Bonefire of the Vanities (31 page)

“But he sure as hell didn’t hang around to make certain you weren’t dead.” Tinkie was unforgiving when it came to her friends.

Footsteps in the hallway stopped our conversation. Graf and Sherry Westin rounded the corner. Sherry broke away and ran past us up the stairs. The look she threw at me was almost an accusation, and I wondered what had transpired with my fiancé. Graf stood befuddled for a moment before he joined us.

“Is Sherry the real deal or a fraud?” I asked, giving Tinkie and Oscar warning scowls to keep their lips zipped about my tumble.

Graf didn’t seem to understand my question. He stared at me, but he didn’t seem to see me.

“Hey!” I put a hand on his chest. “Graf, are you okay?”

“Do you remember Granger Reed?” he asked. He was positively dreamy. Had she drugged him?

“Of course. We studied theater under him in New York.”

I’d adored the old codger. He was a veteran of musicals and dramas, and he’d taught me technique, improving my acting by 80 percent. I explained to Oscar and Tinkie who he was. “He died my second year in New York. He was like a father to Graf, though. They worked together a number of times. He used his influence to help Graf.”

“Now isn’t the time for a trip down memory lane,” Tinkie said. She frowned and whispered in my ear, “What’s wrong with Graf?”

I couldn’t answer her, but something was definitely up. “Graf, why are we talking about Granger Reed?”

“I spoke with him. Just now,” Graf said. The bemused expression deepened. “It was … incredible. He stood right there in the room, and he told me things. Sarah Booth, you should have been there. He said he was proud of me, that I’d made the transition to film and he thought I was brilliant.”

I reached up to touch Graf’s forehead. He acted like he was running a fever. “We need some blood work done on you.” Judging from his numbed behavior and the flush on his face, my assumption that he might be drugged could prove correct. We had to document it. So that was how Sherry convinced people she was a medium. She got them one-on-one, drugged them, likely hypnotized them, and made them see whatever in the hell she wanted them to see.

“I’m not drugged,” Graf said rather pointedly. “I’m not that stupid. I didn’t eat or drink anything. She really brought Granger back to speak with me. He knew things about my career only he would know. And Sarah Booth, he says the script I sent you is the right career move for you. And me! He was thrilled we’re together. He said he always knew we had chemistry. He said you never appreciated your abilities, that you had more talent than anyone he’d ever taught, but you didn’t believe in yourself.”

Tinkie’s mouth formed into a tiny
O
of dismay. Oscar put his arm around her and shot me a look of sympathy.

“Did Granger’s ghost blow my cover?” I asked as gently as I could.

The glaze slowly left Graf’s eyes. “What?”

“Did your ghost tell Sherry that you and I are a couple?”

Graf’s Adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened. I didn’t ask to speak with Granger. He showed up, and he started talking, and then he was so excited that we were to be married. I can’t believe I did this, Sarah Booth. I came here to help you, not sabotage your case.”

“Sherry either drugged you or hypnotized you.” It wasn’t Graf’s fault, but I had to fight back my annoyance. “The cat is out of the bag now, for sure.”

“Good.” Oscar took control. “We can all quit pretending. Graf and I will pay whatever is required to be a part of this Heart’s Desire. Tinkie and you will join us in our suites, as it should be. We’ll attend the séances and find out what the Westins are really up to. Enough of this maid and valet silliness.”

In a way, Oscar was right. Tinkie and I had accomplished all we could in our disguise as maids. We could simply investigate for Mrs. Littlefield, maybe prevent her from ruining the rest of her life. That was what we were hired to do, not deceive the Westins. It was time to put aside our covert operations, move Mrs. Littlefield and Pluto home, and help Coleman find out who had killed two young women.

“If Sherry could hypnotize Graf and get him to spill his guts about you and everything else, she’s a very dangerous woman,” Tinkie said. “She’s had private sessions with all of the clients at one time or another. We can assume she knows their innermost secrets.”

“Then she’d likely know who killed Amanda and Lola,” Oscar said. Leave it to the moneyman to apply logic. “Why hasn’t she told Coleman?”

“Two possibilities. Either she has something to gain, or the killer is someone she’s never consulted with. Someone like Yumi Kato.” While Oscar had dibs on logic, I knew human nature. “We need to work fast. Amaryllis is missing, and Yumi stole Palk’s keys. She can go anywhere on the compound.”

