“Do you believe an open marriage can actually work?”
Carter gave me a lopsided smile and shrugged. “It’s better than cheating and lying about it.”
“So Mari is probably shacked up with a guy for the weekend?”
“Makes sense,” he said. “It’s probably why she has her phone turned off.”
“But if she and Kenneth have an open relationship, why would she have to lie about going to a spa?” I asked. “Why not just tell him she’s meeting her lover? He couldn’t object.”
“Beats me.”
“So what now?”
Carter shrugged as he zipped up his black leather jacket. “Go back and tell Mrs. Rossini that locating her friend might take a little longer than we expected.”
“Want to come with me or wait in the car?”
Carter checked his cell phone. “If you don’t mind, I need to return some phone calls. Besides, I think Mrs. Rossini likes you.”
“Do you have another case you’re working on?” I asked.
He returned his phone to his pocket. “A small matter. Nothing too exciting.”
As Carter headed back to the car, I proceeded up to Alice Rossini’s front door and knocked.
Lucy opened the door, and looking to my left, I saw Alice still resting in her chair.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with expectation. Her hands appeared to tremble. “Sarah? Do you have some information already?”
I shuffled my feet uncomfortably. “Uh … sort of.”
“Please sit. Would you like something to drink?”
I looked toward the kitchen to find Lucy standing in the doorway, seemingly ready to move at a moments notice. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“So what did you find out? Please tell me that Mari is okay.”
I sat on the couch and lowered my voice. “Kenneth provided me with some interesting information.”
Alice folded her hands in her lap but they wouldn’t remain still. “What is it?”
“Did Mari ever mention their open relationship?”
Alice blinked at me. “Their what?”
“Mari and Kenneth are allowed to have sex with other people. They both agreed to it when they got married. At least, that’s what he said.”
Alice sighed. “So that’s what that means.”
I smiled at the old women’s naiveté. “It’s probably more common these days than when you were married.”
Her white eyebrows furrowed. “So what are you saying? Mari has taken a lover for the weekend?”
“It’s the most likely scenario. Maybe she doesn’t want anyone to know.”
Alice didn’t move. Her eyes scanned the room as if searching for something. “If she had planned to go away with a lover, she wouldn’t have confirmed spending the day with me. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe her lover showed up at the party and convinced her to go away for the weekend. Did you happen to see Mari paying particular attention to any male guests that evening?”
“Mari was busy talking to many people. As a host, she needed to mingle.”
“Did any of her close friends attend the gala that night?”
Alice tilted her head as if trying to remember. I observed her pale skin and small frame. She seemed so fragile and worried. “Mari is friendly with the charity event coordinator,” she said. “Sheila Hansen is her name. Maybe you could call her and see if she knows about a boyfriend?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have her number, would you?”
“I don’t. But, she’s well known in the fundraising circuit. I believe she has an office here in Bridgeport. Or you could ask Kenneth for her number. He must have it.”
“I don’t want to bother him again. I can find her on the Internet.”
Alice smiled and the color seemed to return to her face. “Thank you, Sarah. I really appreciate it.”
“Well, I’d better get going. Carter is waiting for me in the car.”
“Forgive me for being nosy,” she said. “Are you two an item?”
I laughed. “No. He’s showing me the ropes of the business. I’m still a newbie at all this investigative stuff. I’m taking some online classes in criminology.”
“Well, you seem very professional and knowledgeable. You must be a fast learner.”
“Thank you. I decided to change careers after my divorce a year ago. I used to be a massage therapist.”
“Divorced? I’m sorry to hear that,” she said with a genuine look of dismay.
“It’s not a bad thing. We needed to part ways.”
“Do you have children?” she asked.
“Brian. He’s away at college,” I said. “He wants to go into the music industry but he’s taking classes in business management.”
Alice looked down at her lap. “Henry never had time for children. His career was always top priority. I suppose it’s a blessing when one knows what one has a passion for.”
I nodded. “I think I understand. Being a massage therapist was nice because I knew I was helping people overcome pain, but I always felt I was destined for something … I don’t know. I wanted to challenge myself. To forget the fact that my life was crumbling around me. I suppose it’s a bit naïve, but I thought I could reinvent myself.”
Alice patted my arm. “That’s not naïve, my dear. It’s called making the best of it. I admire people who can pick themselves up by the bootstraps and trudge on. When Henry died, I could have slipped into a deep depression, but I refused to feel sorry for myself.” Alice smiled up at me. “Besides. You must get asked for dates all the time. Do you have someone in your life?”
“Actually. There is someone.” I said. “We’ve been dating almost a year, but it’s nothing serious. We’re taking it slow.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Really? What’s his name? How did you meet?”
“Max Stevens. His sister used to be my receptionist.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Talking about Max’s sister still made me weak in the knees. “I won’t get into the details, but Max is in the surveillance industry so we sometimes collaborate on jobs as well. We have a lot in common that way.”
“How interesting. I hope I’ll get to meet him someday.”
A thought occurred to me. “You know, Max is a horror movie buff. He would get a big kick out of seeing all these props you have displayed.”
