closed her purse and smiled up at him as he stopped beside them. “Hi! Won’t you have a seat? We appreciate you joining us. We just wanted to tell you how much we enjoyed your show. You were just great! Can we buy you a drink? Oh! My name’s Chelsey, Chelsey Quarterman, and this is my friend, Lyra.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Nick smiled warmly at Lyra as he sat down. “I’m Nick.”

  Lyra looked over at him with a ghost of a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. You really were wonderful.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  Chelsey reached over and put her hand on his arm, smiled then pursed her lips. “So, Nick, where did you come up with that odd stage name? I mean Nicodemus Zampella? Honestly, it sounds like something out of an old black and white movie.”

  “Well, Nicodemus is my name, but Zampella is my stage name.”

  “So what’s your real name?”

  “Austin.”

  “Well that sure beats the hell out of Zampella!” Chelsey grinned.

  Lyra couldn’t help but think that she had just stuck her foot in her mouth. She would’ve been speechless with embarrassment. But not Chelsey. She launched into a long-winded speech about how she had always just loved magicians, how fascinating magic was, and how she would just adore learning more about it.

  Nick looked at Lyra who was staring pointedly at the table. She looked up and met his eyes and he smiled at her. She smiled shyly then looked down again. He continued to watch her as Chelsey talked. A fleeting thought crossed his mind. What would she think to know that he h
ad been waiting for her for a very long time?

  She continued to stare at the table and he found himself wishing she would look up. He wanted to see her eyes again. Large and oval, they seemed to dominate her face, the gold shining like brilliant gem, almost as if emitting a light all their own. Thick, dark lashes rimmed their verdant glow, matched by dark, delicate brows set in a perfectly symmetrical tanned face that was devoid of all artifice.

  He studied her face as Chelsey chattered on. Devoid of makeup, she appeared almost childlike. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a long braid that reached almost to her waist. He could tell from her bare arms and graceful neck that she was slim, yet firmly muscled, and wondered why she hid herself in the baggy, rather old-fashioned dress. In fact, her entire appearance gave him the idea that she went to lengths to make herself appear as unattractive as possible. That was all the better for him.

  Lyra looked up and saw him watching her. She blushed and looked over at Chelsey who had barely taken time to breathe, she was talking so fast. For a few minutes she kept her eyes focused on Chelsey, wanting to look at Nick, but afraid to.

  At last, their waiter interrupted Chelsey’s running monologue to ask if they wanted another drink. Chelsey ordered another drink but Lyra declined. Nick shook his head and stood. “I really need to get backstage and get my things gathered up. Thanks for coming and I enjoyed meeting you both.”

  “You’re leaving?” Chelsey was noticeably disappointed and surprised.

  “Yeah, sorry. I’m working tomorrow and I need to get home. Unfortunately magic doesn’t pay very well so I can’t afford to lose my day job.”

  “But it’s not even ten! Surely, you don’t have to be home this early? Why don’t you get your stuff and then maybe we can go somewhere?”

  Nick looked over at Lyra who wasn’t saying a word. She looked up at him and he shrugged. “Okay, sure. Just let me get my things.”