by Gail Bowen
“That’s Merry Christmas in Hungarian,” she said. Among the fabric and ceramic hearts from the Old Country were a dozen or more Disney princesses. “These are mine,” Chloe said. “Everything looks nice together, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” I said. “Your tree is absolutely beautiful, Chloe, and before I forget, Taylor sent something for you.” When I gave her the colouring book and the pencils, Chloe’s face lit with pleasure, but it fell quickly. “I don’t have a present for her,” she said.
“You don’t need one. This is a regift. Taylor has plenty of paints and brushes and canvases so when our neighbours gave her these, she thought you might enjoy them.”
“Thank you,” she said. She showed The Secret Garden book and pencils to Nick and then carried everything to the dining room, arranged the pencils carefully on the table, and began.
As he watched his daughter, Nick’s face relaxed. “I never know what to get her for Christmas,” he said. “She loves to colour, but when I look at all the colouring books they’re always meant for younger kids and I don’t want to insult her.”
“From what I’ve heard, the colouring books for adults are very absorbing,” I said. “People say working on the patterns helps them de-stress, calm down, focus, and just have fun.”
Nick turned to Zack. “You’ve been losing pretty steadily at poker, lately,” he said. “Maybe you’d have more luck if we started colouring.”
Zack’s laugh was rueful. “You could be right,” he said. “But Joanne’s giving me the evil eye, so it’s time to change the subject.”
“Gotcha,” Nick said. “How was the dinner party?”
“Actually, it was fun,” Zack said. “Great food, and Rosamond Burke was worth wearing a tux for. She really is something.”
Nick nodded. “She is. My guys were a little nervous about dealing with theatre royalty, but Rosie’s great.”
Zack was taken aback. “You call her ‘Rosie’?”
“She asked us to,” Nick said. “She talks to everybody—actors, grips, stagehands, the craft services people—and she actually listens. It’s a happy set. Everybody gets along. And we’re doing good work. It’s a privilege to watch Rosie and Vale together. Vale’s young but uncommonly talented and the camera loves her. Lighting her face is a dream. Everything is going our way.” Nick leaned in to rap his knuckles on the coffee table. “Touch wood.”
Chloe had appeared to be totally absorbed in her work, but she turned and looked at her dad. “What does that mean?”
“Touch wood?” Nick said. “It’s just a way of saying you hope nothing bad happens.”
Chloe nodded thoughtfully. “I hope that all the time,” she said. “Maybe it hasn’t worked because I didn’t say ‘touch wood.’ ”
Nick recoiled as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Zack wheeled closer and put his arm around his old friend’s shoulders. For a few moments neither of them moved. Finally, Nick took a deep breath and tried a smile. “I’m all right,” he said.
We carried on. Zack and I gave animated accounts of the dinner party and Chloe reminded her father that their live-in housekeeper, Mrs. Szabo, had baked special cookies and she’d left some on a plate for us. Chloe and her father made tea, and we sat around the dining room table and chatted about holiday plans.
When I said we were going to the cottage between Christmas and the New Year, Chloe was puzzled. “But cottages are for summer,” she said.
“We fixed up our cottage so we can use it year-round,” I said. “We have a skating rink and a place to toboggan. Why don’t you and your dad come out to the lake and spend some time with us?”
As we made plans to get together between Christmas and the New Year, Chloe was in high spirits, but the effect of her words about knocking on wood lingered, and when the Kovacs walked us to the door to say goodbye, Nick’s face was ravaged.
Chloe had wrapped some of Mrs. Szabo’s cookies for Taylor, and when she ran back to the kitchen to get them, Nick was clearly stricken. “It’s so hard to think of her future,” he said simply.
His bleakness struck a chord with me. “Nick, if there’s anything I can do, just call. Short-term, long-term—there’s not much on my schedule that can’t be rearranged.”
