by Ball, Donna
She took another breath. “It was my fault.” She glanced apologetically at her husband. “I didn’t tell Alex I was taking diet pills. I had to drop some weight for this new role, and I had to do it quickly. I shouldn’t have had the champagne, but it was a tradition and…” She looked at him with big wet eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”
He remained impassive.
The inspector prompted, “So you went diving after mixing diet pills and champagne.”
She nodded, looking ashamed. “It was stupid, but my judgment was impaired. I didn’t realize how fast I was using up my air until it was almost gone. After that it’s all a blur. I know Alex tried to help me but I was terrified, my heart was going like a freight train, I thought I was dying. I lost Alex. I didn’t have a dive light. All I could think to do was to ditch my equipment and try to surface. But I didn’t know where the surface was.”
A long silence while she, presumably, relived that horrible night. This was the second time I had heard the story, though from vastly differently points of view, in a very short time, and the only thing I knew for certain was that it would take an act of God to ever get me in scuba equipment.
Finally the inspector said, “One presumes you did, eventually, find the surface.”
She nodded, too emotional to speak.
“Why didn’t you call for help? You could not have been far from the boat.”
“I didn’t see it at first. There was chop, and I was exhausted, all I could do was tread water and try to get my strength back. I heard the emergency claxon and I tried to call out for help. My voice was too weak, and the current kept pulling me farther and farther away from the boat. Eventually I had to swim with it just to stay alive. I swam until I saw the lights of shore, and I let the tide carry me in. The next thing I remember I woke up in a bed in this little beach cottage, with this French woman trying to get me to drink some juice, still wearing my dive suit… I think her husband had found me that morning on the beach but…” she smiled apologetically, “my French is not very good. I didn’t realize how much time had passed, but I was terribly weak and dehydrated. I slept off and on for a long time. The better part of two days, I guess. ”
It sounded like the plot to a movie. In fact, I think I had seen it.
Apparently I was not the only one who was thinking along those lines, because there was definitely a note of skepticism in the inspector’s voice as he said, “And I assume if we attempt to find this good woman and her husband, there will be no problem doing so?”
She looked faintly hurt. “I can’t imagine there would be. I intend to return myself later today with some gifts to thank them for their kindness. You’re welcome to come along.”
The inspector did not look up from jotting down his notes. “And this household did not possess a telephone?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded a little defiant now. “I didn’t ask. All I know is that I was desperate to get back here. I knew Alex would be frantic. As soon as I was able to stand, I asked the gentleman to drive me home. He had a jeep. He took me to the house, and the housekeeper told me what was happening here. Of course I came as soon as I changed.”
And shampooed and blow-dried that gorgeous hair, and applied make up to be ready for the cameras, and polished her nails. I knew I was thinking what everyone else in the room was thinking: if her story could be sold by the truckload, it would fertilize every lawn on the island.
I said, apropos of absolutely nothing, “Cocoa must have been glad to see you.”
Okay, so I knew perfectly well it was not my place to say anything, particularly anything as ridiculously out-of-the-blue as that. But it was worth the scowl from the lawyer and the raised eyebrows from Miles to see her go, for a brief instant, off-script.
She stared at me. It was not a friendly look. “What?”
“Your dog,” I said helpfully. “Cocoa. He’s been insane without you. He must have been so happy to see you when you got back.”
She scrambled to recover from her confusion. “Well, of course. Of course he was. But no happier than I was to see him. Of course, the main thing on my mind was Alex, and all the confusion my disappearance must have caused. That was the main thing I was worried about.”
I said, “Well, I’m glad he made it home all right.”
She just stared at me.
I maintained my sweet smile. “Because he ran away last night and as of this morning he was still missing.”
Rachelle’s stare turned cold. “Excuse me,” she said. “Who are you?”
Susan spoke up. “He came home,” she said. “A few hours ago. Cocoa came home.”
Okay, so now I felt a little foolish. I said, “Oh. Well, that’s good. Great human interest story. Your dog comes home in time to greet your return from the dead. I’m Raine Stockton, by the way,” I added, answering her question. “I’m a huge fan of your work.” Among all the other lies that had been told in the past few minutes, this one seemed right at home.
The inspector turned his gaze from me back to Rachelle. “One more question, Madame, if I may.”
She composed herself and looked at him pleasantly.
“What is the name of this new film of yours?”
She started to answer, seemed to reconsider, and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She glanced at her husband, who remained impassive. Staring at her.
She looked back at the inspector, set her shoulders, and replied calmly, “Missing. The title of my new film is Missing.”
After that, really, there was nothing more to say.
~*~
Miles was tense and silent as we waited under the bougainvillea-laden portico for the rental car to be brought around. I ventured a glance at him. “I guess I should have stayed out of it.”
“Yes,” he agreed shortly. “We both should have.”
And then he glanced at me with a breath of apology. “Sorry, babe.” His hand caressed my back briefly, and dropped. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just pissed off in general. I don’t like being played. Again.”
I was a little confused by that. “Do you think that’s what Alex was doing? Playing you? Why?”