“I’ll speak with Roger Addleson,” Oscar said. “He knows something about Amaryllis, and he won’t push me—”

Tinkie took his arm and steered him away.

“Who did Roger push?” Graf asked.

“Talk to the Westins. Find out what they know about their chef. Please.”

It was the “please” that did the trick. “Will do.”

“Tink and I will see how our client is doing,” I said.

“She’s gotten used to having us to order around,” Tinkie said. “This is going to be hard on her.”

We trudged back up the steps I’d so recently bounced down. Graf must have noticed my stiffness, but he didn’t ask. At the second-story landing, Tinkie and I turned to Marjorie’s room.

She’d been asleep earlier, and I suspected she might still be. She slept a lot. Probably due to the bottles of medication for anxiety and nerves. We weren’t especially quiet when we entered the suite. The bedroom was empty.

“Where’s Marjorie?” Tinkie asked.

Pluto frantically dug at the closed door of the bathroom. “Stop it,” I told him. He’d already managed to claw off several layers of paint. Marjorie would have a major repair bill tacked onto her visit. “Ease off.” I picked him up, but he jumped from my arms and clawed at the door again, his fat little black paws moving like he was churning butter.

“Marjorie?” I tapped on the bathroom door. “Marjorie?” I heard water running. “Marjorie?” I smacked the door a little harder. To my horror, when I looked down at my feet, a growing puddle of bloody water seeped around my shoes.

Pluto let out a gut-wrenching yowl and attacked the door again.

Jiggling the handle, I discovered the door was locked.

“Get the men!” I used my shoulder as a battering ram while Tinkie ran to get Oscar, Graf, and Palk.

Within minutes, Palk, dressed in his tuxedo, was there. He forced the door open but allowed Tinkie and me to enter first.

“Call 911!” Tinkie ordered. Marjorie’s slender body, terribly childlike, floated in an overflowing bathtub stained pink with her blood. One wrist hung over the side, dripping bright red onto the flooded floor.

Her eyes rolled open and she smiled groggily.

*   *   *

Marjorie’s pulse was weak but steady after we lifted her out of the water, wrapped her in a blanket, and settled her on the bed. Tinkie applied pressure bandages to her wrists while we waited for Doc Sawyer to arrive.

Chasley paced the room, one wary eye on Pluto, who’d assumed a sphinxlike pose on top of my best white shirt. “She should be taken to the hospital,” Chasley said. “She’s a danger to herself. Clearly you can comprehend that? It’s not about the money. I don’t want her to die. Can’t you understand? She’s my mother and I don’t want her to die.”

Tinkie and I had our share of worries about Marjorie, but we resisted Chasley’s pleas. He seemed sincere in his worry, but I couldn’t forget that a hospital record of attempted suicide—and there could be no doubt what Marjorie’s actions implied—could become a real problem for her. Once she was in a hospital, it would be one more tiny step to send her to a mental ward. I feared that was Chasley’s ultimate goal, no matter what he said. And Tinkie had assured me the cuts on her wrists were not life-threatening.

“I don’t want to be hospitalized.” Marjorie turned her head away from Chasley. “You want to declare me insane. I’m not crazy, I’m just so alone.”

“You attempted suicide, Mother. That isn’t the action of a sane person.”

Instead of responding with anger, she sighed. “I’ve had enough of all this. I want to go home. I thought this would bring me happiness, but it’s only generated misery. I want to live quietly for the time I have left. Enough séances and investment strategies. My life has become a series of chores that mean nothing to me. I’ve clung to a foolish dream. I believed something magical would happen to show me what to do with the rest of my time on this plane. Life doesn’t work that way. I’m done. I simply want to go home.”

Excellent news! If we could put Marjorie on the road home, then we could fully focus on finding Amaryllis, capturing Yumi and proving her guilt or innocence, and picking up our lives in Zinnia. I rushed to the closet to bring out her bags and pack.

“I want you to stay here, Mother.” Chasley pushed off the far wall. “You came here to talk to Mariam. You shouldn’t leave until you do.”

I wanted to beat him with a stick.

“What is your problem?” Tinkie asked, obviously sharing my annoyance at Chasley’s stupidity.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve come to a few conclusions myself. Mother will never believe I’m innocent unless Mariam tells her. I never harmed my sister. I may be guilty of neglect, but I was a fifteen-year-old boy. When I realized Mariam was missing, I panicked. I knew I didn’t pay enough attention to her. When she fell into the river, I thought at first she was hiding from me, paying me back for ignoring her. When I realized she was truly gone, I searched for her. Had I seen her in the water, I would have tried to save her, even if I drowned myself.”

