What? I winced. Carlene thought I was reacting to her statement. Wilson looked at me like I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“You know, fooling around? Doing the dirty.” Wilson gestured with his hands.
I shook the vision from my head. In no way did I feel that was the case.
“What is it then? What’s haunting you that’s driven you back to my doorstep?”
“I wasn’t a hundred percent honest with you or with Amy about how I knew Jared. I told her we had been buddies in high school, but—”
“It was more than that, wasn’t it?”
Carlene closed her eyes. “Jared wasn’t just a friend. He was my—”
“Brother,” I said. The vision of two toddlers playing together hadn’t fully formed in my head before the words had escaped my mouth.
“Whoa, I didn’t see that coming.” Wilson sat down.
“My real name’s not Carlene Muller. It’s Carlita. Carlita Munoz.” She pronounced it perfectly with a Hispanic accent. An accent she had managed to hide from me. “I’m the daughter of Christina Munoz, Dr. Conroy’s former housekeeper.” Carlene went on to explain that her mother had lived in the guest house, and she and Jared had grown up together, like best friends. “It wasn’t until I graduated high school and went away to college that things changed.”
Carlene put her hand to her head. The memory was painful. I could feel a deep stabbing in my heart.
“Your mother died,” I said.
“It was right before Christmas. Dr. Conroy called and told me my mother had an accident. She had fallen while stringing holiday lights and broke her neck. She died instantly. He invited me home for the funeral, but after that, he told me it would be best if I didn’t come back. Ever. That I didn’t belong there. That’s when I got curious about my father and why he never came to visit. All those years and never once did I hear from him. I decided to do one of those DNA tests, and—”
“You found out your real father was Dr. Conroy.” The vision of the doctor’s secret family hidden behind the estate’s gate was coming together. “Did you ask him about it?”
“When I told him I had found out, he got angry. He said I was nothing but a big mistake. He accused me of trying to blackmail him. Told me there was nothing I could do about it, and if I tried, I’d be sorry.”
I locked eyes with Wilson. “That had to be tough.”
“It’s not like I had any illusions about the doctor being a great father. He was verbally abusive to Jared. It’s no wonder Jared was an alcoholic. I remember, when I was little, there used to be these big family parties on the estate with the Conroy’s—the doctor’s sister, Elizabeth, his brother, Edward, and his wife Madeline and their kids. The only one I really remember was Matthew. The doctor always seemed to favor him. I never could understand why, but looking back on it, it’s odd.”
Carlene paused.
“Because?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve often wondered if maybe I weren’t the only illegitimate child. Maybe Matthew might be Dr. Conroy’s too. Anyway, to give you an example of just who the doctor was, for Jared’s fifth birthday, the doctor hired somebody to come give pony rides in the backyard. Jared hated horses, he was afraid of them, but Matthew was all excited. The two of them were each on a pony, riding around in a circle, and Jared fell off and started to cry. The doctor called him a big sissy right in front of everybody, and Jared ran inside the house and wouldn’t come out again. Some party.”
“Was it always like that?”
“Pretty much. There weren’t a lot of good times between Jared and his father. Far as I can remember, Jared grew up angry with the doctor. He never wanted to go to work for him. He hated the business. He didn’t want anything to do with it, but his father insisted. I think that’s one of the reasons Jared started drinking. And then there was the accident.”
“When he drove his father’s Maserati off a cliff in Malibu?”
“It was front-page news everywhere. And after the accident, Dr. Conroy sent Jared to Europe to rehab.”
“Why Europe?” I asked. “There’re lots of rehab centers here.”
“I don’t know. Europe was always the doctor’s playground. Growing up, I remember he’d be gone for months at a time. It’s where the company has all its research facilities. I guess Dr. Conroy thought it was the best place. But Eli didn’t.”
“Jared’s mother?”
Carlene nodded. “Sending Jared away like that, after nearly losing him in the accident, put her over the edge. After she died, I remember reading about it in the papers. They said she took her own life, but I never believed that.”
