North Star

by Angeline M. Bishop

  Caresse warmly welcomed Nyla and Messina home as her cousin, Diane, and her Aunt Jacqui watched closely. She told Diane about Yvette’s accident as she served them lunch.

  “Yvette has more tests scheduled for Thursday. I’ve decided the girls shouldn’t go,” Caresse whispered to Diane as Nyla and Messina talked happily to each other about their trip.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? The girls will want to see her, too.” Diane stared at her, baffled.

  “I have no intentions of overshadowing one of their best summer with seeing their Auntie Vette in the hospital. I have to wait until she’s looking and feeling more like herself. Besides, Messina is too young to understand why it happened.”

  “Doesn’t Yvette hate hospitals?” Diane asked before she sipped her lemonade.

  “With a passion,” Caresse said. “I think it’s because she’s used to having the ability of handling her business affairs her way and having complete control.”

  “How are you holding up?” Aunt Jacqui Aldana Price cut in when the girls were excused from the table. “You look like you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Caresse blushed at the thought of her reason for not sleeping and chose her words carefully. “A lot happened yesterday, but you’re right, I need more sleep.”

  “Don’t worry about the girls. Diane and I will watch them and prepare dinner tonight, so you go upstairs and get some rest.”

  Caresse never could ignore her father’s younger sister. Aunt Jacqui had a way of taking over a family crisis and making it manageable for all concerned. Her gentle face reminded her of the elegant Lena Horne, while her determined spirit was reminiscent of her father.

  “Okay, Aunt Jacqui. I’m going, but if you need anything, let me know.”

  “I most certainty won’t. That’s not what resting is all about, young lady. Besides, my sweet Diane will make sure I have everything I need.”

  Diane nodded as she began clearing their plates. “We’ll be fine, Carè. Get some rest.”

  As the women worked diligently in the kitchen, Caresse walked upstairs and entered her bedroom. Once the door closed behind her, she began making a list of things to make Yvette feel at home in the hospital.

  Graham stared intently at Rick as he revealed that a guard and cook were paid a substantial amount of money to cause serious accidents at the center.

  “What do you mean, they don’t know who paid them?”

  “I know, I know. It baffled my mind, too, but apparently the mastermind made sure money was enough of a deterrent to keep anyone from asking too many questions.”

  “How much money was offered?”

  “About four thousand per accident to scare Yvette and her staff, but after that, the trail runs cold. I’m hoping forensics will give me some new leads.” Rick rubbed his hand over his clenched fist and stared out Graham’s office window. “I hate being in the dark.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Keep your eyes and ears open. Maybe Caresse or Mr. Mason will stumble across something that won’t mean much to them, but may shed some light on this case for me. I’m scheduled to give Mr. Mason an update at the end of the week, but I’ll wait until I have a chance to pay Yvette a visit.”

  “Good idea.”

  Caresse walked quietly down the hospital corridor with a box under her arm and wheeling an overnight Channel bag behind her. She’d gathered some things from Yvette’s home to make her recovery pleasant, and she hoped her friend was awake to view them.

  As she approached Yvette’s private hospital suite, there seemed to be a lot of people gathered around. Caresse wasn’t sure what had happened, but Yvette was definitely the focus of attention. Her voice carried down the hall.

  “This is not chic, Andre! I look so ordinary in this...what do they call this?” Yvette snapped.

  “It’s a cotton blend hospital gown,” Yvette’s hairstylist answered. “It’s what they give everyone.”

  “Do I look like everyone?” Yvette bellowed. “This isn’t me. Is it?”

  The other people in the room ignored the question and continued watering her plants, hanging new artwork, and installing remote control curtains. Caresse was the sixth person to enter the room.

  “I guess we’re feeling better?” Caresse asked as she entered the suite.

  “Carè! I knew you would come. What did you bring me?” Yvette purred as she put one hand out like a child asking for a piece of candy.

  “First, what are you doing here? This place looks like a home improvement show.”

  “You know how I feel about feng shui. The colors were all wrong, and I can’t sleep with my feet facing the door. They call that the ‘death position’ for a reason, girlfriend. The decorator of this place did some dreadful work.”

  Caresse sighed and shook her head as she watched a few men install a lightweight folding screen to hide the hospital monitors near her bedside. “Wow, I have a feeling when everything is done, it will look like a spa retreat in here. Does the hospital administration know about all of this?”

  “Of course not! I paid a few people to keep their mouths shut, and everyone’s happy. Well, almost everyone. My doctor is a real sour sack. I don’t think he knows how to smile. Can you see if I can get another doctor assigned to my case?”

  “Yvette, he saved your life.”

  “I know that! But I need a doctor with a decent bedside manner. Can you blame me for wanting my own McSteamy?” Yvette demanded as Andre held a hand mirror to show her new hairdo. “I look too good to only see Pollyannic hospital aids, overworked nurses, and Doctor Doom.”

  “I brought you a few things to make you feel better. It’s not a good-looking man, but I think you’ll like them.” Caresse placed the box on the bed beside Yvette and suitcase on a chair.

  Yvette motioned Andre to open the box. He did, revealing some of her personal toilettes and books, while the suitcase contained an assortment of nightgowns and robes.