* * *
—
It was snowing hard the next morning. On three memorable occasions during the previous winter, Zack and the Volvo had been trapped in a snowbank, and he had finally agreed that having me drive him on unploughed streets made a certain amount of sense. Taylor, too, was nervous about winter driving, and after I’d dropped Zack at the courthouse, I planned to come home, pick her up, and drive her to the sound stage.
We were on our way out our front door when the phone rang. It was Nick Kovacs. “Joanne, I didn’t think I’d be taking you up on your offer so quickly, but I need a hand…”
“And here I am,” I said. “How can I help?”
“I’m at work, and Mrs. Szabo just brought Chloe by. Mrs. S. has come down with that flu. She looked like death. She tried our roster of aides but between finals at the university and the flu, no one’s available. I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you come and get Chloe and take her home with you until I figure this out? I can’t leave here. We’re working on a cave scene and the lighting is tricky. Chloe won’t go with someone she doesn’t know. It’ll take at least an hour before a cab shows up, so I’m not sure when we’ll get to your place.”
“Don’t worry about a cab. I was just on my way to drop Taylor off at the sound stage. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I could hear the relief in his voice. “Chloe will be just down the hall with whoever I can get to sit with her while I set up. I’m already running late. Jo, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Maybe next time Zack decides to scoop all his chips into the middle of the table, let him win.”
Nick laughed. “That can be arranged.”
* * *
—
When Taylor and I arrived at the studio, the snow was still heavy, and the wind had picked up. I parked in the accessible zone by the front door, pulled the accessibility sign out of the glove compartment, and hung it on the mirror. Zack never used accessible parking, and Taylor raised her eyebrows. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I said.
“I’m not complaining,” Taylor said, and together we ran up the stairs into the building.
The classrooms off the long hallway in what had once been the main building of the old campus were now used for hair and makeup, costumes, props, and special effects. Chloe was sitting at a table halfway down the hall, just outside the door to one of the hair and makeup rooms. To my surprise, Lizzie was beside her, totally absorbed in watching Chloe colour, and one of the PAs was perched on a nearby bench checking her phone.
When Taylor called her name, Chloe held up her Secret Garden book. “See how many pages I’ve done,” she said.
Taylor examined the drawings carefully. “The colours you’ve chosen are perfect.”
“And look how she never draws over the lines,” Lizzie said.
“I noticed,” Taylor said. She shifted her focus to Lizzie. “It’s good of you to keep Chloe company.”
“It was fun,” Lizzie said. “Vale made me come here with her this morning because of all the snow.” Lizzie stuck her feet out. “She gave me these boots.”
“It’s certainly boot weather,” I said. “And those boots match the belt of your coat.”
“They look nice,” Chloe said, but her attention had already drifted to arranging her coloured pencils back in their box.
The PA had been watching us. “Okay if I take off?” she said.
“Absolutely,” I said. When the young woman left, I gave Taylor a quick hug. “And you carry on with your day. We’re fine, but stay in touch. Lizzie, can I drive you somewhere?”
“No, thanks. I’m going to stay here for a bit, but I can help Chloe put away her things.”
Taylor left for the set while Chloe and Lizzie began p
acking up. They had finished stowing the colouring book and pencils in Chloe’s backpack and Lizzie was shrugging on her coat when Gabe, Ainsley, and, of all people, Shawn O’Day came down the hall from the north end of the building where the Living Skies offices were located. Seemingly, Gabe and Shawn O’Day had patched things up. Engrossed in their conversation, they walked by without noticing us. Lizzie flicked a glance their way, but Chloe seemed oblivious. They were near the exit when Chloe suddenly cowered and began screaming, “No, don’t, don’t, no.” They all startled and looked back. Glaring down the hall, Gabe shook his head, grabbed Ainsley’s hand, and pulled her towards the set. Shawn quickly turned and followed.
Lizzie took Chloe’s hand. “What’s the matter?”
Chloe’s face was white with terror. She pointed towards the double doors through which the trio had already disappeared and sobbed. “That man…”
“What man?” Lizzie said.
Chloe just kept pointing and sobbing.
