My Lost and Found Life (12 page)

“I'm afraid today isn't possible for me. Actually, I'm on my way right now to my country retreat. I have to meet someone there, and it can't wait.”

“Your country retreat?” I said, my heart beating faster.

“Just a little place I keep up in the mountains near La Honda. Perhaps I can show it to you one day.”

“Perhaps you can,” I said, my brain buzzing light years ahead.
Maybe sooner than you think
.

We arranged to meet for lunch on Tuesday, and I got off the phone. A minute later, I called Brain and asked him to find out the address of Curtis Davidson's La Honda retreat. He
really is a Web wizard. It took him only twenty minutes before he e-mailed me the address: 12046 Deep Ravine Drive.

Next, I called Nicole, but as usual, Cindy was keeping her busy. So I asked Tattie if she'd take a drive with me.

“Sure, why not?” she said.

We drove south on Interstate 280 alongside grassy meadows peppered with oak trees and the glistening water of Crystal Springs Reservoir. The sun was bright in a cloudless sky. I opened the sunroof and let my hair blow in the wind. Tattie leaned back, sucking on a super-sized cola, while Metallica blasted from the CD player until I turned it off so I could explain my mission.

“This Davidson dude was having an affair with your mother?” she asked.

“That's my theory. I want to check out his so-called retreat,” I said. “Maybe she's there. I'm going to find out right now.”

Four miles later we turned east on Highway 92 and followed the two-lane road as it climbed up into the low ridge of mountains that separates the suburbs along the bay from the farms and beaches on the Pacific Ocean. At the rim we turned south again, onto Skyline Boulevard. Almost immediately the road narrowed, with redwood trees, dense blackberry bushes, and poison oak crowding the pavement on both sides.

Up here coastal fog clung to the top of the forest, blocking the sun and turning the sky the color of congealed oatmeal. The road curved around and between the towering trees. Periodically, we would catch a glimpse of a house before the road twisted away again. I had to slow down and concentrate to keep
the Jetta from veering off the highway as the road wound through a long series of corkscrew turns.

Following Brain's directions turned out to be a challenge, since the small lanes that intersected Skyline appeared suddenly and were poorly marked. I almost missed Deep Ravine Drive and had to hit my brakes hard to make the turn onto the narrow side road.

We passed a couple of houses and turned down a driveway next to a mailbox marked DAVIDSON in red letters. I saw his Porsche first, and beyond it, a very modern-looking house perched on a knoll.

I was feverish with a mixture of excitement and dread. If my mother was hiding here, I was about to find out.

“I'll wait here.” Tattie leaned back and adjusted her sunglasses. “Don't take too long. The country gives me the creeps.”

I jumped out of the car and sprinted down the drive. Crossing a little bridge over a trickling creek, I stepped up to the front door and rang the bell.

A minute or two elapsed, then the door opened and Curtis Davidson III stood there dressed in a V-necked pullover sweater and blue jeans, with bare feet. His jaw dropped and he stared at me in astonishment.

“Ashley! What are you doing here?”

“You said we need to talk,” I said, moving forward so he'd step back and let me in.

He didn't. He stared at me without moving aside. “I don't understand. We agreed to meet tomorrow. This is not a convenient time. I can't see you now.”

“I couldn't wait,” I said. “I'll just take a minute.”

“This is not a convenient time,” he repeated.

“Why? Aren't you alone?” I said, pushing past him and into the house.

The house was one of those architectural gems you see in magazines, the kind with lots of open space and a mammoth stone fireplace centered between floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the windows, I could see a huge deck and steam rising from what looked like a hot tub. Bluesy music was playing and a bottle of wine with two fluted glasses was set out on a granite countertop.

Then I saw her. A woman was seated on the sofa, with her feet tucked up under her. She was wearing a man's dark blue silk robe. She wasn't my mother.

“Hello. Who are you?” she said, biting her lip in surprise, and looking over my shoulder in apprehension.

I stared at her in dismay. She was forty or so, petite and buxom, with bright blue eye shadow.

