Matchpoint (23 page)

“Isn’t that your friend? The drunk one?” I heard Tim ask. “She’s lying in the street.”

“What on earth?” Belinda said when she got a good look at me. They helped me up, and I clutched Tim’s shoulder while the world stopped spinning. I was not much for holding my liquor. I promised myself never to drink Ruth’s private stock again. I could feel my brain cells dying from fumes.

Tim and Belinda weren’t alone. Nathan Smith, the Bliss Dental dental assistant, was with them. He was dressed in khaki Dockers and a striped shirt. He still wore a bandage on his head, but he looked reasonably healthy. He smiled at me, and again, I thought he looked awfully familiar.

“You remember Nathan, right, Gladie?” Belinda asked.

“Sure. Sure,” I said. “I guess the whole gang is here.”

“I hear it’s going to be a really entertaining night,” Nathan said. “I thought I could use the distraction. And besides, there’s a barbecue after.”

We walked with the crowd, which was a mixture of cultists and Cannes townspeople. It was like whatever crazy events we’d been having were all coming to a head tonight, and everyone wanted to witness it.

Hundreds of folding chairs were lined up facing a stage by the lake. Half the seats were already taken, and some people were sitting on their own chairs or blankets, making a picnic of it nearby.

Representatives of the varying factions of the cult handed out fliers with different alien themes on them. I scanned the chairs for Holly but came up empty. It was almost impossible to find anyone in the thick crowd.

But I seemed to stand out like a sore thumb, because before I could say goodbye to Belinda, Tim, and Nathan, Mr. Steve and Holden found me.

Mr. Steve seemed delighted to see me, but Holden was expressionless. Even in my intoxicated state, I could feel the disappointment coming from him in waves.

“Lovely. Lovely,” Mr. Steve said. He hugged me tightly to him, pressing my body up against his. I pulled away and staggered back. “I’m so glad you decided to join our little gathering,” he said. “But no shoes? Pity.”

I opened my mouth and hiccupped loudly.

“Mr. Holden didn’t tell me you were coming. Naughty Holden.”

The entire group squirmed. Mr. Steve had that effect on people. I couldn’t understand how he wound up being the spiritual leader of so many followers.

“I’m not here for long,” I explained more to Holden than to Mr. Steve. “I’m here to talk to someone, and then I’m off. I’m a little tipsy,” I said to Holden in a stage whisper. “Which way did she go?” I looked around with
my hands wrapped around my eyes like binoculars. “Holy crap!”

Coming my way was Rosalie, still dressed to the nines. I couldn’t make out any cutlery in her hands, but I didn’t want to stick around to find out. How she found me in the crowd was beyond me. I quickly said goodbye and trotted away, hiding in the crowd.

I ran blindly, not daring to look to see if Rosalie was following. That’s how I ran into the chairs, taking a tumble and bringing a couple chairs down on top of me.

“What the hell?” Holly spat at me, helping me up from the chairs. I had narrowly missed her and had almost literally fallen into her lap.

“Oh, Holly, thank goodness I found you,” I said. “I’m so glad you don’t like to cook.”

“What are you playing at?” she said, her eyes scanning the area I had come from. “Why did you bring the killer here?”

THE GROUP I had walked in with had been swallowed up by the huge crowd of people, which now filled almost every seat and every patch of ground in eyesight of the stage, as the sun finally set, giving the illusion of it sinking into the lake. Belinda, Tim, and the rest had disappeared into the masses, and I couldn’t make out who Holly was looking at.

“What are you talking about, Holly?” I asked. I disliked her, intensely, and it occurred to me that she was playing with me.

“Shh!” she said. “It’s starting.”

She pulled me down onto the chair next to her and shushed me again. Big lights came on, illuminating the stage, and a gong was rolled onto it by two gigantic, muscle-bound men in loincloths.

“This ain’t bad,” I mumbled. “I could use some popcorn or something, though.”

Holly shushed me again. “Be quiet,” she hissed. “This is important. Watch everything.”

Her dead-serious attitude sobered me a little. “I thought you were going to tell me about the night Dr. Dulur was murdered,” I whispered to her.

But Holly’s attention was fixed on the stage. The two he-men gonged the gong loudly. At once, the crowd became quiet, and then just as suddenly burst into chants of “They come, they come” in unison. My skin erupted in goose bumps. As if by magic, a brisk wind started, blowing the trees, which made eerie shadows through the night.

“I’m not sure I like this,” I said.

As if through a psychic connection, the crowd changed their chant to “Arrive, arrive,” their voices building to a crescendo until Mr. Steve appeared onstage. He wore Bermuda shorts, a pink Izod shirt, and nothing on his feet. He seemed very happy, like it was the most natural thing in the world to appear next to two half-naked bodybuilders onstage in front of a crowd of about one thousand strangers.

“The Arrival!” his voice boomed over a loudspeaker. He must have had a microphone somewhere on his body, but I couldn’t see it. The crowd grew quiet and leaned forward in rapt attention to hear whatever Mr. Steve was about to say.

“Yes, they come, my friends,” he continued. “They come, and we are unworthy, but we wait for them, and we will do their bidding. No matter what impediments block our path, our path remains a righteous one. More
righteous than the so-called righteous townspeople of the Sacred Mountain.”

Half of the audience applauded while the other half murmured in what I imagined to be alarm. Mr. Steve paused and removed his shirt, revealing a large red triangle tattooed on his chest. He pointed to it and shimmied his hips.

“Oh, my,” I said, and began to giggle. It was one of those giggles that builds on itself, until the giggler is doubled over in hysterics, unable to breathe, with snot bubbling out of her nose. The alcohol didn’t help matters.

