The Look of Love

by Mary Jane Clark

  Piper swallowed and then spoke quickly. “I told them about Kyle and what you suspect, Anastasia. Lillie is dead, and somebody is trying to kill Jillian. The police should know everything so they can figure things out.”

  She held her breath as no sound came from Anastasia.

  “I’m sorry, Anastasia, if I ruined your exclusive. I know how much energy you were putting in on it, but I couldn’t just say nothing.”

  There was a pause. Finally Anastasia spoke. “Ah, don’t worry about it, Piper. It would have been great to get the goods on Kyle Quigley myself, but I’ve already achieved what I wanted. My editor is so jazzed by the stuff I got on the fire and the murders that he’s taking me off the Style beat. From now on, Anastasia Fernands is going to be covering hard news!”

  Chapter 102

  Sister Mary Noelle welcomed her only sibling with a long, firm hug. “Thank the dear Lord that you are all right,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Nina, why is all this happening?” asked Jillian.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. We have to trust that God has his reasons.”

  “I wish I could be like you, Nina. I wish I could have such utter faith.”

  The two women walked to the garden and sat on a concrete bench.

  “How do you think Daddy’s handling everything?” asked Sister Mary Noelle.

  “You know Daddy. He keeps it together on the outside, but all this has got to be killing him,” said Jillian. “I’m glad that you reminded me about his birthday, though. I called Piper, and she’s going to make a cake for him. Poor thing, I just threw the request at her, but I couldn’t give her any suggestions on how to decorate it. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Let’s face it, Jillian, the thing that has always made Daddy happiest is you and me—at least until I entered the convent.”

  “And Mom,” added Jillian. “I wish she were still here.”

  “Me, too,” said Sister Mary Noelle. “But there’s a perfect example. If our mother hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have been drawn to this life—away from everything that’s needless and superficial. God had a plan.”

  Jillian was quiet as she thought about her sister’s words.

  “I have an idea,” she said, suddenly brightening. “I know something that would be great on the top of Daddy’s birthday cake.”

  She pulled out her cell phone.

  Chapter 103

  The toothpick inserted into the centers of the cakes came out clean. Piper took the pans from the oven and placed them on wire racks. While the layers were cooling, she mixed the buttercream icing. She wiped her hands on a towel as her phone rang again.

  “Have you decorated the cake already?” asked Jillian.

  “Not yet,” said Piper.

  “Well, I have an idea,” said Jillian. “There’s a picture of my father with my sister and me when we were little. It shows him sitting in a big wing chair with me in his lap and Nina perched on the arm of the chair. We’re both watching as he reads us a book. Would there be any way you could re-create that picture on top of the cake?”

  “If we had more time, we could have had the picture reproduced in edible ink,” said Piper. “But I think I might be able to do it the old-fashioned way, by hand. I can use tracing paper to copy the picture and then go over the design to make an imprint on the cake.”

  “Great!” said Jillian, mustering up the first enthusiasm she’d felt in a long time. “The picture is in an album in my hope chest, which is in the garage at my father’s house. I’ll call Irene and let her know you’re coming.”

  After the cake cooled and Piper frosted it, she asked for a tray to carry it over to the Abernathys’ house. She packed her decorating paraphernalia and headed out of the kitchen. As she walked into the hallway, she almost collided with a thin, middle-aged man hurrying toward the lobby.

  “Excuse me,” said Piper, struggling to keep control of the tray. She looked at the man’s pale face and remembered him. “Oh. Hi, Mr. Sherwood. How are you?”

  “I’m going out to face the media hordes,” said Hudson, shaking his head and frowning. “Vernon doesn’t want to do it himself. He says I can handle it better than he can.”

  Though Piper detected some resentment in Hudson’s tone, she also got the impression that he liked the idea of being the spokesperson for Elysium just fine.

  “Wow, this is nuts,” she said. “You just come back to work and then get slammed with all this? When I met you last night at Jillian’s, who could have guessed what was going to happen after you left?”

  “Terrible, wasn’t it? But now I can go out there and tell those media wolves that it’s all over. Kyle Quigley is in police custody.” Hudson looked down at his wrist. “Sorry. Got to fly,” he said. “They’re waiting for me.”

  Piper watched him hurry away. That guy is actually loving all this.

  Piper balanced the cake tray while pushing the doorbell. The housekeeper answered. She was wearing rubber gloves and holding a sponge.

  “Hi,” said Piper. “Is Mrs. Abernathy here?”

  “No,” said the woman. “She was already gone when Miss Jillian called to say you would be here. Please, come in.” She opened the door wider. “Can I help you with that?”

  “No, no, I’ve got it. Thanks.” Piper entered and followed the housekeeper to the kitchen, where she set the tray down on the counter.

  “That’s the door to the garage,” said the housekeeper, pointing with her sponge. “The hope chest is against the far wall, covered with a blanket.”

  “Great,” said Piper.

  “Do you need anything else?” asked the housekeeper. “As soon as I finish cleaning the bathroom, I’m going to the market. So now’s the time to ask.”

  “A couple of small bowls to mix colors into the icing,” said Piper. “Other than that, I can’t think of a thing.”