Curtis came up behind me. “Janet, this is Ashley. Ashley's dropped by, uh, to give me a message. An important message. From my office.”

Janet nodded, shaking her improbably white-blond hair.

“Are you the only one here?” I blurted out.

She looked at me with hostile eyes and then said, “Of course. What an odd question!”

Curtis frowned “This is inappropriate. Mrs. Richardson and I are having a business meeting. You need to go. We'll discuss that other matter tomorrow.”

Ignoring them both, I marched across the room and peered
into the bedroom. Aside from a rumpled bed, there was nothing to see. No one was there.

Curtis came up behind me, grabbed my elbow, and steered me back toward the door. I didn't resist. My legs moved mechanically while I swallowed hard to choke back my disappointment. At that moment, we both heard the steady honking of a car horn. Tattie was getting impatient.

“Now what!” Curtis muttered in irritation.

I was pretty irritated myself. I felt like a prize idiot. Some girl detective I turned out to be. I wanted to kick Curtis in the shin and run out the door.

“That's for me,” I said tightly, and walked out without looking back.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” He emphasized the word
tomorrow
as he closed the door.

I climbed back into the car, started the engine, and threw the car in gear. As I sped back up the road in a flurry of gravel, I looked over at Tattie. She was smoking a joint and grinning.

“Well, what happened? Was your mother there?”

“No.”

I stomped on the gas pedal as we turned onto the main road. We roared down a short straightaway, then the car skidded on a sharp turn. For one frightening moment we almost swerved off the roadway. I hit the brakes, jerked the car onto the shoulder, and stopped. I put my head down on the steering wheel as I tried to slow my pounding heart.

“Sorry about that,” I said, not looking at Tattie.

“So what happened back there?”

“He had someone there all right, but it wasn't my mother. Some blonde with mean eyes named Mrs. Richardson.” I pulled my head up and made a sour face. “She was wearing a bathrobe for their
business
meeting.”

“So you walked into his little love nest?” Tattie took a drag from her joint and laughed. “That must have been something to see. Oh, wow, I'll bet you scared the life out of him. His penis probably shriveled up to the size of this joint.”

I gave her an annoyed look, but then the humor of it struck me and I began to laugh too.

“Mean eyes?” she chuckled. “I'll bet old Curtis isn't interested in her eyes.”

I laughed again and started up the car. Slowly, I moved back onto the roadway.

“What are you going to do now?” Tattie asked.

“Well, Curtis isn't hiding my mother there, that's clear. But he knows something.”

“Mmmm. Well, if you want, I could seduce him for you,” Tattie suggested.

Taken aback, I shot her a look. She was dead serious.

“Thanks,” I said. “But I don't think it's necessary. I'm having lunch with him tomorrow. I think I can charm some information out of the old lech on my own.”

• • •

The next day I had a hard time deciding what to wear. Should I play the innocent ingénue or sex it up with a tight red dress and three-inch stiletto heels? Finally, I decided on a flowered dress with a low-cut sweetheart neckline and shoes with kitten heels.

I was only twenty minutes late to the restaurant, which, for me, is like being on time. I spotted him as soon as I walked in. No doubt about it, he was handsome for his age and well dressed in an Armani suit with a beautiful blue silk tie. He had the courtesy to stand up as I approached. You don't see good manners like that every day.

A dark-haired waitress appeared almost immediately.

“Two Cobb salads and iced tea,” he told her, then added perfunctorily, “Is that all right with you, Ashley? I'm a little short on time.”

“Fine,” I said as he handed her both our menus.

He turned and gave me a major-wattage smile, with lots of eye contact. I wasn't buying a car from him, so I couldn't imagine what I had done to deserve so much warmth.

“I'm sorry I couldn't talk yesterday. I hope you didn't misunderstand the situation with Mrs. Richardson,” he said.

“Oh, no,” I said, widening my eyes innocently. “I understand completely. It was very rude of me to barge in like that. It's just that I was so eager to have our talk.”

He gave me another warm smile. “You know, you're even prettier than your picture.”

