Fat Tuesday (47 page)

Basile! He must be alerted that their strategy had backfired. But before she could even place a telephone call, she must get out of this room. She pitched herself into finding a way.

Her mother's john had taught her how to pick most standard locks.

But technology in door locks had advanced along with everything else, and Pinkie insisted on having state-of-the-art everything. When the house was renovated a few years earlier, the master bedroom had been made into a safe room, a place to take refuge should intruders penetrate the other security system. On the outside doorjamb was a numerical keypad. One had to know the sequence of numbers in order to unlock it. A key would dismantle it from the inside, but Remy's exhaustive search of the suite, including Pinkie's dressing room, didn't produce it. In desperation she tried manicure scissors, a nail file, a hairpin, but, as she suspected, the lock was too sophisticated for an amateur with makeshift tools.

She considered the windows next. Drawing open the drapes and shutters, she was dismayed to see that the exterior shutters had been closed.

Only once before, when there had been warnings of an approaching tropical storm, had they been closed. But now they'd been battened down.

Daylight was struggling to leak through.

Not that it mattered. The locks on the windows were ordinary, but the alarm system wasn't. Lven if she unlocked a window and opened it, the security alarm would beep intermittently to alert the staff of an interruption in the circuit. Someone would report it to Pinkie.

Dismissing the windows as a means of escape, she paced the rooms, racking her brain for another possible outlet.

Through the air-conditioning ducts? She removed the grill over an air-intake vent. Too small.

Up through the fireplace chimney? Hardly.

She couldn't walk through walls or seep beneath doorways like smoke.

Smoke!

The house was equipped not only with an anti-intrusion security system, but also with smoke and heat sensors, which were linked to the alarm company's monitoring service as well as to the local fire department.

Once an alarm went off, fire trucks were dispatched. It was an irrevocable signal, none were considered false alarms. Under no circumstances could the fire trucks be recalled until every sensor in the house was checked by an official.

There was a smoke detector above the door leading into her dressing area. She removed the drawers from the night table, set the lamp on the floor, and dragged the piece of furniture into position.

She lit a scented candle, kicked off her shoes, and scrambled onto the nightstand. Stretching her arm up, she managed to bring the flame to within inches of the detector.

"It won't work, Remy."

Startled, she dropped the lighted candle, which immediately singed a hole in the carpet. Pinkie crossed the floor and stamped out the candle, then looked up at her with censure and amusement.

"You look rather silly, Remy, but I must say I'm impressed by your ingenuity. You've exhibited more sagacity in the last half hour than in all the years I've known you."

In a courtly manner, he extended her his hand to help her down.

When she disdainfully ignored it and climbed down from the nightstand on her own, he chuckled."I wouldn't have overlooked something as elementary as the smoke and fire alarms, my dear, although I confess to being pleasantly surprised that you were clever enough to think of them yourself."

"I've always been smarter than you gave me credit for, Pinkie."

"You were smart enough to conceal a pregnancy and miscarriage from me, I'll concede that. Surprised, Remy? Dr. Caruth was more than willing to confide everything when I presented her with some rather compromising snapshots of her and her lover, who, coincidentally, is her nurse.

Her female nurse.

"While I'm tolerant of the sexual preferences of others," he continued mildly, "I think it's safe to assume that the society mavens who smugly tout Dr. Caruth over any of her male colleagues would be aghast to learn about her private life. Even if they suspect such they would rather their suspicions not be confirmed, which would, of course, necessitate their boycotting her.

"Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, your IQ. Intelligence is wasted on women like you, Remy. I'd venture to say that even Basile agrees. I seriously doubt that he engaged you in stimulating conversation before he fucked you. And he did fuck you, didn't he?"

"He made love to me," she said defiantly."For the first time in my life, I made love with a man."

He backhanded her across the face, her cheekbone catching most of the thrust. She reeled from the impact and the blinding pain. Her knees buckled. She went down.

