Answers For Julie (Book Nine In the Bodyguards of L.A. County Series)

by Cate Beauman

  Julie raised her brow. “Hawaii?”

  “Another tradition. I’ve been treating myself to the islands for over a decade.”

  Julie chewed her lip once again. “Are you sure?”

  “You bet. I’m going to change and enjoy a mud wrap.” Elaine walked to the bathroom.

  “Right this way, ladies.” Aimee stepped out and whisked them down the hall.

  “I feel awful,” Julie said as they followed Aimee to a luxurious treatment room.

  “You shouldn’t. It was a mix up.”

  “Your masseuses will be in momentarily.”

  “Thank you,” Julie mumbled as Aimee closed the door.

  Neve sat on the massage table next to her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.” She sat up straighter, mustering up a small smile.

  Neve nodded. “I was noticing that crease in your brow, the same one I get when I’m stewing.”

  Julie blinked and pressed her finger between her eyebrows. “Maybe I’m stewing a little.”

  “I have good ears if you need someone to listen.”

  She smiled. “Yes, you do.” She sighed. “Chase and I had a fight.”

  “I see.”

  “He’s pressuring me.”

  Neve frowned. “What about?”

  “The testing.” She met Neve’s eyes and looked away. “I’m—I’m not ready.”

  “When you are, we’ll move forward.”

  “Why doesn’t he understand that? Why can’t he just let me let this sink in?”

  “Because Chase is your warrior.” She took Julie’s hand, squeezing. “He wants to make this okay for you. He needs to know your heart and mind are settled. That’s what those who love us most want more than anything.”

  She shook her head, swallowing as Neve’s words made her heart hurt. “Chase doesn’t love me—at least not the way I think you mean.” She stood, too restless, too sad to stay still. “He might not even be there when we get back.” Her voice grew thick with emotion as her eyes filled. “I told him to go back to California.”

  Neve took Julie’s face in her hands. “He’ll be there when we go home, Julie.”

  She sniffled. “Maybe.”

  “Trust me.” She hugged her. “He’ll be there.”

  Julie hugged her back, resting her head on Neve’s shoulder. “I hope so. This isn’t the way I want to say goodbye this time.”

  Neve eased back, wiping at the tear making its way down Julie’s cheek. “Who says you have to say goodbye?”

  “Me. Him.” She smiled weakly to stop her lips from trembling again. “We decided we would take this week and make the best of it.” She shrugged. “Now I wish we hadn’t, because it can’t last.”

  “Tonight you’ll work everything out. You’ll both look stunning and dance.” She gently tapped Julie’s nose in a gesture that seemed familiar. “Let’s enjoy today. Let your troubles vanish for now, and have fun.”

  She nodded, soothed by their conversation. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Julie, for giving me this gift, for letting me be here to listen to your troubles and wipe away your tears. Now settle in and trust this wise old woman. I happen to know a thing or two.”

  Julie smiled. “You’re not old.” She and Neve lay under their blankets, and she closed her eyes, ready to enjoy her day. Hopefully Neve was right and Chase would be at the Porter Mansion when she returned.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chase walked down another mean street in Mattapan as snow spit from the darkening sky. So far the afternoon had been a complete loss, bringing him no closer to any new leads. In the last two hours, he’d crossed off every address he visited. Two of the places he’d stopped at weren’t even houses anymore; they’d been turned into Section Eight apartments. One of the other spots burned to the ground sometime in early 2004, and at the other five locations, no one knew who the hell Donnie was—or if they did or had, they weren’t saying. Donnie may have had a hard time pegging him as the law, but no one else did.

  He slowed in front of a hole-in-the-wall, three-story building and buzzed the apartment on the second floor—Donnie’s residence from March 1990 through mid-January of 1991. No one answered, and he pressed the buzzer again.

  “What the fuck you want?” a man hollered into the speaker.

  “I’m looking for Donnie Dorman.”

  “Who the fuck’s Donnie Dorman? Go away and leave me alone.”

