Innocent Little Crimes (4 page)

“What’s that?” she asked.

He quickly pocketed the envelope. “Nothing
you need to worry about.” He scanned her face. “Why are you giving
me that look?”

“I’m just worried about your blood
pressure.”

Dick sipped his drink and forced a smile.
“Thank you for caring. I’m fine.”

Millie walked over and put her hand on his
shoulder. “Hey, guess what? We got an invitation to a college
reunion. It’s been fifteen years. Can you believe it?”

“I thought we already got that thing and
threw it in the garbage. Who do you give a hoot about after all
those years? Who wants to stand around and drink and see how fat
and old everyone’s gotten?”

Dick noticed Millie wince at another
reference to her weight. He knew it irked her, but when was she
ever going to take her diet seriously?

“This is different.” Millie handed him
a white and gold envelope. “It’s a
private
invite. For the weekend before the
reunion. From Lila.”

He didn’t get it.

“Lila Carmichael. The Thespian Society?
Remember?”

Dick almost spilled his glass. “Let me
see that!” He pulled the card out and read it. He grinned. The very
famous,
very rich
, Lila
Carmichael. “Why didn’t I think of her before? This is at her
house—that mansion she keeps in the San Juans. I don’t believe
it.”

“Hon, why would she invite us to her home
after all these years? She didn’t even graduate with us. We never
stayed in touch. Maybe this is some kind of a joke.”

“What’s wrong with you? You two were best
friends in school. We all were. We helped launch her career in
Thespians. Now look at her. The richest, most successful woman in
show biz today. If it wasn’t for us, she’d have stayed a fat homely
nothing.”

Millie winced again. “I don’t think I want to
go.”

What
timing
.
What a perfect
opportunity to get out of town and let things cool off. And when I
tell them down at city hall. Lila Carmichael!

Dick took a good look at his weak, pathetic
wife. “Too bad, Mil. We’re going.”

Chapter 5

Sausalito, California

Davis Gregory stared out the window of his
spacious Sausalito office, watching boats sail in and out of the
marina. He was sure he had the best view around; he could even see
Coit Tower and the Bay Bridge over in the city. It was a sunny,
crisp day—unusually warm for January—but, hey, that was the way his
luck went. He and Cynthia had been hoping the weather would clear
for their engagement party at the country club that evening. All
the important people in Marin County would be there, giving him
more opportunities to pitch more projects. Although Cynthia would
kill him if he brought up business. Well, he would just have to be
discreet, wouldn’t he?

He turned at the sound of Roger McFarland’s
voice. His foreman peeked into the office.

“Hey, Davis, what’s the word on the Ignacio
mall? Is it a go or not? What do I do about the delivery
schedule?”

“Come in, Rog.” Davis opened a mahogany
cupboard and poured two shots of whiskey. He handed one to his
friend. “Rog, do you believe I’m finally getting married?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He pulled
off his cap and downed his drink. “Good stuff. Thanks boss. So,
where are we?”

“I just got off the phone with the agent.
Escrow finally closed.” Davis sighed. “I really sweated this one
out.”

“It’d be a shame to have to quit after
putting in all those sewers, gutters, the works.”

“Tell me about it.”

Roger lowered his voice and slid a black
leather chair closer to Davis. “So how’d you pull it off—between
you and me. I warned you about jumping the gun—slipping the guys at
public works a few bills.”

“Aw, come on, everybody does it. You know
that.” He ran a hand through his hair and realized it needed
cutting. “That wasn’t the problem. How was I supposed to know my
principal investor was going to skip town with his company payroll?
I had to stall until I could round up some new investors; I
couldn’t let the job go idle.”

“So who did you end up signing with?”

“Here’s the surprise—a corporation out of Los
Angeles. No one I ever heard of. But, they’re big. And they just
called out of the blue.”

“You’re one lucky dog.”

“Yea, well, don’t let any of this reach
Cynthia’s ears. She doesn’t understand what a slippery business
real estate is. She didn’t grow up like I did, watching the way my
father wheeled and dealed.”
And turned
dreams into floodgates of money
.

