“Hear hear,” Danny called as the group broke into loud applause.
I mouthed ‘good-by’ to Frank and took off to meet Flo at the mall.
********************************
Loaded down with shopping bags, Flo and I exited the department store. “That was one hugely successful shopping trip. How much of this stuff do you think we’ll keep?”
“Yeah,” Flo nodded, “rumor has it that Macy’s going to crown you Queen of Returns.”
“You’re not such a slacker in the returns department yourself,” I said. “What I can’t figure out is why the clothes always look so much better in the dressing room than at home. Do you think the stores use trick mirrors?”
“I wouldn’t put it past them. But these outfits we got today don’t need any tricks. They’ll be perfect for when we read at Dr. Linda’s party tomorrow night.”
“WE read? You’re reading at the party? You’re not even in the class.”
“As a matter of fact, Dr. Linda called to ask if I wanted to read an excerpt from the novel I’m writing.”
“Great. Just great. It’ll probably be the hit of the program,” I said bitterly
.
Chapter 43
Flo had insisted we begin the morning with a walk to get our blood flowing. When we were finished she announced that she was treating me to a complete makeover at her club’s Heavenly Retreat Spa. “I can’t believe it,” I screamed, hugging her. “I can’t remember the last time I stepped into a spa.”
“Hey, tonight’s the book launch party. We girls have to look our best.”
After quickly shedding our clothes and donning fabulously thick terry robes we were ushered into an organic room complete with soft new age music playing in the background. Ordered to remove our robes by a Germanic sounding woman, we tried to discreetly check out each other’s thighs for cellulite before mounting neighboring massage tables. We covered ourselves with sheets that had a fresh lemony smell and were soon pummeled, scrubbed and wrapped into total relaxation.
After our treatments we were given a lite lunch of tuna without mayo on two pieces of celery sticks. This was followed by a mani-pedi. “And of course you want a Brazilian for your hair,” the attendant said.
I couldn’t believe it. A Brazilian blowout! I’d always wanted to try it out, to straighten my frizzy hair. Maybe now I wouldn’t have to wear a hat so often.
A short time later we exited the Heavenly Retreat Spa scratching our crotches. How were we supposed to know a Brazilian meant a Brazilian bikini wax?
By the time I was ready to leave for the party, I was worn out. But it was well worth it—I looked smashing, if I had to say so myself. The pale blue linen dress I’d bought for the occasion showed just the right amount of cleavage. Though as I tucked in my bra straps, I wondered if it might be too young and sexy for someone my age. But really—was there such a thing? I thought about Helen Mirren. Looking sexy didn’t seem to bother her.
It crossed my mind that perhaps I should have invited Merv to the party despite his never having taken an interest in my writing. But to be honest, I didn’t want him and Frank together in the same room. Besides Merv hadn’t exactly been breaking down my door in order to be with me lately.
Hearing Flo’s car, I took one last glimpse of myself in the mirror. Then I grabbed my evening bag and the plate of chocolate chip cookies I was bringing to the group. I locked the door behind me and climbed into her Mercedes.
“Now remember,” I said, “When you see Danny, do not under any circumstances say or do anything that will alert him to the fact that we’re on to him. Got it? Act very pleasant around him.”
“That’ll make him suspicious for sure.”
“You’re right. Better to be your usual unpleasant self. But whatever you do, don’t be alone with him.”
We pulled up to Frank’s home and after searching around for a parking spot we finally found one a block away.
“Not bad,” Flo said as we walked up the driveway to Frank’s sprawling home.
I pointed to a lit up tennis court a short distance from the house. “And get a load of that.”
“A tennis court! And he likes you?”
I was thinking the same thing but I wasn’t going to admit it to Flo. “And why should that surprise you?”
“No offense but with a place like this he could get someone young. And glamorous.”
