After they left, Melba and Toby indulged in a moment of stunned silence, before he gave a big sigh. “Oh boy, we’re in big twouble.”
Melba could only nod in agreement. They paid the bill, then walked out into the early spring sunshine. Melba stopped and took another look at the picture of Lucy Escabar, now taped to the glass door. She shivered involuntarily, and pulled her jacket close. “It’s cold out this afternoon.”
Toby grimaced in agreement. He hated it when the temperature dropped below seventy-five degrees and today, it hadn’t even hit fifty. He crossed his arm on his chest and jerked his head toward the building across the street. “We betta’ head on oveh dere. We have tings to do. Pwus, I have a supwise.”
“You have a surprise for me?”
“Uh huh.”
“A good surprise or a bad one?”
“You’ll see.”
They started across the street toward what had once been the Time Out Spa. New lettering on the window announced it was now the “Reightman & Bailey Agency.” The banner above the window stated they’d be open for business in another two weeks. Toby was right—they did have a lot to do between now and then. She just hoped his surprise was a good one. She’d had enough bad surprises to last a lifetime.
***
Toby dug around in his front pocket and pulled out his keys. Before unlocking the door, he turned to Melba and sternly commanded, “Cwose your eyes.”
She almost laughed at the contrast between his tone and the comically mangled words, but figured he wouldn’t appreciate it. She didn’t want to spoil his fun, and his speech was already a little better. Besides, he’d worked non-stop over the last few weeks to get the space ready for opening and was clearly excited to show her the results. She dutifully closed her eyes and waited while he opened the door.
She heard him flip on the lights before he took her by the hand and led her carefully through the space until she was positioned exactly where he wanted her.
“Okay, you can open dem.”
She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the wall behind the reception desk. It was now a dark, rich forest green instead of the soft, soothing color she’d grown used to over the last several months. Previously, a single large picture had been centered behind the counter—a photo of Toby as a young boy. Captured forever in black and white, the child gazed out to the viewer from his place on a high-backed wooden chair—arms folded across his chest and hair flopping forward onto his forehead. His mouth pouted, lower lip stuck out—much as Toby’s was today. The boy’s pale eyes were totally at odds with the rest of the pose. His mother had captured the image at the exact moment he’d been about to break into a grin, jump down from the chair, and hurry off to get into more trouble. Melba had been drawn to that photo from the first minute she saw it the night of Geri Guzman’s murder. Much later, Toby admitted to her that he’d briefly considered getting rid of it. One of her surprises was hanging next to it.
This new photo was also black and white, and was as large as the first. However, its subject was a young girl with curly dark hair barely confined by braids falling well past her shoulders. She was dressed in some wild approximation of western wear, complete with chaps and vest. Pinned to the vest was a shiny discount store star. She held a toy six-shooter in her hand, pointing it directly at the viewer while glaring out of the image with a take-no-prisoners expression. Melba felt tears well up in her eyes—the photo was of her.
She wiped the first tear away before it fell. “Where’d you get that?”
“Fwom Abby.”
“I should have known introducing you to my daughter would lead to all kinds of trouble.”
Toby tried to decide if her gruff tone was an indication of how she really felt. “You not mad abou’ ith, are you?”
To his relief, she laughed. “No—of course not! To tell you the truth, I’m a little surprised by how… right it looks hanging there beside your mother’s picture of you.”
“Yeah, I tot ith was perfect. We’re quite de pair.”
She smiled up at him. “Yes, Toby, we are.”
They stood in companionable silence until Toby broke the mood. “Wha’ do you tink of de west of dis woom?”
She turned slowly, taking it all in. The Time Out Spa had been decorated in cool, calm colors of blue and green, and the larger walls had been painted some sort of beige. The furniture had been cushy and comfortable and kind of retro. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve never recognized this as the same space. Other than the polished wooden floors and the large reception desk, everything was different. The accent walls were still green and blue, but of totally different hues. Instead of soft shades, they were now dark and moody—a forest green and a color reminding her of gray-blue tempered steel.
The cushy, inviting furniture was gone, replaced by a streamlined sofa and a grouping of chairs covered in dark navy leather. Angular and blunt end tables replaced the softly rounded, glass-topped tables which once greeted visitors to the spa. Now, the room was edgy. Not hard, but sharper and more defined. More grown up, maybe. Instead of hinting at relaxation and pampering, now it spoke of ability and a determination to get things done. “It’s almost a promise of some sort,” Melba decided. The only items contrasting with the new mood were the two photographs on the wall and the Zen-like fountain filling the space with the sound of gently falling water.
“Well?”
She turned back to her new partner, noting the worry in his eyes and quickly deciding to chase that away first. “All I can say is, wow! You’ve been busy. I didn’t realize you were going to change things so much. It’s fantastic, but can we afford all of this?”
“It weally din’t cost too much. I had a cwedit at da used fuwniture pwace. When dey bought da spa fuwrnishin’s and fwixtures, I told dem to keep da money on account instead of witin’ me a check. When Madame Zhou spwung da idea of openin’ dis business on us, well…it seemed like da wight ting to do.”
