Swann Songs (The Boston Uncommon Mysteries Book 4) (3 page)

Sorrel made a self-deprecating gesture that dialed down the rhetoric. “That’s one thing I can relate to as well. No romantic leads for me.”

Sonia patted his hand, sparking a look in his eyes that was almost heart-wrenching.

“I`m still puzzled,” I said. “Why involve me in this fracas? I`m just a mystery writer.”

“A very fine writer of mysteries,” Anika said proudly.

“Precisely!” Sonia said. “That`s why you must help me. My story must be told by someone with credibility. Someone who can silence the haters—before they silence me forever.”

“Someone threatened your life?” Anika asked. “Over the lookism campaign?”

Sonia pointed to Duff. “Get the letters for them.” The girl whispered something into her ear and strode away.

“Oh! Duff just reminded me that we have a press interview in five minutes.” She called out a warning to the girl. “Make sure my things are laid out. Especially my throat spray.”

Anika and I exchanged glances. Whatever Sonia’s game was, I wanted no part of it.

“I just had dental surgery,” Sonia said. “If I don`t use that stuff, my throat explodes!”

We rose and gathered our things before making our escape. “Thank you for your interest,” I said, “but I don`t think . . .”

“Wait!” Sonia stepped in front of us. “Don`t make a decision yet. Join me as my guest tomorrow night at our fundraiser. What you hear may change your mind.”

“Is this Melanie Hunt’s gala?” I asked. “My husband just bought two tickets.”

Sorrel drew a list from his suit pocket. “Ah yes. Mr. and Mrs. Bolin Swann. Wait a minute. We have another listing for Eja Kane and Deming Swann.”

Anika laughed. “The whole clan will be there. One of Bolin’s clients gave him tickets to the dinner.”

“There you see—it`s kismet! Please tell me you`ll go.” Sonia flashed a beguiling smile our way.

“Okay,” I said. “Guess it couldn`t hurt. But before we leave, I must ask you something. Melanie Hunt is married to my ex-husband Gabriel. Isn`t that a conflict of interest? At the very best it`s awkward.”

Sonia was difficult to read. She shrugged as if the matter was too trivial to comment upon until Anika stepped up to the plate.

“There must be a story here,” she said. “I don`t know Melanie, but Bolin and I played golf with her parents. Lovely couple. We haven`t seen much of them since they moved to Phoenix.”

Suddenly, Sonia changed course. “It`s not a secret. Not really. Melanie went through a very awkward stage in high school. Braces, thick glasses, acne, every malady that could befall a teenager. Believe it or not, she was even pudgy.”

“Really?” Anika clucked her tongue. “Who would believe it? Melanie is so lovely.”

“She was scarred by rejection.” Sonia nodded. “Bullied at school. That`s why she supports us.”

I tried to reconcile the svelte, picture-perfect Melanie Hunt with a lonely teen outcast. Couldn`t do it. Moreover, Gabriel was obsessed with appearance. He had told me more than once that a wife’s outer beauty—or lack thereof—reflected on her husband. Perhaps this was payback for his many transgressions. Maybe he didn`t know about it.

Duff suddenly appeared and thrust a thick manila envelope my way. “Here`s the latest batch,” she said. “Just copies. Sorrel gave most of them to the cops. Some letters, mostly emails.”

“The police are involved?” I asked. “What did they say?”

Sorrel shot a look of tenderness and yearning at Sonia. She shrugged it off and laughed.

“I dismissed the whole thing as a macabre joke, but Sorrel insisted. The police didn`t seem concerned. You know how suspicious they are of pressure groups. They never even came over here.” She pivoted far more gracefully than I ever could and glided toward the bedroom. “Ta ta, ladies. See you tomorrow.”

THE LOBBY WAS awash with the prying eyes and big ears of the Bella Brigade. To avoid problems, we kept quiet until reaching the safety of the Mercedes. Paranoia ran deep in most political groups.

Anika took time to apply lipstick and fluff her hair before starting off, but I was too troubled to consider my appearance.

“Why did I ever go there?” I moaned. “Now we`re stuck at this thing tomorrow night.”

“Stuck?” Anika shook her head. “No, Eja, I think we`ll have fun. Sonia Reyes has something up her sleeve. Something involving Gabriel. Let`s see what cards she holds and how she plays them.”

“Oh, great. I`m some sort of pawn. Just what I need.” Deming would pop his elegant blazer buttons at the thought of it, but my father-in-law would simply grin. Bolin Swann was far more likely to relax and enjoy the game.

Anika braked sharply, narrowly avoiding a marauding Prius. “Use your head, Eja. Melanie Hunt, Gabriel, and Sonia Reyes are playing some kind of sick game. I`m sure she wants you there to up the ante.”