Roger narrowed his eyes. “He taught you
well.”

Davis laughed. “Yeah, and I fought him
the whole way.” He put his feet up on his cherrywood desk and
leaned back.
And sometimes I wish I had
fought him harder
.

Fifteen years—pouring over blueprints, filing
permits, building one useless shopping center after another. What
kind of legacy was that? Sure, he had plenty of cash and all the
toys to go with it, but how many dressy parties can you stand, with
all that meaningless chit-chat of high society? Boring, boring.
Gone were the days of reckless impulses, drunken binges, and
spontaneous vacations. What was so thrilling about closing a real
estate deal?

Being on a dark stage, under bright
lights with an enthralled audience soaking in your every word, your
every move—now
that
was a
thrill. So what if it was just a college crowd in a dumpy theatre?
Acting on stage had been more exhilarating than anything he
experienced in his “exciting” world of construction.

Davis let out a long breath. He always tried
to keep up a cheerful appearance at these social gatherings—for
Cynthia’s sake—knowing how much she needed to mingle and make
friends. He knew he shouldn’t complain; he wanted Cyn to be happy,
more than anything else. But, well, it bothered him,
nevertheless.

He brought his attention around to Rog.
“You
are
coming to the party
tonight?”

Roger stood. “Hey, thanks for reminding me. I
better get home and shower. It’ll take me awhile to dig up some
appropriate clothes.”

“Eight o’clock sharp.”

Roger threw an arm around Davis’s shoulder.
“Oh, I’ll be there—can’t turn down free food, free booze, beautiful
women . . .”

After Roger left, Davis called in his
secretary. He chastised himself for his melancholy. Surely, he had
a lot to be happy about. Not only was he about to marry the woman
of his dreams, but she was unbelievably rich—richer by far than his
family—and classy, too. She practically worshipped him. How bad was
that?

Helen came into his office and handed him his
mail.

“Helen, would you be a darling and call the
cleaners to see if my suit’s ready?” He flashed her a smile and she
blushed. Davis knew she had it big for him. But what the hell, most
women did. And what did a smile buy him? Undying loyalty.

“Excited about tonight?” she asked.

“Nervous as all hell. I better get
going.”

The phone rang in the outer office. Davis
answered it at his desk. “Mount Tam Realty, Davis Gregory.”

“Darling—you’re answering the phone now? What
did you do, fire Helen?”

Davis laughed. “Where are you?” He winked at
Helen as she waited at the door. Another blush.

“Downstairs.”

“Oh, I guess I’m out of here. Close up for
me, Helen, would you?”

He grabbed his coat and the mail and went
down the elevator. A black limousine waited at the curb, and
standing beside the open door next to a well-dressed chauffeur was
his petite and attractive bride-to-be. A stunning pale blue evening
gown clung to her curves, and her ash brown hair was swept up in a
bun, adorned with pearls.

“What are you staring at?” Cynthia chuckled.
“Get in.”

Davis gathered her in his arms and kissed her
as they stood on the sidewalk. Pulling back, he touched her face.
So young, almost a child. Her skin was a soft pink, without a
blemish. She never needed to wear makeup. Helen teased them about
being the classic California couple, complete with their matching
tans and blond hair. The truth was, Davis felt like a teenager
himself—a perpetual teenager when around Cynthia.

“You have got to be the most beautiful woman
on the face of the earth.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls you’re
about to marry.”

“You’re the only one, darling. But it’s not
like you had to twist my arm to say it. The way you look, no one
will ever think I’m marrying you for your money.”

Cynthia slugged his arm. “Wise guy. The way I
look at it, I’ve snagged Marin County’s most wanted bachelor. Get
in. Let’s celebrate.”

She slid into the cool interior of the limo.
“I picked up your suit. You can dress in here.” She pulled him into
the back seat and reached over to close the door. His black tux
hung on the side hook.

Cynthia started unbuttoning his shirt with
her long, manicured nails. “Don’t worry about the driver. He’s
being paid to ignore us.” She giggled.