  “Classy,” he muttered with a shake of his head and tried the downstairs apartment, pressing the next buzzer.

  “I’m not expecting anyone,” a woman’s voice said. “Go away.”

  “I’m looking for Donnie Dorman.” He waited ten seconds, his eyes narrowing when he didn’t get a response. He buzzed again. “Do you know Donnie Dorman?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  He glanced toward the barred windows, noticing the curtain moving ever so slightly to the left. He pushed the intercom button. “My name’s Chase. I’m looking for information on Donnie Dorman. He lived here in nineteen ninety.”

  “Are you a cop or something?”

  “FBI.” Or former, anyway, but he would leave that out for now.

  An older woman came out bundled up in her robe, holding a baseball bat. “You got a badge?”

  He reached in his wallet for his Ethan Cooke Security identification. “All I have is this. I’m Chase Rider. I’m looking into some information about Donnie Dorman.”

  “Why?” She settled her hand on her hip, looking at him suspiciously.

  “I’m trying to pin down potential illegal activities he may have been involved in.”

  The woman scoffed. “That boy was nothing but trouble.”

  “You knew him then?”

  She nodded. “Was his landlord. His apartment was right above mine.”

  He looked up to the light shining through the thin blanket covering the window.

  “I remember him well. Got myself an eidetic memory.” She tapped her temple.

  He wanted to kiss the woman’s cheek but nodded, keeping his face expressionless. He’d encountered more than a few witnesses who swore to photographic memories during his days with The Bureau. Most people didn’t remember anything more than the average. “Would you be willing to answer a few questions?”

  “I’m standing here, ain’t I?”

  He pulled out the picture of Miranda Keller with dyed black hair. “Do you know this woman?”

  Donnie’s old landlord took the photo, holding it close to her face, and nodded. “I remember her being around some. Damn bed squeaked all the time. Like rabbits, they were—when they weren’t fighting like lions.”

  “What did they fight about?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t know. Their voices were muffled mostly.”

  “How long did she hang around?”

  “Much of that fall and into the winter.”

  “What about the next summer—nineteen ninety-one?”

  “Couldn’t tell ya about the summer. I kicked that no-good bum out late January. Kept skipping out on the rent.”

  “So they had sex and fought?”

  She nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “What else comes to mind when you think of Dawn?” He pointed to Julie’s mother.

  “Not much brains in her head if she thought he was a good catch.”

  He rubbed his hand over his jaw as his potentially promising lead started to fizzle. “How often would you say she came around?” he tried again, not willing to let this go. There had to be something he could work with.

  “Often enough, I guess. But then there was another woman who came sniffing around when he was still with this one. Heavy set and ugly as sin—mousy brown hair, big nose, even bigger eyeglasses with that tint so many people had on their lenses back in those days. She liked to sneak in the back entrance.” She pointed to the side of the house. “Usually came in the dark, but I know who’s coming and going. Two timer is what he was.” She frowned. “Although the bed di
dn’t squeak when that one stopped by.”

  The stirring of excitement was back. There was something here after all. “Drugs. Could she have been his dealer?”

  She shook her head. “Donnie did lots of stupid, but he didn’t do drugs. Drank lots and smoked like two chimneys but don’t ever recall him finding that kind of trouble.”

  “Did he ever use a name with the other woman?”

  She pursed her lips. “Mmm. Henrietta, Hattie. No. No,” she said to herself, shaking her head. “I think it was Helen. Yes, Helen. I’m sure of it.”

  He nodded.

  “I imagine this one, Dawn, caught wind of his affair.” She tapped the picture. “She didn’t come around too often after the other started paying visits. By the time we had that big storm week before Christmas, she didn’t come at all.”

  “Do you feel fairly certain you saw Dawn after Thanksgiving but before Christmas?”

  “Yup. Couple times, at least. Last time I saw her, she’d changed her hair to some sort of terrible red—cut shorter to her chin too. It was my daughter’s birthday, and I remember thinking she could’ve been the clown at the party. I guess it wasn’t quite that bad, but not far off.”

