The Case of the Stained Stilettos

by Smith, Melissa J. L

  Mercy, in a much quieter voice that she was using before, addresses Mark and Wesley quietly. “I assume that both of you know Sal Caggiano?”

  Wesley nods as Mark responds. “Sal’s my best friend. He catered the party tonight.” Mark pauses for a moment. “Did you say something about the police?”

  “Before we continue, Wesley, may I speak to you in the foyer for a moment?” asks Francesca.

  Francesca and Wesley leave the library while Joseph tries to break the bad news to Mark as gently as possible. “We believe that the police may be here soon. I’m sorry, Mark. Sal Caggiano died tonight.”

  Mark replies, incredulous, “Don’t be ridiculous. He and Beth catered the party. I just saw him a few hours ago.”

  “It’s possible we’re mistaken,” Joseph says, “but I don’t think so. What about Beth? Do you know when she left?”

  Francesca re-enters the library, alone. Wesley is nowhere in sight.

  Chapter 52

  Mark, stunned at the news that Sal might be dead, starts to ramble, not answering Joseph’s question. “Beth? Beth Luker, Sal’s party planner. My ex-girlfriend, before I proposed to Susana. Beth is engaged to Sal now. At least they were engaged before she made that pass at Blaine tonight in front of half the people in the industry. Now, who knows…”

  Mercy concurs, “It was a very blatant pass.”

  Mark replies angrily, “Yes, it was, and Blaine’s an idiot for letting it happen. Did everyone hear it over the speaker?”

  Francesca says, “I’m afraid so. Mark, I have to ask — do you have any reason to suspect that Beth or Susana or both might be having an affair with your stepfather? I’ve never seen two women go after one man like that in my life, especially in front of such a large group of people. Tonight was one of the more uncomfortable evenings of my life, and that’s saying a lot.”

  Mark’s shoulders slump. “To be honest, Francesca, I have no idea at this point. What on earth would cause either one of them to act like that in front of Mom’s friends? Do they hate Mom that much?”

  Francesca says, “I heard they’re both in Blaine’s class. Surely they aren’t like those actresses who believe that any publicity is better than no publicity?”

  “I honestly don’t know what’s going on. Nothing turned out the way I thought it would tonight.” Mark pauses, deep in thought.

  Mark looks up as the gravity of Sal’s death finally hits him. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here? And how do you know about Sal?”

  Joseph explains, “Francesca wanted to find your mom before she had an accident and hurt herself or someone else, so when we left the party, we went to look for her.”

  Mercy continues, “We drove by mutual friends’ houses and places where we thought she might go, like The Vinery, but we didn’t see her car anywhere. Since we were so close, we decided to check Blaine’s classroom at the college.”

  Joseph says, “There was a light on in Blaine’s classroom. Sal was on the floor, already in a bad way. We called an ambulance and they took him to Cedars. I’m afraid he died on the way. I’m very sorry, Mark.”

  Mark asks, “Sal was at school? He must have been looking for Beth or changing his uniform ... Was Beth there? She disappeared into the dark earlier, and I haven’t seen her since. Thank goodness Helen and Carmella supervised the party cleanup or we’d still have people and a mess sitting outside in the rain.”

  Joseph says, “We didn’t see anyone else at the school. Why would Beth be there?”

  “Blaine lets Sal’s catering staff use the dressing room to store their street clothes when they change into their uniforms. I think he may have some other stuff stored in there, but nothing of any value, I’m sure. Could someone have thought something was important and broken in to steal it?” asks Mark.

  “There were two muggers in the parking lot when we got there,” says Mercy.

  “Oh no!” worries Mark. “Is that who killed Sal?”

  Mercy reassures him. “No, we don’t think so. There’s been no autopsy yet, so we’re a little short on information.”

  All heads turn at the sound of the garage door opening and closing.

  Mark calls out, “Mom, is that you? Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick! You shouldn’t have tried to drive.” Mark heads for the door, but hears Blaine’s voice, not Dana’s.

  “It’s me, Mark. Is your mother not home yet? Has anyone heard from her? I’ve been driving around for hours looking for her,” calls out Blaine.