Instead of answering, he asked, “What was that about the dog, anyway?”
I said irritably, “That woman spent the past two days in a hotel room somewhere on the other side of the island, and if you want my opinion, Cocoa was probably with her. I thought I could trip her up if she didn’t know Cocoa had run away, and I almost did too. I mean, look at her. Look at me.” I gestured head to toe, and Miles did.
“Looking.” He smiled. “Feeling less pissed.”
I ignored that for the sake of making my point. But I did like the way he smiled. “My skin is burned to a crisp, my hair is like a Brillo pad, even my eyes are a different color—and that’s just from a few hours playing in the surf while wearing sunscreen. There’s no way she lay passed out on the beach until some peasant family found her, much less lay unconscious from dehydration for two days. Could she even have swum to shore from the reef? How far is it? Who makes up stuff like that?”
Miles lifted one shoulder. “Maybe. If she’s supposed to be an Olympic-class swimmer, maybe she could do it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter whether it’s true. She could have said she spent the last two days in the belly of a whale and as long as the police can’t prove she didn’t, she’s off the hook.”
“All for a publicity stunt for a movie!” I shook my head in disgust. “Who does that?”
“Welcome to the glamorous world of the rich and stupid.”
The valet pulled up in the red Peugeot and bounced around the car to open the door for me. Miles pressed a bill into his hand and got behind the wheel.
“Do you really think Alex was in on this?” I asked as he pulled onto the narrow, crowded road that led back to the villa.
“He had to be, the cocky son of a—” A little yellow Smart Car darted in front of us and Miles blasted the horn. The other driver flung his hand out of the window wit
h a universal sign that did not mean I’m sorry. Miles barely seemed to notice, scowling behind his sunglasses over matters of much more import. “That’s why he wasn’t worried about being arrested. He probably planted the damaged regulator himself, just to add drama to the story. I’m guessing they had the whole big reveal lined up for that wake Amanda was planning for Wednesday, but when the police took Alex in yesterday, they had to move the timetable up. If they had pulled this in the US, they’d have a line out the door trying to sue them by now. Probably why they didn’t try it there.”
I said, “Funny that Alex would go to all this trouble to help promote her movie when she was getting ready to divorce him.”
“Maybe this was her condition for staying with him.”
“Maybe. It’s just that—well, if Rachelle Denison is already Hollywood royalty, what does she need a stunt like this for? Isn’t promoting a movie usually something a producer does?”
He was thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah.” Then he reached across the console and squeezed my knee. “Do you want to make me very happy? Talk about something else.”
I said, “Okay.” But I was pretty sure he wouldn’t like my choice of topics. “What happened between you and Susan? Why did you divorce?”
I think it was at that moment I knew why I would never feel comfortable in a place like this, for all its glamour and pristine beaches and water so clear you could see the bottom. Sunglasses. The sun was so bright there was no room for shadows, but sunglasses concealed more than shadows ever could. I would have given all I owned at that moment just to see his eyes.
He took his hand off my knee, presumably to make a turn, and he was silent for just long enough to make me think he might not answer. “Irreconcilable differences,” he said.
“After eight months?”
I felt, rather than saw the shutter close over his face. “I didn’t cheat on her, if that’s what you’re asking. I am now, and always have been, the perfect serial monogamist.”
I supposed that was what I was asking. Asked and answered, but I couldn’t let it go. “Did she cheat on you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then what—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Raine, what difference does it make? It was a long time ago. We were different people back then. I’ve had another marriage and a kid since then. I can’t even remember.”
That, I knew in the marrow of my bones, was a lie.
I turned my face to look out the side window. The traffic crept along the winding little hillside road. I kept remembering the way Susan’s face had softened when she first had seen him this morning. The way he had looked at her, and not Alex, during the press conference.
After a long time, he spoke again. “My first wife’s name was Cynthia,” he said. “It was an impulse military marriage, and lasted three years because I spent two of them in a war zone. Melanie’s mother was Therese. We got married because she was pregnant. It was all about passion with us, about pushing the boundaries, and it ended because she eventually pushed the boundaries too far and slept with another guy. It lasted five years, which was probably five years too long, but it gave me Mel and it was worth it. Susan was…” He hesitated, but still did not look at me. “Susan was a mistake. We should never have gotten married. We were friends, and probably should have kept it that way.” There was more, but he didn’t say it. What he didn’t say rang between us.
And, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to hear it. Perhaps because I was afraid that the unspoken truth would break my heart.
So I just smiled a little and said, “I could really use a nap before dinner. This has been the most exhausting vacation I’ve ever been on.”
He seemed to relax marginally. “And it’s only Day Two.” He glanced at me. “Are we okay?”
Another quick smile. “Yeah, sure. Everything’s fine.”
I was getting good at convincing people of that. Maybe one day soon I’d even be able to convince myself.
