Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay

by Cynthia Hamilton

  A semi-drunken roar went up as the waiters entered Cherie’s sitting room-slash-closet, where the party had obviously gotten off to an early start. Cherie’s entourage consisted of her hairstylist, makeup artist, costume designer, three girlfriends Madeline knew from her own days in the highlife, two of the videographers and the D.J.

  As Madeline walked into the room, Cherie rushed her, showering her with admiration and more of the unaccustomed affection she’d received earlier. Madeline put on her happy face while taking a reading on her client’s mental condition.

  “Slow down, girlfriend,” Madeline whispered as she stared into Cherie’s glassy eyes. “You don’t want to have to watch the video to find out how your birthday party turned out.” Cherie gasped as if offended, but even that response proved she was already too tipsy to care about anything.

  “I’ll make sure Philippe sends up some wildly delicious morsels. Be a good girl and eat some of them. Okay?”

  I guess I should’ve hired a nanny, Madeline thought as she extricated herself from the merrymakers, several of whom were trying to foist champagne on her. She spotted a bottle of mineral water and gratefully snagged it on the way out.

  EIGHTEEN

  “It’s open,” Vivian called out. Madeline let herself in and found the grande dame seated in a chair by the window, taking in the view of the koi pond. At this moment, her sitting room was the most tranquil spot on the estate.

  “How are you holding up, dear?” Vivian asked, indicating the chair across from her.

  “So far, so good,” Madeline said, a smile breaking across her face as she sat down. It was no wonder Vivian had sought refuge in her suite. Madeline drank in the comfort and solitude for a moment, knowing she wouldn’t have another respite for many hours. “Where’s Teresa?” she asked belatedly, turning around to scan the bedroom.

  “We decided it didn’t make sense for her to come out here until four o’clock. That way she can help me get all gussied up, and she won’t have to make two trips out here and back home.”

  “That makes sense,” Madeline said.

  “I also arranged for someone to pick her up and take her home. Can’t have her taking the bus! I can just imagine her trying to get through security on foot,” Vivian chuckled.

  “Good point,” Madeline agreed, her mind racing. There went Mike’s chance to follow her again. “Who’s going to fetch her?”

  “Shoreline Cab. The service I usually use seems to be a bit overwhelmed this weekend…” They both laughed.

  “So, this would mean you have an address for her now…” Madeline surmised.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Vivian said, reaching for a pad of paper on her side table. She tore off the top sheet and handed it to Madeline. 721 Chapala Street.

  Another bogus address, Madeline realized.

  “Unless she lives in a retail store at Paseo Nuevo, this is no good to us,” she said. Vivian’s smile faded, her mouth twitching pensively as she thought this over. At length, she let out a deep sigh.

  “She must be terrified of being deported,” she said, her gaze going to the window as she wrestled with the knowledge that her young companion carried a lot of secrets. Madeline could sense how torn the elderly star was: it had to be very heartbreaking to discover she couldn’t really trust the person she relied on the most.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Madeline said. “Call and tell her that because of the tightened security, no taxis will be allowed to drop off any guests. Tell her my personal assistant will pick her up at the address she gave you at four o’clock.” Vivian rose and went to the phone. Madeline coached her on what kind of car and driver Teresa should be looking for while the call went through.

  “Very good, dear. I’ll see you when you get here.” Vivian replaced the receiver slowly. “It’s all set, then.”

  “It’s going to work out fine. We’ll just make sure that Lauren gives her a ride home. Lauren is a very likeable chatterbox, but she’s also good at getting information out of people. At that time of night, she’ll convince Teresa to let her drop her off at home, where it’s safer. I’ve been meaning to ask you—are the missing jewels insured?”

  “Yes,” Vivian said as she headed unsteadily back to her chair. Madeline held out her arm and helped her across the room. “I always had a separate rider for them, but when I moved to the estate, Ross had them added to his insurance.” Madeline nodded thoughtfully. “You’re not suggesting I notify them yet, are you?”

  “That’s your call. I can understand how conflicted you are on all angles of this situation, but every day that goes by, the chances of reclaiming your jewelry diminish. But what I’m really wondering is if we can get our hands on some photos of what we’re looking for.”

  “That I can help you with,” Vivian said, her face brightening. “Be a dear and hand me that photo album on the right side of the bookcase…that’s it.”

  Vivian found three photos of her wearing the missing pieces. The daisy brooch was the clearest image, but Madeline felt there was enough detail showing of the earrings and the bracelet that could be enhanced by enlargement.

  “This is good. I’ll get these to my partner. He’s working on black market channels for this kind of item,” Madeline said, though it was a bit of a stretch. Mike would be working on it at some point. “Well, I guess I better get back to work…”

  “Madeline, before you go…” Vivian rose to her feet. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you helping me with this. I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing by hiring you, though. Don’t get me wrong—those pieces are my most treasured possessions. But I find myself wondering if the havoc their absence is going to stir up is worth getting them back.”

  Vivian lowered herself to the chair. Madeline did the same. If Vivian wanted to end the case now, that was okay with her. No matter which way the cards fell, many people were going to be affected.

