Night Hunter (2 page)

“
I’m sure we can get the runners-up, it’s Corinne I have my doubts—”

“
Corinne’s a must.”

“
I don’t want to push this—”

“
Push it,” he said. “Move in fast before she has a chance to think it over.” His voice softened. “Sweetheart, you’re wonderful at what you do. No one can touch you in the talent department. But, please, leave the decision making to me, okay? This is our chance to put some meat into the show. We have six days. Use everything you’ve got to convince her. And if she’ll agree to come on alone, then dump the others.” He strode across the room. At the door he stopped, looked at her, and smiled. “Great show today. You looked sensational.” Then he was gone.

She turned, facing the large window which looked out onto the now dark set and stared at her reflection in the glass. She saw a pretty woman with windblown blond hair, wide-set blue eyes, and a full mouth with even, white teeth. Her smile, Nolan reminded her daily, was her best feature. In this light, gazing into the tinted glass, she could pass for the girl, twenty years ago, who was voted fourth runner-up in the Miss Classic Beauty Pageant.

She thought of the other finalists. Regina Van Raven was the show’s co-producer and her best friend. Amelia Corde did volunteer work for PBS — Regina hinted she had a sapphire blue eye on Donna’s job at KSCO. Tammy Kowalski, in the throes of marital problems, bounced in and out of their lives like a fishing bobber. And last, but certainly not least, Corinne. There had been no contact aside from that one encounter the day following the assault. Donna tried not to think about that. After two decades she still felt a wave of nausea whenever she thought of that brief visit at San Francisco General where Corinne, heavily sedated, moaning in pain, her swollen face a mass of ...

But Corinne had recovered. And Donna heard she’d undergone reconstructive surgery prior to her release three months later.

Yes, maybe it was time they all got together again.

Regina sat at her desk sorting through a stack of office memos. The third one got her attention. She reread it, puzzled.

Still holding the memo, Regina walked around the partition to Donna’s tiny cubicle. Standing in the doorway, she caught a glimpse of herself in the oval mirror on the opposite wall. Her dark brown hair, pulled into a clip at the nape of her neck, was dull and frizzy. With today’s heat, humidity, and the rushing around, she felt washed out, unattractive. She quickly looked away.

“
What’s this, a joke?” Regina asked Donna, holding up the paper.

Donna leaned back in her chair, and motioned for Regina to come in. “No joke.”

“
The Classic Beauty Pageant,” Regina said, reading. “Jeeze, Donna, that was fifteen years ago.”

“
Twenty.”

“
God.”

“
I know I should’ve consulted you first. After all, you are the co-producer, the talent coordinator, and the chief cook and bottle washer—but you would’ve nixed it. There’s one major change. We’re aiming for next week’s time slot. We’ve got to make some calls.”

“
You’ve already invited the others?”

Donna nodded.

“
Corinne?” Regina asked.

Donna nodded again, this time solemnly.

“
Why? Why in God’s name--”

Donna held up a hand to silence her. “I know. I know. Let’s just say I’m in a position to bring us together again — publicly —and
I
want to, that’s all.”

“
What’s the slant?” Regina asked.

“
We have two options. If Corinne declines, we interview four local, former beauty contestants--”

Behind Regina a male voice said flatly, “But if Corinne agrees to come on the show and talk about the acid incident, we go for it.”

Regina turned to face Nolan Lake. “And that’s what you’re really shooting for, isn’t it?”

Nolan shrugged.

“
Are we resorting to sensationalism?”

“
That’s the kind of business we’re in,” Nolan said. “It sells.”

“
I like to think ‘City Gallery’ is above that sort of thing.”

“
That’s why it’s Donna’s show and not yours,” Nolan said with a thin smile.

“
Nolan, please,” Donna said quietly.

Nolan perched on the edge of the desk and massaged the back of Donna’s neck. “It’s going to be a great show. Period.”

Regina looked from his determined face to Donna’s hopeful one. For Donna she would do it.

“
I’ll start making the calls,” Regina said dryly, turning to leave.

Nolan blocked her way. “You were the first runner-up, Regina,” he said. “Haven’t you ever wondered what course your life would have taken if you had won the title instead of Corinne?”

Fixing him with a direct, gaze, Regina said, “No.” Then she moved around him and walked away.

CHAPTER
3

Amelia

Amelia Corde cautiously moved the key ring. Without picking up the gray snakeskin wallet she opened it flat and, with long, burgundy fingernails, wriggled the thick sheath of bills out far enough to see the denominations. There were hundreds, then fifties, and on down to the fives. Matthew never carried ones in his wallet. He probably tossed them away. The man was frivolous with his cash, except where his wife was concerned.

She counted the money. Four hundred and eighty dollars. She slipped one of the three fifties from the stack, dropped it on the floor, then nudged it under the dresser with a stockinged toe.

A toilet flushed in the bathroom. Amelia quickly stuffed the rest of the money back into the wallet, closed it, then positioned the key ring exactly as it had been. She had just crossed to her vanity and snatched up the morning mail when Matthew Corde strolled into the room. Their eyes met briefly before he disappeared into the walk-in closet.

She forced herself to breathe normally as she sorted through the brochures and business-size envelopes. The one addressed to her from KSCO TV caught her eye. Amelia slit it open with a thumbnail. She read the letter quickly, then reread it more slowly.

Donna Lake wanted her on the show. Well, it was about time. This was perfect. The interview could only enhance her prospective venture. The publicity was just what she needed.

