08 Illusion (26 page)

She’d also trimmed down the routine. No rotations, no gleeful somersaults. She rose a few feet, held herself there in the precarious grip of whatever power supposedly had her, then settled to the floor at the peak of the crowd’s interest. She got her enthusiastic big finish. To Dane’s thinking, the response would have been even better if she’d not “tapped into the unknown” and come back sweating, trembling, and looking faint even as she greeted members of the audience. Some folks asked if she was all right, and her acting was so good they couldn’t be sure from her assurances that she was. As the folks sharing Dane’s table rose to go, a lady said, “Creepy!”

Well, that said it all. Dane would talk to Eloise about it as soon as the crowd thinned down. They would talk about many things. He scanned the menu.

“Hello. Would you happen to be Dane Collins?”

A handsome young man who dressed well and cared about his hair stood by Dane’s table, extending his hand. Dane took it. “That’s right.”

“Seamus Downey, Miss Kramer’s attorney. May I sit down?”

Dane didn’t mean to delay an answer. It simply took him a moment to process the words “Miss Kramer’s attorney.” “Uh. Sure. Have a seat.”

Downey chose the chair directly opposite Dane and planted himself there, spine, shoulders, and chin exuding confidence, authority, maybe even ownership of the table.

“Miss Kramer’s attorney,” Dane repeated. “No kidding. I didn’t know she had an attorney.”

Downey put on a smile he learned from another attorney, a banker, or a job interviewer. “Well, we’re good friends mostly, but the longer our relationship the more I’ve accepted the role of legal counsel, watching out for her interests.”

Your relationship?
“How long have you known her?”

He smiled that smile again. “Long enough. We’ve had some great times together.”

“I see.”

“But I understand you’ve approached Miss Kramer regarding a professional relationship?”

And now that’s your business?
“Actually, she approached me last Monday and we had a lengthy chat. I assume she’s told you all about it.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, I am considering working with her.”

“Oh, then it’s very timely that we met.” Downey looked around the room. Eloise was just finishing up with some admirers. “Eloise?”

She said good-bye and came to the table. She looked more than tired; she looked troubled. Seamus stood—which reminded Dane to do the same—and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Wonderful performance!” They sat, Dane and Seamus facing each other, Eloise on one side. Her head drooped. She removed her hat and rubbed her eyes.

“Dear, your makeup,” said Seamus, pulling a napkin from the table dispenser.

“Oh,” she said, using the napkin to dab her face. The napkin quivered in her hand.

“I’ve just been making Mr. Collins’s acquaintance. We were about to discuss his possible future relationship with you.”

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, right.” The eyeliner left smeared shadows under her eyes, and her whiskers were streaked. Her hair was matted with sweat. She had yet to smile.

“You okay?” Dane asked.

“Yeah,” she said, and managed a smile. “Pretty tired.”

Downey said to her, “I think Mr. Collins would be interested to know how we’ve resolved some of your issues.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” She looked at Dane and said, “This is Seamus.”

“Your attorney,” said Dane.

By her inquiring glance at Downey it seemed she was still learning that idea. “Uh, yeah. And he’s, he’s really incredible. He talked to the hospital and got everything straightened out.”

Now, this was unexpected news. “Everything? Really?”

“First of all,” said Downey, “again, thank you for intervening and taking care of Eloise after that whole incident. It’s just unbelievable what happened. It was horrendous.”

Dane looked at one, then the other, unsure whom to address as he said, “You’re welcome.”

“But you’ll be glad to know that I’ve met with the hospital and they’ve agreed to a settlement.”

Yep, unexpected news. Once again, Dane had to draw on some stagecraft to keep from broadcasting his confusion and surprise all over the room. “They have?”

Downey nodded.

“Spokane County … ?”

“Spokane County Medical Center.” Downey smiled at Eloise. “Eloise will be starting up an investment portfolio, I imagine.”

She smiled back at him.

“Uh, wait a minute,” said Dane. He lowered his voice to ask, “You talked about the two guys in the SUV?”