  “When’s your daughter’s birthday?”

  “Just passed, it did. December fifteenth. Almost my Christmas baby.”

  His eyes sharpened on the landlord’s. “You saw Dawn leaving here on December fifteenth?”

  “Sure did.”

  “You’re positive of the date?”

  Her hand holding the bat went back to her hip as she snapped with the other. “How many babies you passed through your loins?”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, none.”

  “A woman knows when to celebrate her child’s birthdays.”

  “Right.” The snow started falling faster. He needed to get this back on track. “How was she dressed?”

  “Other than the hair, pretty normal, I guess. Jeans, a jacket—backpack.”

  “What about Helen? When would you say was the last time you saw her?”

  “Mmm, couple days before Christmas. Yes. Definitely right before Christmas. She and Donnie had quite a go around—almost called the cops when things started breaking against my walls. Didn’t see her after that. And Donnie started hiding from me right around then too, thinking I’d forget he owed me rent.” She shook her head. “Eventually I got him gone though.”

  “Did you happen to hear what they were arguing about?”

  “I was taking out the trash when she hurried up the back steps and pounded on his door. When Donnie opened up, Helen called Donnie an idiot and yelled something about him screwing everything up, but then it was muffled again, except for the stuff breaking.”

  Well, son of a bitch. “Did Helen drive here or walk?”

  “Walk. Never saw a car to speak of other than Donnie’s hunk of crap.”

  “This has been very helpful.” He handed over his card. “If anything else comes to mind, will you call?”

  “I can do that. He’s in prison, you know. Fool killed a man.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You best be getting yourself on out of here. Cop or not, this is no place for you after dark.”

  “Thanks.”

  She walked into her apartment, shut the door, and set several locks in place.

  He stepped back, looking toward the second-story window, then walked back around the building where Helen accessed the apartment on her visits. Interesting how Dawn walked through the front door and the mystery woman through the back.