She turned to the mirror, staring at her image critically. Although she had recently passed the forty mark, little had changed about her. A few gray hairs, plucked immediately when they appeared, several fine lines at the corners of her eyes, but essentially, she was still as slim and beautiful as the girl in the contest. Her shoulder-length black hair would need a touch-up. Perhaps she’d go with mahogany highlights this time.

Matthew came back into the room tying his necktie. At fifty-three, he was a thin man of average height with a perpetual grave expression. His eyes were prominent, giving him a bug-eyed countenance. The top of his head, bald except for a dozen long strands, was shiny and mottled with brown liver spots.

“
Donna wants me as a guest on her show.” She waved the letter.

He raised an eyebrow.

“
The Classic Woman. The beauty contest. She’s doing a follow-up show—two decades later. I was queen, remember?” When he failed to comment, she added, “All right, so I was queen by default. You know as well as I do that I should have won.”

“
That was a long time ago.” He dropped his keys in his pants pocket and slipped the snakeskin wallet into the inner pocket of his dark blue suit jacket. With his back to her, he asked, “Do you suppose she ever suspected that you slept with one of the judges?”

“
Really, Matthew,” she said.

“
I’m teasing,” he said. “Go. Have your hour of renown.” He went to the door, then stopped. “I suppose you’ll want a new dress for this momentous event?”

“
Oh, darling, you’re so perceptive.”

Taking out his wallet, he carefully selected a credit card and, moving behind her, dropped it on the vanity top. “Don’t get carried away. Leave the card and the receipt on my desk.”

“
Thank you, Matthew,” she said sweetly, biting back the bitterness she felt at being treated like his mistress instead of his wife of eighteen years.

“
Give my best to the illustrious Mrs. Lake,” Matthew said. His hand came around her shoulder and reached inside her kimono to cup a breast.

Amelia’s voice was tight. “It’s inconceivable to me how that woman ever bagged her own TV show. She’s a mousy little jellyfish—afraid of her own shadow. Her husband, naturally, is the driving force behind her success, and I don’t wonder. She’s incapable of an original thought.”

“
I found her to be a stimulating conversationalist and quite intelligent.”

“
When did you have this profound revelation?”

“
When you placed her next to me at our dinner party for the mayor.”

“
Is that all you found her to be?”

Amelia glared at him in the mirror.

His hand came away. “No need to be jealous. She could never be as sexy as you. Speaking of which, while you’re shopping, pick out something frilly that will please me, hmm?” He smiled, then turned and left the room.

After he had driven away, Amelia crossed to the dresser, retrieved the fifty, and went to the telephone on the nightstand. She dialed the number on the letterhead, then asked to speak to Donna Lake. As she waited, she thought of Fletcher, her young lover. In one hour she would be in his arms, his solid body pressed to hers. Fletcher adored her and would do anything to please her. Not that Matthew didn’t adore and lust after her, but it wasn’t quite the same.

She sighed, thinking that if Fletcher had only half of Matthew’s money, he would without a doubt spend it on her freely, not make her grovel and steal. No matter, she and Fletcher together would make all the money they needed. In a month’s time, if everything went well, she would be free of the Honorable Matthew Holstead Corde. The only thing she’d miss would be this magnificent house in Pacific Heights. Not a mansion by California standards, but a long ways from the rat hole trailer she’d grown up in. Well, one occasionally had to compromise.

Soon she would be in the limelight again and, without a doubt, the fairest of them all. She thought about the others. Donna still looked okay, but in no way extraordinary. Regina seemed to have an aversion to maintaining what looks she had. And Tammy had let herself go all to hell since giving birth to the twins. Corinne couldn’t possibly be a threat. Twenty years ago the woman had been rendered a monster, and no amount of plastic surgery could change that.

“
Sweetie!” Amelia said cheerfully when Donna came on the line. “And how is San Francisco’s numero uno celebrity?”

C
HAPTER 4

Tammy

Tammy Kowalski opened the front door and quickly ushered her nine-year-old daughters into the house.

“
Go in the living room and watch TV,” she instructed the girls. “Don’t get into anything. I don’t want Daddy to know we were here.”

“
Why
are
we here?” Kerry asked.

“
Never mind. Just stay out of trouble.” Tammy pushed the girls toward the living room.

Tammy beelined to her estranged husband’s bedroom and, with a practiced hand, sorted through each drawer of his dresser and nightstands. She found nothing new since the last time she had been through his things.

At the unmade bed, she threw back the covers and bent over the mattress. Directly in the middle, on the mauve colored sheets, she saw a white, crusty stain. Then another. Semen? “Slut,” she whispered. She tossed the covers over the stain.

She moved into the bathroom where she rummaged through the vanity drawers, medicine cabinet, and laundry hamper. In the wastebasket she found the cardboard cylinder to a tampon. “Scuzzy bitch.”

On the floor, on her knees, digging in the wastebasket, Tammy caught sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror. She turned slowly and stared intently at her pale blond image. The summer had just begun, yet her skin was already the color of golden toast. Her round, icy gray eyes were bright in contrast.

She stood, pivoting this way and that, delighting in the scrutiny of her body in the mirror. The aerobics instructor, at thirty-eight, in pink spandex pants and black midriff top, studied her tall, lean figure critically. Tammy cupped her new breasts. The incisions had healed and the tenderness and swelling was gone. She had a strong compulsion to see her firm breasts in Gary’s mirror. She pulled at the elastic top, about to take it off, when the phone rang.