“Lizzie, help me get Chloe out of here,” I said. “Could you bring her backpack to the car?”
Lizzie followed, waited inside the doorway till we were in the car, and then ran down the stairs and handed me the backpack. “What happened?” she said.
“I’m not sure. Chloe was assaulted recently and something about Ainsley, Gabe, and Shawn seemed to trigger her memory.”
Lizzie froze. Her black eyes were wide but focused on something far beyond the scene she’d just witnessed. After a few moments, she returned to the situation at hand. “Vale told me about the attack. She wondered if I’d heard anything on the street that might help the police, but I hadn’t.” Lizzie wiped the snow from her eyes, smearing her mascara.
I reached in my purse and handed her a tissue. “You’d better get back inside,” I said.
Lizzie nodded. “Don’t leave Chloe alone,” she said. “I know all about what it’s like to be attacked.” Lizzie held out her arms and pulled back her sleeves. Her wrists were crisscrossed with scars.
* * *
—
Chloe was still shaking and her breathing was hiccupy when we arrived back at our house. After I helped her out of her coat and boots, I put my arm around her shoulder, guided her into the family room, turned on the fireplace, and picked up an afghan Mieka had made for me. My heart was clenched in sadness for Lizzie, and for Chloe.
“When she was younger, if Taylor was upset, I wrapped her in this afghan, and we sat together and watched Bear in the Big Blue House,” I said. “Want to try?”
Chloe’s nod was dubious, but as we settled in to watch the DVD, her breathing calmed and her body relaxed. By the time Luna sang the goodbye song, Chloe was smiling. “Can we watch another one?” she said.
“Absolutely, you heard what Bear and Luna said. Whenever we want, they’re waiting for us to come and play. While you get started on the next show, I’m going to go to the hall and phone Zack.”
“And tell him what we’re doing.”
“Right,” I said.
Zack picked up immediately. “I’ll have to keep my voice down,” I said. “Chloe’s in the next room.”
“What’s going on?”
“Here’s the short version. Nick called a little over an hour ago and asked me to take care of Chloe this morning. She was at the sound stage and I was driving Taylor there, so I picked her up. When Chloe and I were getting ready to leave, there was an incident.”
“What kind of incident?”
I gave Zack a brief account of the episode in the hallway. “Obviously something about Ainsley, Gabe, and Shawn O’Day triggered a memory of the assault for Chloe.”
“Did she see their faces?”
“No. I don’t think she even heard their voices—maybe a murmur. I was right beside her, and I don’t remember hearing distinct words. Zack, it all happened so quickly. The three of them were already down the hall when Chloe reacted.”
“We’ll have to tell Nick.”
“I agree, but I think we have to hang tight for a while. Nick’s lighting a complicated scene, and he has to be there. Right now, Chloe’s fine.”
I could hear the frustration in Zack’s voice. “You’re right,” he said. “But if Chloe has remembered something and will talk about it, there might be a chance to catch the creep who hurt her.”
“Nick needs to be handled with care too,” I said. “Just multiply what you’re feeling by a thousand, and you’ll have an approximation of the kind of anger he’s trying to control. He’s holding on, but barely. We should talk to him about what happened when we can be there to support him.”
Nick phoned at eleven. He said he’d had no luck getting an aide. I told him there was no hurry, that Chloe and I were curled up together on the couch watching a DVD, and she was fine. I’d just hung up and put Pantera and Esme in the backyard for a run when the doorbell rang.
Ainsley Blair would not have made the top ten list of people I expected to see on my doorstep that morning, but there she was, snug in a black quilted trench jacket with the hood up. “May I come in?” she said.
I stepped aside. “Of course,” I said. “But we’ll have to keep our voices down. Chloe Kovacs is in the next room.”
Ainsley’s dark, intelligent eyes remained steady. “I saw Chloe Kovacs having some kind of breakdown this morning,” she said. “What was wrong?”
