A Moment in Time (34 page)

"Thanks, Val," Eddie said. "You're a champ."
He kissed her cheek, and they hugged again.

She hugged Jonathan next. "I'll get on my
way," she said.

"We'll walk you to the car," Eddie
offered.

"No," she said, turning to leave. "That's
okay. You two do what you have to do. I'm fine."

She walked through the grounds, on through
the verdant garden, and then into the courtyard parking area.
I
wish I really was fine
, she thought, shaking her head. But
something about Noah's death—Noah's
murder
, she reminded
herself—disturbed her deeply. Something she couldn't put her finger
on.

Who on earth would do such a thing?
she asked herself.
Perhaps Jonathan was right. Maybe it was some
nutcase. A random act of violence. But why go to so much trouble?
Buying the poison and the meat; parking at a distance so as not to
be seen or heard; taking the path down from the bridge along the
creek in the darkness of night? And what about the invisible
fencing, if that was actually a factor? Some nutcase knew about
that?

She got in the car and started it, headed to
the clinic to put the meat-filled bag in the freezer there. A
shudder went up her spine. This is so malicious, she thought.
Why would anyone deliberately kill a dog?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Are you sure you'd rather not have dinner
with us?"

Bibi Whitman asked. "It's not a large party,
just twenty or so." She took a sip of her vodka martini, then set
it down on the table next to the white wicker chair on which she
was perched. She sat erectly, one leg crossed carefully over the
other, one low-heeled spectator pump planted firmly on the stone
terrace.

"You're very kind, Bibi," Lolo said, "but I
think after I get out of this polo gear and get cleaned up, we'll
take a nap and go out for a hamburger or some¬thing. Make it an
early night."

"Well, it's no wonder," she said, looking at
him understandingly. "You must be exhausted. You played like a
demon, Lolo. I bet every owner there wishes you were on his team.
In fact, I bet you get some nice offers after the way you played
today."

Lolo grinned. "Well, thanks, Bibi," he
said.

"Are you sure that Joe's okay?" Arielle
asked.

"Oh, yes, Arielle," Bibi said. She trilled
laughter. "It's just age, dear. He tries to do too much. You know
how men are. He'll be fine after a little rest."

"Oh, good," Arielle said, "I was worried
about him." Arielle smiled at the older woman sweetly.
It's no
wonder the old goat's half dead,
she thought.
A dinner party
every single night, a luncheon every day, mimosa-soaked breakfasts,
and scotch-laced teas—it's enough to kill a man half his age. On
top of which he has to put up with the dragon lady.

Arielle took a cigarillo from the pack on the
coffee table, and Lolo lit it for her. "Thanks, Lolo," she
said.

Bibi and Lolo began talking about the polo
practice session, analyzing it play by play, and Arielle planted a
smile on her face and tuned out, bored by the conversation. She'd
decided she hated polo, but she liked the men who played it.

She watched her hostess with fascination,
convinced that Bibi was flirting with Lolo, who seemed to be
enjoying it enormously. It was all Arielle could do to keep from
giggling aloud, the idea was so ridiculous. Bibi's chestnut-dyed
hair looked as if it had been set with mayonnaise, and her
perfectly made-up face could only be described as horsey at best.
Her couture- tailored suit with matching everything only made her
look older than she was.

She's somewhere north of sixty, and she
looks like somebody's maid playing dress-up,
Arielle thought
unkindly.

She took a long drag off of her cigarillo and
heaved an inaudible sigh along with a plume of smoke. It didn't
matter one iota how old or ugly the warhorse was, she thought. Bibi
came from big bucks, older and cleaner and better-connected than
most, and she could have looked like a walrus. The society
columnists would always kowtow, referring to her as a great beauty
and legendary hostess and style-maker extraordinaire.

Not like me
, Arielle thought
enviously.
I've had to work for every dress, every piece of
jewelry, every goddamn cent.

"Well, I'd better go see to the details for
dinner," she heard Bibi saying, "but you two young lovers do
whatever you want. Stay out here and enjoy the terrace as long as
you like, take a swim . . . whatever." She smiled meaningfully.

"Thanks for a wonderful day," Lolo said. "I
look forward to the match tomorrow."

