by Julia Derek
He looked past me, tenting his fingers over the table and exhaling slowly.
“What are we going to tell Neera? She’ll want to see him again, continue the painting we started. I won’t let him see her right now. God only knows what he’ll say or do next. He’s too unstable. It’s not good for a little kid to be around a young, violent man like him. I should never have agreed to you talking about him to her in the first place.”
“Please don’t be so hard on him,” I said. “He’s not a bad person. He just has a lot of demons in his head. Why don’t you let me talk to Neera about Shane? I’ll have ways to distract her until she begins to forget about ever having known Shane. When she does bring Shane up again, just tell her that he had to go on an urgent trip and we don’t know when he’ll be back. When he’s back, you guys will continue with the painting. By then, she won’t remember his name.”
“Okay. What about the studio in Astoria? I don’t want him to go back there. I’ll need the keys back. How will I get the keys back?”
“When I have spoken to him, I’ll tell him that, for right now, you don’t want him to be using the studio.”
“Fine. And you’ll take the keys from him?”
“No, it’s better if you do it. After I have spoken to him. He can give them to you directly.”
He glared at me. “Why? I don’t want to see him again. Why can’t he give them to you?”
I attempted a patient smile. “Ariel, it’s better if he hears why he’s being punished directly from you. He’ll understand and respect you for doing it. In fact, once he realizes how out of line he was, I’m pretty sure he’ll be telling you that he doesn’t deserve to be using your studios and offer the keys back by himself. All you’ll need to do is show up.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes, I do.”
Ariel gave a defeated nod. “Then that’s what I will do.”
28
I was lying in a hotel bed, naked, waiting for the man who’s made me come alive to come join me again. He’s in the other room, picking up champagne for us. Physically, I desire him almost as much as I desired Peter. I never thought that would happen. I never thought I would meet another man that would make me lust after him like that, give me multiple orgasms. That’s why you never should say never. I met him only a couple of months after I’d gotten married for a second time, and under similar circumstances as I had met Ariel. Well, I wasn’t in a bar, pouring alcohol into my system; I was in a restaurant. But I was seated at the bar counter where I was enjoying a late lunch on my own, wishing I’d be able to have a drink with my meal. I was four months pregnant with Neera and trying not to eat more than I usually did. Because I couldn’t drink, I had resorted to overeating instead. Unlike when I had been pregnant with Shane almost two decades earlier, I craved carbs all day long, and the worst kinds. I wanted to eat dessert, and primarily American cheesecake or flour-free chocolate cake. There was something about the consistency of cheesecake and that rich kind of chocolate cake that satisfied me on a primal level.
Unfortunately, the urge for sweets had made me balloon three sizes, far more than needed for a healthy pregnancy. In fact, the doctor had warned me not to gain more as my blood sugar levels were already high, and so was my blood pressure. He had encouraged me to start exercising, but I rarely felt like it. I preferred to just sit down and write on my new movie, or watch movies on my laptop for inspiration when I got stuck with the writing. I did all of that and more in my cushy home office, which had become my sanctuary. I was working on a movie that I’d hopefully be able to sell before I got the rights back to Born Evil. My goal was to write something that wasn’t dark. Something more along the lines of Pretty Woman. Pretty Woman was the only commercially successful chick flick I could stand. That is, unless Gwyneth Paltrow starred in the movie. She is the only commercially successful actress I like, but she hasn’t done anything good lately. In fact, there was little coming out of Hollywood I enjoyed these days and I wanted to correct that. I wanted to write a great movie. Well, a second great movie. Born Evil was most definitely a great, original movie. Each time I thought about how Larry, the executive producer, had pulled the plug on it, I went hot with anger. I’d make him suffer for as long as possible before I killed him. The thought of it always made me smile.
My soon-to-be lover sat down beside me at the bar counter and ordered a tuna tartare and a beet salad plus an iced tea. I felt like a pig eating my giant cheesecake when I heard him telling the bartender what he wanted to eat.
He was tall and well-built, attractive in a boy-next-door way. I estimated him to be at least three years younger than me, maybe more. We got to talking and I instantly liked him, and I could tell he liked me, too. It turned out he was a trainer at a studio in the city. When I asked him if he took on new clients, he told me, “Only very special people” with a meaningful glint in the eye.
That’s how our relationship began. He became my trainer and I used him six days a week. He had the magic touch, enabling me to stop gaining weight by making healthier choices and taking me for long walks when we weren’t in the studio. When Neera was born, it took him only four months to get me back in the shape I used to be. Better even.
At some point after that, our relationship began to change and we became lovers. I took up running and swapped half of our workout sessions for secret sexual encounters at various hotels in the city. Being a popular trainer, he didn’t mind. Another year passed and I developed a taste for working out on my own, but I kept seeing him for sex a few times a week. To simplify our encounters, I hired him as my driver. He’s still my driver. Well, he drives both me and Ariel. His name is Jordan Black.