  Blaine enters the library and stops short when he sees Joseph, Mercy and Francesca. He looks terrified, not knowing why they are there and fearing for Dana’s safety.

  “Where’s my wife? What’s going on?” Blaine demands.

  Francesca does not mince words. “Blaine, we’re looking for Dana. Do you have any idea where she is or why Sal Caggiano was in your classroom tonight?”

  Blaine’s story about the classroom concurs with Mark’s. “Sal is Mark’s friend and one of my better acting students. He stores his caterers’ uniforms in our dressing room.”

  Blaine reaches into his pocket for his keys and turns to leave. “I’m sorry to be rude, but I have to go back out to look for Dana. Mark, where did you look, so I don’t waste time going back there?”

  Mark stops Blaine. “Slow down, Blaine. I think you’d better listen to Francesca. Sal had a seizure at school. In your classroom.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Blaine says distractedly, still trying to leave. “I didn’t even know he suffered from epilepsy. Don’t worry about Sal. He’s a tough guy. He’ll be fine. I really need to go back out to look for Dana.”

  Francesca raises her voice to get through to Blaine. “Blaine, sit down! Sal will not be fine! He died on his way to the hospital and we need to work together to find Dana before the police do!”

  After a moment of stunned silence, Blaine looks at Francesca and Mercy and asks, “What does Dana have to do with Sal having a seizure?”

  Francesca says, “We don’t know, but we need to speak to her.”

  Blaine starts pacing back and forth with his fingers on his brow. It is 2:15 a.m., and nothing is making sense.

  “The radio …” Blaine says, trailing off.

  “What radio? What about it?” Francesca asks.

  “On the way home, I heard some idiotic story on the radio about Dana being turned down by a bartender at her own party.” Blaine is staring into space, thinking. Then he turns to Mark and within seconds, pandemonium ensues.

  “Mark, how drunk was your mother? Did she do something foolish because Sal turned down her advances?” screams Blaine.

  “You hypocrite,” Mark fires back. “Sal handled Mom better than you handled Susana and Beth or your legion of other female admirers.”

  “Don’t blame me!” Blaine shouts. “My extramarital sex life lives only in your mother’s imagination!”

  “And your non-stop flirting is a mirage? It makes her so insecure that you’ve turned her into a drunk and a drug addict!” replies Mark.

  “Oh, yes. If not for me, your mother’s life would be perfect? I suppose that you think that your mother is a saint!” screams Blaine.

  “Mom’s no saint, but she loves you ... for some reason I cannot fathom.” Mark grabs Blaine and shoves him toward the pier mirror where Dana checks for new wrinkles every day.

  Screaming, Mark forces Blaine to look at the reflection. “You see this mirror, Blaine? Mom practically lives in front of this thing, thanks to you. She spends hours checking every wrinkle, every sign of gray hair, all because of you and your younger women.”

  Blaine spins around and gets in Mark’s face. “Egad, you are so dramatic! For the last time this evening, there are no other women! No younger women! No older women! No women of any age! The only woman in this world that I want is Dana Montgomery!”

  Mark screams, “Liar!” at Blaine, and the two men lunge at each other.

  Joseph and Mercy are on it. Joseph grabs Blaine around the sho
ulders to restrain him while Mercy nimbly trips Mark, who falls to the floor. Mercy presses firmly on the back of Mark’s hand with her stiletto toe to make her point. She then offers Mark a hand with getting up.

  Mark rejects her hand and scrambles to his feet, then gets in his stepfather’s face. “Can’t you see how Mom has been falling apart, Blaine? She’s so worried about losing you that she’s wasting her life staring at her own reflection!”

  When Blaine says nothing, Mark’s anger reaches a boiling point. He grabs a Lalique vase and hurls it toward the mirror. Glass explodes all around the room as screams fill the air.

  Mercy makes a quick maneuver and drops Mark on the divan.

  “Idiot. Somebody could have been hurt. And if you don’t sit there, I guarantee that one of the people getting hurt will be you.”

  Mercy, weary of the fighting, angrily picks broken glass off of her clothes and throws it toward Mark, muttering, “What is it with this family and flying glass?” Blaine looks at the shattered mirror and scowls at Mark, moving toward him as if to renew their fight.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” screams Francesca, stomping her feet, uncharacteristically intense. “If you two don’t want to be part of the solution, please stop adding to the problem.”