I clutched my ribs and guffawed, drawing angry stares from the people around me. I tried to get my giggles under control. After all, these were the same people who sent a donkey off to fly over the town. Who knew what they would do to a disrespectful spectator who laughed in the face of their leader’s naked torso?

“I’m really sorry,” I said in Holly’s direction, but she wasn’t paying attention to me. She was busy scanning the area for something or someone, I didn’t know, but she was intent, and her face moved even less than usual.

I followed her gaze, and my giggles stopped. Holly was studying a tent a little off to the left of the stage. People were walking in and out of it. It was obviously a holding area for tonight’s performers. And standing outside of the tent was Arthur Holden, my maybe-boyfriend, the occasional mysterious man in my life.

I sobered up.

“They come! They come!” shouted Mr. Steve, and he was joined by a chorus of cultists, who began to sing their rendition of “The Way We Were” with lyrics adapted to the Arrival. “Aliens, like the probers of our minds,” they sang.

I was feeling concerned and jealous, and very impatient with Holly. “What are you up to?” I asked.

Holly clutched my arm. “Listen, I need your help. I know you have connections with the police.”

“Oh, that. I’m sorry, I can’t do anything to help you. They already know that you have been embezzling from Bliss Dental.”

“Focus, Gladie,” she said. “I’m talking about the murder.”

“Are you confessing something, Holly?”

Holly turned to me. Tears filled her eyes. “Dr. Dulur, he wasn’t a good man,” she said. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“He hurt people. Children. He had a rage inside him that was something terrifying to behold when he let it out. Do you know why I’m here?”

“Trolling?”

“I’m investigating. I’m doing your job.”

“Hey, I’m a matchmaker,” I said.

“Yeah, right,” Holly sneered, getting my hackles up. “I’ve been checking out this cult. Did you know Simon was a member?”

“Yeah, I did.”

Holly was surprised. I thought I even saw her eyebrow twitch.

“Did you know he was almost the leader of these nutjobs?”

“Yes.”

Holly laughed. “Now you’re playing with me. Okay, how about this? Did you know that the cult insisted he hurt those children as a test to become leader?”

“That’s criminal,” I said, shocked. “How did you find this out?”

“I have been hanging out here for days,” she said. “I’ve heard things.”

Things
had a way of turning out to not be reliable.
Things
usually meant rumors or miscommunication like in a protracted game of telephone.

“Why are you hanging out here? Why are you asking about Dr. Dulur?” I asked. It wasn’t like Holly to care about anybody except herself. I couldn’t understand why she would be looking into the murder.

“Don’t you see? Simon Dulur was a bad person.”

“Okay, and why do you need to prove that?”

“Because he deserved to die. It wasn’t such a bad thing to have killed him.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!
Warning bells went off in my head. What did Oprah say about warning bells? Were they good or bad? I had a hunch they were bad.

The warning bells evolved into outright ringing in my ears. I rubbed them, but the ringing wouldn’t stop. I scanned the area, looking for Holden. He was still at the tent, and I felt glad that he was within shouting distance.

The stage was filled with cult performers doing a synchronized dance, their hands to the heavens, or in this case, to whatever planet the aliens came from.

“Are you trying to confess something, Holly?” I asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you saying you killed Simon Dulur, but it was okay because he wasn’t a nice guy?”

“I didn’t kill him,” she said, her voice loud. “But maybe it’s better he’s dead. Maybe it was like a good deed. The murder, I mean. I need a drink.”

So did I. The alcohol had evaporated from my system.

“You are creeping me out,” I told her. I was about to get up and leave. Hitchhike or whatever it took to get home. It was a long day of nothing. A waste of a Friday. I might even stand up Holden, kick out Spencer, and spend the rest of the evening eating Oreos and watching Spencer’s television in bed, I thought, just to finish up the day on my terms.

Then I remembered why I had come to see Holly.

“Tell me about the night it happened,” I ordered.
“You said you were going to tell me the truth about what happened that night.”

Holly took a deep breath.

“Will you help me with the police?” she asked.

“Tell me about the night.”

Holly seemed to weigh the prudence of confessing to whatever it was she was going to confess. Perhaps she couldn’t live with her guilt any longer, or perhaps she couldn’t live with the secret, or just as likely, maybe she wanted to get it off her chest in hopes that I would understand and absolve her of her crime.

“I’m in deep, Gladie,” she said. “I’m drowning in it. I made a wrong turn, and now I’m royally screwed. I’m even scared to go home. I don’t see a way out.”

“What happened that night, Holly? Spit it out.”

“I have always paid my way. Nobody has ever given me a dime. I earned every cent that went through my fingers.”

I didn’t think it was the best time to remind her that she stole a hundred grand from her employer. Holly was staring out into the night, telling her story to make her seem like the best person she could be, revving up to finally admit to a terrible deed.

“I did go to Bar None that night, Gladie,” she said, bringing her attention back to me. “That part wasn’t a lie. I went right after you came into the office. Do you believe me?”

I nodded. There was a whole bar full of witnesses that put Holly at the bar that night.

“Good,” she said. “ ’Cause I want you to believe me. That way you’ll help me with the police.”

I sighed. If she was the murderer, the only thing I would help her with was the phone call to 911.

Holly rubbed her hands on her lap. “So, I left Bliss Dental and went to the bar that night. I went to the bar, but I came back.”

The choir ended their performance, and the audience erupted in applause. Then a terrible sound ripped through the night. At first I thought it was thunder and we were in for another storm. But it wasn’t a storm.