Drop Dead Gorgeous

by Heather Graham

  He thanked Brad, and hung up. Sitting, he shook his head. “Lori, I’d like to go and talk to your son myself.”

  She stared at him a moment, about to protest. Then she shrugged. “Yes. I guess that would be right.”

  “It’s his first day of school. People might be talking about this.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get dressed. I have to get Brendan to school, then pick up my grandfather.”

  “You’ll be with your family?” he asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ve got to take care of some things. Call my publicist, some other people. You be careful.”

  He could tell by the way her hazel eyes met his—stubbornly—that she didn’t feel she was in any danger.

  “Lori, please be careful.”

  “I will be.”

  “I intend to solve this, not you.”

  “What could I do?” she asked innocently. Then she turned quickly, and left him.

  He went upstairs, and tapped on Brendan’s door.

  “Maybe we should wait on this now,” Jan told Brad.

  “What?” Brad demanded.

  “Well, this is going to be a rough day for Sean—”

  “And what the hell can we do about it? I think he should sue the bloody paper. Jan, something is always going to happen in life. I’ve got the hotel reservation. I’ve—” He broke off. Jan was in the bathroom in a black dress and little pillbox type hat with a veil.

  “What in hell are you doing?” he demanded.

  She flashed him a nervous glance. “I don’t want anyone to recognize me, I don’t want to be conspicuous—”

  “Honey, trust me, you are conspicuous in that hat. You look like my grandmother.”

  “What? You mean that isn’t one of your fantasies?”

  “No, it’s not,” he said sourly. “People will notice you, and remember you, in that outfit. Put on a pantsuit or something.”

  “I’ve got a blond wig.”

  He groaned. “Fine. Wear your wig. But not the hat. It looks like we’re going to a funeral.”

  “We may be going to a funeral again soon,” Jan informed him. “No one’s heard from Sue yet, and Ted seems to be uneasy about something.”

  “I spoke with him on the phone last night,” Brad said, feeling a little uneasy himself about the dead cat.

  “And?” Jan said.

  ‘He said that her purse is gone, her bag is gone, what else can he say? It looks as if she went away on a romantic tryst of some kind. There were a bunch of receipts from that sweet-smelling lingerie shop you all like so much on her dresser. Sounds as if she was planning something.”

  “But not to tell anyone…”

  “Jan, if you’re really trying to get out of this—”

  “No, I’m not. I said that I’d do it and I will.”

  Lori showered and dressed. When she came out of her room, she could still hear Sean and Brendan talking behind the closed door to Brendan’s room.

  She hesitated, then tapped on Brendan’s door. “Come in,” Sean told her, and she entered the room. Brendan was up, dressed for school. The newspaper lay on the bed between them.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to go soon.”

  “I’m ready,” Brendan said. He stood, and Sean did the same. Brendan picked up his backpack, then offered Sean his hand. “It wouldn’t have mattered what I heard, Sean. I haven’t known you that long, but I know that you didn’t kill that girl.”

  “Thank you,” Sean told him solemnly.

  Brendan grinned suddenly. “And you’re still welcome to date my mother.”

  “Well, thanks again.”

  Lori smiled, her eyes meeting Sean’s. “You’re no monster,” Brendan told Sean.

  Sean frowned at that. “I’m glad that you believe that, Brendan, but one of the scariest things in life is that monsters don’t always come with horns and tails and vampire teeth. There are monsters out there that are hard to recognize.”

  “I know that. But monsters are hideous inside, and lots of the time, no matter what’s on the outside of people, if you look hard enough, you can see the monster inside.”

  “You’ve got good vision,” Sean told him quietly.

  Lori smiled, proud of her son. “I’ll see you later,” she told Sean.

  “I’ll be out of here soon. I’ll lock up.”

  Brendan hurried down the stairs ahead of her, was out the door and into the car quickly. She followed him, and eased out into the street. Things were still quiet, the traffic still light at this hour.

  “You really all right with all this?” she asked him.

