The Portrait of Doreene Gray (8 page)

The man nodded by way of greeting. “Enrico Russo. I wonder if you can help me. I need to talk to Ms. Gray, but I don't want to disturb her if she has company. After you've been inside, could you come out and tell me if she's busy?”

“Can't you just call her?” Michael asked.

Enrico lifted a shoulder. “As I said, I don't want to disturb her. It's not urgent.”

“I'll find out for you,” Suki offered. “Hey, are those amber lenses in those sunglasses? I've been wondering if I should get some while I'm up here. It's always clouding over.” She held out a hand. “Could I try them on?”

“Of course.” He took them off and gave them to her. Behind the glasses, deep crow's feet bracketed his eyes, which were brown and flat.

Suki put the glasses on and gazed around. “Nice.” She handed them back. “Thanks. I'll go see if Doreene is free.”

He didn't put the glasses back on, but held them loosely in the hand he had draped over the steering wheel. “I appreciate it.”

Angus raised a hand. “Pleasure meeting you.”

They walked across the street to the house.

“Do you think he's a stalker?” Michael muttered.

“He might be a member of the press,” Angus said quietly. “Enrico Russo is an Italian name, isn't it?”

Suki nodded. “Yeah, but his accent didn't sound Italian to me.”

“Italy's a big place,” Angus said mildly.

Michael snorted. “Europeans don't know big. Scotland is only the size of North Carolina.”

Suki shook her head. “I swear I've heard that accent before, and I don't think it was Italian. It's something subtler.”

“Brazilian?” Michael asked. “Although that guy didn't sound like Reynaldo to me.”

“Brazil
is
a big country, but I don't think it's that, either.” Suki shook her head. “I don't know.”

At the front door of the house, Michael reached toward the handle, but it swung inward before he could grasp it.

Maxwell Thorne stood in the doorway. “Can I help you?”

Suki gave him a wide grin. “Honey, we're home!”

He smiled uncertainly.

“Doreene invited us to stay with her.” Michael lifted one of the bags he held, by way of illustration.

“Is Doreene with you?” Max craned his neck to see past them.

“She's not home?” Suki asked. “Because there's this guy…” At the sound of a car starting up, she turned. “… who wanted to see her, and now he's driving away. Weird.”

Max watched the Impala accelerate down the street. “What guy? Who was that?”

“Enrico Russo,” Angus said. “I don't suppose he's part of your security detail, is he?”

Max looked disgruntled. “Doreene hired two of Lupita's relatives to guard the painting at the press conference. She never mentioned anyone else. Maybe I should call the police. Did anyone catch the license plate number?”

The others shook their heads.

“Make sure you tell her about this,” Max said. He held the door open wider. “I suppose you may as well come in. Doreene isn't answering her cell phone, so I dropped by to see if she was here. Presumably Lupita knows where to put you. Lupita!” he called.

They trooped inside as Max held the door for them. Lupita came clattering down the stairs.

“I'm sure I'll see you later,” Max said, and left.

Angus smiled at Lupita. “Did Doreene mention that she asked us to stay at the house?”

Lupita nodded. “The bedrooms are all upstairs.”

She took them to the second floor and down the hall a little, where she gestured to an open door. “Here's one. This used to be the parlor.”

Suki looked inside. “Do Angus and Michael need to share?”

Lupita shook her head. “There are a lot of bedrooms. Miss Doreene sometimes throws big parties.”

Angus set the bags he carried just inside the door. “I think I'll take this room, if that's all right.”

“Do you think Doreene is selling the house because she wants a smaller place?” Michael asked Lupita as they continued down the hall.

“I don't know.” She shook her head. “I've worked for this family since I was seventeen and my aunt brought me over from Mexico.” She took a tissue from her apron pocket and blew her nose. Then she straightened her shoulders and went farther down the hall.

They all followed.

“This used to be the drawing room,” Lupita said, going through another doorway.

“I wonder why they call it a
drawing
room,” Suki said.

Lupita looked around. “All I know is, it's the only guest room with its own bathroom.”

