Blind Trust (Blind Justice Book 2)

by Adam Zorzi

  “109, 110, and 111. They're my favorites too.”

  She stood, took them off the table, and dropped them into her tote. She offered her bare right hand to Dan to shake.

  “Take care, Dan.”

  “You too.”

  She walked away as quickly as possible without breaking into a sprint. She couldn't bear to see the sadness in his eyes.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-THREE

  Gregg knelt on the floor in the loft surrounded by handwritten notes. She saw he'd been listening to recordings of her tour performances. His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose slightly blotchy.

  “I wasn't gone that long,” she joked. “Crying because you missed me?”

  He kissed her. “There are some moments where you and the music transcend time and space. Magic. I can't think of any word to describe those moments.”

  “That's why you're a composer. You don't need words. You have something better than words.” She opened the refrigerator, pulled out a pitcher of orange juice, and poured a large glass. She flopped on the sofa. Gregg joined her.

  “How did it go?” He put his arm around her. “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine. Seeing him was okay. I definitely had my barriers up. He'd like me to become involved with his life. He seemed lost and so lonely. It's heartbreaking to see him as he is now. He was recovering from a depressive episode when we met, but he's only about ten percent of what he was then, which was probably half of who he used to be. He's nice. Straight. Suburban. Good guy. I can't help him. I can't be part of his support system. I have to take care of me.”

  “Yes, you do. I'm sure you found a way to give him that impression without hurting him.”

  “Maybe. I explained I have two lives. My Sick life and my normal life. The two never meet.”

  “Do you think he got what he needed?”

  “He wanted to tell me about his relationship with Bella. College lovers. Soul mates. Destined for great things. After college, she went to Paris. He went to Miami. She wanted him to come with her and after she arrived, she wrote him to join her. Even for a visit. She probably wanted to tell him about her pregnancy. He didn't go. She must have decided if he wasn't going to be part of her life, then she needed to give her baby to a couple who could love her.

  “Apparently, Bella was the most beautiful woman in the world. I don't measure up. I resemble her, but I'm nowhere near perfection. Glad I didn't have to grow up hearing that.”

  “You're beautiful, LouLou. I don't care what some other woman looked like. No one can compare with you.”

  She stretched out her legs. “I got the impression those two would've been terrible parents. Their love, as he described it, went one way. To each other. When he talks about her, he almost goes into a trance. He speaks of her as a goddess and their love as something that was beyond earthly boundaries. He looks radiant.

  “I don't think either one of them would have loved a child enough to make her feel secure, happy, and confident. I think any child of theirs would've been parked with nannies while they travelled the world fulfilling their dreams. I'm not saying what they wanted for themselves was bad. It's what I do, too. I just don't see how a child would've benefitted from being raised with them. She would always be third.”

  “Lucky you,” he said.

  “Very lucky me.” She finished her orange juice and put the glass on the floor. “He asked if he could come to a show. That's when I told him I keep my lives separate. I can't prevent him from buying a ticket and attending. I wouldn't want to do that to him, but I don't want a groupie who wants to be backstage to hang with me.”

  “Can I do that?” he said with a straight face.

  “Anytime. Just make sure no one sees you.”

  They dissolved into laugher that quickly turned into passion and lovemaking on the striped sofa.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Getting the gun was easy for Bella. The boy who guarded the rear door of the tapis grossiste in Paris fell asleep every evening before nine o'clock. The men inside bartering for rugs, weapons, and drugs wouldn't exit until midnight. Plenty of time to relieve the boy of his gun. He carried a Glock G26 9mm popular for its small size and light weight yet powerful eleven-round capacity. The recoil and accuracy were appropriate for the hand of a boy rather than a man.

  The older boy, who patrolled the block as lookout, was equally lax. Wearing the traditional keffiyeh around his shoulders over Western clothes, he took a break to visit the hookah café around the corner between ten o'clock and eleven every night. Striking about fifteen minutes after he swaggered toward the café would be optimal.

  The boy slept with a M70 assault rifle on his lap strapped over his turbaned head and around his shoulder. His child's hand rested near the trigger. The Glock was behind him on the small, dirty red carpet on which he sat in lotus position. His head nodded forward as he slept.

  With one swift movement, she snatched the gun. The boy didn't stir. The Glock wouldn't be missed until it was on its way to Washington, DC.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  LouLou turned the corner toward her loft after taking her daily walk in the park when Sara called to her. “Signature required mail,” she called.