"You're a cunt, Remy. That's all you ever were, and that's all you'll ever be because that's what spawned you. You may have romanticized the time you spent alone with Basile, cozy in your little cabin, just the two of you in the wilderness. But don't delude yourself. Basile is a man, and all men recognize you exactly for what you are. He fucked you, but only to insult me. Now, where is he?"

"I don't know." He kicked her in the kidney. She almost fainted from the pain, but she clung to consciousness and staved off the waves of nausea "Where is he?"

"He dropped me off at Dredd's. Then he left."

"By boat or car?"

"Boat." Her tears were genuine as she recalled those last few moments they'd been together, both wishing there were another way out of their dilemma."I didn't want to be left behind, but " Pinkie's snicker interrupted her."Just as I told you, Remy.

Basile had got what he wanted from you, while you, poor dear, wound up with a broken heart."

She glared up at him."You can't keep me locked in this room indefinitely, Pinkie. Sooner or later, some way or another, I'll get out."

"Remy, by the time this night is over, you won't care whether or not you leave this room. You'll be totally indifferent to what happens to you."

"What do you intend to do, keep hitting me until I'd just as soon die as go on living?" She raised her head to a proud angle."You can try, Pinkie. But you'll be surprised by how resilient I've become. You no longer have the power to hurt me. I'm not what you say I am. I know that now. Your insults are wasted on me. I'm immune to them."

"Love has made you strong?" he taunted.

"That's right."

"Really? Brave talk, Remy. But let's see how courageous you are after something that you value is tainted by someone whom you detest."

Remy's chest seemed to crack around the sob that rose out of it.

"Don't touch her."

"Ah, so you've guessed. Sweet Flarra." He kissed his fingertips.

"So ripe, so eager to experience life."

Remy gripped the edge of the nightstand and pulled herself to her feet, then she lunged at him, her fingers going for his eyes. He knocked her away, slinging her down onto the bed.

"The girl is practically bursting with vitality, isn't she?" he said pleasantly, as though they were discussing the merits of a race horse.

"She blatantly declares her sexuality. It crackles around her like electricity. She's got more potential for pleasing a man than even you, Remy. How exciting it'll be for the man who takes her for the first time."

Remy slid off the bed. On her knees, she walked toward him and threw her arms around his thighs, begging him hoarsely, "Please, Pinkie, don't hurt her. I beg you. I'll do anything you say. Anything."

She clutched him tighter, using his clothing for handholds as she climbed him, pulling herself to her feet. Then she kissed him and caressed him through his trousers."Do anything with me, but don't harm her."

He avoided her kisses and pushed her hands away."Stop it Remy."

"Please, Pinkie," she sobbed."Please, don't touch her."

"I don't intend to, darling. Are you under the misconception that I'll replace you in my bed with Flarra? Not at all." He reached out and stroked her cheek."I've given her as a present. To Bardo."

For several seconds after he left, relocking the door from the outside, Remy stood as though nailed to the floor, swaying slightly from his last verbal blow. Bardo. With Flarra.

She crossed her arms over her stomach, and bent forward She stifled a keening sound by biting her lower lip. Then she whispered an earnest prayer of thanksgiving to God for giving her one last chance to save the situation.

Uncurling her fingers, she stared at the key lying in her palm the key she'd picked from Pinkie's pocket while pretending to beg his mercy.

"I don't get it. Why aren't I going straight to Remy's house?"

The girl's naivete was as much a turn-on as mental visions of her out of the school uniform. Seductive, sweet-smelling Flarra was going to be the best time he'd had in a long while. It was all he could do to keep from licking his chops in anticipation of things to come.

"The house is in an uproar," Bardo said by way of explanation.

"They're decorating for the party. Workers so thick you can't stir them with a stick. So your sister asked me to bring you here, where you can get dressed in peace and quiet."

"That seems an odd thing for Remy to do, especially when it's been more than a week since I've seen her. Maybe I should call her."

