by Dianne Emley
Evelyn and Tom silently watched her with surprise as she shoved the liver into her mouth and ate it with pleasure. She followed with a beef skewer.
Paige blurted, “You’re not a vegetarian anymore?”
Rory looked at the skewer stick that she’d just picked clean. “Guess I’m not. The meat just looked great. Tastes wonderful.”
Evelyn gestured to Hector to refill her drink. “Your body must need it to build your blood.”
“I think I’m going to need my strength.” Rory handed Rosario the empty plate. “Given what Richie’s plotting behind my back.” She surprised herself with her directness. The notion had entered her mind fully formed, as did the compulsion to voice it. Junior had never been shy about his disdain for Richie and had given her the courage to take him on.
Richie pulled his lips away from his big teeth in a smile that looked like a snarl. “Plotting? What are you talking about?”
“You’re planning a coup to oust me from Langtry.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“A gut feeling.”
“Granted, there are concerns about your health.”
“My head injury was a happy accident for you, wasn’t it?” Rory smiled at him.
He bristled as everyone else gaped at her.
Rory was excited to say these things to Richie, to speak the truth, but this wasn’t the right time or place. The interaction was emboldening Junior. She had to dilute his presence. She began scratching her skin harder.
Richard muttered something while Evelyn sprang from her chair and proclaimed, “The caviar is here.”
Rosario pushed a silver cart with a bowl of caviar nestled in ice and plates piled with chopped egg, onions, capers, sour cream, and toast tips.
As everyone else became overly enthusiastic about the caviar, Rory focused on methodically scratching her thigh, counting with each scratch. It helped to draw her fractured mind back together. Up one, two, three. Down one, two, three. She could not allow herself to go there, with Junior. Still, “there” was rattling in her head like a dangerous but irresistible obsession.
“Where is Junior Lara?” Paige asked Leland.
Rory realized she’d lost the thread of the conversation. She hoped no one had noticed.
“At Lincoln Heights Community Hospital, east of downtown L.A. Miserable neighborhood. He’s in something called a subacute care unit. I had to put on latex gloves and a paper gown and mask just to go into his room because he’s infected with antibiotic-resistant staph.”
“Ugh,” Paige said. “Are you sure you can’t get it?”
“Not generally from short-term contact and if your immune system is working well.”
“What color are the masks and gowns?” Rory asked.
“What color?” Leland repeated with surprise. “Why, they’re yellow.”
Paige babbled on. “I saw a show on TV about people who’d been in comas for years and they looked like shriveled up dolls.”
“Let’s put it this way. No one here would recognize him.” Leland reached for another toast tip, ladled on sour cream, and topped it with caviar. “Junior’s mother told me he’s dying.”
“Dying?” Rory gaped.
Leland chewed his canapé before answering. “His organs are finally giving out. Common with long-term coma patients. That or pneumonia. I left when the nurse came to suction his lungs.”
“Suction his lungs?” Rory said.
Evelyn fussed with the collar of her dress. “Can we please change the subject?”
“No.” Rory sat forward. “I want to hear about it.”
Everyone looked at her with dismay. Tom looked concerned.
“Junior has a tracheostomy tube,” Leland explained, “and he’s on a ventilator because he can’t breathe on his own. Since he can’t swallow, secretions go into his lungs and they have to be suctioned out through a catheter.”
“And he feels like he’s being strangled,” Rory said distantly, staring at the floor. She continued scratching her thigh and counting, her hand tucked under her dress. Up one, two, three. Down one, two, three.
Leland said, “I didn’t stay to watch.”
“Leland, please,” Evelyn said. “This adds a titillating, freak-show aspect to our cocktail hour, but really.”
Leland wiped his fingers on a napkin. “One last thing. I’d just parked my car in the hospital lot when I saw Detective Auburn walking to his car. He’d just been there to see Junior.”
“Why?” Richard asked.