  Blaine and Mark choke back their disdain for each other. “I’m sorry, Francesca. We’ll table this discussion until we have Dana safely home,” says Blaine.

  Blaine turns to Mark. “Mark, please stay here in case Dana comes home. I’ll go check the school. Maybe she went to find me.”

  Blaine heads toward the door, but Joseph stops him. “I’d advise against going to the school, Blaine. The police will be there investigating Sal Caggiano’s death.”

  Blaine becomes frustrated, unaware of the evening’s events. “What does that have to do with Dana, or me, and how long does it take to investigate a seizure? I told you that I didn’t even know that Sal had epilepsy.”

  Joseph blocks Blaine’s exit and guides him to the couch. “That’s because you haven’t been listening. Sit down, so we can explain. Sal’s seizure could be from poison or it could be the result of an attack by strangers. You, Dana, Mark, Susana and Beth… all of you could be suspects in Sal’s death.

  “Blaine, any of your students who worked at the party or Dana’s professional or personal rivals could be responsible if Sal’s autopsy shows that he was murdered. Basically, anybody at the party is on the suspect list until they figure out what happened and why,” explains Francesca.

  Blaine hisses at Francesca. “You and Dana are rivals, Ches. Is that why you’re so busy looking for my wife? To divert suspicion from yourself?”

  Mercy explodes with indignation. Threatening to throw Blaine across the room in anger, Joseph intervenes.

  “Blaine, I suggest you not irritate my wife. She is a force to be reckoned with on any given day, and you just crossed a line. We are here to help, and we will find Dana before the police do and help her. But if I hear one more comment like that, I’ll be quite happy to let you and Mark get hung out to dry. It’s up to you,” says Joseph, quite irritated.

  “Why would the police want my wife? Why are the police even involved in a seizure death?” asks Blaine.

  Mark looks at Blaine. “How stupid are you, Blaine? Do you ever listen to anyone besides yourself? Sal isn’t epileptic. He may have been poisoned at the party!”

  A lightbulb goes off in Blaine’s brain as he sinks down into a nearby chair.

  “When gossip about the party goes viral and the police release the information that Sal may have been muttering Dana’s name in your classroom, we expect that she will be the prime suspect,” explains Mercy.

  Blaine looks up, shocked. “Sal was muttering Dana’s name?”

  Mercy looks down and says somberly, “We don’t know for sure. His words were garbled, and we know now that he was dying. But it sounded like he was trying to say Dana’s name.”

  Blaine holds his head in his hands and stares at the floor.

  Joseph says, “Could Dana have gone to a friend’s house? Should we start calling around to see if we can find her?”

  Blaine shuts that idea down immediately. “Absolutely not!” he says, almost shouting. “I’m sure Twitter is buzzing already!”

  Realizing that he has just come on too strong, Blaine changes course, turns on the charm, and directs it toward Mercy. “I’m sure we can come to some other way to resolve this,” he says as he leans in close, flirting. “There’s no need for so much bad publicity, it there?”

  Joseph looks at Blaine in disbelief. “What’s more important? Finding Dana or avoiding the tabloids? And while you’re at it, get your slimy charm away from my wife, or she won’t be the one tossing you across the room.” Blaine looks stung, but not chastened, at having been so transparent.

  Mark says, “You guys know how the press is. Mom may have realized how drunk she was and pulled over to sober up. She rarely blacks out and she always comes home. If Mom checks Twitter or Facebook while she’s parked somewhere, she may panic and do something stupid. She wasn’t with Sal. I’d bet my Ferrari on it.”

  “How can you be so sure, Mark? Sal was mumbling words that sounded like Dana’s name when the paramedics came,” asks Joseph.

  Mark says, “I don’t know, Joseph. All I know is that Mom would never hurt Sal. They’re friends. She adores him.”

  Joseph snorts, still peeved at Blaine’s pass at Mercy. “I noticed how friendly they were when I was near the bar. Is flirting a family tradition?”

  Blaine retorts, “Possibly. Doesn’t your family have any traditions?”