  He was looking straight ahead, hazel eyes level on the road. His hair was getting longish, and she felt a sudden sinking in the pit of her stomach as he brushed it back. The gesture was amazingly familiar.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I was just thinking… I feel so bad for you all. You weren’t much older than I am now when you had to face something so awful as the death of your friend—and then he was blamed for it!”

  Lori didn’t know exactly what Sean had told Brendan, but she was sure he had downplayed his experiences in the jail. “Bad things happen in life,” she murmured.

  “Makes you wonder why we go through it, huh, Mom?”

  She looked at him, perplexed. Then she smiled. “Because good things happen, too.” They were nearing the school. “Wow! Big place,” Lori said, worried. “It’s grown since I lived here.”

  “Things have changed since the dark ages, Mom,” he teased. “Don’t worry about me. I come from the Big Apple. Nothing’s too big for me.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll just jump out. Don’t park or anything—there, right there, that’s where everyone is getting out.” The school was on Lejeune, a major thoroughfare, but school-zone signs were posted everywhere, and it was true that all the cars ahead of her were dropping off in the same spot. She came to a stop and let Brendan off, and was proud again to see her son’s natural, easygoing confidence. If he was afraid, he wasn’t going to show it.

  She didn’t return home, but drove on to her parents’ house, dreading what awaited her. As she expected, her mother opened the door with a worried look. “Lori, dear—”

  “I know, Mom, I’ve see the newspaper. So has Sean.”

  “Well, I’m really trying hard not to make judgments—”

  “Then, don’t allow a newspaper reporter to make them for you, Mom!” Lori said with anger.

  “Sweetheart, I’m just thinking of Brendan.”

  “Brendan is fine.”

  Her father had come into the living room. He didn’t embrace her and kiss her; he kept his distance. “Lori, what if—just what if!—Suppose he did kill your friend Mandy in high school. He’s back in town, and suddenly Ellie Metz is dead, and now Sue Nichols is missing. What if you and Jan are next, have you thought about that?”

  She hadn’t. She drew her breath in sharply, and stuttered out an answer, “Sue is just missing, Dad.”

  “Yeah, but Ted was by here the other night, and he’s very concerned. She was supposed to be in this weekend to pay her mother’s bill at the nursing home, and she didn’t show. Sue is a devoted daughter, so Ted tells me. She never misses a visit with her mother, and she sure as hell never forgets to pay her bill!”

  Lori put her hands on her hips, feeling ill. “Maybe something has happened to Sue, but—”

  “Oh, sweetheart!” her mother interrupted miserably. “I don’t want it to be Sean, either. I like him, honestly like him.”

  “We’re just so damned scared for you, Lori,” her father said. “What if Sean is innocent, and it’s his brother—”

  “If Sean is innocent, why should it be his brother who is guilty?” Lori demanded.

  “Michael Black used to get into a lot trouble,” her mother said.

  “Kids do get into trouble.”

  “But you’re seeing so much of Sean and Michael.”

  “Yes, I am. And
don’t be worried about me. I’m okay. I promised Gramps some time out. Is he ready?”

  “Should be,” her mother said. “I’ll just—” she began, but broke off because the phone was ringing. “I’ll just get that, and check on Gramps.” She answered the phone on the desk, and looked at Lori. “For you,” she whispered. “Sean.”

  She arched a brow, and went to the phone. “Sean?”

  “Yeah. Can you stay with your folks tonight?”

  She frowned. “I’m sure I could. But why?”

  “An old friend of mine is in Palm Beach. I’m going to go see him this afternoon, and I may run late.”

  “Why don’t I come with you?”

  She heard his hesitation. “Lori, I told you—”

  “You want me safe, don’t you? I’ll be safe with you.”

  “Let me think about it. Call me at the hotel after you’ve gone out with your grandfather. But promise me, if we miss one another by any chance, you’ll stay with your parents.”

  “Sure.”

  Jan had never been so nervous in her whole life.

  Nor had she had ever been in such a hotel before. Heart-shaped whirlpool, heart-shaped bed, brass posts everywhere, pink sheets, heart-shaped champagne tray, heart-shaped chocolates.