“He came to talk to Junior and Danny’s mom and sister about the toxicology results from Danny’s autopsy. I asked if he could share any information with me. He said that the only drugs found in Danny’s body were ibuprofen and some other painkillers. But then he told me something very interesting.”
Apprehension welled in Rory’s chest, even though she felt she already knew what he was going to say. Junior tugged at her as if trying to distract her. She fiercely scratched her thigh. Up one, two, three. Down one, two, three. Up one, two, three…
“The coroner found that Danny Lara had pneumonia and his kidneys were in bad shape. His family was completely unaware that he was ill. But what’re most fascinating are the sores. Danny had three large, deep lesions on his back. One across each shoulder blade and a third across the small of his back and his buttocks.”
“Gross.” Paige set down her plate and pushed it away.
UP onetwothree, DOWN onetwothree…
“The lesions look like pressure sores or bedsores,” Leland continued.
Evelyn noticed Rory’s restless hand.
“That’s strange enough,” Leland said, “but here’s what’s even more bizarre and another reason that Detective Auburn was there.”
UPONETWOTHREE, DOWNONETWOTHREE…
“The sores are identical to ones that Junior Lara has on his back.”
Rory said aloud, “Up one two three…”
“Ro!” Evelyn bolted from her chair, bumping into the coffee table and nearly toppling the glasses there. “You’re bleeding.”
Paige yelped.
Rory looked at her bloody fingers and the blood that was starting to drip down her leg, surprised at the damage she’d inflicted on herself.
Tom grabbed a napkin and kneeled to blot the blood, blocking Evelyn. He flipped up Rory’s dress and tried to remain composed as he patted the damage while hiding it from the others. “Rory had a run-in with some rose bushes earlier. She’s fine.”
Everyone else was stunned into silence. Hector and Rosario froze in their work. Evelyn hovered, trying to see around Tom.
“I took a wrong step.” Rory stood, wobbling on her feet.
Tom steadied her. She began walking from the room. Tom supported her with his arm around her waist.
“Rory?” Evelyn started across the ballroom.
“Mom, I’m fine,” Rory said without turning.
“We’re okay, Evelyn,” Tom said. “Thanks.”
As everyone in the ballroom exchanged glances, Rory’s and Tom’s footsteps faded down the marble corridor.
40
Tom began leading Rory to the elevator to go to her rooms upstairs, but she pulled him past it.
“Rory, where are you going?”
She went out the front door and onto the porch. He closed the door behind them.
“Ro, please.” Tom grabbed her shoulders. She faced him. The look in her eyes almost caused him to let her go, but he held on. “You once told me that you could tell me anything, trust me with anything. I feel like I don’t know you anymore. I saw sores on your back and scratches and bruises all over when we made love this afternoon. What’s going on?”
She shook him off and headed down the steps, holding on to the banister. “I have to see Junior. Can you drive me?”
“What? Why?” Tom went after her and took her arm. “Rory, please.”
She saw the anguish in his face and softened her tone. “Honey, something’s taken hold of me and I don’t know how to ge
t away. I tried to stop it, to resist, but it’s more powerful than me.”
“What is?”
“What happened to Danny Lara is happening to me. Junior has hold of my mind and I guess my body too. You saw the sores on my back. They’re like Danny’s and Junior’s. If I can see Junior, maybe we can figure a way out.”
“Rory, I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if seeing Junior just makes things worse?”
“Junior’s not trying to hurt me. He needs help. I want to help. I want to know what happened that night to my sister and him. He didn’t know he’d end up hurting the people he loves.”
Tom was looking at her as if she were crazy. “Tom, please. I have to see Junior. It’s the only chance I have.”
As he was helping her into the car, Evelyn came out onto the porch. “Where are you going?”
Rory rolled down the car window. “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry.”