“But you didn’t call for help until much later,” Tinkie said softly. “That’s what troubles your mother. And you showed no grief.”

Chasley paced as he gathered his composure. “I’d taken Mariam to show her how much Ramón trusted me, but the offices were locked. When she disappeared, I’d been trying to break in through a window. I was frustrated, so I smoked a cigarette. I wanted Mariam to see me as grown-up and sophisticated, someone Ramón trusted. Finally, I realized she was gone and what had likely happened. I couldn’t get into the office to use the phone. I tried some of the other buildings, but they were locked, too. By the time I found a pay phone…”

Sorrow touched his handsome features, and I felt real pity for him. As much as Marjorie had blamed him, he heaped more guilt on himself. He had been, after all, only fifteen.

“You never spoke about what happened,” Marjorie said.

“I didn’t know what to do. I tried, but it was like being in a nightmare. At first, I didn’t want to believe anything had really happened to her. I thought if I could pretend that it wasn’t a big deal, maybe she’d be okay. Maybe she’d show up. Maybe she’d come home.”

“Chasley.” Marjorie spoke so softly. “All these years, you’ve carried the burden of guilt. I always thought you didn’t care, that it didn’t matter to you. You were so … blasé about her death.”

“Inside I was dying, but you were so angry at me. Callousness was the only defense I could manufacture.” He dropped to a knee beside Marjorie. “I didn’t harm her, Mother. Believe what you have to, but I want you to understand I never laid a finger on her. If I could bring her back, I would.”

He reached for Marjorie’s hand but stopped when Pluto rose up and stalked toward him. The cat walked like a line backer, and his green gaze locked on to Chasley. Pity the fool who took on that cat.

For a moment we froze in the tableau. Marjorie began to sob. Hard, rending noises that sounded as if her guts were being shredded. “I’m so sorry, Chasley,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

I could see her blood pressure spiking by the flush in her face. “Chasley, let Marjorie rest. When the doctor gets here, I’m sure he’ll speak with you. We need to keep her quiet.”

Brandy Westin tapped lightly at the door, and when we’d relieved her worry—Marjorie was not in danger of dying—she put her arm through Chasley’s and gently urged him toward the door. She whispered to him. Whatever she said did the trick. He left without further protest.

I cleared everyone else from the room. I needed a word with my client. Tinkie went downstairs to brew tea, an excuse to give me time alone with Marjorie.

I sat on the side of the bed. A spot of blood had seeped through the pressure bandages Tinkie had wrapped on Marjorie’s wrists, but the cuts were shallow and Tinkie’s nursing more than up to the task. The worst of Marjorie’s physical wounds was over, for the moment.

“Do you believe him?” I asked.

“Part of me wants to, more than anything,” she said. “What I do know is that it doesn’t matter. I’m tired of all this. What if I do talk to Mariam? What if she tells me Chasley is innocent? Or guilty? It won’t make any difference. She’s still dead and I’m still alone. I’ve focused so long on protecting my money and using it as a means to punish Chasley. I’ve been a rotten mother to him. I don’t deserve better.”

Even though I agreed with her, the defeat she expressed was hard to accept. “Maybe you can make it up to Chasley. The two of you can start fresh. It isn’t too late.”

“Call my lawyer, Sarah Booth. No, I want a new lawyer. Donald Allen has wielded too much influence in my life. Call a Zinnia lawyer. A young person who isn’t jaded by life. I want to change my will. I’m leaving all of my possessions—everything—to Chasley. It won’t make up for the years I’ve cheated him out of having a mother, but he can stop fighting me for the crumbs. Let him have it all. I’m done with this. I just want to go home.”

“Are you sure? This is so sudden. Give it until tomorrow at least, Marjorie. Acting rashly is never smart.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Call an attorney you know and trust, or give me the phone and I’ll call the first lawyer I can find.”

I used the cell phone Coleman gave me to contact a bright young lawyer I knew in Zinnia. Lacey Polaterri said she’d be at Heart’s Desire in two hours. I figured that would give Doc time to check Marjorie over. Soon I would be packing her bags and taking her home. I felt as if I’d been at Heart’s Desire half my life. The only thing left to do was find Amaryllis and safely remove her from the compound.