Downey looked to Eloise. When she nodded, he replied, “After all you’ve done for Eloise you have a right to know. I can’t say the hospital was at fault—that’s part of the agreement—but I can tell you that they have compensated Eloise for any damages and that they will cease and desist from this particular method of rounding up wandering patients. No more thugs in SUVs or any other form—ever!”

Dane held himself back. Any questioning of Downey’s story would suggest Dane had his own version and now that version was bleeding value like a bad stock in a bear market. “No kidding.”

“As for any personal, private information about Eloise, that is expunged. Cleared. The hospital has no further interest in her and will respect her privacy.”

“Okay. That’s great.”

“So since this may have been a matter of concern to you, we wanted to clear this up
and
…”

And?

“In light of any professional interest you may have in Miss Kramer, we need to be clear that the rules of privacy apply to that relationship as well. She has already shared some things with you not realizing that they were a private matter and that she had no obligation to divulge any of it to a prospective employer, manager, instructor, whoever. So, to be fair to her, we would ask you to bar any of that information from your considerations. Wipe it from the record, let her start clean, and judge her on her own present-day merits. Are you following me so far?”

Was that a door Dane heard closing? “I think I understand what you’re saying.”

“And you must not encroach on her privacy at any time in the future. Any conversation you have with her must pertain to the business at hand, to her training, your management agreement, and so forth. Nothing personal. You follow?”

Dane rested back in his chair and eyed Seamus Downey, Miss Kramer’s attorney, taking all the time he needed to decide if he was offended or not.
Mmm, yeah
. He supposed he was.

“May I ask Miss Kramer a question?”

“If it’s nothing personal.”

He asked her, “Did you really hire this guy?”

Downey answered, “That’s privileged.”

“He’s my friend,” was all she said.

All right, all right, it made sense—on the face of it. She was young, Downey was young, they’d found each other, they were beginning a relationship. What could be more normal and to be expected than that? And an attorney! Could be a good catch—
if
Downey was a good man. Right now Dane wasn’t so sure.
Slimy
came to mind.
Slippery. Scheming.
It was even tempting to draw out the
s
’s.
Pardon the impressions of an old raisin, kid, but he’s not right for you.

Old raisin? Right.
Another
s
word came to mind: sixty, his age in a few weeks. It was a good thing to keep in mind. Acting and thinking that age would keep him from being stupid enough to feel … well, the way he was feeling.

“Okay then” Dane rose, grabbed his coat and Louis L’Amour hat. “Miss Kramer, should it still matter, I agree to your request. I will be happy to coach and manage you
and
”—he shot a direct look at Mr. Downey—“I also agree not to ask you any more personal questions or violate your privacy.” He looked directly at her. “I’d like you to work for me in exchange for my services for, oh, let’s say a two-month probationary period. Once we get your career started and you achieve enough success to pay me a commission, then we can talk about that. Agreeable so far?”

She nodded, with respect.

“We’ll be happy to discuss any offer,” said Downey. “Of course, she may decide she already has sufficient management.”

“You?” Dane found that amusing and didn’t hide it. He told Eloise, “If you’re still interested I’ll be available at my ranch nine o’clock Monday morning. Bring a lunch and a change of clothes because you’re going to get dirty”—a glance at Downey—“and don’t bring him.”

He put on his hat, pinched the brim in her direction, and left.

Monday morning.

There was one last picture of Mandy to put away: the studio portrait from 1990 that hung in the dining room. It was one of Dane’s favorites because Mandy was posing outdoors with a serene, green landscape behind her, a reminder of where she grew up. She hadn’t lived on a ranch since they were married, but in her heart she never left it. Dane lifted the picture from its hook and carried it in front of him, her face close to his, as he went up the stairs.

Dane,
he told himself, this
is Mandy. This is the one who locked arms and souls with you and stayed at your side as long as she possibly could. This is the one who made
you
the center of her life, who gave
you
her smile every morning. You …

Not some hotshot, on-his-last-pimple kid who thinks he’s a lawyer.