~*~
EIGHT
While Miles put the car away, I followed the sound of voices through the house and out to the pool deck to discover my dog making an absolute fool of himself over the fellow who had introduced himself as Rick, Cocoa’s dog walker. Rita and Melanie were chatting with him while Cisco, flat on his back and splay-legged, enjoyed the ecstasy of a chest rub. I stopped, surprised, and said, “Hi. This is weird. I just had drinks with your boss.” And more, a lot more, which, if they had had the television on they would no doubt already know. Clearly they had not.
Rick stood up, and Cisco rolled over, got to his feet, and trotted over to me, tail wagging affably. I dropped to my knees and hugged him, burying my face in the sweet sunny golden smell of him, loving the wriggling enthusiasm with which he greeted me, the shape of his muscles, the silk of his fur, even the smell of his hot-dog scented breath. Grounding myself in him for even those few seconds took away all the ugliness, shock and stress of the previous two hours, gathering up the negativity like a magnet gathers metal shavings. That’s what dogs do, that’s why we love them. They make bad things go away. I couldn’t help thinking about Rachelle, coming home after a two-day absence—even if it hadn’t been the near-death experience she had professed—to the dog she loved. Would her reunion with Cocoa after two days have been any less enthusiastic than mine was with Cisco after an absence of only two hours? Yet she had barely seemed to remember it.
“Hey, Raine,” Melanie said excitedly, bounding to her feet. “Rick came looking for Cocoa. I told him Cisco was a search and rescue dog and that he could probably find him in no time flat, but Grandma said I should ask you first. So what do you say? Can we take Cisco out searching? Did you bring his gear?”
I stood up, looking at Rick, thoroughly confused now. “Oh,” I said. “I thought he had come home. That’s what Susan said.”
He looked startled, then recovered quickly. “Really? That’s great news. I hadn’t heard.” He laughed a little uneasily. “I guess we can call off the search.”
Melanie looked disappointed. “Too bad. Cisco could’ve found him in a flash.”
I told Melanie, “Probably just as well. Cisco’s on vacation, and I’m really not sure he’s licensed to work in the French West Indies.”
She saw the quirk of my smile, and grinned back, patting Cisco’s shoulder. “Maybe next time, dude,” she told him, and she cheered. “Say, that means Cocoa and Cisco can have their play date after all! We’re going to the beach after dinner. Why don’t you bring Cocoa down?”
Rick said, “I don’t know. I’d have to check with Mr. Barry.”
I was dying to tell my news, but Melanie went on happily, “Raine, wait until you see the new trick I taught Cisco. We’ve been working on it all afternoon. Watch this.”
She took a step back, held up her palm, and said, “Cisco, high five!”
Cisco, standing between Melanie and me, almost knocked me over in his enthusiastic leap onto his back legs. He swiped at Melanie’s hand with his paw, missed, and bounced down on all fours. She tried again. “High five!” and this time she stepped closer, so that when Cisco jumped up his paw automatically hit Melanie’s hand. She was really getting good at this, and I applauded them both, laughing, while Melanie rewarded Cisco with a hot dog treat.
“Good job!” I exclaimed. “Both of you.”
“Want to see it again?”
“I do,” I assured her. “But first, I wanted to tell you all something.”
I took a breath, looking from Rita to Rick, enjoying my moment of importance. “Cocoa’s not the only one who came home,” I said. “You won’t believe who just showed up at Alex Barry’s press conference. His wife. Turns out Rachelle Denison wasn’t dead after all.”
Rita whipped off her sunglasses and sat up straight. “What?”
Melanie said, “You mean the drowned lady didn’t drown? Hey, maybe she was a werewolf after all! Cool.”
Rita said, “Are you serious? After two days? How is that possible?”
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But Rick just stood there, looking astonished. When he noticed my gaze on him he managed, “I—is that right? That’s wonderful news. For Cocoa. And Mr. Barry. He must be so relieved.”
Rita demanded impatiently, “Raine, really! Don’t keep us in suspense! What happened?”
I turned my gaze from Rick back to Rita. “She says she washed up on a beach somewhere and has spent the past two days being nursed back to health by a French couple, but the prevailing theory is that it was all a publicity stunt for her new movie.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Rita sank back onto her lounge chair and replaced her sunglasses with a look of contemptuous disbelief on her face that mirrored my own. “These people will stop at nothing.”
There was a plate of nibbles and a frosty pitcher of what looked to be pink lemonade on the table under the shade. I helped myself to a date stuffed with gorgonzola. Fabulous. I noticed a cellophane-wrapped package tied with paw print ribbon next to the snack platter and picked it up.
“Actually, that’s the main reason I stopped by.” Rick stepped forward, making what appeared to be a valiant effort to recover his equilibrium. “Things were a little, well, hectic when I was setting up and I forgot to leave that. Deer antlers,” he explained as I examined the contents through the cellophane. “Dogs love them, but be careful not to let him chew them all at one time. Also, there’s a card listing our services. Dog walking, pet sitting, day care, even grooming and massage sessions, all part of the service. Any time you’re going to be gone for the day, just give me a call and I’ll be happy to come by and let him out, or take him on a run, whatever you like.”
Melanie put a possessive hand on Cisco’s head. “We never leave Cisco. He goes everywhere we do.”