My hackles rose. Ainsley hadn’t left her film crew twiddling their thumbs out of concern for Chloe Kovacs. She was after something, and I wasn’t in the mood for sharing. “Chloe hasn’t talked about what upset her, but when she’s ready to talk, I’m here, so we’re covered. She just needs peace and quiet, so unless there’s something specific…”
Ainsley hesitated, clearly weighing her options. When she raised her chin, I knew she’d decided to press on. “After Chloe was assaulted, Nick Kovacs was so concerned about her that he asked to be replaced as lighting director,” she said. “We didn’t want Nick to be alone, brooding about that terrible incident. So, out of concern for Nick’s well-being, Gabe convinced him to stay.”
“That was probably the best thing for Nick,” I said, “though I’m in no position to judge. But what does that have to do with what happened today?”
Ainsley looked at me pointedly. Her tone was firm. “The Happiest Girl is going to be a brilliant family film. We don’t need a traumatized fourteen-year-old girl with impaired brain function on set stirring up conflict and controversy.”
I kept my voice low. “That fourteen-year-old with impaired brain function is now a guest in my home, Ainsley.” I moved towards the door. “And it’s time for me to get back to her.”
Ainsley was frowning as she stepped towards the threshold. Before leaving, she paused, calculating her words. “You know, Joanne, creating The Happiest Girl brought Roy Brodnitz back from the dead. He’s the best person I’ve ever known, but he’s not strong. If this movie were to blow up in his face, I doubt there’d be another project for him. It would definitely signal the end of Flying Blue Horses. I’m sure you can understand why it’s important for all of us to make sure The Happiest Girl is a success.” She steadily held my gaze. “I would be very discreet about what happened with Chloe this morning. And for everyone’s sake, don’t tell Nick.”
I was so taken aback that I didn’t respond. I simply stood at the open door with my hand on the doorknob while snow blew into the front hall. As Ainsley stepped outside, she said, “I hope Chloe feels better.”
When I closed the door after her, my nerves were frayed. As disturbing as Chloe’s reaction that morning had been, Ainsley’s visit, with its strange innuendos and veiled warnings, was more unsettling. I was turning several disturbing questions over in my mind when I realized the dogs were barking to be let in.
Pantera and Esme were big fans of the outdoors, but five minutes in the blowing snow had been enough. Further proof if, I needed it, that the barometer was falling. When she heard the ruckus, Chloe joined me, and together we went to the kitchen to bring the dogs inside
. Both were snow-covered. Both waited until they’d positioned themselves close to Chloe and me before they gave themselves a vigorous shake. When the snow hit her, Chloe squealed with delight. I threw her a towel. “Want to give me a hand drying these guys off?”
Chloe knelt on the floor beside Esme and went to work. When she was through, she buried her face in Esme’s sodden fur and sniffed deeply.
I grimaced. “Don’t tell me you like the smell of wet dog,” I said.
“It makes me feel happy,” Chloe said, then her face darkened. “Not like…”
I waited. When she didn’t finish her thought, I pressed her. “Not like what, Chloe?”
She flinched, but tightening her hold on Esme, she whispered, “Not the way that man smelled.”
“The man who hurt you?”
She nodded.
“Is that what bothered you this morning?” I asked. “Did those people who walked by us have the same smell?”
When Chloe gave another small nod, I felt my marrow freeze. I took her hand and we brought the dogs into the family room so they could get dry in front of the fire. Sitting on the floor with Pantera and Esme, watching the flames, Chloe seemed at peace, but my insides were roiling.
Chloe had given me tangible information that might well be evidence about her assault. I just didn’t know what to do with it.
* * *
—
Chloe and I had lunch, then she napped, and I fretted. I knew I should call Zack. I also knew that once Zack was aware of the connection Chloe had made this morning, he would feel honour-bound to tell Nick. Contemplating what Nick might do after he learned about Chloe’s discovery shook me to the core. Ainsley had said, “For everyone’s sake, don’t tell Nick,” and I was sorely tempted to heed her advice.