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way to continue with this inquiry. We can put it off until this weekend is over, or we can put a halt to it for good.”

  Vivian held up her hand to silence her P.I. “No, dear—the truth is a close second to the memories these pieces revive for me. You let your partner and your assistant run with it. But let me just share with you something that Walter wrote in the card that accompanied the brooch.” Vivian cleared her throat and lifted her head, giving away her thespian past. After composing herself, she closed her eyes and began.

  “Purest white,

  slender petals.

  Brilliant center

  rivals the sun.

  Dainty and fleeting,

  a symbol of youth.

  Yet, the urge to pluck

  is too strong to resist

  Pulling delicate slivers

  I redesign my Daisy.

  I overlap the tips

  to spell a fairer flower,

  whose elegance belies her power

  and whose grace is never ending

  V I V I A N

  My eternal blossom

  When Vivian had finished reciting the verse, she opened her eyes and smiled. Her face was so serene, Madeline could see the young woman who had inspired those words. She forced down the lump in her throat and blinked away the beginnings of tears. She reached out and took Vivian’s hand in hers and held it for a moment.

  “See you at the carnival,” she said, getting to her feet. Vivian laughed, a sound that made her eyes well up again.

  Madeline put on her earrings while she listened to Brian explain her new alarm system. She had dashed home to shower, change and ready herself for the long night ahead. What she really wanted to do was turn off her phone and go to bed.

  “Okay, you’re going to use the three middle fingers on your right hand to program the keypads—this one and the one outside. You’ll have two levels of security that you must disarm when you e
nter the house. You’ll have thirty seconds from the time you disarm the pad by the front door to disarm this one. Got it?”

  Madeline nodded perfunctorily. This was the wrong time to be learning how to work these sophisticated upgrades. Right now, babysitting a half-smashed client was of greater concern than a run-in with Lionel Usherwood, though she was sure she’d feel differently if he suddenly showed up on her doorstep.

  “Give me your hand.” Madeline slipped on a shoe before complying with Brian’s orders.

  “I’m not going to remember all this,” she warned as Brian had her place her fingertips on the pad and hold them there for several seconds.

  “Try to concentrate. I’m doing this for your own good. I’m not the one who’s got a spook rearranging my home.” A green light came on indicating the prints took. Brian pulled Madeline by the hand toward the front door.

  “Hang on a sec,” she said, slipping her other shoe on with her free hand.

  “You look pretty hot in that dress, by the way,” Brian commented, earning a frosty look from his client. They repeated the process on the keypad by the front door.

  “Okay, now what?”

  “When you leave the house, you’ll need to punch in an activation code—”

  “Fingerprints and a code?” Madeline asked. It was Brian’s turn to glare at her.

  “A code to arm it, fingerprints to disarm it. Easy peasy. Now, pick a four digit code, different from the last one.” Madeline tapped in the new numbers. “Okay, that’s the new code. When you arm the system, you’ll have ninety seconds to leave the house before the alarm triggers. So make sure you’ve got all your stuff together before you punch in the code.”

  “Got it.”

  “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

  “But wait a second…what about when my cleaning lady comes, or Mike?” Brian thought about this.

  “The only thing you can do is let them in, give them the code and leave.” Madeline wasn’t thrilled by this wrinkle, but she didn’t have time to argue. “We can work out something more flexible once you’re out of imminent danger,” Brian added. “Okay, let’s go over the app I’ve set up on your phone.”

  Madeline drew in close as Brian explained the surveillance sensors he had installed outside the house. There was a total of four, all equipped with night vision, that not only picked up and recorded any movement outside the house, but also sent the images to her iPhone.

  “You can change this so that you can review the photos whenever it’s convenient for you, but right now it’s set up to alert you to any significant movement as it happens.”

  “Okay,” Madeline said tentatively, already anticipating being awakened in the middle of the night again when a cat traversed her property. But that was a small price to pay if it ever caught a midnight marauder. Or a murderous fugitive.

  “Well, thanks for getting this all done,” Madeline said as she checked her bag to make sure she had everything she needed.

  “I haven’t explained the glass-breaking sensors yet,” Brian said.

  “Sorry, I have got to go.” Brian looked put-off by her lack of interest in his latest wizardry. “I think I get it—someone breaks a window and a silent alarm alerts the police…right?”

  “Actually, any glass breaking will trigger the alarm.”

  “Oh. Okay, no more throwing my wineglasses in the fireplace,” she said drolly.

  “You’re awfully blasé for someone being stalked by a homicidal fiend with a vendetta to settle,” Brian said cavalierly.

  “You are a comfort, Brian,” Madeline said, hurrying him out the door.

  “Well…let me know if you run into any glitches,” Brian said once they were standing on her front steps. His hesitancy to leave told Madeline he had something else he wanted to say. But she was in too much of a rush to make reassurances for her security man’s sake that she was going to be all right. Her safety wasn’t really his department, anyway. All he could do was provide her with warnings of what was happening on the home front. Once she left her baby Fort Knox, she was a moving target. The harsh reality was only luck would save her.