  “Yes, yes! This is what I need. Everyone take a break. I need to change into some real clothes.”

  The workers and Andre happily stopped their tasks and left the room. Caresse locked the door and started to help her friend get out of the hospital gown when the bandages halted her. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what her friend had been through.

  “Are you in pain right now?”

  “Not much. They give pretty powerful stuff in here. Don’t worry, it looks worse than it feels.”

  They placed her in a beautiful royal purple silk gown with a matching robe. Caresse adjusted the pillows behind Yvette’s head so she could see the fragrance calla lilies and white roses that decorated her room.

  “Are those from your parents?”

  “Yeah, William and Sadie know what their daughter likes.” She nodded. “Dad came in here and said, ‘Yvette Mavi, you better listen to these doctors and get better because we have too much to do, while mom instructed some florist to place flower arrangements on different surfaces in the room.”

  Caresse laughed. “And I wondered where you got this flare from.”

  There was a soft knock on the door. Caresse answered as Felicia, one of the community center secretaries, strolled into the room with a large Louis Vuitton bag.

  “Did you bring him?”

  “Yes,” Felicia said nervously.

  Caresse didn’t like the way Yvette squeaked in delight as she demanded Felicia open the bag. And, as if on cue, Yvette’s white Persian cat strolled onto the hospital bed.

  “You got to be kidding me? You can’t have him in here.” Caresse sighed as the workers and Andre returned to the room.

  “Why not? He’s family, and if they want me to get better and sashay my curvy hips out of here, they will give me what I need to recover. Where’s my laptop, iPhone, and iPod?”

  Felicia produced them from another bag and began looking for an electrical outlet.

  “See Carè, I’ll have my own command center by noon.”

  “You
need to be resting.”

  “I am resting, and happy. You haven’t seen my feet touch the floor once.”

  Then Graham entered Yvette’s hospital suite. “I thought I would find you here. What’s going on? Are you expecting President Obama?”

  “I wish.” Yvette answered quickly. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”

  Graham rubbed his chin and surveyed the work until he noticed a puff of white fur moving at Yvette’s side. “Is that...?”

  “Yes, it is,” Caresse answered. “I’m trying to make her see Cleo shouldn’t be in here.”

  “It looks like you already lost that battle,” he said as he placed a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

  It had been days since she had seen him, but nightly phone calls to console her as he worked hard to complete the latest issue of Psyche had helped.

  Lowering his head to hers, he whispered, “Hang in there, you’re doing fine.”

  Caresse smiled weakly and turned her gaze to a portrait of Yvette, taken from the Masons’ home, prominently displayed by the window. The photo was one of Yvette’s Christmas gifts to her parents last year. She sat elegantly in a lavender dress as her radiant eyes shone with joy and laughter.

  Caresse had a smaller version of the same photo displayed at her home and remembered fondly how Yvette helped Nyla find the perfect spot to display it. The hospital room was beautiful, and Caresse was touched that over five hundred center patrons had sent their well wishes and gifts.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Can we talk?”

  Caresse motioned Graham toward the hallway so they could speak alone when the sight of someone at the end of the hallway unnerved her.

  “What is he doing here?” Caresse whispered as she spotted her ex-husband Keith retreating toward the elevator. “He never even liked Yvette.”

  Graham followed her gaze to a man moving quickly through the crowd. “Caresse, I’ll meet you outside. I want to make sure my car isn’t blocking any emergency vehicles.” He kissed her cheek softly and used a side exit door to head quickly to the parking lot.

  As Graham rounded the corner of the building, he saw Keith make his way to a white Mercedes waiting by the curb. Keith’s broad shoulders and brooding eyes reminded him of a football linebacker. His steps were hurried as he neared the car, but Graham couldn’t make out the driver. It was strange for anyone to pay a hospital visit to a person they didn’t like and not enter the room. It didn’t add up. Maybe Caresse could shed some light on Keith’s hatred before he alerted Rick.

  Graham walked toward his car and watched the Mercedes speed out of sight. When he entered his car and started the engine, a cold chill ran through him when he thought about how close Caresse had been to being severely injured that night. Maybe the accident wasn’t meant for Yvette, he thought as he moved his car into a better parking spot.

  As he watched Caresse walk toward him, he exited his seat and joined her at the passenger door. Before she could reached the car handle, he took her hand and stared deep into her eyes. She had been crying, yet she tried to conceal it with a false smile. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently as she exhaled the tension from her body.

  “Lean on me, Caresse. Cry, yell, or curse if you want. I’m man enough to take it.”

  As if permission was what she needed to release her burden, Caresse cried in his arms and let him rock her as people walked around them. “Her back is a mess. When I think of how close we came to losing her. Why, Graham? Did this happen to her?”

  “I’m not sure, but we have to finish the work she started. She needs to know all of her dedication wasn’t in vain.”

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  Graham released her from his arms and helped her into his car. “First, we make sure everyone connected with the Mason Ball makes the event a success. I don’t think Mr. Mason would have it any other way, do you?”

  “You’re right. Yvette deserves that much,” Caresse stated as she dried her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m glad you came, Graham.”

