by Kim Alexis
“Is it just me, or is the world getting crueler all the time?” She could hear the sadness in her own voice as they continued toward the gate, side by side.
Greg’s brow furrowed. “Actually, the world has always been this way. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘man’s inhumanity to man’? That was from a poem by Burns, I think, but it was so true people have been using it ever since.”
“Man’s inhumanity to man,” Crystal echoed.
“Even the Bible says, ‘They sharpen their tongues like swords and aim cruel words like deadly arrows.’ I’m just saying, it’s not only here and now. It’s everywhere, and for as long as humans have been alive.”
“Wow. I guess you’re right. And I’m impressed.”
Greg gave Crystal a shy glance. “Don’t be. My mom was always big on quotes. My sister and I had to recite a new one every week before we could get our allowance.”
Crystal nodded but didn’t speak. Too bad she hadn’t spent more time in college so she could quote something smart back to him. She’d always planned to get a degree, but with money so tight, she had given up after just one semester and switched over to a massage therapy school instead, where her tuition was almost covered by her day spa’s work-study program. The school was top-notch and she took the full two-year curriculum, though most of that time was spent learning about things like anatomy and physiology, not poetry or literature.
When they reached the gate, Greg opened and held it. She stepped through, deeply glad that he had left the others to be with her.
He flashed her a shy smile as he hooked the latch behind them. “Do you want to go somewhere quiet? You know, where we could talk or whatever? This must have been a pretty traumatic day for you. Sometimes it helps to review things a couple of times until the shock isn’t quite so raw.”
Heart pounding, Crystal resisted the urge to move closer to him. Few people had ever worried or cared about her, at least not to the extent that they offered a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. It hadn’t mattered, really. She was strong, she had survived. But somehow, this one little show of sympathy pushed past all of her strength, all of her resolve, and left her feeling open and raw and . . . needy.
She didn’t want to be needy.
“I’d love to, but the police said I’m not supposed to leave the area.” She glanced around then added, “How ’bout we sit on one of those benches around front, near the fountain? We can talk till they come and get me?”
“Sure.”
They fell silent as they made their way along the side of the building, the heat of Greg’s body making her heart pound. There was something about him that drew her close, made her want to lean against his shoulder or take his hand or reach up and brush the bangs from his forehead. She did none of those for now, but maybe someday she could.
The bench was just ahead, but they no sooner rounded the corner when Crystal heard someone call her name. It was one of the detectives, and he was waving her over to the treatment room.
“Miss Walsh? We’re ready for you now.”
Swallowing hard, Crystal turned to look at Greg, who gave her a reassuring smile. She tried to smile in return, but she was suddenly so tense, she felt sure it came off more like a grimace.
JULIETTE AND DIDI HEADED away from the main office, foregoing the shortcut that would’ve brought them directly past the Arrowscale building and using the wide road that led to their guest rooms instead. They were quiet as they walked along the shoulder, the resort coming more fully into view as they rounded the first bend.
Palm Grotto was nestled on about sixty lush, beautiful acres of gently-sloping hillside, with the gatehouse at the top, a small lake at the middle, and a jogging trail rounding out the bottom. In between were the various facilities, such as the conference center, the yoga dome, tennis courts, and of course the world-renowned spa and the mineral waters of the grotto itself. Guest rooms lined the perimeter of the property in clusters of varying sizes, from small single and double units, all the way up to a big block of rooms near the conference center. Most of this weekend’s retreat attendees would be staying in that block, with Didi and Juliette in a separate unit next door.
The two women grew silent as they continued to walk. Looking around, Juliette tried to find solace in the beauty on all sides. The sight of this place usually took her breath away, but right now thoughts of Raven’s death were casting a shadow over everything. If only she hadn’t chosen to hide in a closet rather than risk an encounter with the woman! Now that she’d never have another chance to make things right, Juliette would regret that action forever, no matter how unreasonable the feisty redhead might’ve been in return.