  “Thanks,” LouLou said as she followed Sara into Roy's. LouLou's packages and certified deliveries were addressed in care of Roy and Sara. She dropped the thick parchment envelope in her tote.

  “Anything going on?” LouLou asked.

  “It's that time of year when we have to decide what to do for vacation. The kids are getting older and don't think visiting grandparents is a treat. I want to sit in a lounge chair and read and have no one ask me a single question. Roy wants to taste exotic foods. We're at an impasse.”

  “Sounds like you're ready for a cruise. The kids can do their thing. You can chill. Roy can eat at restaurants in every port.”

  Sara smiled. “That's my thought. But where?”

  “I've never been on a cruise, but I would say anywhere. As long as Roy has new cuisine to try, the rest of you have what you need aboard ship. The Mediterranean, the Caribbean, and South America would work. Pick one and surprise him.”

  “Oh, no you don't. You know Roy doesn't like surprises.”

  “Well, at least narrow it down so he thinks it's his choice.”

  “Smart woman, LouLou.”

  ***

  Inside the loft, LouLou showered, tidied up, and got around to opening the large envelope. Return address was a law firm in New York. Probably a contract that should have gone to Brooks.

  She'd just begun to read when Gregg returned. He gave her a lingering kiss. “Careful, or you're going to distract me from important contracts.”

  “Sorry, I'll sit quietly and read the latest copy of Strings. I can't believe such magazines exist. If they had when I was a kid, I'd never have done any school homework.”

  LouLou scanned the cover letter and stopped. “Gregg, this isn't a contract. This is a beneficiary letter. “

  He looked puzzled. “Who died?”

  “Bella Davis. The letter is from her attorney and trustee of a blind trust she established the year I was born. It was to be made available to me when I turned thirty. Apparently, it took a while to trace me from Paris to DC to Richmond.”

  LouLou sat. “It's a lot of money. A lot.”

  She showed Gregg the most recent bank statement. “Wow. Eight figures. Any catch?”

  She read further. “No. It's an outright gift to me.”

  There was a smaller envelope tucked inside. It was addressed in beautiful handwriting to LouLou Fleming. “Gregg, I think it's a letter from Bella. Should I read it?”

  “Yes. She's dead. She can't ask anything of you.”

  “I don't want my adoption to become a large part of my life. I know the truth. I listened to Dan. And now this.”

  “Why don't you just read what she has to say?” he said reasonably. “Better to know than waste time guessing.”

&
nbsp; She settled herself into the sofa and read aloud.

  To my daughter,

  I am not able to raise you without your father and hope the Flemings will give you a wonderful life full of music, art, and happiness.

  You are the child of two people who couldn't possibly love each other more. We are eternal soul mates. You were conceived in true love. Circumstances prevent us from being together.

  I am saving money to give you when you are older. It is money that I alone have earned and want to share with you. I'm putting it in a blind trust so you'll be unaware of it until the appointed time. May it blossom for you.

  I wish you love.

  Bella

  “I think your hunch was right.”

  “You mean that the two of them wouldn't be great parents? Not exactly a warm, fuzzy note to the child you're giving away. More about Bella and Dan than me. She doesn't say she loves me. She wishes me love. Cold.” She put the note down. “What do I do?”

  “Transfer the funds to your account.”

  LouLou shivered. “This feels wrong. I don't want it mixed with my money. Maybe I could give it away.”

  “Put it in another bank.”

  “It would just sit there, haunting me. Every time I got a statement, I'd be reminded of Bella.”

  Gregg took her hands. “What bothers you so much about her?”

  “They're strangers trying to insinuate themselves into my life. I don't want Dan and Bella in any part of my life. I have parents. I love them dearly, and they love me. Bella and Dan are intrusive. I thought I was safe from Bella because she's dead, but I'm not.”

  “I know nothing about money, but I know you pay bills online. Couldn't you set up a new trust with a different bank and ignore the electronic statements?”

  “If I have to.” She squeezed his hand. “I don't want to touch the money. It feels tainted somehow. I don't want to cause tax problems for myself, either. I can't pay taxes on that amount of money, especially if I don't want it. I need legal advice, but I can't ask Brooks.”

  She closed her eyes to think.

  “I went to high school with a girl, Quincy, who is a partner with a big law firm in New York. She works in the Trusts and Estates department. She'll know what to do. I'll call her and email her the information if she'll take me as a client, which will cost money.