  Piper spread her piping tips and disposable decorating bags on the counter. She split the icing she made in the Elysium kitchen into several bowls the housekeeper had brought her. Then she dropped yellow piping gel into the first bowl and folded it into the white frosting. No doubt she could use this color to simulate Jillian’s hair—and maybe for her sister’s, too. But before she could decide how to tint the rest of the icing, she had to see the picture.

  As she walked to the garage door, the housekeeper appeared in the kitchen again. She had changed and was holding a set of car keys. “I’m leaving now,” she said. “I’ll go out with you.”

  As they entered the garage, the housekeeper gestured toward the far wall. “It’s over there.”

  “Thanks,” said Piper. She waited while the housekeeper got into one of the cars, backed out, and clicked the garage door closed.

  Chapter 104

  In a small room with no windows, Kyle sat at a metal table while the detective interrogated him.

  “That’s some kinky stuff you got going there, Kyle. You’ve been up to no good, haven’t you?”

  Kyle didn’t answer.

  “You’ve got a regular library of your sick stunts. You should be congratulated for keeping it so organized and well labeled. We’ll know exactly who to contact as prosecution witnesses.”

  The door to the interrogation room opened and a policewoman entered. She passed a folder to her colleague.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” asked the detective as he skimmed the folder’s contents. “You’ve been busy at your computer, haven’t you? We’ve got a list of all the porn sites you’ve visited.”

  Tapping his fingers on the table, Kyle didn’t look at the detective.

  “Okay, Kyle. We’ve got you nailed for sexual molestation. That could run you ten to fifteen years—for each case. But arson and murder—that clinches it.” He pounded the table. “Put all that together and you’ll be cooling your ass in Lancaster for the rest of your life.”

  “Wa
it a minute! Arson and murder?” Kyle exclaimed. His face was pale, and beads of perspiration had gathered on his forehead. “I didn’t kill anybody! I swear!”

  The detective ignored the denial. “Lancaster sure does attract a nice clientele,” he continued. “Big Lurch spent some time there. Helluva guy. He tore open a woman’s chest, took out her lung, and ate it. How’d you like a buddy like that as a roommate?”

  “I want a lawyer,” said Kyle as all remaining color drained from his face.

  Chapter 105

  George had humiliated himself the night before at Jillian’s cottage, and he knew it. He had lain in bed all morning, nursing a hangover and feeling mortified. Finally he turned on the TV.

  He felt some twisted satisfaction as he viewed the images of the charred remains of Jillian Abernathy’s cottage, the glamorous head shot of Lillie Ulster, and clips from some of the roles she’d played. George had enjoyed the actress over the years in the movies and on television. It really was too bad that she’d been killed. But part of him was glad about the tragedies that were befalling Elysium.

  Then his pulse began to race. He’d been at the cottage last night. He could be a suspect.

  My God. Will they think that I did it?

  The reporter stood in front of the Elysium gates as he wrapped up the story.

  “Just a little while ago, police arrested thirty-six-year-old Kyle Quigley, a medical aesthetician here. Sources tell us that Quigley is suspected of having played a role in Lillie Ulster’s death as well as in the attempted murder of Jillian Abernathy, the director of Elysium, this sprawling spa and cosmetic-surgery compound in the Hollywood Hills. Arraignment is expected to take place tomorrow. At that time we’ll find out exactly what the charges against Quigley will be.”

  Breathing somewhat easier, George got out of bed. What was the matter with him? How had he become the sort of person who reveled in the downfall of others or could become a suspect in a murder investigation? How had be gotten to this place?

  And what kind of example was he setting for Wendy? How were his reactions affecting his daughter? Though he tried not to show his anger and depression when he was with her, Wendy was very perceptive and sensitive. She had to sense his negative emotions, and that couldn’t be helping her. The kid had a big fight on her hands. She needed support, not someone dragging her down.

  Most of all she had to learn that when you experienced a tragedy, it was okay to lick your wounds for a while, but ultimately you had to keep going and do whatever it took to make the best of life.

  As he got ready to take a shower, George came up with a plan. He was going to take Wendy to New York, or wherever the best plastic surgeons could be found. There had to be someone somewhere who could do the facial reconstruction she needed.

  He didn’t care how much it cost. His lawyer would make sure that Vernon Abernathy and his malpractice insurance paid. Elysium’s owner would see that agreeing to a settlement was better than going to court and facing an even bigger judgment—not to mention all the negative publicity for the spa and his reputation.

  George looked at the bloodshot eyes staring back at him in the bathroom mirror.

  Sometimes, he thought, you have to hit rock bottom to see your way up.

  Chapter 106

  Pulling off the blanket, Piper looked at the large chest. The moth-repellent cedar sides were covered with painted angels, wedding bells, and stars. The chest was long and rectangular, reminding her of a casket. She sure wouldn’t want something like this sitting in her marital bedroom.

  Piper bent down to open the chest, fully expecting to be hit with the smell of cedar. Instead, as she raised the top, she inhaled the pungent aroma of turpentine.

  Chapter 107

  I have something I want to show you, Jillian.” Sister Mary Noelle reached into the pocket of her habit and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve been holding on to this since Mom died.”