Alice’s face lit up. “Well then, you two should come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I wasn’t fishing for an invitation.” Okay, maybe I was.
“It’s no trouble,” she said. “I love company and Lucy is a wonderful cook. Her specialty is chicken and dumplings.”
“That sounds delicious. Are you sure it’s not an imposition?”
“Not at all.”
“I’ll double check with Max, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be available.”
“You’ll get to meet Lucy’s husband, Oliver. Did I mention that they both live here with me?”
“No, you didn’t,” I said, looking around. Lucy was nowhere in sight. “She seems like a helpful young lady.”
“I found them through the Senior Alliance Foundation. Lucy and Oliver moved here from North Carolina a few months ago. My son was worried about me being alone all the time.”
“That explains her accent. She seems mature for a young woman. I can tell she takes good care of you.”
“And Oliver takes good care of the house. Or at least he tries. It’s not easy maintaining an old dwelling like this. He can barely keep up, bless his soul. He’s only a handy man, so he’s learning as he goes.”
Lucy entered the room and set a tray on Alice’s lap. “Time to take your medication, Mrs. Rossini.”
“Thank you, dear. I lost track of time, didn’t I?”
Lucy placed two white pills into Alice’s palm, and then watched closely as Alice downed them with a glass of water.
I figured Carter was tired of waiting for me so I stood up to leave. “Well, Alice, what time shall
we come over tomorrow night? What can I bring?”
“How about six? And no need to bring anything, just that sweetheart of yours. I look forward to meeting him.”
“Great. In the meantime, I’ll call if I’m able to get in touch with Mari’s friend. Who knows, maybe Mari will come home by then and all your worries will be gone.”
“Well, that would certainly ease my mind.”
“By the way, do you have a photograph of Mari?”
“On the mantle.” Alice pointed toward the stone fireplace. “You’re welcome to take it.”
Chapter 4
I spent the rest of the afternoon searching the Internet for anything I could find on Mariposa Parker. To my surprise, there were dozens of hits: many of them newspaper articles and blogs mentioning her charity efforts. One such blog—written by a famous photographer and attending guest at Friday night’s gala—included dozens of photographs from the event.
As I scanned the photos, I felt a pang of envy. I was never invited to parties like this. The Parkers’ home, decked out lavishly with glittery ornamentation, could have been the backdrop for a movie. The attention to detail in everything from the glassware to the streamers held a classy, yet playful aura. The guests were adorned in Mardi Gras costumes, some more embellished than others. Mari was the center of attention in most of the images, wearing a maroon dress, feather headpiece, and copious amounts of flashy jewelry. To describe Mari Parker as a beautiful woman didn’t do her justice. She was a goddess with long, shiny black hair, olive skin, and searing green eyes. A pin-dot of a mole graced her upper lip. Her high cheekbones, flawless skin, and full lips would certainly give Angelina Jolie a run for her money.
Each of the images included a brief commentary, with the requisite list of names of the people who appeared in them. It quickly became apparent to me … this was the who’s who of Bridgeport’s elite crowd including politicians, doctors, lawyers, CEOs, and even a few B-list celebrities. Kenneth looked dashing in his black and white tux, as he posed with many of the guests, including some gorgeous women that were probably the wives of prominent donors.
I wanted to know more about Mari’s modeling career, but I couldn’t find much information – just a few random photos from a swimsuit shoot that had appeared in a Portuguese magazine from 2007.
I found an article from an obscure online charity magazine I’d never heard of. They wrote a feature on Mari’s life, touching upon her brief modeling career in Portugal before she met the handsome Kenneth Parker, CEO of Capitol Investments. Apparently he’d swept her off her feet when they met at a party in Manhattan. Within three months, they were married, and she moved to the USA. She decided she wanted to do something more with her life, and with the help of her new husband’s resources, started her own charity foundation, raising money for various causes, from rare diseases to natural disasters. She was also an advocate for animal rights.
I’ve often felt that people join causes only because a tragedy has affected them personally. However, I couldn’t find one article that explained a reason for Mari’s philanthropy.
I felt certain that Mari must have some dirty little secrets lurking in her past, but damned if I could even find one. No elicit photos with strange men. No rumors of funneling charity funds to personal accounts. Not even a DUI arrest. She appeared to be squeaky clean.
Kenneth Parker’s reputation was less sterling. There were implications of shady business deals, but nothing that seemed to yield any dire consequences. According to one website, his company was worth over three million.
Kenneth and Mari Parker made a stunning couple. Their talents complimented each other. They were smart and well connected. It all seemed too perfect.
* * *
Max arrived half an hour later, just as I finished setting the dining room table. The apartment smelled tangy with the scents of sweet and sour sauce, fried rice, and teriyaki chicken hanging in the air. Chinese take-out: my idea of a gourmet meal.
Max dropped his duffel bag to the side and joined me in the kitchen. His dark blonde hair was curling up at the ends. He needed a trim, but I actually preferred the longer length. More to run my fingers through. He planted a kiss on my cheek and eyed the take-out bags on the table. “I see you slaved in the kitchen all day.”