Evelyn watched as the car pulled away. She went into the house and returned to the ballroom. Everyone looked at her expectantly as she headed to the bar, grabbed a chilled glass from the ice, and handed it to Hector to fill from the pitcher of sour-apple martinis. She turned, raised her glass to the group, and took a long drink.
Paige spoke first. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but—”
“Paige…” Richie warned.
“—from the minute Rory came down, she was creeping me out.”
“She’s fine,” Evelyn said. “She’s just had a long day. This group would sear the flesh off anyone.”
“I think there’s more going on with Rory than you’re telling us, Evelyn,” Richie said.
“I think there’s more going on than you and your father will admit to. Such as both of you using Rory’s accident to step up your plan to oust her from Langtry Cosmetics, the company she created and built. Richie, your ego can’t handle Rory’s success. You want to be in charge and be in the spotlight.”
Richard chuckled. “I love that active imagination of yours, darling.”
“Have another drink, Ev,” Richie said in an audible whisper.
Evelyn waved her glass. “Oh, we’re into it now, aren’t we? Tossing off the tiny barbs like only family members can. None large enough to kill, but thousands over a lifetime capable of taking a person down.”
Leland, knowing he was trapped until the scene played itself out, requested another glass of pinot noir and relaxed with his legs crossed at the ankles. Paige was watching as if it were a tennis match.
Evelyn gestured to Hector to top off her glass. “We should all sit around a campfire one night and talk about the things I’ve allegedly imagined, especially some of the things that have gone on in this house right under my nose.”
Leland sat forward as if preparing for a blow. Richie glowered and avoided his wife’s eyes. Richard’s eyes darkened as he looked at Evelyn.
Evelyn was smug. She finished her drink and sharply set the glass on the bar. “Maybe it’s high time for some of those figments of my imagination to see the light of day.”
Richard said, “Don’t, Evelyn.”
They stared at each other across the several yards that separated them. Everyone held their breaths except Evelyn. She drew back her lips and opened her mouth. No sound came out. Her shoulders shook. She moved her hands to her hair, grabbing handfuls of red locks. She took in a long breath and screamed.
Paige pressed her hand against her chest, her mouth gaping.
Evelyn inhaled again and screamed again. After the last echo had reverberated through the grand room, she started to laugh. She bent over, holding her ribs. She leaned back, crowing at the ceiling. She pointed at them, struggling to catch her breath. “You should see your faces. If I only had a camera.”
A uniformed maid came in ringing a brass dinner bell.
“It’s okay,” Evelyn said to her alarmed employee. She turned to her guests. “Dinner is served in the dining room. I’m going to take my leave, but please enjoy the wonderful meal the cook has prepared.”
Starting to laugh again, Evelyn wiped tears from her eyes as she left the room and turned down the corridor.
Richard walked to the bar and leaned his elbows against it. The rest of them looked at one another, thinking the show was over, when Evelyn reappeared at the top of the stairs.
“I just wanted you to know how wonderful that felt. You should all try losing control, just for a minute. If you ask me, sanity is overrated.” Again she left, her tinkling laughter and the clacking of her high heels receding.
“Brava.” Richie began clapping.
Richard turned from the bar. He rubbed his forehead with one hand. “There’s a wonderful dinner ready to be served. Please enjoy it. I apologize but I’m taking my leave. Good night.” He left.
Normally unflappable Leland was rattled. He stood. “I’m going to push off too. Good night, Richie. Paige.”
Hector and Rosario looked at each other and at the last two guests.
Richie said, “Well, I’m hungry.”
Paige shrugged. “A shame to let it go to waste.”
They headed toward the dining room.
“I probably shouldn’t say this,” Paige said for the second time that evening, “but Evelyn drinks too much.”
“Gee, Paige, ya think?” Richie said.
41
“Let me call your doctor. There has to be a medical explanation.” Tom steered toward the side of the road, preparing to turn the car around.
Rory sounded frustrated. “And tell her what? There’s no medical cure for what’s happening to me.”
