CoverBoys & Curses (13 page)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Skeletons

CARLY
CALLED TO SUGGEST a cocktail hour. I finally concurred. Per usual, Sterling ran
late.

We sat
at a window table at the crowded restaurant, Insolence, where sandwiches were
pricey and the caviar—the priciest in town. A show-me-the-money kind of pick-up
place. The waiter summed us up. He might as well have said what was on his mind.
Show me your bank account register before you order.

I guess
we passed his scrutiny although it crossed my mind Sterling would have helped
if she had arrived on time and oozing in her
bibelots du jour.
We ordered two
Stolis
.

“I’m
still in awe of your design work at my beach house,” I told Carly.

“I’m
glad.” Her words—laconic.

“No,
really! You’re an incredible talent.”

She
scowled and pretended to look at the menu.

“What’s
wrong?” I asked.

“For
starters, I’m bored to tears.”

“How can
you be bored? You’re booked out six months in advance.”

“I truly
enjoyed doing your house, Lauren, but most of my projects suck.”

“Not fun
anymore?”

“Anymore?
My entire career has been about prying painters off the ceiling because they
show up to work high on god knows what. I have to deal with damaged or late
shipments. Do you know last month I finally had time to sit down and read the
morning newspaper with a cup of coffee? The words popped off the front page of
the business section. A barge sunk in the middle of the fucking Atlantic. And
guess whose furniture was on it? My biggest and most loud-mouthed client. And
take one guess as to whose fault it was?
Mine
.”

“Not as
glamorous a business world as it sounds, huh?”

She
rolled her eyes and said, “If I have to place one more Barcelona chair on a
slab of white travertine in a house that looks like an abandoned igloo I’m
going to puke.”

Her eyes
diverted to some place far away. I knew the look.

“You
already have a plan, don’t you?”

Carly
giggled. She never giggles but with a mischievous and feisty guttural resonance
from deep within her larynx. “It’s going to take some time, Laurs, but I want
to open an antique store. A big antique store.

“I’m
going to have the best of the best in furniture, art and collectibles, even
architectural obscurities. Hell, I may even throw in some old cars.”

“Wow.
You’ve thought this through. So what’s stopping you?”

“Capital.
And before you ask, I’m not looking for investors or loans. It’s going to be
all mine or nothing.”

I didn’t
have to ask. Carly was the most stoic and proud woman I knew. She would never
accept monetary help. Never.

“What
about the equity in the Bel Air home?”

“Not
available.” Her answer was curt. Off limits to further discussion.

A
glistening light walked toward our table.
Sterling
.
We hadn’t been together, the three of us, since our failed and dismal trip to
Tucson.

“Sorry
I’m late,” Sterling’s voice roared above the noisy gathering spot. “I had a
massage at Calm and got stuck with some Russian masseuse. She was belching up
more vodka than they have lined up on the shelves in this place.”

Sterling
got the attention of the waiter along with every patron in the place, and
ordered a drink.

“First
time we’ve been together since we did it!” Sterling said. She lifted her lanky but
curved leg up to the table and showed off the friendship tattoo. We all succumbed
to the impulse of staining on our ankles.

“And I can’t
stay long. I have a date with a hunk.”

“A name
we should know?” Carly asked.

“Yeah.
Hunk!”

“A
professional athlete?” I asked.

“I have
no idea. It’s a blind date. Why?”

“They
seem to be your type,” I said, probably laced with sarcasm.

“If they
have money, an Adonis body and a penis they’re my type.” She quickly added,
“Hair is a bonus. I like hair.”

“But in
the right places,” Carly added.

Sterling
scowled at us mockingly. “Don’t be snippy. I have some information you’ll want
to hear.”

“You’re
engaged to the Prince of Sheba”, Carly said.

“I’m not
even sure there is a place called Sheba but in a tin of cat food. But I am sure
about something more important. Skeletons.”

“Skeletons?”
Carly asked.

I didn’t
need to ask. I knew immediately it was news about Payton’s email to me. Three
skeletons.

“Turns
out they call the innards of a dead saguaro skeletons. They’re ribs. Big thick
rib-like wood.”

Carly
sat speechless.

I
fumbled with the words, “You fake a dumb blonde real good, Sterling. How did
you find out?”

“Crazy.
Something called Google,” she smirked. “Believe it or not I even know how to
turn on a computer.”

“When we
were there we looked for three tall and very much alive saguaro. Or anything else
we saw in threes. But we weren’t really looking at the ground. Not for any
fallen cacti. So who’s on board to go back to Tucson?” I asked.

“Sure,”
Carly said. “I have nothing better to do than go looking around for three dead
cacti in acres of desert.”

Chapter
Forty

Like
Duct Tape

I
RETURNED TO MY BEACH house. Exhausted but fulfilled. Winning. What I was
winning, I hadn’t a clue.

Something
about the beach always made me feel centered no matter how much frustration I
felt toward the world. I guess that’s the way most people feel. And why beachfront
property is about a million dollars for every lineal foot of ocean frontage.