Didi glanced her way. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Juliette shrugged. “I’m just thinking about Raven, wishing things hadn’t ended this way between us. I feel bad about it.”
Didi grunted. “Speak for yourself.”
“Yeah, you haven’t heard what happened yet.” Juliette explained how she’d cowered in the supply closet earlier, until Brooke swept in and saved the day. “I feel terrible. I should have stepped up, not chickened out.”
Didi shook her head. “Nah, you were smart to hide. I wouldn’t give it another thought.”
Juliette grew silent, her heart overflowing with grief and regret and guilt. The woman obviously carried around a tremendous load of pain. If only Juliette had put her personal aversion aside, sought Raven out, spoken to her with kindness. Maybe she could’ve made a real difference in her life.
Now it was too late.
Juliette’s voice was soft. “I should have offered her an olive branch.”
Didi barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? Do you know what she would’ve done if you had? She would have ripped that branch out of your hand, used it to smack you across the face, then snapped it in half over her knee.”
Juliette smiled in spite of herself. “Maybe.”
“Forget it, hon. People like Raven don’t do friendship. They can’t be helped, can’t be reasoned with or softened or changed. Why would you want to be friends with someone like her anyway?”
Juliette shrugged. “Uh, ‘Love your enemies? Pray for those who persecute you?’ Book of Matthew? Any of that ring a bell?”
“Don’t be sarcastic. You know what I mean. You can love someone and still have boundaries.”
“I’m not sure hiding in a closet qualifies as a boundary.”
Didi merely grunted in reply.
But maybe she was right. Raven’s heart had been so hard it probably would’ve taken a sledgehammer—if not a jackhammer—to get through to her. Still, that didn’t change the fact that Juliette hadn’t even tried. Shame on her.
“It’s just that I owed her one, you know?” she said finally. “Today I had the chance to return a favor and I didn’t do it. Now it’s too late.”
“A favor?”
“From back in the day. That time when she and I were in Italy for the collections, and she taught me self-defense.”
“Oh, that,” Didi replied. “Please. You were all of, what, eighteen at the time?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s forever ago. So she showed you a few holds. Some kicks. So what?”
“It was more than just a few. She taught me how to protect myself. Trust me, that knowledge has come in handy more than a few times since.”
“But to feel indebted to the woman for thirty-something years? That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
Juliette thrust her hands in her pockets, not sure she wanted to go down this road. “You have to understand, Didi, guys in Italy were hitting on us right and left. Raven got worried about me, said my naiveté was going to end up getting me in big trouble. And she was right. I was incredibly obtuse and trusting back then.”
“She actually said that? That your naiveté would get you in trouble?”
“Actually, I think it was more like, ‘Don’t be an idiot, men are only after one thing and you’re too stupid to see i
t.’”
Didi chuckled. “That sounds more like the Raven I knew.”
“Anyway, you know how it was for my sister and me. We were pretty sheltered growing up. Our parents were wonderful, but they were protective. Then when they died and we went to live with our grandparents, it was the exact opposite, or at least it was for me. I was just fourteen years old, but from then on I had complete freedom to come and go as I pleased, to do whatever I wanted, wherever and whenever. There was no preparation, no transition, no guidance. By the time I was eighteen and trying to break into modeling, I still didn’t have a clue how to protect myself. Raven picked up on that. When we were in Italy, the situation felt dangerous enough that she decided to take me under her wing and teach me stuff. I learned all kinds of things from her, not just holds and kicks.”
“Like what else?”
“Like stop making eye contact with every person who walks by. Don’t go off alone, especially at night. Always carry cab fare, even if you think you won’t need it. Pretty basic, but it was all news to me.”
“Still not getting it.” Didi shook her head. “That’s what friends do for friends. What’s the big deal?”