  Jillian took the envelope from her sister, opened it, and began to read.

  Dear Nina,

  Tomorrow morning I go in to have my face lift. As I write this, I think about my life and what has brought me to this point. Your father and I have had a very happy marriage, a fulfilling and loving life together. Our greatest joys have been you and Jillian. I couldn’t have asked for more.

  I write this to you, Nina, because you’ve pleaded with me not to have this surgery. Jillian seems to understand, but you don’t see why I am determined to take the risk. Shouldn’t I be satisfied with the good fortune I’ve already enjoyed? Why does my physical appearance have to be so important? Why can’t I come to terms with the aging process and accept it with grace?

  I’ve tried, Nina, I truly have. In my heart I know you’re right, but in my mind I know I will feel better if I look fresher and prettier. Sometimes I think when you’ve been physically blessed, it’s harder to watch as your face deteriorates. It stings to hear people say, “She was so beautiful.”

  Jillian’s eyes filled with tears. “This is breaking my heart,” she whispered.

  Sister Mary Noelle reached over and wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder. Jillian sniffled and wiped at the corners of her eyes before she continued reading.

  I know your father loves me, I do. But I want him to look at me the way he used to. I want him to be proud of his wife. I don’t want to feel threatened by younger women.

  If anything happens to me, I know your father will remarry. He should. He is an attractive, successful man. There is no shortage of women who would love it if I just disappeared.

  Jillian paused. “Mom sure got that right,” she said. “Irene wasn’t the only Elysium employee who had her sights on Dad.”

  There was just one more paragraph left.

  Please, Nina, if the day comes when your father needs to find another mate, be supportive. Having your approval will mean so much to him. Welcome her into the family, knowing that I’ve always wanted your father to be happy.

  Love,

  Mom

  Jillian put the letter down and looked at Sister Mary Noelle. “Why didn’t you ever show me this?” she asked.

  “Because it was painful for me. I wanted peace. Now I only feel guilty.”

  “About what?”

  “That I could never find it in my heart to do as Mom asked. Even at the funeral, Irene was all over Daddy. God forgive me, I’ve never liked or trusted her.”

  “And why are you showing it to me now?” asked Jillian.

  “Because I’ve prayed and prayed about this,” answered Sister Mary Noelle. “I’ve prayed, ever since Mom died, that my negative feelings about Irene would prove to be unfounded. But with everything that’s been happening at Elysium, I thought it was time.”

  Chapter 108

  A partially open plastic cooler was in the hope chest. It was lying on top of a pile of fluffy white taffeta. Piper reached into the mound of material. She gasped as a pin pricked her finger.

  A drop of blood appeared as she struggled to get her mind around what she was seeing. Was this Jillian’s wedding dress? Why was it lying unaltered in the hope chest when, up until a couple of hours ago, the wedding was only a few days away?

  Chapter 109

  To avoid the media gathered at the front gate, Irene drove through the rear entrance. It was a crazy time for Elysium, but it would pass. Soon things would get back to normal and she would be the mistress of paradise again. She and Vernon would go on with their lives, and everything would be perfect.

  The situation with Kyle Quigley had played right into her hands. The police assumed he had set the fire and murdered the actress. Tonight, when it was dark, she could take the flashlight from the hope chest and plant it someplace where it would incriminate Kyle. With the murder weapon, the police would have a virtually airtight case.

  When enough time went by, she could take another stab at eliminating Jillian, just a
s she’d gotten rid of Jillian’s mother. There was always that same method: pumping air into a vein and causing a fatal heart attack. A heart attack with no discernible cause.

  As Irene pulled into the driveway and took from the car the additional birthday gift she’d bought for her husband, she still believed that ultimately she would be number one in Vernon’s life.

  Chapter 110

  Something glistened from inside the cooler. Piper pulled the handle open, peered in, and saw a heavy industrial flashlight. It was spattered with dark red spots. As she looked closer, Piper saw strands of long blond hair sticking to it. Her heart pounded as she realized that she was looking at the weapon used to beat in Lillie Ulster’s head.

  The pieces came rushing together in Piper’s mind. Irene hadn’t taken the dress to the bridal shop to be tailored because she didn’t think there was going to be a wedding. Irene could have set the fire to make sure that Jillian would never be a bride.

  But what about Lillie? Why would she be murdered? Had she witnessed Irene setting the fire? Did she have to be killed so she wouldn’t be able to identify Irene as the arsonist?

  Chapter 111

  Irene entered through the front door. She set the brightly wrapped package on the coffee table in the living room and kicked off her shoes. Then she went to the kitchen.

  Immediately she saw the cake and decorating supplies arrayed on the kitchen counter. Next her eyes turned to the door to the garage. It was slightly ajar.

  She quietly slid open the kitchen drawer and selected the biggest knife there was before tiptoeing to the door and peeking. Her eyes swept over Vernon’s Mercedes and came to rest on someone hunched over the hope chest.

  What do you think you’re doing?”

  Piper froze as she heard the voice.

  “Get away from there!” Irene commanded. “Get away from there right now!”