Possessed (13 page)

It was in The Parklane that August that Ana's path first crossed with Stefan Andersson's. That day, she saw him in the lobby and perhaps sized him up to be her next conquest.

It could all have been a product of timing. Perhaps Ana suspected her liaison with the businessman was drawing to a close. Perhaps the man had already told her it was ending after the night he watched her lose control and slap a waiter at a downtown eatery. Perhaps by then her current lover realized how quickly she became irrational and even violent. Perhaps the man feared her. Perhaps Ana judged that she would soon need someone new to support her, someplace to
live. Perhaps she saw in Stefan someone who could be easily controlled, someone lonely and desperate to be loved.

In the end, indecisive words like perhaps wouldn't seem relevant. For it appeared as if the pull of destiny cobbled Ana Trujillo and Stefan Andersson together. That day in The Parklane's lobby, when Ana asked one of the staff about Stefan, she undoubtedly looked beautiful, sexy, laughed and smiled, as charming as so many knew she could be. Only later would Stefan meet the real Ana. And by then, how could he escape?

L
ife twists and turns, suddenly two strangers see each other for the first time, and from that point forward nothing is ever the same. Can either fully explain the attraction? Does anyone ever know the forces that fuse two people? In the end, Stefan Andersson's downfall would be that once he bonded with another person, he found it nearly impossible to extricate himself. He saw people with all their flaws as simply human, refusing to judge them by any higher standards. He worried about them. If they had a problem, he tried to help. Even when he should have walked away, he felt unable to turn his back.

On a hot August Houston afternoon in 2012, Stefan stood in the vast, air-conditioned lobby of The Parklane condominiums. Outside, the trees were lush green, while inside a display of orchids graced the glass entry table, as the click of stiletto heels on a white-marble floor clattered off the walls. The concierge sat behind the main desk, and at the double-glass doors stood the valet.

Fifty-eight-year-old Stefan Andersson, scientist and professor, by then had leased unit 18B for nearly two years. Viewed by the staff as a shy, quiet man, Stefan lived simply, working in the lab during the day, circulating to a handful of favorite nightspots in the evening, drinking and eating with friends. Despite his advancing age, he still dreamed of more, finding the right woman, even having the children he'd always imagined. His mind filled with thoughts of
science and life, he walked into the lobby and greeted the concierge as he always did, saying simply, “Hello.”

There stood Ana Trujillo Fox, her long, dark hair cascading about her shoulders, most likely wearing tight jeans or one of her long, flowing skirts with a low-cut summer top, the straps thin to show off the curve of her well-toned shoulders, along with strappy stiletto heels, the kind Stefan loved so much that friends teased him about a shoe fetish. Ana could be charming at first meetings, and on that day, she undoubtedly eyed the white-haired man and smiled broadly. Their eyes met. They talked.

“Would you like to go out for lunch?” Stefan asked at some point in the conversation.

In truth, as disparate as their lives were, they had a lot in common. Both had rejected traditional religion and worshipped the sun, albeit in different ways: Ana in a pagan sense, seeing the sun as a deity of sorts; Stefan simply for its ability to give light, something he'd so missed growing up in Sweden. Both were immigrants from other countries. Even Stefan's apartment suited Ana's tastes, with its white walls and carpet and black-leather furniture echoing the decor she'd chosen for her last true home, the Houston house she'd shared with Jim Fox. The apartment must have looked familiar to her on that first day she walked through the doors.

Instead of lunch, they shared a table for dinner. Later, Ana, who at forty-three was fifteen years younger than Stefan, would say that he was an exceptional listener. He told her about his work in the lab, his training as a scientific researcher, his role as a professor who lectured medical students. In turn, she described herself as an artist and a hostess in an art gallery, perhaps for her brief stint with Christi Suarez at the downtown art happenings. Based on her interests and theories, she said that she was conducting research of her own, investigating ways the body could use natural therapies and art to heal.

At that juncture, was there any reason for Stefan to assume she was lying?

“I
've met a woman,” Stefan told Annika soon after that first encounter in the lobby. On the phone, Stefan explained how they met, and that Ana Trujillo had been living with another man in the same building. “She was moving off from the other man, and one of the staff at the condos told me that she was asking about me.”