  “Yes. Solving crimes. Now do you want to help or not? It’s late and we still have a lot of ground to cover, plus I’m tired from all the histrionics. She’s your wife, not mine.”

  Blaine looks around the room, defeated “My sincere apologies. Please help. I want to protect Dana. We may not be Ozzie and Harriet, but we’re not bad people.”

  Mercy says, “We’ve wasted too much time already. We need to talk to Dana, but we should leave before the police arrive.”

  “We’ve already given the police the slip once tonight. If Dad or Uncle James sees Ches’s car out front, it’ll be bad.”

  Mercy says, “I suggest you dress for bed. If someone knocks, have Wesley answer the door. Try to make things look as normal as possible. Wait, where is Wesley?”

  Francesca says, “I asked Wesley to do me a favor. I’m sure he’s around or will be back soon.”

  Joseph whispers a compliment to Francesca. “Nicely done, ‘counselor.’ It also gives him plausible deniability about anything that was said. If you ever want to give up acting, and if you decide that you don’t want to work for Mercy, I’d be happy to recommend a good law school for you and you can go into practice with me.”

  Francesca beams her appreciation.

  Joseph turns to Blaine and Mark. “If Dana gets here before the police, sober her up so she won’t say more than she should. Don’t lie to the cops, but don’t volunteer information.”

  Mercy puts her bracelet on a front table along with her business card.

  “My card has all our numbers. I wore this bracelet to the party tonight. It was designed for me by Fred Leighton and since he has passed away, I can’t replace it. So please … keep it safe. When Dana comes home, call me and say that you have my bracelet. Nothing else.”

  Joseph says, “That way, you won’t have to lie in front of anyone who may be listening.”

  Francesca says, “We really must go now.”

  Mercy, Joseph, and Francesca exit through the front door, leaving Blaine and Mark staring at each other in a quiet truce.

  Chapter 53

  Francesca drives Joseph and Mercy around, looking at every remaining place she thinks Dana might be. Finally, she cruises down Sunset toward the Luce home, and her car’s clock reads 4:45 a.m. She says, wearily, “You said that boy smelled like almonds. Doesn’t cyanide smell like almonds?”

  Joseph answers, “Frequent
ly, yes. Or maybe it was the Lusty Wench cocktail that Sal created. It has amaretto, and amaretto smells like almonds.”

  Mercy ponders this. “A Lusty Wench cocktail? Think it was named after Dana?”

  Joseph puts his arm around his very tired wife. “I wouldn’t know. She’s not my type.”

  Mercy smiles a sweet, exhausted smile. “Don’t worry, honey. I know that Dana is every man’s type.”

  Francesca concurs. “She always has been. I just wish those charlatans who used to run the fan magazines when we were starting out hadn’t put such a dent in her self-esteem.”

  Mercy says, “Mom, we’re only two blocks from our house. Why don’t you stay with us tonight? Or for what’s left of tonight, anyway. Pretty sure the LAPD will have your house staked out by now. There’s no way you’ll get back into your place without being spotted.”

  Francesca worries, “Neither Blaine nor Mark has called. I guess Dana never made it home.”

  “Or neither of those two idiots were paying attention to my instructions,” says Mercy.

  Francesca navigates her car down a nearby street to look for surveillance vehicles. She hopes she is far enough away to remain unnoticed.

  James is still parked nearby, watching Ethan’s decoy Rolls parked in front of their house.

  “Well, you have to give Uncle James his props. He’s a stubborn man. Like a dog with a bone.”

  Joseph says, “Francesca, if you cut through the back alley three blocks down and turn off your headlights, there are enough streetlights for you to see how to get to our back entrance.”

  Mercy laughs, “When I’m not so tired, remind me to ask how you know that.”

  Francesca shuts off the lights and navigates the car to a silent stop in back of the Luce home. The three exit and sneak inside.

  After a couple hours of sleep, Joseph and Francesca sit at the table in robes and watch the early morning sun trying to fight off another rainy day.

  Mercy wanders in, yawning, and heads straight for the coffee. Her zombie-like state is interrupted by the doorbell, which seems to be ringing more loudly than usual.