The driver eased the car into traffic. Davis
shed his jacket as Cynthia opened up the bar and reached for a
bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses.

“Take a look at this,” he said, pulling a
white and gold envelope out of his pocket. “It came today.”

Cynthia set the champagne glasses on the
drop-down tray. Davis handed her the envelope.

“What is it? Looks like an invitation.”

“Now, isn’t this a kick? I’m invited to a
private college reunion at Lila Carmichael’s.”

“The
Lila
Carmichael?”

“Remember,” Davis said, sipping the champagne
as the limo merged into freeway traffic, “I told you I went to
school with Hollywood’s hottest star. You should have seen her back
then: shy and self-conscious, a total nerd. Talented, but nothing
like she is now. I actually played her leading man in my senior
year.”

“Hon, you’re not thinking of going, are you?
I mean . . . she’s so vulgar.” As Davis pulled off his shirt,
Cynthia picked up her glass and took a small sip. “I can’t even
watch her show. Can’t we just stay home that weekend?”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. You can meet the
gang I went to school with, and we can see her spread up in the San
Juans.”

Cynthia frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, loosen up. You know, Lila used to
be poor and disadvantaged—just like the people you help with your
charities. You mingle with
them
; what’s the difference? She’s just gotten
lucky and made a few million dollars.”

“I don’t mingle with those people. I watch
them walk the streets from the comfort of my chauffeured car. I sit
in my upscale office in Terra Linda and decide who gets to eat
today, who gets shoes for their feet.” She sighed.

“Cyn, we’ve been through this before. You’re
doing good work. But, you’re not going to eliminate poverty and
hunger in one fell swoop. And there’s nothing wrong with distancing
yourself from the masses. You’re a cut above.”

“And Lila?”

“She’s, well, she’s in her own class. But,
she’s harmless, believe me.”

Davis caressed her hair. “Listen, I’ve got
this big deal sewn up. We have some time before the wedding. We can
go up to Vancouver and see the sights. Besides, maybe I can
interest Lila in investing in the mall project.”

Cynthia jerked back in mock anger. “Davis,
you’re impossible. Always some deal on the horizon. Another
opportunity knocking. Can’t we just have some uncluttered, romantic
fun?”

“That too.” He held up his glass. “I love
you, Cyn. A toast.”

Cynthia lifted her glass to his and gave
Davis a smile. He gently kissed her lips and pulled back, taking
her in. “To us.”

“To us.” Cynthia clinked her glass against
his. “Forever and always.”

Chapter 6

Friday, March 6

Seattle, Washington

“Damn!” Lila muttered under her breath,
clutching the sleeve of Peter’s London Fog trench coat. “How do
these vultures know every time? I can’t piss without a crowd
trailing behind me.” She tiptoed down the plane’s steep steps,
clutching her flowing skirts, Peter leading the way.

Swollen, gray clouds hovered over the
flooded tarmac. At the chain-link fence, a mob of people screamed
and cheered, many waving blow-ups of Lila and banners with her name
written in bright colors. Lila pasted on a smile as she pressed
through the crowd, pulling away from grabbing hands and prying
fingers. Sea-Tac Airport security worked the waves of people back
as they whisked Lila whisked inside the terminal and deposited her
at the private executive lounge. With the door locked behind her,
she fell back onto a plush couch and splayed her legs open. Four
gray-suited Japanese businessmen stared at her, then grabbed their
cameras and started clicking away.
VIP
lounges promised good manners and privacy, dammit!
She
turned her back on them. Outside, the chanting voices
subsided.

A uniformed hostess hurried over to Lila and
Peter. “Ms. Carmichael, such a pleasure to meet you. May I get you
something?”

Lila glued her smile back on. “A drink would
be appreciated. Screwdriver with Absolut.”

Peter placed his hand over hers. “Lila,
sweetie. It’s only nine a.m. A bit early, don’t you think?”

“Make that a double.” She whipped her hand
out from under his touch. The hostess moved efficiently toward the
bar area. “And see if the limo’s here,” she yelled after her.