  Brian watched Madeline from his car as she pulled out of her driveway and disappeared down the street. He would’ve liked more time to test the new systems, especially since this wasn’t just a “peace of mind” installation. He ran over all the possible contingencies and their antidotes in his head before he felt confident that he’d done the best he could for her at this juncture. He’d do more brainstorming later, after he tended to his other clients.

  He scanned the neighborhood through his dark glasses before starting his Mini Cooper. It gave him the creeps that an ordinary, quiet Santa Barbara street could seem so sinister in broad daylight. He pulled away from the curb, still unaware that he’d been watched the whole time.

  NINETEEN

  When Madeline arrived back at the estate, Mike was already in uniform, trying to pretend he was invisible.

  “That is an excellent disguise,” Madeline whispered to him as he stood sentry in the courtyard off the kitchen. Mike bristled at her condescending remark.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Fine, I guess. I could have SBPD showing up at my house at all hours, but that might be a good thing.”

  “As long as it makes you feel less afraid,” Mike offered somewhat feebly. Madeline barked out a harsh laugh.

  “Right now, I’m more afraid of what’s going to happen here than I am of Lionel Usherwood.”

  “This is a swanky party. You’ve obsessed this thing into submission. What could go wrong?”

  Madeline let out a strained laugh. “Oh…just about anything,” she said.

  “You can imagine the worst, if that makes you feel better. But I can tell you one thing that won’t happen—Lionel Usherwood won’t be crashing the party.”

  “Nothing’s impossible,” Madeline said, leaving Mike to his surveillance duties.

  A hush of anticipation fell over the hustle-bustle inside the house as the first group of revelers spilled out of the party transport. Despite her years of manning the helm at high-profile events, even Madeline felt a surge of adrenaline as film stars, directors, producers, agents and assorted showbiz movers and shakers climbed the front steps.

  Contrary to Madeline’s fears, the night progressed all the way through the main course without a hiccup. She blended into the shadows and kept the kitchen in sync with the flow of events. Cherie made costume changes between arrival cocktails and the first round of entertainment, and as the main course plates were cleared away, she sashayed off again after promising her guests a dazzling surprise.

  “They love me,” Cherie whispered to Madeline as she glided past her and up the stairs. Though she wasn’t staggering yet, Madeline knew by the glazed look in her eyes that Cherie had more rushing through her system than rich food and expensive booze. Catching sight of her sniffing and dabbing at her nose had been the real give away.

  Madeline glanced at her watch. Ten past nine. They were four hours into the festivities, almost two hours into dinner. Her eyes roved over the tables, checking the progress of the wait staff. As she got a feel for who was finished eating and who wasn’t, she discovered Vivian and Teresa’s chairs were vacant.

  “Do you know where Vivian is?” she asked Lauren, who had just floated up next to her. It took several seconds for Lauren to process the question.

  “They went back to Vivian’s room, I think. She wasn’t feeling well. All this excitement was probably a bit overwhelming for her,” Lauren replied, her eyes still glued to the action inside the pavilion. As an afterthought, she handed a folded piece of stationery to Madeline.

  “Vivian asked me to give that to you.” Madeline opened the note, which simply read: I must speak with you at your earliest convenience. Urgent. V

  “When did she give this to you?” Madeline snapped.


  “Oh…I guess about thirty minutes ago,” Lauren replied uncertainly.

  “We need a ten-minute heads up for dessert service,” Philippe’s sous chef said over Madeline’s shoulder.

  “All right. I’ll check on the birthday girl’s status and call it in to you.” Daniel nodded and slipped back to the kitchen. Turning to Lauren, she said, “Where’s Helen?” Lauren shrugged. “Find her and get her out here. I need her to monitor the floor while I hurry Cherie along and speak to Vivian. And make it fast!” she said, putting some sting in her orders to bring Lauren back from La La Land.

  As Madeline waited impatiently, Mike sidled up next to her.

  “You look tense. Something wrong?” She showed him Vivian’s note.

  “What do you think it is?” he asked. Madeline threw out her hands.

  “I don’t know, but star-struck Lauren forgot to give it to me.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Lauren? I sent her to find Helen so she can stand in for me while I check on Cherie and her mother-in-law. It’s taking her forever.”

  “Go. I’ll stand in for you. What should I be doing?”

  “Just make sure all the plates are cleared and the wait staff gives everyone a fresh glass of champagne for the toast.”

  “Consider it done,” Mike said, earning a terse smile from his partner.

  Since the kitchen was at a standstill until they got a handle on the timing, Madeline detoured from her preferred objective and checked in with Cherie. She was surprised when she opened the door and found Cherie alone, slumped on her vanity chair, wearing only her skimpy lingerie.

  “What’s wrong? Do you need help getting dressed?” she asked, alarmed by Cherie’s sudden unraveling. “Everyone’s waiting on you,” she gently scolded her. When Cherie looked up with an empty stare, Madeline braced herself for an emergency intervention. The whole affair could deteriorate into chaos if the honoree abandoned ship.

  “Ross doesn’t love me anymore,” she said, her voice hollow and listless. Oh God, not this again, Madeline thought as she pulled up a chair in front of Cherie.