I ignored that and got the ball rolling. “So, what is it you want to talk to me about?”

Curtis cleared his throat slightly. “I'm sure you're aware that your mother and I have worked very closely for the past several years.”

“Yes,” I said, even though I didn't know any such thing.

“Did she talk to you about me?”

“Some,” I said cautiously, and took a bite of my salad. If she had, I didn't remember.

He paused, as if to reconsider what he was going to say. I decided to move this whole thing along since he was so short on time.

“I know she's very fond of you.”

Of course, I made that up, but I remembered what Phil had said about there being someone else in my mother's life. Curtis was obviously the typical cheating husband. His wife probably played tennis and belonged to the Opera Guild. Or maybe she loved horses more than him. Whatever her story was, I was betting that she didn't understand him.

“I am very fond of her, too. Diane is a delightful woman.”

“She is,” I said with a little choke in my voice. Totally bogus, of course, but I didn't mind putting on an act for the guy. “Since you and my mother were so close, I'm surprised that you waited so long to call me.”

“Of course, I've wanted to get in touch, but the situation called for some discretion. After all, the police might have tapped your phone. And it would have seemed suspicious, or at least imprudent, if I was seen knocking on your door. This unpleasant situation has been very difficult for all of us.”

The guy was the complete Yoda of double-talk. “This situation?” I retorted.

He coughed and politely covered his mouth with his napkin. “I refer to the press and publicity and general uproar.”

“Not to mention the papers that were served on me.”

“Yes, that too.” His voice was sympathetic and his eyes were
wide open in an unblinking I-have-nothing-to-hide stare that didn't fool me for a minute. “I tried to dissuade the firm from that course of action, but the board was obdurate. I hope you understand it was nothing personal.”

He seemed to be waiting for me to answer. I waited for him to go on. This was what playing poker must be like, with each player trying to outbluff the others. I had never actually played poker, but I am an excellent actress after all. I took a sip of my iced tea and gave him another innocent smile.

Finally, he said, “How is she? Is Diane all right?”

“How would I know?”

“You don't have to pretend with me, Ashley. I'm a friend. You can trust me.”

I almost laughed. How could he deliver a line like that with a straight face?

He went on. “I've been worried and expecting to hear from her every day. Why hasn't she been in touch with me? Is she angry?”

I caught my breath in surprise but managed to keep from blurting out anything stupid.

“Shouldn't she be?” I retorted.

“No, she shouldn't. I can explain. I need to talk to her, Ashley. You need to persuade her to call me.”

“Why do you think I'm in touch with her?”

He gave me a reproachful look.

“I'm not stupid, Ashley. I know that you know where she is and how to reach her.”

“And how do you know that?”

He made an impatient gesture. “Your mother would never
disappear without telling you. In fact, the only thing that surprises me is that she didn't take you with her. We both know she's in touch with you, so why are we playing this ridiculous cat-and-mouse game?” He grabbed my hand. “Look, Ashley, talk to her. Tell her to call me. I have to speak to her. I need to know how she's going to proceed.”

I pulled my hand away. “It's your fault she's in this mess.” It was a question and a statement at the same time.

“Is that what she says? She's blaming me? I think she's being a little bit unreasonable. I seem to recall that your father instigated this whole business and your mother was the perpetrator. I helped her when she didn't know what to do and had nowhere to turn. Perhaps the whole business got out of hand, but she's definitely culpable.”

I was suddenly tired and thoroughly disgusted. This patronizing jerk obviously thought I was a complete ditz, but I had his number. Clearly he was deeply involved in whatever had gone on. Jesus, Diane, why were you always such a sucker for these handsome, sweet-talking smoothies?

My face must have betrayed what I was feeling, because he frowned.

“Listen to me. It's in all of our interests if she calls me. Tell your mother that.” The look in his eyes wasn't so friendly anymore. He stood up, pulled out his wallet, and put some cash on the table. “Unfortunately, I need to get back to the office. Tell Diane she better not do anything crazy. Because I might do something crazy.”