“What`s your take on this Sorrel Yeagan?”

Anika shrugged. “Can`t place him yet. I`ll ask Bolin. He usually knows the players or can find out if he doesn`t. It`s obvious that Sorrel is another pawn in the game. He and Sonia were lovers—past and maybe present. That hangdog look of his was the tip-off.”

When it came to lovesick swains, Anika was an expert. Her impact on men was akin to gravitational pull.

“But I have absolutely no need to see any of them again—particularly Gabriel. He won`t even be there tomorrow night unless he`s extending an olive branch to her. You know, playing the good guy for a change.” I sneered at the idea of it. “That`s a new role for him.”

“She`s beautiful, isn`t she?” Anika said. “Sonia I mean. I`m sure she and Gabriel had a moment.”

“A moment—count on it. An hour is more like it. The man’s a rake. Out of control.” I stopped myself in mid-rant. “Of course he may have changed. Until last week, I hadn`t seen or heard from him in ten years. Maybe he`s different now.”

Anika laughed. “Some things never change, dear. Any man who would deceive one wife will do it again, or in Gabriel’s case, again and again. Face it. He`s a serial philanderer.”

She spoke from long experience. Over the years, she had witnessed the implosion of many relationships. Her marriage to Bolin was unique because even after four decades their passion for each other never abated. I longed to find her secret formula, guzzle it down, bottle and sell it.

Chapter Four

OVER DINNER THAT evening I gave Deming the lowdown on our visit. His gift for listening, really listening to a woman, was among the many things that made him irresistible. He zeroed in on the salient points, planted his elbows squarely on the marble dining table, and curled his lip.

“My parents will be there tomorrow? I can`t believe that my dad agreed to this farce.” He heaved a giant sigh and surrendered. “Okay. But don`t expect me to like it, and don`t complain if I watch you every moment.”

“Watch
me
?”

He laced his fingers into mine and kissed my hand. “Yes, ma’am. That`s in my job description now. You draw trouble like a magnet, Mrs. Swann.”

I looked down, focusing on the delicate patterns in the Aubusson rug. It thrilled me hearing that name—Mrs. Swann. A foolish, immature reaction from a grown woman and career feminist but a genuine one. After Gabriel dumped me I armed myself against the pain of toxic relationships. I showed no emotion and felt nothing. My career and friends were more than enough, or so I thought. When Deming and I connected, my vulnerability returned and with it a deluge of feeling. Even now I occasionally pinched myself to prove that it was true: Deming Swann loved me. I was his wife.

“Hello in there, Eja. Are you in a trance?”

“Nope. Just thinking. I have to finish reviewing the galleys of my latest novel, get my nails done, and brace myself for this extravaganza. Whew!”

“Just goes to show you,” Deming mused. “Melanie Hunt went to some Manhattan boarding school. Spence I think. No. Wait a minute. It was Miss Porter`s in Connecticut. Very ritzy. By the time I saw her she looked pretty much the way she does now.”

“Flawless, you mean.”

“Not really.” He gave it some thought. “Pretty enough but cold and remote. We called her an ice princess on the Deb circuit.” Deming pinched my cheek. “Not the spunky, fiery type like you. Eja Kane—brilliant and brave. Don`t mess with that girl.”

“They do have a point you know about lookism. This Bella Brigade is just a stalking horse for a bigger issue. After all, outer beauty only goes so far. Women are still evaluated by appearance.”

Deming shrugged. “Moderation in all things, my love. You can`t change human nature. Sensitivity is fine, but there`s nothing wrong with beauty. Think of the
Venus de Milo
and the
Mona Lisa
. Both beauties.” He grinned, “Or for that matter, my mom, sister, and you.”

I blew out the candles and walked his way. “I`m glad we found each other. You saved me from turning into a hollow shell.”

He laughed. “I remember everything about you since you were five. Join me in the study, and I`ll tell you all about it.”

I SPENT THAT NEXT morning chained to my computer, grinding out my thousand words per day. The discipline helped to calm my overactive imagination and put the forthcoming soiree into perspective. After all, even at five hundred bucks a ticket, a dinner is just a meal.

To avoid complications, we agreed to share the Swann family limo with Anika and Bolin. Not a hardship since their vehicle of choice was a Bentley Mulsanne chauffeured by Bolin’s trusted retainer and majordomo, the famously loyal Po.

“I plan to swim in martinis tonight,” Deming growled. “Only way to make the evening bearable.”

I stood on tiptoe and tugged his bowtie. Tuxedos elevate even ordinary men to the next level, but a dreamboat like Deming soars into the stratosphere.