It was ten minutes to nine. He quickened his step up to the landing and hurried down the hall.

The real thing, that’s what she was, and she stuck by you for forty years. She was no nineteen-year-old. She was well seasoned, life-proven. A complete package.

He went to a room at the end of the hall, a section of attic space that had been nicely finished to create a storeroom, hobby room, sewing room, whatever. Inside, all the pictures of Mandy throughout her life, all the framed news articles, reviews, and magazine covers, everything that had to do with Dane and Mandy leaned against the walls several layers deep. He gently set the dining room picture alongside the one of him and Mandy receiving Magicians of the Year at the Magic Castle in 1998, then stood, surrounded by all the printed and photographed proclamations that there ever was a real Mandy who loved him. He’d even hidden their wedding picture.

All right. As far as he knew, Eloise had never been anywhere in the house or looked in any direction where she could have seen these things. Now, if she showed up, she would be whoever she was with no input from him or his memorabilia, no information she could borrow to build on. She wouldn’t know of any resemblance or be burdened by it. She wouldn’t even know Mandy’s name.

Was he being rational? By now, that was becoming a very cloudy issue.

He made his way downstairs in time to hear Shirley knocking on the kitchen door.

“Knock knock?” she called.

“Come in.”

She had the mail and set it on the counter. “Good morning, Mr. C.”

“Good morning.”

“I’m going to shut down the pond skimmers today and I’m making a dump run if you have anything you want to throw out.”

“What’d we do with those patio tables that were out on the deck?”

“I put ’em in the barn.”

“We may need to move them into the dining room.”

Her eyebrows went up slightly. “Okay.”

“I want to set up the dining room like a restaurant, set up some tables to walk around and turn in different directions and talk to people sitting there, you know what I mean?”

She went into the dining room to get the concept. “A restaurant?”

“Not for real. Just for training purposes.”

“Oh.” Her eyes were lingering on the walls and shelves with empty spaces they didn’t have before.

“And I’m thinking about that barn. We could use all that floor space if we got it cleaned out, got all that straw out of there, all the junk and the animal stuff. And all that old magic stuff could stand to be gone through and stored more safely.”

She nodded, taking just enough steps to give her a view of the living room, then turning back again. “That’ll give me plenty to do this winter.”

“I might have some help for you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Eloise?”

“What do you think?”

She wasn’t overjoyed. She took one more look around the dining room and then, wincing a bit, ventured to ask, “You realize she has a drug problem?”

“I’d like to know anything you can tell me.”

“Well, you saw her for yourself, the condition she was in, and when we were alone in the bathroom she told me she had a little problem with drugs that day.”

He considered that and nodded. “I guess that’s what you’d call it.”

“And you’re sure you want to hire her?”

“She’s very talented. I’d like to help her with her career if I can, and in exchange she can work on the place—if you’re agreeable.”

Shirley was trying to act agreeable but looked constipated. “With me?”

“You’re in charge. You can set her to work on that barn for starters, and it’s okay if you give her the dirty work. I want to see how much grit she has.”

“And what if she’s just a flake?”

“It won’t take long to find out. And I want you to tell me either way.”

She just wagged her head, dark thoughts behind her eyes. “You’re the boss.”

The phone rang a double ring.

Dane checked the wall clock. It was nine o’clock, on the button.

They went to the front window.

“Oh, Lord,” said Shirley.

It was the blue Volkswagen.

chapter

24

K
now how to handle a pitchfork?” Shirley asked.

“Sure,” said Eloise.

“How about a rake?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, we’ll see.” Shirley handed her both, along with a wide aluminum dustpan. “Okay, start with that corner stall. Pitch all the straw out into the middle area here and then rake the stall clean. Go through all the stalls on this side and then do the other side, and then we’ll come through here with the trailer and pick up all the straw and haul it out to the compost pile. Once we get all the straw and manure out of here we’ll start dealing with the junk.”