Bardo sensed her wariness as he led her down the breezeway of the motel toward the room in which he was already registered. He'd thought about reserving a room in a swank hotel but changed his mind. Why waste the money on amenities like room service and scented soap when the outcome of this afternoon was a foregone conclusion?

Besides, if Flarra created a ruckus, it was more likely to be ignored in a place where, with no questions asked, you could sign in as Mickey Mouse so long as you paid cash in advance.

Hoping to allay her apprehension at least until he got her inside the room, he sighed."I wasn't supposed to tell you, but you leave me no choice."

"Tell me what?"

"They're planning a big surprise for you. Something real special.

"That's why they told me to keep you away from the house till they're ready."

"Really?" she squealed, flashing him a thousand-watt smile "What could it be, I wonder."

"I know, but I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Give me a hint. Please, Mr. Bardo?"

"Nothing doing. Both the boss and Mrs. Duvall would skin me alive if I gave away their surprise. I've told you too much already. You've got to promise to act surprised."

"I promise."

He unlocked the door of the room and ushered her inside. The box containing her costume was tucked under his arm. Leave it to Pinkie not to overlook a single detail. As soon as they got to the car, Flarra had lifted the top of the box and taken a peek inside, but had refrained from tearing off the lid and plowing through the tissue paper. When he asked what she was waiting for, she had told him she wanted to savor the anticipation.

But as soon as they were inside the room, she grabbed the box and set it on the bed."I can't wait any longer!" She tossed the lid aside and separated the folds of pastel tissue, then a long, rapturous "ahhhh" escaped her as she gazed down at the shimmery, sheer fabric studded with sparkling stones and colored crystals. She even folded her hands beneath her chin like a little girl saying grace at suppertime.

"It's almost too beautiful to touch. What is it?"

"Take it out and see."

She lifted the two garments from the box as though handling holy relics, although there was certainly nothing sacred about the costume.

The brassiere was two stone-studded, glittering cones held together by flesh-colored strings. The bottom half was a pair of harem pants with a similarly jeweled bikini. The legs were sheer and banded at the ankles with rows of stones. Also in the box were a pillbox hat with veil attached, and a pair of gold leather slippers with bells on the toes.

Her reaction was a wide-eyed mix of delight and dubiety."Are you sure this is for me? Maybe you picked up the wrong box."

"Don't you like it?"

"Oh, yes. Very much. It's gorgeous," she said in a gush of breath.

"It's just sort of skimpy."

"You think so? Why don't you try it on? Then if you don't like it, you'll have time to exchange it for something else." He looked her up and down critically, drawing his brows into a steep frown.

"You know, you may be right. It does seem a little too risque for a girl your age."

The reverse psychology worked like bra-ca-fucking-dabra. Nose in the air, she snatched up the costume and headed for the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her and locking it. Bardo chuckled. Women were so damned predictable, was it any wonder men had to invent new ways to amuse themselves with them. Old, young, beautiful, ugly, skinny, fat, white, black, or any other color, what woman, having been insulted, even mildly, wouldn't want to prove him wrong? Now Flarra couldn't wait to show him how mature and sophisticated and daring she was.

He drew the drapes on the window and checked to see that the door was latched and the chain lock secure. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed to wait and to savor his own anticipation.

But when she didn't reappear after a full ten minutes, his patience began to wear thin."Flarra? Need any help? Is everything all right?"

"No. I mean, no I don't need any help. And, yes, everything's all right. I guess."

"Doesn't it fit?"

"Hmm."

"Well, let's see it."

After a few moments' hesitation, the bathroom door opened. Bardo's gut clenched with expectancy, but even a connoisseur of women like him wasn't prepared for the living fantasy that stepped across the threshold in slippers that jingled when she moved. The veil covering her nose and mouth only emphasized the charming modesty with which she gazed back at him. Her breasts were barely contained within the small cups of the bra.

"I don't think my sister realized how brief it is," she said, selfconsciously moving her hand down her exposed belly. One less sequin and he could have seen pubic hair." Do you think it's okay?"

"Oh, yeah." It seemed his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"I think you look great."