  “There’s no other place I wanted to be. In the brief time since I met her, Yvette has stuck me as a very influential lady. Nothing would make me happier than to help the community on her behalf.”

  Graham slowly drove through Toms River toward the Mason estate.

  “Caresse, you said you were surprised to see Keith today since he never liked Yvette. What did you mean by that?”

  “Keith always blamed Yvette for our marriage ending. He believed she was the one that convinced me to leave him a few years ago. I never could make him see it was my decision, so his presence at the hospital may have been his way of rubbing salt in my wound.”

  “It was a bad divorce?”

  “No worse than any other, but Keith doesn’t accept defeat easily.”

  “Did you tell him about the accident?”

  “No, but I’m sure one of co-workers at BaylorMead Pharmaceuticals brought it to his attention. A few of his director colleagues sit on the executive board of the Mason Center.”

  “Your ex works for BaylorMead?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  He was momentarily speechless. “Rick’s family owns that company. Small world, huh?”

  “Yes, small world indeed.” She looked up, disoriented.

  Graham wondered if he should make Caresse aware of the ongoing investigation, but cast the thought aside when she began staring out the window at the estate grounds. There was no way he needed to burden her with this, and if her ex-husband was involved in her best friend’s accident, it could be too much for her bear. What he needed to do was talk to Rick to see if he could find out if Keith had the means to plague the Mason Center with threatening phone calls and unexplained accidents.

  “How could you be so foolish?”

  “No one saw me, so what are you so ticked about? It’s not like you’re even doing any of the work,” Keith fumed as he tried to read her profile as she drove quickly toward her office.

  “I’ve given you all the tools you’d need, but you want to create a quagmire by gloating at the hospital.” She hit the brakes, then slapped her steering wheel as a school bus of children stopped short to let some preschoolers off at their stop. “I’m beginning to understand why she wanted an upgrade. Anyone is better than a Cro-Magnon covering his manipulative behavior with metrosexual tendencies.”

  “Watch it, or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? What? You need to remember this thing is bigger than you, Keith.” When the bus turned off its flashing lights, she zoomed past it. “And if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be stalking Caresse like some sad little puppy. Everyone knows there are only Doers and Waiters in this world and for some God-forsaken reason, I’m trying to transform you into a Doer. The only way to get her back is to make it happen!”

  “I guess you have all the answers, right?”

  “We wouldn’t be this far if I didn’t.”

  “It looks more like Caresse has some broad shoulders to lean on instead. All you did was accelerate their relationship.”

  “That’s how it is right now, but I know Graham. He won’t stay for much longer. It’s not in his DNA, and I should know ‘cause we’re cut from the same perfectionist, power-driven cloth. And little Miss Homemaker will see that real soon. Be ready. When he leaves her shattered on the floor, you can swoop in and clean up his mess.” She grinned wickedly as she reached into her white leather Louis Vuitton bag and pulled out an envelope.

  Keith took it and placed it in his inner pocket. “Should I count it? Is it all there?”

  She shot him a piercing glance, then hastily pulled her car to side of the road. “Why don’t you get the fuck out and count it on the walk home!”

  Chapter 14

  Malcolm unsuccessfully tried his duplicate key in the door of Laila’s townhouse. His emotions seemed out of control as he thought about the man swirling a happy Laila around at the beach last week. His mind whirled
at their familiar smiles and playful touches, only a few days after he’d walked out of her life, and now he was baffled that she changed the locks.

  Malcolm tried to peer into her living room window as the shock of being locked out yielded quickly to fury. The early evening sunset cast a strong amber hue, making it difficult to make out any movement behind curtains. He lost count of the number of nights she’d pleaded with him to stop being so critical of her and to love her unconditionally. She said she loved him, but needed a firmer commitment. A commitment he couldn’t give because he was enjoying his freedom more than her company.

  So Malcolm had begun distancing himself for the smallest reasons, hoping she would walk away and save him the trouble of being the bad guy, but Laila wasn’t getting the hint. He told her he wanted an article published in Psyche, sex on a regular basis, and unlimited access to her place. To his amazement, she’d given him all that, and more.

  After working long days at work, she would cook him wonderful dinners and made sure he had breakfast waiting every morning when he woke up. She showered him with lavish gifts and dinners at expensive restaurants to reassure him that she was seeing him and only him, but the moment he walked away, she was off to the beach with some hard body she’d probably met at the gym.

  Malcolm raged as he began pounding on Laila’s door. If she had any decency, she would be inside crying her eyes out for making me walk out. “Open up, Laila. I know you’re in there.”

  “Actually, she’s not,” a security officer stated as he approached Laila’s landing. “Can I help you, sir?”

  Malcolm felt his blood pressure rise at the challenge in his voice. “There’s no need. I forgot my key.”

  “Do you live here?”

  “What business is it of yours? I have a key and permission to be here.”

  “If you had a key, you wouldn’t be disturbing the peace of Ms. Sheridan’s neighbors. I must ask you to leave. And since Ms. Sheridan has notified security to remove any person seeking access to her unit without her presence or permission, I must ask you to not return.”