Suki put her bags down. “I'll take it.”

Michael cleared his throat. “
Drawing room
is short for
withdrawing room.
Members of the household entertained guests in it.”

“I thought that's what the parlor was for,” Suki said.

“It is,” Michael said, looking uncertain.

“Does Maureene have any say in whether the house is sold?” Angus asked Lupita. “Someone told us their stepfather left everything to her.”

Lupita shrugged. “I don't know about that. All I know is that Maureene has always protected her sister, always done everything for her, even above her own daughter.”

“How so?” Michael asked.

Lupita went to the door, looked into the hallway outside, then closed the door and spoke quietly. “Lyndsay is Maureene's daughter. She was mostly a good girl until high school, and then it was lots of yelling about wanting a car, wanting to go to a fancy college. The last thing they argued about was her wedding, and that was the worst.” She shook her head. “Screaming and crying about how Maureene wouldn't pay for her to have it in Tahiti and must not like the man she was marrying.”

“What did you think of the guy?” Suki asked.

Lupita shrugged. “He seemed okay. Anyway, it got so bad in the house that Doreene decided to go on one of her trips, and that was the last straw.”

“How so?” Angus asked.

“Doreene went on a round-the-world cruise, starting in Tahiti.”

The others groaned.

Lupita nodded. “Lyndsay went back to England and got married with only her boyfriend's family there. Maureene has only seen her daughter a few times since then.” She shook her head sadly. “I never saw someone get old so fast. It broke her heart.”

“And Doreene?” Michael asked.

Lupita's sorrowful expression hardened. “She came back two months later, looking younger than ever, with some Italian boy who wouldn't drink anything but wine and fizzy water.” She snickered. “Every time I brought him a glass of water, I put a little bit of sleeping pill in it. Finally Miss Doreene got rid of him, he was so drowsy all the time. He said it was the weather.” She bit her lip. “Please don't tell anyone. That's the only time I ever did anything like that, but she made me so mad.”

Suki nodded. “Next time, try laxatives.”

Lupita smiled slightly. Then her smile disappeared, and she rubbed her arms. “Last night, I went to close my bedroom window and I saw lights in the woods. Maybe
el Diablo
is finally coming to take her away.”

“What kind of lights?” Angus asked eagerly.

Lupita turned her head and rubbed her chin on one shoulder. “Spirits of the dead, crawling across the ground.”

Angus and Michael both whipped out notebooks.

“Actual crawling figures?” Angus asked. “Did they have ragged clothing? Long, straggly hair?”

“Angus!” Michael said. “Quit leading the witness.”

“More like glowing bones,” Lupita said. “I closed the curtains and prayed half the night, I was so afraid.”

“Glowing bones,” Angus murmured, writing furiously. “Brilliant.”

“I assume you live here,” Michael said. “Where's your bedroom?”

Lupita pointed at the ceiling. “I have a suite, upstairs. It's just me on the third floor.”

Angus nodded. “And where is Doreene's room, so we know not to go in there?”

Lupita pointed. “Master suite, at the very end of the hall.”

 

Nine

The staff of
Tripping
spent the rest of the afternoon doing Internet research on the family, the portrait, and the town. Michael also searched for the name Enrico Russo, but was unable to find any information on the man in the car.

By six o'clock, Doreene still hadn't returned. Angus ordered a pesto pizza, and they ate it in the conservatory.

“This was a good idea, Angus,” Suki said, pulling a slice onto a plate. “The smell was driving me crazy the whole time we were walking around this afternoon.”

“They probably vent it out specially,” Michael said, before taking a bite.

They ate in silence for a while. Then Angus dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin. “
Spirits of the dead, crawling across the ground.
That's a hell of a quote.”

“Lupita's got a vivid imagination, that's for sure. You should offer her a job at
Tripping,
” Michael said.

“I wish I could, poor woman.” Angus tossed his napkin in the lid of the pizza box. “Doreene has a lot to answer for. That was a terrible thing she did, going to Tahiti instead of offering to chip in on her niece's wedding.”