“That just proves that Frank has a good head on his shoulders and obviously appreciates the finer qualities that only an older woman can bring to a relationship. He’s secure in who he is and doesn’t need someone young to shore up a faltering ego or worse.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Or maybe his eyesight’s failing.”
I punched the doorbell.
“Walk in,” a voice called out.
Flo and I stood in the doorway and stared at the crowd of people dressed in Palm Springs evening attire—which ranged from jeans and tees to cocktail finery.
“Can you believe this turnout!” I said. “Good thing we spent the day getting ready. Do you see anyone from our writing group?”
“Get a load of that.” Flo motioned toward a good-looking, tuxedo-wearing waiter who was balancing a tray of champagne glasses. “I could sure use one of those.”
“The waiter or the champagne?”
“Preferably both. And get a load of that bar set up.”
I glanced over to where Flo was pointing. “I had no idea Frank was planning to do all this,” I said, incredulous.
Flo nudged me in the side. “Uh oh, here comes trouble.”
“Bout time you girls got here,” Danny said. “Can I get you drinks?”
“Thank you, Danny, but I’m not drinking tonight,” I said.
“We can get our own, thank you.” Flo snapped.
Danny shrugged. “Each to her own.” He took off to the bar.
I punched Flo in the side. “You’re not supposed to let on that we suspect him,” I hissed.
“Fine. Then I’ll join him at the bar and see what I can find out.”
“Champagne, madam?”
Flo was right. The waiter was one gorgeous hunk. Hollywood material. “Yes, I’ll take you…I mean…I’ll take one.” I smiled primly.
The expensive champagne tasted delicious. I sipped it slowly as I strolled through the crowd, looking for the other members of the writing group. Minna was talking to Yettah and Nate over near the back wall and as I got closer I saw that they were standing in front of a row of easels. Each of the easels displayed a large portrait blowup of a member of the writing group. Displayed on a nearby table were copies of our book, Unlikely Stories.
“Pretty impressive,” I said, nodding toward the photos. “If I do say so myself.”
“We were just talking about you, Izzy,” Yettah said. “I’m not happy with the picture you took of me.”
“Of course you’re not,” I replied calmly, due in part to the reappearance of Mr. Gorgeous Waiter. I quickly finished off my champagne and exchanged the empty glass for a full one, while batting my fake eyelashes and thanking him profusely.
“We should have hired a professional,” Yetta continued.
I was determined not to let Yettah or Nate or even Minna get under my skin. To ensure that didn’t happen, I quickly downed the second glass of champagne and felt a warm, peaceful glow settle over me.
“Izzy, you look stunning.”
I spun around. “Frank, I can’t believe this party. You’ve gone so all out.” Thanks to the champagne, I could feel myself still spinning. “The waiters, the champagne, the picture display. I feel like a real author. It’s all so glamorous.”
“Not as glamorous as you.” He took my empty glass and beckoned to the waiter who handed me another.
“Maybe I’ve had enough,” I murmured. “On the other hand, maybe not.”
Minna’s eyes swept suspiciously from Frank to me, then back to Frank. “Yeah, it’s a great party. Though the pictures Izzy took certainly don’t do us justice.�
�
“Why, Minna, I think your picture looks just like you,” Frank said.
I was about to break into hysterical laughter but thankfully managed to suppress it. I never should have had three glasses of champagne on an empty stomach.
Nate slapped Frank on his back. “It’s a great party, old man. Though I would swear there was a better picture of me than this one. Izzy probably destroyed it on purpose,” he mumbled.
“Oh, Frank,” Minna fawned, “your home is so fabulous. I just love everything about it.” She sidled closer to him and placed her hand on his arm. “It throbs with vibrancy and virility.”
“Yes,” I said, “also vivaciousness, vacuousness, vividness, vociferousness…”
“It was my pleasure, Minna,” Frank said, thankfully interrupting me. “You’ve all been such a help with my book that I wanted to show my appreciation.”