As they talked that day, Annika wondered about the woman, concerned about the man Ana had been living with in The Parklane. Would he come looking for her, and could Stefan end up embroiled in their drama? “Is he going to be possessive about her?” Annika asked.

“No,” Stefan answered. “She doesn't have a place to stay. She's moving in with me.”

“And this other man is okay with that?”

“He's fine,” Stefan said, brushing it off.

“So this man she was living with is okay with her moving into your apartment?” Annika repeated, rather surprised. It all seemed odd to her, but Stefan sounded happy, and of that she was glad. He'd had a rough transition to Houston but had found an apartment he loved, friends to go out with, and now a woman he was interested in.

A short time, perhaps weeks later, when they talked again, Annika asked, “Well, how's it going with her living there?”

“Well, I'm not getting much work done at home,” he said, worrying about an upcoming trial where he was scheduled to be an expert witness for one of the pharmaceutical companies. He had research to review, and having someone else in the apartment offered distractions. Still, he sounded excited at the prospect of having a beautiful woman in his life, concluding, “It is working out better than I thought.”

In the days that followed, Stefan had similar discussions with other friends he kept in constant contact with, including Ran Holcomb, the accountant, whom he told about Ana and her “hot Latin blood.”

Others, too, worried about Ana's former lover, and if he would be miffed at Stefan for moving into Ana's life. “I
don't think you should date her,” one woman friend from Dallas said. “What if this man comes after you?”

Laughing, Stefan said, “It's just fun. I'm having fun. Be happy for me.”

“You shouldn't see this woman,” his friend said, having the overwhelming sense that Stefan was somehow in danger. “This is not a good relationship for you.”

Labor Day week, Annika went bird-watching, starting in the Hill Country, finally working her way to Galveston. It had been a glorious trip during which she photographed 121 species, including four lifers, ones she'd never before seen, the most unusual, a black-necked stilt. Her favorite, however, was a type of warbler, a yellow-breasted chat. She'd been so excited, only later when she looked at the photo did she notice a Texas ribbon snake poised directly behind the bird.

In the past when she arrived in Houston on Saturday, she would have stayed at Stefan's for a night, sleeping on the couch. But because her old friend now had a woman living with him, Annika dropped in briefly, still wearing her bird-watching clothes and covered with sweat and bug spray. Eager to get home, she might not have stopped at all, but she'd brought samples from the lab in Dallas for the joint research she still worked on with Stefan, investigating how hormones regulate the function of the cervix. Stefan had been running late with his end of the research, a situation he attributed to pressure in the University of Houston lab to work on other projects instead of his own.

At the door, Stefan greeted Annika warmly and invited her in. They talked about mutual friends, laughed, while for most of the brief visit Ana stayed cloistered in the bathroom, dressing to go out to dinner. She and Stefan had reservations at a new Southern comfort restaurant he had discovered, Lucille's, in an old, converted house. When Stefan invited Annika to join them, she declined. “I can't go like this,” she said, indicating her shorts and T-shirt. “And I need to get home.”

Glancing about, Stefan's apartment looked different to
Annika. In the past, his living spaces had always been fastidious, but now she saw Ana's things scattered across the living room, and her makeup cluttered the vanity. It was very un-Stefan, but Annika thought little of it other than that the new woman in his life was changing him, perhaps for the good.

When Ana joined them, she wore a tight, off-the-shoulder, short ruby-red sequined dress and stiletto heels. Her long hair fell about her shoulders, and she had dark shadow on her eyelids. The two women exchanged greetings, and Stefan suggested, “Let's open a bottle of champagne.”

“Not for me, Stefan,” Annika answered. “I have a long drive.” So instead, Stefan walked to the kitchen to open a bottle to share with Ana.

Earlier, Stefan had told Annika about a trip he'd made to Waco with Ana, to visit her parents. During it, to ease any qualms the Tharps might have had about Ana and Stefan staying in the house together, Ana told Stefan to tell them they were getting married. He did, and while there he met Arin, Ana's younger daughter, who played softball on her high-school team. Stefan, who'd always been impressed by athletic endeavors, said the girl showed a lot of discipline. Ana's older daughter, Siana, had moved out on her own, but during the visit, Ana told Arin that she wanted her to relocate to Houston, to live with her and Stefan. Describing the scene to Annika, Stefan said the girl looked like a deer in headlights, frightened by having to uproot.