“You had enough credit with them to manage all of this?”
“Yep, and more. SawahJune dwove a weally hawd bargain wit dere manager. She heped me wepaint all da walls, so dere wasn’t weally much more expense, except for da paint itself and a few new wollers and bwushes. I wanted it to be different dan…dan it was…before.”
She understood his need for change. The spa had been his dream, until the night he’d found his partner and former lover dead on a massage table in one of the back treatment rooms. After that night, things spiraled out of control, and she’d known first-hand how hard it had been for Toby to continue working here. She still woke up with nightmares from of those events herself and was frankly surprised he hadn’t burned down the whole damned building.
“I like it, Toby. This room is absolutely perfect! I shouldn’t be surprised, since you even made my dingy little condo almost inviting. Although, I have to admit, I still miss my couch. I should have never let you get your grubby hands on it.”
Toby hadn’t even attempted to hide his horrified reaction to her dismal living space. His first goal had been getting rid of that couch and consigning it to an ignoble end, possibly involving a bonfire in the country. Reluctantly, she’d agreed its cushions were sagging and worn, and she even admitted the plaid was awful. But, it had sheltered her through the long nights after her divorce and provided her comfort when things were almost too much to handle. Her new couch was a big improvement in terms of looks, but didn’t feel like it belonged to her yet. For one thing, it was just too nice.
Toby gave her a grin with an indecipherable twinkle in his eyes. “Wan’ ta see da west?”
“There’s more?”
“Yep, dere is.” He led her to the hallway leading to the back. He flipped on the hallway lights, and she looked around, feeling a small sense of disappointment. Other than the color of the walls, it looked pretty much like always. She peeked in the breakroom, and found it pretty much the same, too, although, its walls had also been painted.
“I didn’t do muc
h in dere,” Toby explained. “Dere wasn’t much need. I left da wocker wooms awone too. It would cost too much ta wip dem out and we have more dan enough space as it is, at weast for now.” He continued down the hall, and she stuck her head into the open door leading to what had once been his office. To her surprise, it was empty except for a couple of large lateral filing cabinets and some shelves.
She didn’t comment, although she wondered where he was going to work, and what he had planned for her. Not that it mattered—anything would be an improvement over the beat-up metal desk she’d used for years as a detective on the city’s police force. Toby opened the door to what had been the smaller of the two treatment rooms, and turned on the lights before ushering her in.
This room was now dominated by a large conference table, surrounded by eight chairs covered in the same navy blue leather as the furniture in the reception area. The framed prints from the back treatment room had been reused in here, and the images of leafy foliage added some life to the walls. The cabinets and counter which once held towels and lotions had been left alone, although the counter now held a rather large, intimidating coffee maker and the cabinets contained an assortment of matching coffee cups and crystal glasses which would be used to entertain clients or business associates—when they got to that point. The idea of it all caused her to stop dead in her tracks and blink.
Melba took a deep breath and shrugged to loosen the tension in her shoulders. “This is suddenly starting to feel very real.”
He grinned ruefully. “I know. I tot de same ting when I was finishin’ tings up yestewday.”
She looked around the room one more time, thinking about how much he’d done. “Now I feel like a complete slacker. If I’d known you were going to be doing this much work, I’d have been down here helping.”
“You dealt with all da pape’work and twying to work through how we’d get our wicensing taken care of. I’d have been wost twying to figure dat out, so you did your fair share.”
He had a point. There’d been more paperwork than she’d ever imaged. Madame Zhou helped with the legal end of things, but if Melba saw even one more form in the next few days, she’d run screaming from the building. Still, that part was done. She’d hold the principle P.I. license for the business in her name, until Toby could get the education and training he needed under his belt. Until then, he’d technically be working as a registered employee of the agency, even though he was a part-owner of the business. Zhou Li had figured out a way to make it all legal and binding, so they were out of the woods as far as that was concerned, and they both could legitimately work in this state and the surrounding areas. That would do for now.
“Come on—dere’s still da back woom to see.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “I hope dat it’s okay.”
Curious about his comment, she followed him out of the conference room and back into the hallway. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then opened the door, turned on the lights, and ushered her inside.
This room now held two work areas, constructed out of modular office furniture. Although open to each other, they’d been positioned so the person working at either could interact as needed, yet still have a little privacy. A couple of rolling cork-covered boards could be used to pin up notes or photos, presumably of current cases. As she examined one, she found it could be turned around to reveal the whiteboard on the other side. Toby’s section of the room already held his collection of mementos, cartoons, and photos that had filled his old office. She recognized his Grams smiling out from one frame and noticed that next to it was a photo of Toby and Geri Guzman, sitting side by side on a set of steps and smiling down at the camera.
There were framed photos on her desktop as well: one of her daughter—Abby, one of her two granddaughters, and one…one of her and Sam Jackson. She ignored the shiver of goosebumps running across her arms and picked it up.
She and Sam were standing side by side with their arms thrown across each other’s shoulders. You could tell from the photo that Sam had been quite a bit taller than she—but then again, almost everyone was. They were looking at each other with obvious affection, and if she had to bet, she’d guess he’d just made some smart-ass remark. She could almost see the words forming on her lips; “Shut up, Sam!” It’d been their shtick from almost the first day they’d started working together.