“You think the doctor had anything to do with it?”
“I wouldn’t dare say if I did. But I always thought if maybe I’d stayed in touch with Eli, things might have been different. Unfortunately, it was a whole part of my life I couldn’t go back to. My mother was dead, and Dr. Conroy had made it very clear I never come back. I had no idea if Eli ever knew about Dr. Conroy and my mother, but by then, the past was the past, and I didn’t think I should try.”
Bossy jumped into my lap, and I stroked her. “And as far as you know, Dr. Conroy had no idea you and Jared were still in touch, or that you had planned Jared’s bachelor party?”
“No way. If he did, he would have done something to make sure I wasn’t in the picture. The doctor thought Jared’s old friends were a bad influence. He blamed them for Jared’s drinking, and forbid them to ever come to the house. The only friend he ever permitted Jared to stay in touch with was Raul, and that was only because Raul’s father owned some land Dr. Conroy wanted to buy, and he gave him a seat on the board of Conroy Cosmetics with the rest of the Conroys.”
“What about Jared’s cousin Matthew, were they close?”
“They tolerated each other. They weren’t at all alike, and Matthew’s name wasn’t on the guestlist. Amy, Jared, and I put it together for the party.”
“And Amy, she has no idea about your past relationship with Jared?”
“Jared didn’t want her to know. He told her the doctor didn’t like him staying in touch with his old high school buddies, and that it would just be easier if Amy never mentioned anything about me to the doctor.”
“Even though you had changed your name?”
“Why risk it, right? Far as Amy knew, Jared didn’t want her to mention anything about his friends to the doctor, and she didn’t.”
“I’m curious, after your mother died, why didn’t you reach out to Jared? He would have been off to college, out from under his father. Didn’t you ever try to reconnect?”
“By then, Jared was in his own world, and I didn’t trust the doctor wouldn’t find out if I did reach out. It wasn’t until I accidentally ran into him in Beverly Hills that we started talking.”
“And did you tell him about his father then?” I asked.
“Not at first. I mean, those weren’t exactly the first words out of my mouth, but it did come up.”
“Was he surprised?”
“I suppose you could say he was more angry than surprised. He said things between himself and the doctor—that’s what Jared called his father—were as frosty as ever. After Jared came back from Europe, he moved into the guest house, but what he wanted to do was move out and get as far away from his father as he could. But without access to his trust fund, he didn’t have many options. The rich, you know, they’re hobbled by their money. Without it, they don’t know how to function, and the doctor had threatened to cut Jared off unless he went along with his conditions.”
“Which were?”
Carlene counted on her fingers. “Stay sober. Settle down. And go to work for the company. If he could do that, by the time Jared turned thirty-one, he’d come into enough money he would never have a worry about anything again.”
“So, you came up with a plan.”
“I prefer to think Jared and I came up with an answer. I’d just met Amy a couple of weeks before. She was new to the city. Didn’t know anyone, and she was perfect. The doctor wouldn’t know anything about her, and I knew Jared would like her. I mean, look at her. What’s not to like? The girl’s like vanilla ice cream.”
“And for this, you got a finder’s fee?”
“Jared offered me fifty-thousand dollars.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“I would have had more if I were able to inherit, but since I couldn’t, I agreed. Jared said if Amy worked out, and he collected his trust fund, he’d find a way to set the record straight. That’s how Jared was. He was a decent guy, and he played fair.”
“And what about Amy? Was he playing fair with her?”
“Initially, all Jared needed to do was convince his father he’d changed. Marry Amy and then somewhere down the line, he planned to tell Amy it wasn’t working out. Only—”
“Only what?”
“Only Jared fell in love. For real.”
“And the doctor?”
“Jared said he loved her too. Amy changed things inside that house. So much so the doctor and Jared started to get along. And when the doctor learned Amy was pregnant, Jared said he’d never seen the doctor act so paternal. That it was like they were all starting over again. It was a fresh start for them all.”