“Don`t be so crabby,” I said. “Besides, how can you shadow me if you get tipsy?”

“Good point,” he said. “Let’s hope the food is decent. One more rubber chicken dinner, and I`ll bounce back here.” He held me at arm’s length, studying me with cool hazel eyes. “Wearing red again I see. Nice choice.”

Unfortunately, Cato chose that moment to abrogate their truce and attack Deming’s shins.

“What the . . .? Get away from me, you little bastard!” Deming danced around the room like a man possessed. “Do something, Eja, before I boot him out of this room.”

I lured Cato away with a treat and gathered my things. “We should leave. Your parents will be waiting for us.”

Timing is everything. Just as we reached the lobby, the Bentley glided into the driveway. Po, a man whose countenance rivaled the Sphinx, alighted and wordlessly helped me into the back seat with the senior Swanns. They were a glamorous couple, my in-laws. Anika, a vision in lemon, wore a filmy body-hugging confection that few women of any age would even attempt. Bolin, a gorgeous Eurasian blend, looked more like a sibling than anyone’s father. Over the years, my awe of them changed to affection as Bolin and Anika became my family. I loved them, but I wasn`t immune to their star-power. No sentient creature could be.

“Did you read those threatening letters?” Anika asked, her hazel eyes alight with mischief.

“I did,” Deming said. “Just the usual stuff. Nasty but not especially creative.”

“Still, the police are involved,” Bolin said. “I`ll bet they keep the security pretty tight tonight.”

I suddenly recalled the Bella Brigade’s stance on non-violence and weapons. According to the brochure, they chose unarmed female attendants to run security.

“Don`t count on it. Most of the threats were directed at Sonia, and she prefers young loyalists as her personal guards. You saw Duff hovering around her,” I said to Anika. “She acts like a fanatic.”

Anika nodded. “I doubt that anyone could get too close to Sonia with Duff around. Plus I bet Sorrel Yeagan will be in the mix. We watched that interview Sonia did on the news, and he was sitting right behind her. Very smooth.”

Bolin agreed. “She knows all those communication tricks like focusing on the human interest angle. Smart.” Bolin Swann was a self-made billionaire who knew a trick or two himself. “That name sounds familiar—Sorrel Yeagan. Anika mentioned him, but I can`t quite place him. It`ll come to me sooner or later.”

The lobby of the Adams Hotel buzzed with activity. Po wrestled the Bentley to the curb ahead of more plebeian vehicles, allowing the ladies to make a graceful entrance on the arms of the Swann men.

I plastered a faux smile on my face to mask my misgivings. Nothing bad would happen—it couldn`t. The place would be packed, and with Deming and Bolin at our side, Anika and I were perfectly safe. Overconfidence is a killer. That`s where I made my mistake.

EVERY EVENT IS different but this gala erred on the serious side. I gathered from the stern-faced posters ringing the area that in the world of the Bella Brigade, spontaneity was verboten and humor unknown. A phalanx of sturdy female defenders nudged partygoers toward a formal receiving line—more of a gauntlet actually—that was eerily similar to a college mixer. The first faces I spied were no comfort. Melanie Hunt, a vision in black taffeta, stood stoically alongside her smiling spouse. I had seen that look on Gabriel’s face many times. It was a frozen, glacier-cold facsimile of charm that managed to just miss the mark.

Deming bent down and squeezed my arm. “Are you up to this?”

“Absolutely. Wouldn`t miss a minute.”

I marveled at how closely attuned to me he was. So much so that at times we seemed to inhabit the same body. That had never happened during my short and painful time with Gabriel. Everything in that relationship had been about him.

“Can you believe it?” Anika whispered. “He`s here. That`s awfully brave of Gabriel.”

“Or smart,” Bolin said. “Why feed the rumor mill?”

Our party of four moved slowly and deliberatively through the line, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. I`d never met Melanie Hunt before, but Deming dusted off his party manners and greeted Melanie with a warm embrace. He was icily polite to Gabriel, a man he had loathed for years.

I saw Melanie sizing me up as if I were a heifer at the county fair. No doubt she was weighing my assets against her own, trying to gauge what had led her husband to choose me the first time around.

“I`ve read your novels, Ms. Kane. Very entertaining.” Melanie’s expression was inscrutable. Her suspiciously smooth brow, an obvious product of Botox, looked untroubled.

I thanked her, nodded at Gabriel, and moved down the line to where Sonia Reyes held court. Once again, I bowed to a master tactician. Sonia wore a simple white sheath, well cut and exquisitely tailored. No obvious makeup or jewelry to spoil her message: don`t judge me by my looks, but am I not beautiful?