He extricated himself from Minna’s grasp and looked at me meaningfully.” I have such warm feelings for you…all. Now you folks might want to visit the buffet table before the food disappears.”
“Ah, the magic words,” I said as the threesome took off.
Frank clicked his glass against mine. “To us.”
To us? What did he mean by that? I tried to figure it out but I was much too drunk to tell. I scanned the crowd for Flo, needing to discuss it with her ASAP.
“I’m serious, Izzy.”
“Serious?” I felt more confused by the second. I found it difficult to think clearly––no doubt in part due to the champagne.
“Frank, I…I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s a first, I’ll bet,” he laughed. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just think about it.
“I think I need to sit down before I fall down,” I said, glancing around for an empty chair.
“Look, Izzy, I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t expect an answer right away. I just want you to consider it.”
I nodded. An answer? What was the question? I really needed to talk to Flo.
Though who was I kidding? I knew exactly what she’d say. “Say yes! Agree to anything! Are you crazy? You’re going to turn down a guy who has a home fit for Ashton Kutcher?”
“You’ll stay after everyone leaves,” he said.
I did a mental check of my underwear. New push-up bra. New thong panties, which were digging into my butt. In terms of underwear I was more than ready. Not to mention that Brazilian wax job. But was I ready emotionally? My mind flitted to Merv.
“Yes,” I said.
Frank moved in closer. I could feel the rising sexual tension––a tidal wave about to engulf us both. Or at least me. My whole being was on fire like someone had suddenly turned up the furnace––I knew that Frank felt it too.
Yes, I was ready. How could I have possibly thought that I wasn’t. I shook my head trying to clear it. “Frank,” I whispered. “I need to tell you something.”
Chapter 44
“I know who Sondra’s brother is.”
Frank took a step back and studied me. “You do? Who is it?”
“Danny.”
“Danny? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, it’s Danny.”
“You know, Izzy, you can’t go around accusing someone without absolute proof.”
“I’m positive it’s him. Flo found the cover page of my Down and Dead in Palm Springs in his car when we went out for yogurt. Which means he’s the person who broke into Dr. Linda’s house and stole the fake manuscript that I’d substituted for Sondra’s. When Dr. Jorgenson finally confirms that Danny is Sondra’s brother it’ll be curtains for Danny.
“Izzy, promise me you’ll be extra careful.”
“Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself.” I was putting on a display of bravado that I knew would fade as soon as the champagne wore off. “I can’t wait to go to the police with the evidence. That Officer Martinelli will be surprised when I give him proof that Sondra was murdered on the hiking trail by her own brother.”
Frank nodded then looked at me with concern. “Look, we’ll talk later. I have to get back to the party. But be careful, Izzy. And whatever you do, don’t be alone with Danny.”
“Believe me, I have no intention of being alone with him.”
Flo appeared at my side. “What was that all about?”
“Can you believe it? Frank made a toast ‘to us.’ I think––no I’m sure––he’s thinking of me as his girlfriend.”
“So? What’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure. Nothing really. Other than I need to get used to the idea. He is a great guy.”
“And has a fabulous home,” Flo said glancing around.
“He’s kind, thoughtful, nice looking…”
“And has a fabulous home.”
I made a face at Flo. “So where’s Danny? You were supposed to be keeping your eye on him.”
“Oh, Danny. Just when I couldn’t take his fawning all over me, he dropped me like a hot knish to go after some guy.” She nodded toward Danny who was deep in conversation with a man with a goatee.
“Oh my God! That guy happens to be Larry Freerton book critic of the LA Times. I see his picture in the paper all the time. I can’t believe Dr. Linda invited him. You can bet Danny’s shmoozing him up about his book.”
“Book critic? You’re sure? Of the LA Times? We’ll talk later,” Flo said and hurried off.
“Right, and don’t forget to mention the book you’re writing,” I called after her.
I shoved aside my irritation with Flo and pushed my way to the dessert table where I loaded up my plate. Then I headed to the outdoor patio which was deserted thanks to the 100 degree plus evening temperature.