“Toby…?” She broke off before her shaking voice could betray her.
He, of course, knew what she was asking. “Awice Jackson had it. I cawed her and towd her what I was wooking for, and she was more dan happy to hunt it down for me. She even had it fwamed for you...as a wemembwance. She and I both agweed dat it was only wight dat he should somehow be here with us.”
Melba turned away, embarrassed and frantically wiping away sudden tears.
“It’s okay to cwy, Melba. I’ve learned dat over da wast few months. Dr. Edmondson says dat is one of da ways we heal ourseves.”
Toby had decided to get some help coming to terms with everything that had happened. From his comment, and the calm assurance in his words, she knew his sessions with Dr. Amanda Edmondson were beginning to bear fruit. She nodded and scrubbed the last bit of moisture from her eyes, before setting the photograph carefully down on the desk, adjusting it until it was just right. Giving the new rolling chair the once over, she pulled it out from underneath her desk and took a seat. “Wow. This is pretty comfortable!” she commented with approval. “It’s certainly better than what I was used to before.” Melba gave it a pleased little spin, and as she turned, her mouth dropped open. Positioned on the wall behind her was her old couch. Or at least, she thought it was her old couch—somehow given a miraculous face lift.
“Is that my…?”
“Yep. I had a fwiend webuild it. He we-worked de spwings and made some new cushions. I tink he was pwetty disgusted dat I wanted to keep de awful pwaid upholstewy. I did cave and let him make a few new thwow piwows, hoping dey’d tone down da pwaid.”
Reightman got up from her chair and slowly walked over to the old beast. She moved one of the throw pillows out of the way, and cautiously took a seat. After bouncing to test the cushions, she tentatively snuggled back, stroking the horrible fabric a few times before kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet up under her.
Toby couldn’t decipher her expression as she simply stared at the walls, and the contemplative silence was too much to deal with. “Well? What do you tink?”
Reightman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She thought about everything Toby had done to get the place ready, and about the mountain of paperwork she’d bludgeoned her way through over the last couple of months. Together, they were making a new beginning here, and she thought that was a very good thing. They both deserved it. Hearing Toby’s question—with all of his hope and vulnerability clear in his voice—she knew she didn’t have a single regret about agreeing to this crazy plan of opening a business together. That sneaky old lady across the street had been right. She opened her eyes and gave a happy sigh, then looked at Toby—friend and partner—standing a few feet away in their new office. “You know, I think…it feels just like home.”
***
Lucy woke up in a dark, scary place. She didn’t know where she was, but knew she wasn’t home, safe with her mama and her little brother, Hector. She sat up on the hard cot, feeling tired and sick in her tummy, like she’d eaten something she wasn’t supposed to. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened.
Once school was out, she’d taken the short-cut through downtown with her new best friend, Jessica. Mama didn’t like it when she did that, but the wind had been cold, and she’d forgotten her sweater at school. Mama wouldn’t be happy when she found out, because Lucy was always forgetting stuff. They’d been passing the big office buildings when Jessica’s daddy had pulled up beside them.
He’d rolled down the windows of his big car and whistled. “Hey, pretty girls! Want a ride?”
Jessica laughed in delighted surpri
se and ran up to the front passenger side door and opened it. “Come on, Lucy!” she called. “Come to my house for a while. Daddy will take you home later.”
Lucy hesitated because her mama always warned her not to get in cars with strangers—especially men she didn’t know. But, Jessica’s father wasn’t exactly a stranger, and Jessica was her very best friend in the whole world. Except for her mama, and maybe, Hector.
“Come on, Lucy!” her friend shouted again and then climbed into the front seat. Lucy decided it wouldn’t hurt to go to Jessica’s for a while. There wouldn’t be anyone at her house because Mama was working her second job and Hector would still be at daycare. He was too little to be left alone, but Lucy was a big girl. She was already eight years old, which Mama said was old enough to stay by herself as long as she was careful and didn’t try to cook anything or let anyone into the apartment. Eight was old enough not to be afraid. Lucy was very proud her mother trusted her.
Jessica shouted for her once more, so she ran to the big car and opened the back door and got in. She carefully buckled her seat belt as Mama had taught her, and Mr. Fields pulled away from the curb.
They arrived at Jessica’s big, fancy house and played with Jessica’s new doll, Lauren, for a while, but Jessica said it was boring and decided they should watch a DVD instead. Lucy really didn’t care, but she’d thought Jessica’s doll was very pretty with eyes that opened and closed and a lot of bright yellow hair. She’d carefully put Lauren back on the shelf with the others and followed Jessica to the room she called the den. Lucy didn’t have a den in the apartment where she lived. There was just a small living room with the attached eating area, and one bedroom, which she shared with Hector. Mama slept on the couch since there wasn’t anywhere else for her to sleep. Sometimes, when Lucy was scared, Mama would crawl into bed with her, and Lucy would snuggle close, content and happy.
Skin Puppet Page 3