  “I can’t imagine why they didn’t manage a heart-shaped champagne bottle,” she murmured to Brad.

  He dropped the little case bearing their toiletries and wandered over to where she stood by the Jacuzzi. He kissed her nape. “This is the best gift I’ve had in my entire life.”

  “It’s a one and only.”

  “I know. That’s all I want.”

  Jan hoped that was true.

  “Why don’t we get into the Jacuzzi?”

  “Sure.”

  Sure. She felt about as sexy as a watermelon; this was so awkward, and she still didn’t really know how it was going to work. Did they just introduce themselves to this woman: Hi, I’m Brad’s ex-wife, the mother of his child, and then, oh, yes, how do you do, I’m the prostitute he’s hired for the day, should we get right to it, or what?

  There was a soft knocking on the door, and Brad grinned, then went to answer it.

  Jan experienced a terrible moment of panic. Of course, she could still back out. She could back out until the very end.

  She turned around. The woman was in the room, a bosomy blonde who certainly looked the part, and yet…

  “Hi. I’m Muffy. Oh, a hot tub! Great, isn’t this place just too much? Champagne, definitely the right way to start. May I have a glass?”

  Brad was already fumbling with the bottle. Muffy didn’t get the first glass. Jan did. In fact, Muffy didn’t get a glass of the first bottle at all because Jan just drank straight from it and wouldn’t let it go.

  She drank the whole thing.

  Gramps was quiet as they drove. “Where are we going?” Lori asked him. “I think it’s a little too early for even you to head for a bar.”

  He arched a brow to her. “It’s never too early for really old, sick Irish Catholics to head for the bar, but no, I don’t want a drink, a breakfast place will be just fine.”

  They opted for Denny’s. The early crowd was gone, the place was slow. The waitress gave them coffee and took their order.

  “Okay, Gramps, what is it?” Lori asked as soon as the waitress had gone.

  He wagged a finger at her. “I may be old, and I may be sick, but I’m damned sure not blind as yet!”

  “All right, I don’t remember suggesting that you are.”

  “Other people aren’t blind, either.”

  “Gramps, what are you getting at?”

  “Brendan.”

  She felt as if she had been doused by a bucket of cold water. She inhaled, “Gramps, I don’t—”

  “Right. You don’t go taking me for a fool! His eyes are all Kelly, right enough, but you see him and Sean Black up close in the same room and…” He lifted his hands, shrugging.

  She sipped her coffee, feeling trapped, desperate, and really afraid.

  “When are you going to tell him?”

  She stared at her grandfather, about to hedge or lie again. “I don’t know. I was ready to just blurt it out when I first saw him again, but… but I don’t know. I missed the right moment. And now… well, now he’s just trusting me, and I’m really worried about what’s going on. I’m scared for Sue, really scared, and I’m scared for Sean just the same. He needs to trust someone right now, and if he discovers that I kept a secret like that… well, I didn’t mean to, Gramps, I really didn’t mean to, I tried to reach him before I fled to England, but his dad was never able to give him the message, and then it was as if he had just disappeared, all his family had disappeared, and I was alone, and I assumed he hated me, and… and I met Ian Corcoran, and he was my solution.”

  She sat back, biting her lower lip, suddenly glad that she’d confessed the truth to someone other than the friend and husband she had inadvertently met, sobbing her eyes out in a coffeehouse her first night in London. A folk group had been playing; Ian had been the singer/songwriter, and he’d been good. He’d seen her sitting there, seen her wiping her tears. And she’d talked, telling him that everything was so horrible she wanted to die, and he’d told her that no, she didn’t, he was dying, and it wasn’t easy, but neither was living—life itself was precious, to be cherished.

  There’d been a quiet strength about him, and after a week of friendship, she’d been glad of his solution.

  “I’ll marry you.”

  “That’s not fair to you. I couldn’t—”

  “It’s hardly fair to you. Because I am dying, and you’ll be with me, and it won’t be pretty.” It wasn’t pretty; and by the time he died, she had loved him with all her heart, despite the fact that their marriage had never been anything other than platonic.