Mostly
when I was feeling too confident, when I thought I was on top of this world, I
would return to the beach to have it temper my ego with its omnipotence. The
sun had been replaced by a brilliant glow of moonlight and this night it
offered me a boost. I felt significant and alive. And very humble.

A
wrapped gift package sat by my front door. Usually I would have pulled into the
garage but instead I parked on the driveway, grabbed my mail, the iridescent package
and my keys, shoving the gold one into the lock that would permit me into the
sanctuary I so badly needed.

The
package screamed of Queen Geoff. Rainbow colored ribbons smothered the neon
wrapping paper. I laughed. Out loud. What could Geoff have possibly dropped off
as a house warming gift, I wondered. Whatever it was, it would fit into the
category of the outrageous.

I
struggled with my key to fit it into the lock. It wasn’t working. I jammed. I
twisted. I stuffed it in further, then pulled it out just barely to try and
turn the chambers in the lock.

Nothing.

I’d have
to pull my car into the garage and enter my house through that door. I heard
nothing, my focus so intent on the lock that would not turn.

The
black glove slammed across my mouth. Leather. I could smell the leather. My attacker
reined me in taut against his body. As my legs buckled with the limpness of a
jellyfish, he pulled me up tighter by grabbing onto my hair and yanking my head
back closer into his chest. He held me flush against his body. More black
leather. That is all I could see, or smell, or feel. My vision spun in circles
like a kaleidoscope with broken stained glass. No focus. Just the colors of the
rainbow streaming from the pretty gift-wrapped package amid all the blackness.

The
monster’s other hand barely allowed for my breath. Apparently the only true
sense I had left was that of hearing.

“You
have no business in Tucson, Bitch. That ship has sailed. You need to disappear
off the radar map or let us make that happen for you. You understand?”

I nodded
my face up and down under the steel leather-cloaked hands that still bound my
mouth like duct tape.

“I’ll be
leaving a friend to watch out after you. You do as I say and you’ll have no
problems with any jugular bites.”

Chapter Forty-One

Wolf
Dog

THE
MONSTER DREW BACK in one swift movement. The weight of my body fell free from
his massive arms which caused my knees to buckle and drop to the hard flooring
of my front porch. My keys clanked as they scattered across the terrazzo tiles.
Out of reach and I didn’t care.

His car
sped away, so dark and in so much fog I couldn’t make out anything but
blackness.

His
sentry showed up in the same thicket of mist. My intruder had promised me bites
to my jugular if I were not to behave myself. The wolf-like creature, black and
with demonic red glowing eyes, snarled at me from my porch steps.

Too weak
to stand or try and square off with the animal, I managed to pretzel myself
into a ball against the door, hiding my face between trembling legs. I had no
false sense of security. This was a real threat. This was when I had to face my
demons. Unfortunately, my head was lodged between my knees and I didn’t think
it would come out any time too soon.

Then I
saw it. Lodged between my legs was my cell phone. Slowly I reached for it and
dialed 911.

Help was
on the way. How long? It would be too long, I was certain. I lifted my head and
focused on the glint of light. The sliver of the waxing moon’s light streamed
from the brass umbrella stand Carly had appointed to my front door. I dared to
reach out for the object. Being only seven or eight inches away it might as
well have been a fathom and the seas between us ran red with blood. I managed
to grab the stand by its rim and pull it slowly toward me.

The
wolf-dog, for I still cannot believe it was a mere dog, howled with the rage of
evil chromosomes. Its fangs, too, glowed in the slight moonlight.

Weighty,
I struggled to pull the brass stand near me. I clutched it between my legs,
secured my grip on it and heaved it toward the creature, smacking it on its
nose. I swear I heard some of those fangs crack. It whimpered and retreated,
but I could feel its eyes still fixated on me.

Backing
up, I neared the side of my garage and the key pad. Fingers shaking, I pushed
in the five digit code to raise the garage door. The creaking noise did little
to disarm the creature. His stare grew fiercer. Glistening bloody drool fell
from the sides of his mouth to the ground.

There
was nothing between us except a garden hose, and his fierce stare told me even
a fire hose wouldn’t deter his desire for a fresh kill. Instincts told me that
I couldn’t outrun him. Still, I lifted my feet out of the high heels. I’d stand
a better chance barefoot and the spikes on those shoes just became my only
weapons of self defense. I threw one at him. It bounced off his front leg and
caused the broad body to flinch.

I
glanced around in the garage and spied the bag of golf clubs. I hoped if only I
had time to unzip the travel bag I could possibly defend myself with the steel
rods.

The
animal strode forward. Taking his time. Making me squirm with fear. Stalking
me.

I backed
up further into the garage and with two more short steps I managed to drag the
golf bag in front of me as if it would be a buffer from harm.
 
The animal moved five more steps closer. He
sounded a predatory call, half bark and half howl, and he was now no more than
five feet from me. I had another twelve feet behind me to reach the safety of
the door.

Thank
god I was sloppy when it came to security. I knew that door would be unlocked.