“I hope this is okay. I’ve been busy with research most of the afternoon. Besides, you know what a horrible cook I am.”
“I’m starving,” he said. “I’d eat anything.”
“Even my burnt meatloaf?” I asked.
“I love your meatloaf. Even when it’s charred to a crisp.”
“Thank God you’re not a fussy eater like my son used to be.”
I handed him a paper plate because doing dishes was also something I tried to avoid at all costs. “So you must have had a busy few days, you didn’t even have time to shave?”
Max glided a hand over his cheek and the stubble. “I wanted to get this job wrapped up so I could get back.” He eyed my computer as I removed it from the table. “So what kind of research were you doing?”
“Carter and I got a job today.”
Max poured himself a glass of white wine and munched on an egg roll.
“Great. How is Carter doing these days? Did he ever go on that date with your friend from high school?”
“Nah. That sort of got pushed to the side. Truth is, I don’t think Carter really wants to date. But then again, who knows. Carter isn’t the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve.”
“He’s in his fifties. If he hasn’t found a woman by now, maybe he never will. He’s been divorced how many years?”
“Five or six.”
“It happened right around the time his daughter overdosed, right? Maybe he’s damaged goods.”
“Or maybe he hasn’t found the right woman.”
Max nodded. “Hey, we should fix him up with my neighbor, Frieda. She’s in her fifties. I think she’s some kind of attorney. Maybe they’d hit it off.”
“I hope she’s not insecure. Carter can be sarcastic. Most people don’t get his dry sense of humor.”
“She’s a lawyer so I doubt she lacks self-confidence.”
“Is she attractive?” I asked.
“For a woman in her fifties? I guess so.”
I laughed. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “Beauty is subjective.”
“I guess so.”
Max reached across the table for another egg roll. “So, can you tell me what the new job entails?”
I scooped a helping of noodles onto my plate and reminded myself I shouldn’t divulge too much information. Not that I didn’t trust Max. I just wanted to be professional. But I figured it didn’t hurt to talk in generalities. “The client is worried about her friend. She left town suddenly and no one has heard from her since Saturday morning. Her phone is turned off and she hasn’t used any credit cards. We talked to the missing woman’s husband, but he isn’t alarmed.”
“Where does he think his wife is?”
“At a spa. Has no idea which one. All I’m doing is making a few phone calls. I left a message for the woman’s best friend, but haven’t heard back yet. Hey, by the way, I have a little surprise for you.”
Max wiped some duck sauce from his lip and looked up at me. “A surprise?”
“The new client invited us for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Why?”
“Her husband produced horror films back in the fifties. You should see all the cool movie props scattered around her house. I told her about your obsession with horror flicks.”
His eyes grew wide. “What’s her husband’s name?”
“Henry Rossini. He passed away over ten years ago. You ever heard of him?”
Max slid his cell phone out of his back pocket, typed something, and then smiled at the screen. “No kidding. The guy made over twenty movies during his career. I wonder if I can download any of them?” He set his phone on the table. “So, what’s his wife like, anyway?”
“Alice is eighty-eight, has white hair, and her voice reminds me of Katharine Hepburn’s.”
“Maybe she is Katharine Hepburn.”
“No, I’m pretty sure she’s dead. Anyway, Alice has a gorgeous home in Prescott Heights with live-in caretakers.”
“Caretakers? Is she sick?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t get around well on her own and needs help keeping track of her meds. I met Lucy. Her husband Oliver maintains the property, but I didn’t get the chance to meet him yet. Alice seems fond of them both.”
Max finished off the egg rolls and added a few more servings of rice to his plate. “Have you discovered anything about the missing friend?”
I reached over and wiped the sauce from his lip with my thumb. “She’s an ex-model from Portugal who now raises money for charities.”
“What’s your impression of the ex-model’s husband?”
“I don’t know. He seems all right. You should see their house. Oh, and I almost forgot. He admitted to having an open relationship with his wife. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Do you know any couples like that?”
“Sure,” Max said. “I knew a couple who tried it. They’re divorced now.”
“Big surprise. Anyway, maybe that’s why Kenneth had to find a woman from Europe. They’re more open minded than us American gals.”
“What does Carter have to say about all of this?”
“Not much. He’s letting me run with it. He seemed a little distracted with another case he’s working on.”
“So, you feel okay about doing this yourself?”
“If I don’t start making money soon, I’ll have to go back to doing massage.”
“I can always help out,” he said. “You know it’s an option if you need it.”
“Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Max smiled wearily and I noticed something change in his expression. His eyes seemed moist as he looked away.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“I just realized something.”
“What?”
“It’s coming up. The one year anniversary of Beth’s death.”
I drew in a quick breath as I reached across the table and took his hand. His sister used to be my receptionist. She was young, cute, and engaged to be married when her life was taken. The circumstances surrounding her murder still haunted me daily. The vision of her body slumped over her desk, the pale skin and lifeless eyes. There was no way I could ever forget that scene. And yet, it was that fateful event that ultimately brought Max and I together.
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