Juliette was silent for a long moment, gazing out at the beautiful scenery that surrounded them. There was such a contrast between the lush greenness of the resort and the dry, brown, desert mountains in the distance. Much like the contrast between Raven’s stunning outer beauty and the dark, damaged person within.
“You don’t know the whole story.”
“No?”
“I guess I can tell you, now that she’s passed away.” Juliette’s voice was soft, their feet crunching rhythmically in the gravel below.
Didi kept silent, waiting for her to continue.
“When Raven first tried to warn me that I was putting myself in danger, I just blew her off. She knew she’d have to convince me of my own ignorance if I was ever going to listen. So one night she sat me down and told me what the world was really like.”
Didi shot her a glance.
Juliette swallowed hard. “You see, there were reasons Raven knew all of that self defense stuff in the first place. Sad, sick, horrible reasons.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “When she was younger, she was victimized, repeatedly, usually by the boyfriends her mother brought home. By the time Raven learned to defend herself, she’d already been violated by a dozen different men, starting when she was just a child.”
Didi faltered, her eyes filling with sudden tears. “I didn’t know that.”
“Nobody did. Her bio was pure fiction, and she guarded the real facts of her life with a vengeance. She was an incredibly private person.”
Sniffling, Didi dug in her pockets for a tissue. “You can say that again. She wouldn’t even tell people her real name.”
“I know. But for some reason, that night she decided to trust me with the truth. She had to, to open my eyes, and thank goodness she did. I didn’t know what the world was really like until then. After that, I was ready to learn whatever she wanted to teach me. And that’s why I’ve been in her debt ever since.”
Didi dabbed at her eyes with the tissue.
“Kind of reframes things a bit, now doesn’t it?” Juliette added softly.
“To say the least. I wish I had known.”
“Yeah, I would’ve told you if I could.”
They rounded the corner on the last leg of their jaunt, their cluster of guestrooms coming into sight.
“Did she tell you her real name?” Didi asked suddenly.
Juliette nodded. “Rayleen Eugenia Humphries.”
Wiping away a tear of her own, Juliette gazed into the distance, wondering which name would go on Raven’s tombstone, the one she was given at birth, or the one she created for herself the day she drew a line in the sand and decided she would never be anyone’s victim again.
CRYSTAL STOOD, ONE EYE on the waiting detective as she wrapped things up with Greg.
She spoke in an urgent whisper. “Listen, I was thinking I might go over to Moonflower’s later, just to see if she’s okay. Do you want to come with me?”
To her surprise, he declined. “Big mistake. Moonflower would be furious. She can’t stand me.”
“What? Why do you think that?”
He shrugged. “It’s probably the uniform. I mean, she may be a nice person and all, but at the end of the day she’s just an old hippie at heart. To her, anyone in uniform—even a security guard—is ‘the Man.’ The few times she and I had dealings in the past, she was barely civil. I think she’d spit on me if she could get away with it.”
Moonflower? Spitting on someone? Sweet, peaceful, loving little Moonflower? Crystal couldn’t imagine such a thing.
“Ma’am?” The detective was growing impatient.
“But, thanks anyway,” he said to her.
Then with a quick, reluctant good-bye, she turned and walked toward the scene of the crime.
THE TWO WOMEN REACHED their destination, and Juliette smiled when she remembered that each guest room here had its own private courtyard, delineated by chest-high stucco barriers encircling colorful, blooming vegetation. Didi gave Juliette her room key and the two women parted outside. The plan was for Juliette to unpack and freshen up then join Didi next door. In the meantime Didi would be on the computer, researching the three names Iliana had given them—Scott Ferguson, George Bailey, and Elwood Dowd—to see if she could figure out who they were.
Opening the door and stepping inside, Juliette was glad to see that her room was spacious, its décor understated, a mix of beiges and browns that created a peaceful, minimalist feel. Hanging in the closet was Palm Grotto’s signature white terry bathrobe, the garb of choice for almost every guest who stayed here. The robes were even welcome in the restaurant, and Juliette knew it wasn’t unusual to see, among the silk blouses and tailored suits, numerous guests dining comfortably in white robes and flip-flops.