  “Lori,” Gramps told her then, “I’m not telling you that you did anything wrong— hell, you were young, it was one hell of a bad situation! But I think you need to tell Sean Black that Brendan is his son. I can’t believe he hasn’t figured it out yet himself.”

  “We were only together once, Gramps.”

  “I told you, honey, I’m not judging you.”

  She nodded. “I’m going to tell him. But I am trying to pick the right time.”

  “I hope you get a ‘right time’ soon,” he told her. “Where is that waitress? I could use more coffee.”

  “She’s not as good as old Mickey at the pub, eh, Gramps?” Lori said. “Too bad we didn’t go there.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I could have used the drink today,” she said dryly.

  He grinned. “You’re going to be all right, girl,” he told her.

  She smiled, but felt an inward shiver. Was she?

  18

  It wasn’t half so bad as Jan had imagined.

  Of course, the champagne helped, but it didn’t matter.

  She drank a lot, and she was really lethargic by the time she somehow wound up in the ridiculous heart-shaped bed.

  Muffy suggested a blindfold, and delicate little scarves that tied her wrists to the brass bedposts. She didn’t really care at that point.

  Then it began…

  And it was just a blur of sensations and images. Brad’s voice, his whisper, so excited. His kiss… it seemed really good to kiss him… then she realized, dimly, that if he was kissing her lips, then the lips moving so seductively over her other, extremely intimate places, had to be…

  Didn’t matter, didn’t matter, had to be the champagne.

  And yet…

  Oh, God.

  It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t horrible, it was…

  Exciting.

  Arnie Harris had come down to Palm Beach on Saturday morning.

  “You didn’t need to come down here for me, Arnie,” Sean told him. “Anytime I need help, I call you, you know that.”

  “We’re not writing a book here, Sean. I’m not giving you hypothetical advice for a character. This is your life.
Besides, I didn’t come for you, I came for Maggie. She just loves this old hotel.”

  He and Maggie were staying at the Breakers, a majestic establishment built during the twenties, and still lording it over the houses in the area where presidents, princes, and the simply filthy rich had their winter homes.

  A fine strip of beach flanked the back of the hotel, and Sean walked it along with Arnie. They were both barefoot, pant legs rolled up, relaxed in their movements. But Arnie’s mind was far from idle, and Sean knew that his friend had come down just to be near him because of the Eleanor Metz thing.

  And now Sue was missing.

  “Maybe you’re not so paranoid,” Arnie said after a moment. “But if you’re not, it’s a terrifying thought.”

  “What is?”

  Arnie paused, squinting beneath the sun. “Say your old girlfriend Mandy was murdered. It might have been a spur-of-the-moment thing— hell, it must have been a spur of the moment thing. The girl in the water, the vine handy. So it wasn’t a premeditated murder, just a murder of convenience.” Arnie grimaced. “Murder… one, two, three, not planned, but easy. Young deviants don’t usually plan to throw rocks at dogs, drown kittens, rip the wings off butterflies. The creatures are just there, and…”

  “So he was losing it, Mandy was in the water, a vine was in the water… so he kills Mandy, but then waits?” Sean said. “And then this many years comes back for Ellie—and then Sue?”

  Arnie shook his head slowly. “He wasn’t waiting. Your Doctor Gillespie has been trying to convince the local police that there’s a serial killer in your midst. You looked at those bones yourself; you know what you’re doing. You don’t need me to tell you any of this, you just want some reassurances on what you’re thinking. The killer is good, really good. You want a profile? He lives alone, or is able to be alone, because he plans things out. He plans the occasions of his murders, and just where he’ll find his victims. He knows how to dispose of the bodies so that they’re usually almost totally decomposed before they’re found. No fingerprinting to be done—the last victim, your friend, however, was found. Maybe he wanted that to happen. Maybe he knew you were back in town and wanted people associating you with the murder. She was raped. Any blood, semen, anything?” Arnie asked.