To allow the girl to explain what he suspected she wanted, Stefan asked her, “Would you rather finish up in Waco? With your friends?” Arin replied with a relieved yes.

While the two women were alone, Ana talked about that encounter and Stefan, remarking about the kindness he'd shown her daughter. “He's really supportive,” she said. Annika, who knew how much Stefan loved children, wasn't surprised.

When Stefan rejoined them, he and Annika talked, Ana saying little. Annika thought perhaps Stefan had told Ana
that for a brief time years earlier he and Annika had been lovers. If he had, she thought Ana must have looked at her in her sweat-streaked garb and decided she wasn't a threat, for she seemed not at all concerned. In fact, Annika thought Ana appeared bored by the conversation, perhaps because they talked of colleagues and friends Ana had never met.

When Annika left that evening, she wasn't worried about Stefan but happy for him, hoping the match would be a good one. In her brief interaction with Ana Trujillo, Annika hadn't noticed anything to worry about. Even later, in hindsight, she'd think of nothing from that meeting that should have set off warning bells.

Early the following morning in Dallas, Annika got out of bed and poured herself a glass of juice. When she turned on the computer, she had an e-mail from Stefan about their research project that he'd sent at 2
A.M.
Annika knew Stefan habitually went to bed at ten or eleven and rose early to see the sunrise. Surprised, she wondered why he'd sent an e-mail in the middle of the night. She responded, and asked, “What the heck were you doing up at 2
A.M.
?”

“Voodoo,” Stefan responded.

Annika had never heard him use the word before and wondered what he was talking about. Then, thinking little of it, she laughed and assumed it was some kind of a joke, a moment of silliness.

That same day, Stefan stopped at the concierge desk and asked for an authorization unit admittance form, the paperwork needed to give someone access to the building and his apartment. He was given one, and he filled in the name of the person to be admitted as Ana Trujillo Fox. The authorization gave Ana the right to come and go from The Parklane and Stefan's apartment as she pleased.

Around the same time, Ana ran into Teresa Montoya. The women had seen little of each other except in passing since the night a year earlier when Ana had been removed from Montoya's hair salon and in response attacked the
security guard. “I miss you,” Ana said, and Montoya replied that she had missed Ana as well.

The two women went out to lunch, as they had so many times before, and ended up drinking wine. Ana told Montoya about Stefan, describing him as intelligent but saying that she was bored and not attracted to him sexually. “He's so much older than I am,” she said, dismissively. “But I'm going to try to work it out.”

Later, Stefan pulled up in his Mercedes to drive Ana home and waved at Montoya. She thought he looked handsome with his white hair, and as he drove away, she found herself hoping that the relationship would become her friend's salvation.

“A
na wants to get married,” Stefan told Annika after he and Ana had lived together for a month or so. If it was Ana's idea to marry, to Annika it sounded as if Stefan was considering the proposal. Although surprised, Annika had assumed that the relationship was going well. On the phone when they talked three or four times a week, Stefan's conversations were sprinkled with references such as “Ana and I are going . . .” or “Ana and I did . . .”

“Well, is there something to this?” Annika asked. “Are you thinking about it?”

“You never know,” he said.

“Well, be careful. Hold your horses here,” she said. “Stefan, you just met her. There's no rush. When the initial charm wears off, it may be different.”

There seemed little doubt that the initial charm Annika referred to featured a heavy dose of sexual attraction, at least on Stefan's part toward Ana. Other men had found her intoxicating, and Stefan wasn't immune to her charms. In fact, Ana fulfilled all the requirements he'd told his friends he looked for in a woman, when he'd described the “hot Latina” who could salsa dance and teach him Spanish.

Near the end of September, perhaps six or seven weeks
into their affair, Ana would later say that Stefan brought her to Houston's Galleria, a sprawling shopping center complex of expensive stores just outside the West Loop. “He bought whatever I wanted,” she said. “He told them to bring me their best stilettos.” There, she'd later say, he gifted her with two purses and two pair of shoes, including a fifteen-hundred-dollar pair of Christian Louboutin heels, with their distinctive red soles. In the apartment, she walked around nude, wearing only the shoes. Later, she said that she convinced him to return the Louboutins, saying she worried about spending so much money. But as she described it, the shoes were part of their mutual attraction. “That was our sexual play. That was his pleasure,” she said. “I wanted to please him and do whatever he wanted.”