He moved back into traffic. “Look. I’ve seen enough since the night of the ball to concede that something strange is going on, but Junior and you having some paranormal connection…Seriously?”
A car behind them honked. Tom realized he was so distracted that he was going well below the speed limit. He sped up. “Ro, it’s too crazy. I can’t believe it.”
“Please believe me. I need your help.”
“Why are you wearing the engagement ring Junior gave you?”
She twisted it on her finger and looked out the side window. “I…To remind me to give it back to Junior’s family.”
He shot a glance at her and set his jaw. He took a minute to calm down. More softly, he said, “I think going to see Junior is a bad idea. Let’s say that Danny had this paranormal connection to Junior. Junior could have told Danny to kill you. When Danny didn’t do it, Junior decided to lure you to him, to kill you himself.”
“You’re patronizing me.”
“I’m not. I’m proposing ideas for the sake of argument. Assuming this mind and body connection is real, why are you convinced that Junior doesn’t want to harm you?”
“He tried to warn me about Danny. He saved me from Danny. Our physical connection is a side effect. It’s out of his control.”
“He killed your sister.”
“I never believed that. Not in my heart. I just mouthed the family line. Junior was a peaceful soul. He loved life. And he doesn’t think that I murdered Anya and shot him.”
Tom turned his attention to getting on the freeway and merging into traffic. After a few moments, he said, “Why are you convinced that Junior had nothing to do with Anya’s murder? Can you read his mind?”
She turned to glare at him. “Why are you so invested in that scenario? Do you think I’d marry someone who’s capable of something like that? Do you think I was blind? That I didn’t know him? Do I not know you either?”
Tom’s hands on the steering wheel tightened. “Of course you know me. I don’t have secrets from you.”
She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow.
“The fact that I didn’t tell you about having been to your sister’s house is trivial. It doesn’t merit discussion.”
She faced forward. They drove the rest of the way in silence, until Tom exited the freeway. “Great neighborhood, like Leland said.”
Rory closed her eyes. Junior was awake. She could now tell the d
ifference. She was completely open to him. His room was as vivid as if she were already there, lying in his bed. Even clearer than that, with colors and textures beyond anything she’d experienced before. Sounds were extraordinary, making her prior hearing seem as if she’d been listening to a scratchy vinyl record. Her prior reality was insipid by comparison.
The sores on her back chafed. She felt a dull pain in her kidneys, and her breathing was shallow. She hadn’t told Tom any of that. She had secrets from him and they were building. There was so much she couldn’t tell him, especially that being with Junior was starting to feel like coming home. Beyond her feelings of warmth and home, there was something else in the background, hazy but becoming clearer, like a brightly lit room or passageway. Her eyes flew open.
“We’re here.” Tom parked in a white zone in front of the hospital. He turned and held both her hands between his. “Rory, I don’t want to fight anymore. I love you more than anything in the world. I would do anything for you. The thought of losing you…I can’t even comprehend it.”
Her eyes welled. “I love you, Tom. So much.”
“I’m begging you. Please let me take you to a doctor.”
She pulled her hands away. “So, you have been just humoring me.”
“Rory, I—”
“Look, I don’t know much for certain anymore, but I know this. Junior Lara is dying soon, and unless I find a way out, I’m dying with him.”
42
Evelyn roamed through Rory’s rooms, going outside onto the loggia and back in again, looking but not seeing, her mind racing, not focusing on a single thought. In the sitting room, she dropped onto the desk chair and put her head in her hands. She was too upset to cry.
On the desk were sheets of the Crane stationery and the spiral notebook she’d bought for Rory. Evelyn looked through the stationery. Rory had started a couple of thank-you notes, but her work had disintegrated, dropping off in mid-sentence, even mid-word. In the notebook, Rory had started a wedding guest list and made a few notes about possible locations. Following that were many pages of drawings in pencil, ink, and the colored pens that Rory had asked her to buy.