Arielle came to attention. "Tell Joe I hope
he feels better," she said.

"I will, dear," Bibi said. "Oh, and don't
forget. The keys are in that little Jeep. The dark green one. Help
yourselves. Come and go as you like."

"Thanks, Bibi," Arielle said. "You're a
lifesaver."

"Don't mention it," Bibi said. She rose to
her feet, and Lolo followed suit.

"We'll see you in the morning," he said.

"Ta-ta," she said, disappearing through an
open door into the house.

Arielle stood up and stretched. "Let's go,"
she said.

"Finished with your drink?" Lolo asked.

"We can have another one in the guest house,"
Arielle said.

They strolled arm-in-arm through the lushly
planted gardens toward the immaculate cottage that served as a
guest house. "I think Bibi's taken a real liking to you, Lolo,"
Arielle said, her stiletto-heeled Jimmy Choo sandals click-clacking
noisily on the stone path.

Lolo laughed. "You must be kidding."

"I saw the way she was looking at you,"
Arielle said teasingly. "I've been wondering why she's always so
nice to me, and I thought it was just because I'm getting a big
settlement out of Wyn." She pinched Lolo's ass. "But now I know
that's not the only reason. She likes to look at you, and I don't
blame her."

"You're crazy," he said, slipping his arm
around her shoulder and kissing her cheek. Then he looked at her
with a serious expression. "You know, I do think one reason she's
so nice to us is because you're divorcing Wyn. Joe was sort of the
undisputed king of the polo world until Wyn came along and got all
the attention."

She laughed. "Joe hasn't played polo in a
hundred years," she said. "I bet he hasn't been on a horse in
fifty."

"Yes, but he owned winning teams," Lolo said,
"and Wyn's teams came along and started beating his."

Arielle looked surprised. "I hadn't really
thought about that," she admitted. "I guess you could be right.
Bibi's a competitive old coot, and she wouldn't like to think her
husband's team was losing."

"That's right," he said.

"So it's not just your body she's interested
in?" Arielle teased.

"No," he said. "I don't think so." He leaned
down and kissed her cheek again.

"That's better," Arielle said.

"And it'll get a whole lot better than that,"
Lolo said with a lewd look.

"Promise?" she replied.

"Have I ever failed you?"

"No," she said. "Not yet."

Arielle, her head on Lolo's shoulder, ran a
fingernail down his muscular chest, on down past his six-pack abs,
and into the dampness of the curly black mat at the base of his
torso. She squeezed his heroic toy. "That was better than ever,"
she said. "I think playing polo makes you horny."

Lolo laughed. "I don't have a thing for
horses, if that's what you mean."

"No," she said, "it's not what I meant. I
think you're like old Bibi. You get a charge out of the competition
. . . and the danger."

"Maybe," he said hesitantly, looking at her
with curiosity. "I never really thought about it, but I guess I
do."

"You like a challenge," she said. "Don't
you?"

"I. . . usually do," Lolo replied, knowing
she was leading up to something but uncertain as to exactly what it
was.

"I know you do," she said, a fingernail
trailing down his biceps and onto his forearm. She took his hand in
hers. "Lolo, you've got to help me with something," she said.
"Maybe something challenging." She looked up at him.

"What?" he asked. Then he frowned. "Jesus,
Arielle. Don't tell me. You've still obsessed with this crazy idea
of going to Wyn's. Right?"

She nodded. "Not exactly," she said. "I
called Santo yesterday, and we—"

"You what?" he exclaimed, sitting up.

"I called Santo," she said, sitting up next
to him, "and we had a very interesting conversation. I'm supposed
to meet him tonight."

"I don't believe this," Lolo said, looking
away from her. "The lawyers have told you to lay off and mind your
own business. To wait. And you won't pay any attention to
them."

"Lolo," she said cajolingly, "listen to me.
You know and I know that Wyn's so rich he can drag this out in
court forever. Do you want to starve in the meantime?"

"No," he said, his dark eyes fiery. "But I
don't like the idea of you messing with Wyn. Or that creep
Santo."

"Oh, I can handle Santo. He's just a big
pussycat," she said. "At least with me. And there's no danger
involved. I just want you there when I talk to him . . . as a
witness."