“And after Jared died, did you try to talk to the police?”
“What could I say? That Amy was a setup? I don’t need them checking into my background. I didn’t kill Jared. If the police told the doctor about me, that’d put me right back in his crosshairs. Besides, since when was it a crime to set someone up?”
Crack!
Bossy jumped from my lap.
Suddenly, the pane glass window behind the couch shattered. A rock sailed through the window, and just as quickly, Wilson shot from his seat. With one hand he caught the rock like a baseball, diverting a trajectory that surely would have hit me, then sprang to the window. Outside, the sound of tires squealed. My eyes followed Wilson. He looked back at me and dropped the rock.
“The gray sedan,” he said.
I put my hand on Carlene’s knee. “Are you okay?”
With her eyes wide, Carlene responded. “I’m fine. What was that?”
“A warning,” I said. “Did you tell anyone you were coming here today?”
“No, nobody. But that rock—” Carlene pointed to the rock on the floor. Her eyes from me and back to the rock. “It stopped mid-air. Did you do that?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure you’re wrong, but whoever threw that rock intended it to be a message. I think it best you leave, and I wouldn’t mention to anyone about your visit here today. I promise you I won’t and that your secret’s safe with me.”
I hustled Carlene to the door. I wasn’t sure if I was more concerned about the rock or that Wilson had interfered, something a shade must never do. His actions had put his future in peril, and his time with me in question. While I was thankful the rock hadn’t hit me, I had a mess on my hands. In front of me, shards of glass had scattered, like pieces of a puzzle I needed to put back together.
Chapter 12
I called Detective Romero immediately after Carlene left. He came by, surveyed the window, noticed I had patched it neatly with a piece of cardboard and masking tape, and packaged up the rock. He said he doubted his forensics team would find any prints, but it was worth a try and promised to increase patrols in the area.
I didn’t hold out much hope.
Meanwhile, things on both sides of the veil had grown quiet. Too quiet. Wilson had yet to make contact with Jared, and Amy, who had promised to call, had yet to reach out to me.
By Monday, I was beyond impatient. The police investigation, which I knew was little more than a babysitting assignment designed to make Dr. Conroy happy, had produced nothing. The thoughts in my head had grown to include a cast of potential suspects along with a voice screaming at me like the headlines of a supermarket tabloid. “Jared Conroy Murdered!” In theory, I agreed with the doctor; Jared’s death was no accident. The question was, who killed him, and why? I tried to focus on Jared’s last night, surrounded by his friends, including Raul and Billy, and his cousin Matthew, all growing possibilities, but still no proof. The only other person of interest, at least to me anyway, was Madeline Conroy. Like the others, however, I had no evidence, no smoking gun.
Finally, I decided it was time I prompted Wilson. I found him in the study sitting by the window with Bossypants, purring like a lioness, in his lap.
Ahem. I stirred my throat. “Sorry to disturb you, but you need to try harder. You have to make contact with Jared. Time in a murder investigation is of the essence.”
Wilson’s hand came to rest on Bossy’s back. “You think I’m lollygagging?”
I walked over to Wilson’s desk. On top, his notebook computer was open to a Wikipedia page about The House that Vanity Built, with pictures of Dr. Conroy and his wife Eli in the corner.
“What I think,” I said, “is that your past proclivities, your nosy-need-to-know-how-the-other-half-lives, has caught up with you.” In life, Wilson had been a notorious busybody, part and parcel of what made him a successful stage designer. He knew all the particulars of how the rich and famous lived. How they dressed. Spoke. What they liked and didn’t like. And now, as a shade, with carte blanche to wander through the homes of people like the Conroys, the temptation to dally among their personal effects was too much. “It’s awfully easy to slip. Old habits die hard.”
“What are you trying to do, guilt me?” Wilson strode across the room with the cat in his arms and slammed the notebook shut.