  “Helen,” he murmured. He needed to find “ugly as sin” Helen and figure out who the hell she was. Donnie and Dawn may very well have had a partner. He was betting on it.

  ~~~~

  Julie stared out the window as the limo pulled through the gates of the Porter estate. She gripped her fingers in her lap, half-listening to Elaine and Neve chatting about Jacques’s incredible lunch and their favorite therapeutic treatments. She stayed quiet, leaning against the doorframe as her heart beat frantically the closer they moved to the house. For most of the day, she’d put her troubles to the back of her mind, concentrating instead on relaxing and enjoying the company of her two new friends; now they were home and her nerves were getting the better of her.

  Being at odds with anyone left her unsettled. She enjoyed harmony in all aspects of her life, but arguing with Chase was worse, because he meant so much and they had so little time. Neve was right, though. It was highly unlikely Chase had just up and left after a few nasty words. They simply needed to talk and clear the air—as soon as she went upstairs.

  The sleek black vehicle passed the fortress of tall pines, and the house, stunning with the snow falling and lights ablaze, came into view, but as the limo circled around to the front entrance, Julie’s heart sank. The rented Lexus wasn’t parked back by the garage in its usual spot. They were incredibly late—almost an hour with the turn in the weather and horrible rush-hour traffic. Chase should’ve been back by now.

  Neve took Julie’s hand, giving her fingers a squeeze as the chauffer opened the door. “He’ll come.”

  She nodded, but fear settled in her belly.

  “Cheer up, Buttercup.” Elaine gave her knee an encouraging pat. “Chase doesn’t strike me as the gorgeous yet stupid type. He’ll be here.”

  She smiled at Elaine’s frankness. “Thanks.”

  Elaine glanced at her watch and winced. “Less than fifteen minutes till show time. I need every second to get ready. I’ll see you two soon.” Elaine got out, accepting the umbrella the chauffer offered her in an attempt to keep her hair and makeup dry, and hurried toward the guesthouse twenty yards from the main property.

  Julie sighed and sent Neve a small smile. “I guess I’ll meet you downstairs in just a bit.”

  “Actually, I asked Ferra to bring your dress and supplies to my room. I thought it would be nice to have company while we finish our primping.”

  Her smile brightened, liking the idea of having someone to chat with instead of worrying about what her current relationship status was. “That sounds wonderful.” She scooted forward and stepped out into the cold, taking the second umbrella for herself and Neve.

  Neve grabbed her hand, and they ran up the steps.

  Ferra opened the door, her red hair twisted back in a tight bun. She was dressed in a starched white blouse and long black skirt—her formal attire for the night’s big events. “Here you are, both of you looking so radiant after a day of pampering.” She beamed.

  “Thank you.” Julie unzipped her coat, handing it to Neve’s housekeeper. “Has, um, have you heard from Chase?”

  “No, Ms. Julie. He hasn’t been back since he left this morning.”

  She nodded as hope started to fade. Chase’s meetings ended a while ago.

  “I’m sure he’ll be along though. Guests are due to arrive any moment now.”

  Neve handed over her purse and jacket. “Hold down the fort, will you, Ferra?”

  “You know I will.”

  “Let’s finish getting ready.” Neve hooked her arm through Julie’s as they started up the grand staircase. “You’ll soon see that everything’s going to turn out just fine.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” But as she forced another smile, she wasn’t so sure. Chase hadn’t called the house to tell Thomas or Ferra he was running late, and the car wasn’t here. Neither were good signs.

  “I’ll get the curling iron heated up, and we’ll fix the couple of curls that have lost their oomph on the way home.”

  Julie studied Neve’s stunning updo—not a hair out of place. “Your twist is holding well.”

  “I told Marley to go a little heavier on the spray when I noticed the snow picking up during our hair and makeup session.”

  Julie paused as they reached the top step, intending to put herself out of her misery and check to see if Chase had left her a voicemail on her phone she’d forgotten this morning, but the doorbell rang.

&nbs
p; “They’re here, Ms. Neve,” Thomas called from the entryway.

  “Shoot. Come on.” Neve and Julie jogged down to the master suite. “Make yourself at home,” Neve said, walking with her into the huge bathroom. “Ferra should have everything here you’ll need. She’s easy to depend on. Quite simply, she’s the best.”

  As if on cue, Ferra tapped on the doorframe, coming in with cheese and a variety of fruit arranged on a tray along with two tall glasses of ice water. “Hurry and have a bite now, girls. They’re arriving, but we still have a moment or two before they’re ready to announce you. The valets are in full swing, the waiters and waitresses are ready to pass hors d’oeuvres and drinks, I have Thomas on the door and Noah handling hosting duties for the time being.” She set the food down. “Nourish your bodies.” She sighed. “So beautiful, so very beautiful you both are.”

  “Thank you,” Julie and Neve said at the same time.

  “Get to it now. The queens of the ball should be downstairs sooner rather than later.” Ferra left as quickly as she’d come.

  “Have a seat and let me fix your curls.” Neve gestured to the padded bench beneath the table.

  Julie pulled out the furniture and sat.

  “This will just take a minute.” Neve twisted the curling iron in her hair. “There are just a couple of pieces that need a little fixing.”

  “Here. Have a grape.” Julie reached back, feeding Neve the fruit.

  “Thank you,” she said over her bite. “Usually we have a good hour left to handle the final details, but the traffic put us so far behind.”

  “We’ll make it. You just need your dress and jewelry, and you’ll be ready to go.” She popped a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth and sighed, trying to muster up a bit of enthusiasm for the evening ahead.

  “Are you worried about Chase or tonight?”

  “Both.” She slid the pad of her thumb over the glossy topcoat on her French manicure. “I have so much flying around in my head right now. I keep thinking about Chase, and I’m hoping he’s just caught in the crappy traffic instead of halfway home to California, but I’m also wondering how everyone will react to seeing me.” She met Neve’s eyes in the mirror. “I look just like you.”