I settled into one of the two luxurious lounges overlooking the pool. The quiet was just what the doctor ordered to get rid of my throbbing headache. I laid the plate aside and stretched out on the lounge and closed my eyes—when an image of Sherlock giving me the evil eye, popped into my brain. “Oh no,” I groaned aloud. I couldn’t believe it––in the excitement of getting ready for the party I had forgotten to feed him. No wonder he’d been in a lousy mood all day
I hated to disappoint Frank but I couldn’t let poor Sherlock starve. I’d have to leave immediately after the program to feed him.
I remembered that I hadn’t checked my cell since I’d left home and pulled it out of my bag. Perhaps there was be a message from Dr. Jorgenson about the pictures.
I dialed into my voicemail and realized I was in luck. He had left the message an hour earlier:
Hello, Ms.Greene, I got the photos that you emailed and I do recognize one of the men in that last picture. I’m leaving town this weekend but I’ll be back in my office Monday morning. If you still wish to talk to me, I’ll be available between 11:30 and 12:00. I’ll tell my receptionist to expect your call.
I hung up the phone.
‘One of the men in that last picture,’ he’d said. But what was the last picture?
I checked the three emails I’d sent him and tried to figure out which picture he was referring to. One of the emails I’d sent had two pictures of Nate: one where Nate was alone and one with Danny in the background. Another email had two pictures also—one of Danny alone and the other with both Nate and Frank in the background. The third email was a picture of Frank with Nate off to the side.
Would it have killed Dr. Jorgenson to have been more specific? And he expected me to wait until Monday! I could be dead by Monday. There was nothing I could do now––I’d have to be patient.
In the meantime I’d have to be extra careful.
I frowned at the pictures again, trying to figure it out.
“Well, well, Izzy. Enjoying looking at the pictures of the men?”
I swiveled around.
How long had Danny been standing behind my lounge, watching me?
“What are you doing here?” I asked, startled.
“The question is what are you doing? Studying our pictures there on your phone. Yo
u know the real thing is right here…unless…what are you up to Izzy Green? You always seem to be up to something sneaky…”
He took another step towards me and reached out for my phone. Before he could grab it, I fumbled around for my bag. I grabbed it from under the lounge chair and ran across the patio to the house and fell into Nate’s arms. “Whoa there. What’s going on?” he asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Dr. Linda wants to get started with the program.”
As I followed Nate into the living room, I glanced back at Danny and saw that he was still watching me.
Dr. Linda kicked of the program with a short introduction. She was followed by Yettah who read her Three Ducks and a Goose. The audience seemed to really like her impression of the goose honking. On my part I found her quacking duck to be more authentic.
Minna followed with an excerpt from All in a Night’s Work. She described it as a romance but it turned out to be an unintended comedy––judging by the audience reaction.
Nate read from his short story, You’re Killing Me, which received well-earned applause. He was followed by Danny who read an excerpt from his thriller, Monster Mike, Music Mobster, which, he bragged would eventually be made into a movie.
Frank followed with an excerpt from his short fiction, Out of Bounds, Out of Space. It received the most applause, which I suspected was partly due to his hosting the party.
I pulled up the rear with my Very Short Life of Squiggie the Mouse. Squiggies’ life being so short I managed to get through it despite my dizziness and slurred speech.
When I finished I glanced around for Flo but she was nowhere to be seen. She probably wasn’t going to risk letting the book critic escape.
Dr. Linda, beaming with pride, stood up and thanked her writers for their participation and the audience for its enthusiastic response. She reminded them that copies of the book were on sale in the back of the room as well as at the Palm Springs Writing Center.
Danny then took the microphone and, with a wave of his hand, announced, “Tha…tha…that’s all, folks.” The audience broke into laughter and wild applause, no doubt happy that the program was finally over and they could get back to the refreshment table.
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