Lately, Ariel and I have separate bedrooms and rarely get it on, thank God. I barely have to give him blowjobs any longer. Only once a week now instead of every other night. When I do, I make sure I’ve had a few drinks before. It sucks—no pun intended—but at least I don’t have to spread my legs for him. I have never been able to stand that old man touching me, but I knew that, if I could produce a child for him, I was set for life. Even if he chose to divorce me, which he scarcely would but one could never be too careful, he would have to give me lots and lots of alimony. After all, I’m used to a certain lifestyle, and so is Neera.
It was when I found out that Shane would be released on parole after his first hearing with the parole board that I decided I’d use Shane to kill Ariel. Not only would I get all of my husband’s money, but I would also send Shane back behind bars. I’d kill two flies with one stone. Neera would never be able to access her money because I’d be sure to kill her long before she turned 21. All of his fortune would remain in my hands.
“You’re looking good enough to eat,” Jordan said and handed me a tall flute of chilled champagne, running his fingers over my stomach.
I took it and smiled at him. “Then that is what you should do.”
29
I went to visit Shane three days after he had come for dinner and accused me of killing his imaginary friend. I wanted to see how he was doing. If he had calmed down since he’d been escorted out of our penthouse. Neither Ariel nor I had heard from him, but I knew from my lover, who also acted as one of my spies once in a while, that Shane seemed okay. He was going to work and to the gym every day.
Since I had the keys to Shane’s apartment, I helped myself inside and took a seat on the loveseat while I waited for him to come home. He usually ate right after hitting the gym on weekday evenings and there was no reason for him to deviate off schedule tonight. I kept lover boy in the vicinity in case Shane snapped when he saw me and tried to do something to me. As big and strong as he had become, I wasn’t about to take any chances. I’d developed ugly bruises on my arms where he had grabbed me the other day. By vicinity, I meant Jordan was currently in the apartment above Shane’s, where Sophie supposedly lived. No one had lived there for a few weeks.
As soon as I discovered that my son was hallucinating, I bribed the woman who lived ther
e and rented the place myself. The second I had figured out that Shane had an imaginary neighbor, whose full name he’d told me, I even had the name on the mailbox downstairs changed to Sophie Restivo. When I left his apartment that day, I went to a neighborhood drugstore where I bought a black Sharpie marker and some blank white labels. I hurried back to the apartment building and put a sticker with Sophie’s name on the mailbox belonging to the apartment above Shane’s. Then I tiptoed up to the third floor and knocked on the door for apartment 3 A. If I was lucky, Ella Stoyanova, which was the name of the woman who rented the apartment, was home.
She wasn’t, so I wrote her a note that I shoved under the door. I briefly explained that it was crucial she contacted me. I claimed to have found something very personal that belonged to her that could be potentially embarrassing. I hadn’t of course, but that line was usually effective when you wanted strangers to get back to you and not first call the police.
Ella did call me that same night and agreed to meet at a bar in Queens so I could explain what I had. I told her it would be much too complicated to do so over the phone. Thankfully, she didn’t argue.
She showed up with a beefy guy about her age, 25ish. I apologized for having to lie to her, but I hadn’t been able to think of another way to get her to see me in person so fast. Then I proceeded to offer her $50,000 in cash if she moved out of the apartment the following day during the hours Shane worked. I had originally planned on offering $100,000, but when I saw that Ella and her boyfriend looked like homeless people, I instantly cut my offer in half. The apartments in the building rented for $800, so $50,000 must be a small fortune to her.
As I had expected, she accepted my offer, went back to her place and started packing. I told her I’d add another ten thousand bucks if she left most of the furniture, which was very cheap. I wanted to minimize the chance that she ran into Shane while carrying stuff down the stairs. It was an offer too good for her to refuse, and she didn’t, just insisted on bringing the rugs and curtains. I let her.
She told the landlord that she had to go back home to Bulgaria to take care of her sick mother, and that she had found another tenant to take her place. The landlord hadn’t objected to any of our dealings, as long as he could jack up the monthly rent 200 bucks and I accepted.
When Ella was gone, I left the front door unlocked.
I needed for Shane to really believe Sophie existed, so it was all about the details. Now that I was the tenant, I didn’t have to worry about anyone complaining about the sticker on mailbox 3 A saying Sophie Restivo. I could put whatever name I wanted on it. Maybe Shane wouldn’t ever bother to check the name on her mailbox, but it was best not to cut corners. I could always tell Ariel I had used all the cash I’d given Ella for charity. He was well aware how much I loved to donate to charities. (In reality, all the donations went to a secret bank account in Switzerland.) This diligence, combined with my patience, is part of why I have managed to do whatever I want throughout my life with impunity. It pays off to be extremely careful.
A lesser person would have gotten caught eventually, but not me. I don’t make mistakes. Ever.
I heard a key enter the lock and then Shane’s front door swung open. And there he was, my son, all six two of him. It never ceased to amaze me how much he had grown during his stay at Ramsdale Juvenile Detention Center. When he had been jailed at age 13, he had been a scrawny kid. Yes, he had been fairly tall for his age, but his long arms and legs had been thin like reeds. Not so any more. He was a man now, muscular and strong, and with a handsome face that reminded me of Peter. The pretty blue-green eyes were exactly the same, and so was the defined jawline and the light brown hair, which had grown out about half an inch. It was strange that I didn’t feel any warmth toward him given the likeness to his father. It didn’t matter that he was part of me, either. All I could feel was an intense hatred for this creature who’d killed my husband, the love of my life.