Sonia spent an extra moment appraising Bolin and Deming, but who could blame her? No other men at this event came close to the Swann boys. I caught the amused gleam in Anika’s eyes and winked at her. Neither one of us doubted our husbands’ loyalty, which was a great comfort in an era of planned obsolescence for aging wives.

“Thank you for coming,” Sonia said. “It means so much to me. May I introduce Fess Paskert, our department chair?”

Professor Paskert was a portly man in his fifties who proved his bona fides by promptly looking down my dress. Deming bristled until I whispered in his ear. “His doctorate was on Lord Byron. Obvious typecasting.”

In the power struggle with Gabriel, Sonia had drawn first blood. Flaunting her association with their boss, even a lecherous one, was a minor coup.

She waved her arm, and suddenly Duff materialized at her side. “Please show the Swanns to their table,” Sonia said. I detected a slight edge in her voice and apparently so did Duff. The girl held her head down and led us to our seats. All of the security patrol wore the same garb, shapeless black garments reminiscent of a nun’s habit sans rosary beads.

“Are you enjoying your assignment, Duff?” Anika’s voice was kindly. “Security patrol must be fun.”

Duff suddenly stopped, narrowly averting a collision. “No, Mrs. Swann. We`re guardian angels, not security. We keep Sonia safe.”

Did Duff see herself as a heavenly force? I noticed that strange gleam in her eyes again. She was as tall as Deming and considerably broader. An assailant would tangle with her at his own peril.

Unlike most fundraisers and galas, the décor was understated to a fault. No centerpieces, floral napkins, or party favors distracted patrons from the theme. Brochures about the Bella Brigade took pride of place. This was a deliberate strategy, not an oversight. I felt confident about that. Sonia had made a statement about appearance once again, and it was very effective.

Deming flipped through the brochures and groaned. “Point me to the bar,” he said. “This will be a very long night.”

TO MY SURPRISE, the evening was bearable, almost pleasant. Tasty vegetarian fare was enhanced by a superb assortment of wines that satisfied even Deming’s discerning palate. Windy speeches and self-congratulatory awards had been banished. A choral presentation by members of the Bella Brigade and a short video narrated by Sonia filled the program. Once again, impeccable stagecraft translated Sonia’s vision. I saw Bolin nodding his approval.

Melanie Hunt and Gabriel sat at a table with an older couple whose name escaped me. Judging from their body language, the Hunt-Mann duo was treading that narrow marital pathway between passivity and estrangement—no touching, laughing, or conversation allowed.

Before Anika and I slipped away to the powder room, Deming clutched my wrist.

“Be careful, you two. Don`t stir up any trouble.”

Anika swatted her son’s hands with her program. “Really, Dem, you`ve become quite a bully. Relax.” She turned to her husband. “Do something with him, Bolin. Please.”

We escaped to the sounds of Deming’s outraged huffs and found a secondary location minus the long line of ladies in waiting. The secluded spot had only one occupant. Sonia Reyes stood before the lighted mirror, combing her long black hair and tapping her foot.

“Oh, Eja, Anika, forgive me,” she said. I thought you were Duff. She went to my suite to fetch that damn spray and hasn’t come back yet. My throat is killing me. I can`t say another word until I get it.”

“Did you try her cell?” Anika asked.

Sonia nodded. “It went straight to voicemail, damn it all. That girl is a menace. She means well, but her attention span is less than a toddler’s.”

“Want me to check on her?” I asked. “She may be waiting elsewhere.”

Sonia shook her head. “I don`t want to impose. It`s just that this is such a special occasion. The audience expects plenty of conversation from me.”

“Still in the Cambridge suite?” I asked. “Give me your key card, and I`ll run up and get your spray.”

Anika applied lipstick and snapped her purse shut. “Hold up, Eja. I`ll go with you. We won`t be long, Sonia. Don`t worry.”

“The elevator is right around the corner,” Sonia said. “This is very kind of you.”

We scurried out the door only to find Deming propped against the adjoining wall.

“There`s a name for men who lurk outside the ladies’ room,” I said. “Sonia needs something, and we promised to get it. Nothing to worry about.”

“Huh! I`ll go up there with you, and Mother can join my dad.” He pinched my cheek. “Job description. Remember?”

Deming was at his most obdurate, determined to provide personal protection come hell or high water. My only option was to go with the flow, a choice that Anika had already figured out.

“Okay, children, don`t quarrel. I`ll find Bolin.” She slipped away, doing her trademark runway strut.

Deming grabbed my hand and herded me toward the elevator. “Come along, Eja. Don`t pout. Besides, I come in handy sometimes.”