Juliette unpacked and undressed, then brushed her teeth and washed her face. Like most models—even those who’d been out of the business for a long time—she hated makeup and wore it only when she absolutely had to. She preferred to focus on skin care, which was the basis of the entire JT Lady product line.
Her hair was equally low-maintenance, thanks to the expensive-but-worth-every-penny haircut that allowed her natural, short blonde waves to form the perfect, face-flattering shape without much fuss at all. Once she was finished freshening up, she donned the Palm Grotto robe and slippers and padded outside.
“Knock-knock,” she said when she reached Didi’s door, which was wide open.
Didi was sitting on the bed, a pile of pillows propped behind her, her laptop balanced on her knees. “Come in. My, but don’t you look comfortable.”
Juliette tugged on her terrycloth belt as she sat on the second bed. “Yeah, love these robes. Find anything?”
Didi returned her attention to the computer screen. “It’s strange, actually. I can’t make sense of it.”
Trying to get comfortable, Juliette leaned over and rested her elbow on the pillows, relishing the soft desert breezes that blew gently through the room and out the window on the other side. “Bad news?”
“Not exactly. I’m not sure.” Didi glanced at her, an odd gleam in her eye. “I mean, I got worried at first. When I Googled ‘Scott Ferguson,’ it came back with a ‘Scottie Ferguson Haircutting’ in Cincinnati, Ohio.”
“I knew it!” Juliette slapped a hand against the bed covers. “Raven was trying to break into the beauty product business!”
Didi cut her off. “Not so fast. I thought that too, at first. But then I Googled the other two names, George Bailey and Elwood Dowd. Neither one came up with any hits that were in any way related to the beauty business.”
“Maybe they’re up-and-comers who haven’t made a name for themselves yet. Maybe they’re salon owners who don’t have websites.”
Didi shook her head, giving Juliette a vague, perplexed smile. “Those three names do have something in common
, but it’s got nothing to do with the beauty industry, or with skin care.”
“What, then?”
“Scott Ferguson. George Bailey. Elwood Dowd.” Didi turned her laptop toward Juliette. On the screen were three pictures, side-by-side, old black-and-white images of what looked like the actor Jimmy Stewart.
“Spit it out, Didi. Who are they? What do they have in common?”
“Makes no sense to me, but those are the names of the main characters in three different Jimmy Stewart movies. Remember how you said George Bailey sounded familiar?”
Juliette nodded.
“Duh. Of course it did. George Bailey was the name of the character played by Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Chapter Nine
MARCUS LOADED THE CAR then returned to the kitchen for a last-minute check on perishables. He’d be gone for the next four days, which meant that the eggs and cheese would keep but the milk and the leftovers would not. Glancing at the clock, he pulled out everything that would need to be either eaten or ditched and made himself a plate for supper. While that heated in the microwave, he poured himself a big glass of milk and sat down at the table, cell phone in hand, and called his daughter.
He missed having her around, but still he was grateful for the timing of the class trip she was on, which couldn’t have been better. It freed him up to go away without having to make childcare arrangements—not to mention that it saved him from any probing questions prior to departure. Zoe was quite perceptive, and if she’d been around for the past few days she would have definitely picked up a whiff that something was going on here beyond a simple vacation to a spa.
The way Marcus had set things up, he’d be back by Monday night, plenty of time before Zoe would return Tuesday afternoon. And though she’d known her dad and grandmother would be traveling while she was gone, she’d been so excited over her own adventure that she hadn’t seemed to give theirs much thought at all, which was fine by him.
At thirteen, Zoe was that age where she flipped back and forth, seemingly at random, between adoring her father and seeing him as the biggest irritant on the planet. He never knew which of her two sides he would get, so as he sat listening to the rings and waiting for her to pick up, he hoped for Jekyll, not Hyde.