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Trying to bore into your conscience and guilt you into action?” I whipped the cat from Wilson’s arms. Rather than nestle against me, Bossy sprang from my hands and disappeared beneath the stairs. In my angst for information, I had repelled my own cat. I had nobody to blame but myself. I was full of worry about the man in the gray sedan and frustrated with the lack of information Wilson had revealed to me. Animals, like spirits, flee negative emotions. Bossy’s reaction reminded me that fear or anger would cause a spirit to retreat. Rendering the most powerful of spirits inert or unable to respond in the presence of such negativity. No wonder Wilson hadn’t heard from Jared.
I had my own answer. I put my hand on top of Wilson’s notepad.
“It’s guilt, Wilson. That’s why Jared hasn’t made his presence known.”
“His or someone else’s?” Wilson asked.
“I’m not sure.” I paced the room. In order for a spirit to communicate with a mortal, there had to be trust, and Jared had every reason not to trust those closest to him. I paused at the window and tapped my finger against my lips. “However, I do believe we’re about to find out.”
“Another psychic prediction?” Wilson held his hands up and shook them.
“More like a caller,” I said. Outside Amy was coming up the walk. My heart quickened. “And I do believe she has something to share with us, something you may find helpful.”
I took five deep cleansing breaths, a trick I used to clear myself of my negative emotion, and answered the door.
Amy looked better than I had expected. Her shoulder-length, blonde hair was neatly combed, parted in the middle, and she had put on makeup to brighten her cheeks. She was wearing a mid-length yellow summer shift that camouflaged her barely-there baby bump. A dress I suspected she had planned to wear on her honeymoon. The color was good for her.
“I’m so glad you’re home. May I come in?”
“By all means,” I said. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Wilson slipped from behind me and into the living room. Bossypants, forever the curious calico, was at his heels.
“You have a cat?” Amy went directly t
o the couch, and Bossy jumped into her lap.
“She must have been hiding when you were here last,” I said. “She’s not always so welcoming of strangers.”
Amy snuggled Bossypants to her cheek and stroked her. “I love cats. I guess you could say I’m a cat person.” Bossypants pressed her head against Amy and purred while Amy scratched her ears. “I would have come yesterday, but I couldn’t get away.”
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Okay, I guess. A lot’s happened since the memorial. The doctor offered to let me live in the guest house after the baby’s born.” Wilson and I exchanged a knowing look. “He’s even changing Jared’s trust fund and naming the baby as the beneficiary.”
“That’s good news,” I said. I measured my words carefully. Based on my conversation with Carlene, I was suspect of the doctor’s motives. I didn’t want to appear surprised or least of all shocked.
“Of course, Dr. Conroy will be the executor until the baby’s old enough to inherit. But if he dies before then, the doctor’s named me as executrix. And he’s planning to give me a monthly allowance. He said the mother of his grandchild shouldn’t be scraping by, trying to make ends meet as a single mom working as a barista.”
“That’s very generous of him,” I said.
“I guess, but then, Jared always said the doctor could be a very unpredictable man.” Amy looked down and stroked the cat. “It’s just—”
“What?” I leaned forward and put my hand on Amy’s knee. There was more she wasn’t telling me.
“I don’t know. I just never expected any of this. In a way, I feel guilty.”
And there it was. Guilt. My eyes met Wilson’s. Guilt not only blocked Jared from reaching out to Amy, but also stifled Amy’s ability to share with Jared her own grief and truth. The one constant that would have allowed them both to move on.
I ventured forward. “Because you didn’t want to marry him?”
Amy’s hands froze on Bossy’s back, and her eyes began to fill with tears. “How did you know?”
“Lots of brides have doubts.” I handed her a tissue. “It’s not unusual. When you told me you’d misplaced the ring, I suspected it was more than just bridal jitters.”
THE HOUSE THAT VANITY BUILT Page 9