“Not to take away from Doreene's horrible behavior, but Lyndsay sounds like a spoiled brat to me,” Michael said.

“Oh, I don't know,” Suki said. “If Maureene's paintings were selling well at that time—”

“They were,” said Michael, who had done the bulk of the research.

“Then why shouldn't Lyndsay have gotten a car, or gone to the school she wanted?”

Angus lifted a finger. “We don't know Maureene's financial situation. Maybe she was loaded with debt.”

“Then her sister should have helped, instead of taking round-the-world cruises,” Suki said. “It's hard for a girl to see her aunt living that kind of lifestyle when she isn't getting what she wants. They were family, after all.”

Michael snorted. “The kind of family that keeps therapists in business.”

They heard voices approaching.

“Speak of the devil.” Michael wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I think Doreene might be home.”

Sure enough, the sound of Doreene's chatter came closer, interspersed with Reynaldo's laughter. Doreene appeared in the door, carrying Gigi. Behind her, Reynaldo carried glossy shopping bags, several to a hand.

Doreene looked particularly lovely in a dress with a pleated skirt. Printed morning glories decorated the black fabric, and her heeled sandals matched the blue color. “I see you've made yourselves at home.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Angus said. “We'll be sure to wash our dishes.”

“You can leave them for Lupita.” Doreene turned to go. “Come on, Reynaldo. You can give me a fashion show with all your new clothes.”

“Doreene,” Angus said. “A man came to see you today. Enrico Russo.”

She turned back, an irritated look on her face. “Who?”

“He was sitting outside your house in a white Impala,” Michael said. “We thought you might have hired him as part of the security for the painting.”

Doreene shook her head impatiently. “I didn't hire anyone to sit outside in a car. Is he there now?”

“Not unless he came back,” Michael said. “He drove off a while ago.”

Reynaldo set down the bags he held. “I will look.” He trotted away, admirable backside flexing beneath sleek trousers.

Suki wiped her hands on a clean paper napkin and reached for her camera, which sat on a plant stand beside her. “I got a picture of the guy. You can take a look and see if you recognize him.”

“At least one of you was thinking,” Doreene said, coming to stand next to Suki.

Suki brought up the picture.

Doreene squinted at the screen. “Is that the best you could do?”

“Hold on, let me magnify it for you,” Suki said. She pushed a button several times, then tried to retain her grip on the camera as Doreene pulled at it. “I'd rather you let me hold it,” she said, just before Doreene wrested it from her hands. “Fine, but if you break it, you're buying me the newest model.”

Doreene angled the camera's screen to avoid the late light that slanted through the window. Then her eyes widened and her jaw tensed.

“So you do know him,” Angus said.

“What did he say his name was?” Doreene asked.

“Enrico Russo.”

“I might know him.” She pressed some buttons on the camera.

“Don't do that.” Suki pulled it from her hand. “If you need … Hey! You deleted it!”

They heard Reynaldo's returning footsteps.

Doreene made her way around the table. To Angus, she said, “If Enrico comes around again, I'd like to speak with him. I meet so many people in my travels, it's hard to keep track.”

Reynaldo came back, panting slightly. “I ran up both sides of the street, but didn't see anyone.” He bent to pick up the shopping bags.

Doreene swatted his rump. “That's all right, sweetie. I'm sure it's nothing. Let's go try on your new clothes.”

He leaned in quickly and kissed her cheek. “I will start with the bathing suit.” They left, chatting merrily.

Suki slowly lifted her gaze from her violated camera. “The nerve of that unholy, surgery-addicted, Botoxed bitch of a—”

“Steady, lass,” Angus broke in. “I've never seen you this upset.”

“I've never seen her upset at all,” Michael said.

Suki clenched and unclenched her jaw. “I'm okay.”

“You didn't happen to back up that photo, did you?” Angus asked carefully.

“When would I have done that?” she snapped. “We've been out all day. My laptop is in a bag upstairs.”

“That's all right,” Angus said soothingly. “I'm sure Enrico will be back, and you can get another picture. A better one.”