"But what are you going to talk about?" he
asked, exasperated. "How the hell can Santo help you?"

"That's exactly what we're going to talk
about," she said. "How we can help each other."

"I don't like this, Arielle," he said, a hard
look in his eyes. "I don't like it one single little bit."

She cupped his chin in her hand and turned
his face to hers. "You're not scared, are you, Lolo?"

He stiffened. "Of course I'm not scared."

"Then, please," she said. "For me?" She
stared into his eyes pleadingly. "I've asked for so little from
you, and I love you so much. Don't you love me?"

His features melted immediately, and he
wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, you know I do, Arielle," he said.
"I love you very much."

"Then you'll go with me tonight?"

He sighed. "I think my plan to talk to Wyn
man to man was a better idea, but I'll go," he said. "I don't like
it, but I'll go."

"Oh, thank you, Lolo," she said, peppering
his face with kisses. "You won't regret it. I promise."

"I hope not," he said thoughtfully.

Colette hung up the telephone and sighed.
"Oh, Hayden," she said, brushing a finger across the tiny
hedgehog's quills, "poor darling Val. We must go to her at once."
She made kissing noises in his direction, then carefully placed him
in the pocket of one of the big linen smocks she habitually wore
around the house. She traipsed into the bathroom, flipped on the
light switch, and looked at herself in the mirror. "Dear, dear,
Hayden," she said. "We mustn't let anyone see Mummy looking like
this."

She picked up a little case of blusher on the
vanity and brushed at her cheekbones extravagantly. "Too much is
not enough, Hayden," she whispered. "Not at my age." With a final
flourish she finished, then snapped the case shut and picked up the
tube of pale pink lipstick. She expertly applied it, then blotted
her lips. "There," she said. "Mummy's almost ready. Just a bit more
mascara." She picked up the bottle and unscrewed the top, pulling
out the brush, then flicking at her eyelashes quickly. "Now," she
said. "All better." She flipped off the light, closing the bathroom
door behind her.

"Oh, Puff Puppy," she said. "There you are. I
almost tripped over you." She leaned down and stroked the Maltese,
then straightened back up. "Mummy must go next door. You be an
angel, and I'll give you something special when I get back." She
blew kisses in his direction.

Through the kitchen she hurried, then
stopping near the back door, she grabbed one of the big straw hats
on a coat rack there. She put it on, adjusted it just so, and
rushed on through the doorway, out the porch door, and through her
garden to the gate that led into Valerie's.

"Oh, darling, there you are," she exclaimed,
seeing Valerie and Elvis walking toward her. "Kiss, kiss, Elvis,"
she said, bending over to give him a pat on the head.

"Oh, Colette, I'm so glad you could come
over," Valerie said. "Do you have Hayden in there?"

"Yes, of course, I do, darling," Colette
replied. "But do let's hug. Only carefully."

They embraced, then Colette stood back and
looked up at Valerie. "I think we both needed a nice hug
today."

Valerie nodded. "It's been one of those
days."

"You must tell me all about it," Colette
said. "I've already talked to Eddie, of course, and cried my eyes
out. Poor, sweet Noah. It's such a tragedy."

They settled themselves on Valerie's
screened-in porch with iced tea, and Valerie told her about the
scene at Eddie's.

"What kind of monster would do such a thing?"
Colette asked worriedly after she'd heard the complete story.

"I don't know," Valerie replied, "but it
gives me the creeps."

"Me too, darling. I'm not letting Puff Puppy
out in the garden without me," Colette said. "And Hayden will be
with me at all times. I don't suppose it was anything, but I
thought I heard someone or something outside late last night. I
started to call you, then saw that your car was still gone, so I
didn't."

"You heard someone?" Valerie asked, looking
at her. "You're sure?"

Colette shook her head. "No, I'm not the
least bit sure," she said. "I didn't see a thing, so I guess it was
just an animal of some sort." She shrugged. "A raccoon trying to
get in the garbage or something like that probably, but never mind
that. I'm dying to hear what happened this morning at your
mother's." She paused and looked at Valerie conspiratorially. "And
last night at Stonelair, of course."