If Shane was surprised that I was in his apartment, he didn’t let it on. He just took me in as he shut the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Are you here to tell me what you did to Sophie?” he asked, holding my gaze.
So his imaginary friend hadn’t made another appearance then. Very good to know. Even so, I would stick with my original plan.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shane,” I said calmly. “I’m sorry your friend appears to be missing, but I can assure you that I have nothing to do with her disappearance. I promise.”
He laughed unhappily. “Do you seriously expect me to believe anything you’re telling me?”
I feigned outrage, even though we both knew he was making an excellent point. “Yes, of course, Shane! I’m your mother. I told you that I’ve forgiven you for what you did. It’s in the past now. Please, let’s just move on.” I had to be very careful when I spoke of having forgiven him for killing Peter. I could never be specific, mention anyone by name in case Shane was taping me. I couldn’t allow him to have any evidence in regard to what I had done to him, not to mention why.
He shook his head in disgust. “Please stop it. Just stop it. You have not forgiven me for killing Dad, which was an accident anyway, and I don’t think you ever will. You’re not capable of such acts. It would make you human and you’re not.”
“‘It would make you human and you’re not’… What an awful thing to say to your mother!” I glared at him, smiling inside. This was quite entertaining. Well, it didn’t seem like he was taping me then.
He exhaled, looking defeated. “Where is Sophie?”
I ran a hand over my hair, pretending to be weary. “I told you I have no idea what’s happened to your friend, Shane. Maybe you should report it to the police? I came here only to see how you were doing. To tell you that I’m not mad at you for accusing me of having killed Sophie, never mind for assaulting me. I want us to make amends. Is that too much to ask for?”
He took a couple steps toward me and hissed, his eyes slits, “Please explain why you mouthed that you did know where Sophie was when I was in your apartment for dinner.”
I twisted my face into a shocked expression. “I did what? I mouthed I knew where Sophie was?” I scoffed like I had never heard something so ridiculous in my life. “I did no such thing! That would be crazy. I’m sorry to say that you’re imagining things again, Shane. You often did that as a kid.”
He looked at me with a blank face. “I did, huh? So you’re telling me it never happened?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I am. And if you keep it up, I’m going to have to tell your parole officer about it.”
That seemed to do it. Shane’s whole appearance changed and his shoulders slumped, like he was done. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll find out what you did on my own.”
I sighed heavily. “Shane, all I want is for you to get better. Can’t you see that?”
He didn’t answer.
“Shane, why don’t we start over? Pretend what happened that unfortunate night never did? Ariel is willing to do so as well. He’ll even let you keep using the studios. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That you apologize and cut all ties with Neera. For now, at least. We’ll reevaluate later.”
30
My big son stared at me and he did not look happy. I supposed I couldn’t blame him; he and his sister had hit it off from the get-go. I could tell he really enjoyed her. But Ariel didn’t want Shane near Neera any longer, so there was nothing I could do. I needed for Ariel and Shane to see each other at least once more in the warehouse. I was of course pleased about not having Neera around when they met up there and I made it seem like Shane had attacked Ariel, killing him.
The situation was already complicated enough without a bratty, nosy kid running around. So many things could go wrong with my plan, and I needed for it all to work out. Who knew when I’d get a chance like this again? Most likely never and it was getting increasingly difficult for me to play the happy wife around Arie
l. I hated his guts. Being around him and Neera was making me want to drink more, and I couldn’t consume more alcohol than I was already doing. It wasn’t healthy.
It will all work out, I reassured myself as my son and I stared each other down. I had the waitress and her coworkers to vouch for how unstable Shane was to the authorities. Combined with James and our server Robert having seen Shane lash out at me the other night, no one would question his temper and violent tendencies. Our house staff would make excellent witnesses in court. It didn’t hurt that Otto Barini could confirm that Shane was drinking, violating his parole rules. He could easily have been drunk when he met up with Ariel. After Ariel was found dead afterward, no one that mattered would question who or what had killed him. Shane belonged behind bars in an adult prison. He was an incurable psychopath.
“What about the painting I’m doing of Ariel and Neera?” he finally asked, sounding years younger suddenly and I knew I had won.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to either finish that from memory or toss it out. The good news is, Ariel still wants you to paint him if you agree to not see Neera at least for the time being and apologize profusely for what you said and did to me.” I leaned toward him beseechingly. “Do it, Shane. Show your goodwill and how sorry you are for acting out like that at his house. When Ariel sees how nice you are and that it was only a mistake, he’ll let you see Neera again. He just needs some time to get over it. So please accept his offer. You may not get another chance.”
Shane raked a hand through his short hair and glanced out the window for a moment, looking like he was pondering my words. He would make my life so much easier if he just said yes. The sooner I could get the two of them together, the better.