I pulled
from memory anything and everything Brock had taught me about pitching
baseballs, then hurled the second shoe at the wolf-dog with perfect aim. It
smacked him square in the eyes. I knew I had only seconds to unzip the golf bag
and pull out the steely weapons.

I had only
a split second. The wolf-dog whimpered, shook off the pain like a sheet of warm
water, and lunged at me.

Having
freed the clubs, I grabbed all that my hands could hold and slung the rods at
the animal, then I ran for the door and my very life.

The door
slammed shut as the wolf-dog’s nose poked through. I thrust my weight against
it and recovered my phone.
 
I called
Carly. No answer. I called Sterling. Then I called Detective Wray.
  

It was
Sterling that arrived first, even before the police and with twice the miles to
travel. And the wolf-dog was nowhere in sight.

While
waiting for any authorities Sterling opened the package as I watched. The box
fell apart with absolutely nothing inside it except for black tissue paper.

Sirens
neared. Sterling rocked me in her arms and we spoke no words.

Chapter Forty-Two

Oh,
and By The Way

MY
VOICE MUST HAVE sounded like mud to Detective Wray. The Malibu police had all
but shouted out their joy when the detective showed up and told them he’d take
care of the situation, meaning me. There was no fight over jurisdictions like
you see on TV. They sped away.
 
          
“I
guess there were a few things I didn’t tell you the other night, Detective. I just
didn’t think they mattered at the time.”

“I guess
there are a few things I didn’t tell you the other night, either, Ms. Visconti.
Because they hadn’t happened.”

“You
have something to tell me?”

“And
always a pleasure to let the lady go first. Maybe you can start with what
occurred here tonight.”

I
recounted what little I knew. The shiny package. The black glove snatching at
my face. The hushed, gravelly voice that delivered the warning. The wolf-dog.

“What
was in the package?” he asked.

“Nothing.
I knew it was lightweight. I remember thinking maybe it was a scarf or
something. Sterling opened it. Nothing.”

“Figures.
A distraction.”

“What?”

“You
were focused on the gift. Gave the perp opportunity to catch you off guard.”

The
detective asked me to describe the scene. Any sights. Sounds. Smells. I didn’t
see anything but the wrapped gift and the black glove. I’d already told him the
voice was but a graveled whisper. And the only smell was from the leather
glove.

He asked
me to relay the man’s words. The meat of the threat. The warning to stay away
from Tucson. I told him about Payton and her suicide that wasn’t a suicide. It
couldn’t
be a suicide. “That’s what you
need to know! That’s what I should have told you!” I screamed.

The
dismissal that registered in his eyes scared me even more.

“Did he
have a weapon?”

“His
hands were his weapon. That was good enough for me.”

“And the
dog. Did you see where it headed off?”

“It was
no dog, Detective. It was a wolf. Or something,” my voiced trailed and even to
me sounded like an old LP on too slow a speed.

“But
your attacker threatened you with this animal, right?”

“The
creature arrived after the man left. Maybe moments. Maybe minutes. I don’t
know. It scared the shit out of me, but not for long. I have a way with animals.
We’ll be sipping champagne from our water bowls together next week.”

“Yeah. I
can tell that by the dent in that umbrella stand and the spilt blood. You’ll be
good friends.

“Your
situation at the house tonight is grave, Ms. Visconti. Your ability to make
light of it is actually a clever skill, as long as you keep your wits about
you.

“I
suppose most of my superiors would expect me to tell you that right at this moment
you’re in big trouble. Some of the guys back at the precinct are probably
taking pools to see if I bring you in.”

The
detective paused. Closed his notebook. Stared back into my eyes. “How long have
you been in L.A.?”

“You can
count my months here by the
CoverBoy
issues we’ve run, subtracting two months of test and preview issues. From there
you can do all the adding and subtracting you want. The truth is I’ve been here
long enough to call it home. And long enough to want to leave.”

“Okay.
Two issues prior to your arrival in California. Those issues originated in
Illinois. Is that correct?”

“Yes. I
owned a publishing company there. A travel magazine. It made sense to use my
resources in Chicago to launch
CoverBoy
.
A test period, if you will. Given the economic times I found this to be a prudent
means of exploration. And one that proved successful.” I couldn’t believe I
could actually speak with so matter-of-factly.

“And did
you have any negative ramifications from those two issues?”

I bit my
tongue and saw my world twirling. Then I unleashed that tongue. “You mean, was
anybody I profiled in those early articles slaughtered?”

Wray
didn’t play his hand. “More or less.”

“No.”

“And
what were those early articles?”

“I’m
certain you’ve already pulled them up in our archives. One on drug lords. Stale,
but we had some new information and a new angle. And my timing was off on the
second issue because everyone had already ripped apart certain corrupt Chicago
government officials.”

“You get
a lot of hate mail. You’ve already told me that. Anything else? Any lawsuits?”

“We keep
our legal department plenty busy. But I’ve been assured it isn’t libel if it’s
the truth. For the record we win our cases, Detective.”

“Clever
girl. I wonder about that,” he said.