  “Damn that woman. Once I get the trust sorted out, I hope it's the last I hear of Bella and Dan.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-SIX

  “Quincy can see me this week. She just sent a text.” LouLou put the phone down on the bedside table. She and Gregg were enjoying a lazy Sunday morning in bed.

  “You have to go to New York?”

  “Yes. I'm not a fabulously wealthy client who gets in-home attention.” She rearranged herself to be away from the phone and closer to Gregg. “I have to spend at least one night there. I don't want to stress myself traveling.”

  “One night? That's all? People fly to New York and return the next day? Shouldn't you stay longer to rest?”

  “Gregg, people fly to New York for lunch and return the same day. There are shuttles every hour between New York and DC and New York and Boston. No purchase in advance required. Air travel is not luxurious or a treat, believe me.”

  “Stay as long as you need. I don't want you to do anything that could endanger your health.” Gregg pulled her closer to him. “This is luxury. Sunday in bed with the beautiful woman I love while drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.”

  LouLou turned on her side to face him. “I'm the only one drinking coffee.”

  “I imagine it would be nice. I'm a low maintenance boyfriend. You never have to feed or water me.”

  LouLou put her hand on his arm. “Is that what you are? My boyfriend?” He stroked her face.

  “Lover sounds like I'm a gigolo. Fiancé is inaccurate. Husband is never to be. What's left?”

  LouLou couldn't think of anything. “I don't want to name it. Let's just leave it between us.”

  He kissed her. “Done.”

  “You're invisible. Aside from not eating, drinking, or sleeping, what else can't you do?”

  “I do almost everything I did when I was alive,” he responded. “Being invisible lets me do a few more things than I could do as a human, like walk through or go places when they're officially closed, but I also can't do as much if people can't see me. I don't have any other abilities. I can't foretell the future or rewind time.”

  LouLou sat up. “Can you travel?”

  “I don't know. I know I can move around the general area. Tidewater, Richmond, and near the mountains. When we picked you up at the Colonial Center, Skylar, Robert, and I were on a bus and then in a car. I was aware of traveling slowly. I didn't expend any energy. I was able to appear to you.”

  “Could you meet me, say, in Paris?”

  “I don't know. I've never been, so I have no frame of reference at all.”

  “Could you fly on a commercial plane? If we bought you a window seat and I sat on the aisle to prevent anyone else from sitting in your seat, do you think you would materialize once you arrived in Paris with me? Couldn't you stick with me and not disappear?”

  “I've no idea. Before our trip to the mountains, I'd never been anywhere I hadn't been when I was alive or couldn't envision in detail. Skylar showed me Colonial's website and the town where the bus would stop and that we'd rent a car so they were implanted in my mind.” He sighed. “I don't know any other ghosts to ask. We don't get a handbook. I've looked online for information about ghosts, but everything I've found is about sightings. I haven't found anything about ghost behavior.”

  “Would the risk of traveling with me be that you might disappear forever?” LouLou couldn't imagine losing Gregg. He was her only love. She'd never survive the loss.

  “That, or I might disintegrate at thirty-five thousand feet, but I don't know for certain. I think ghosts stick close to where they lived or died.”

  LouLou sighed and flopped on her back. “I wish you could travel with me. I wish you could come to New York with me this week.”

  “I admit I'm envious. I'd love to go. The only time I've been is when I went for my Juilliard audition when I was seventeen. There's an energy and excitement that surrounded me there, but I don't want to risk flying if there's a chance I'd never see you again.”

  “No, No, No. I don't want to risk that. Ever.” LouLou talked to the ceiling. “My only obligation for the rest of the year is the Chanel photo shoot in Paris. Did I tell you Mom's going with me? We're going to have an all-girls time with no stuffy diplomatic functions. Beyond that, I have to prepare for the recital in November and compose the music for Chanel's show at Fashion Week in January. Other than that, I'm free. You're free except for composing time. We have lots of time to just be.” She sighed happily.

  “LouLou,” Gregg lightly touched her shoulder, “remember, we don't know how much time we have. I can't plan to be with you at a gig a year from now. I don't know if I'll be here tomorrow. I'm sorry.”

  “I don't want to hear that. I know it, but I don't want you to say it. Besides, you haven't finished your mission. We have work to do to get compositions published and albums released. I think you have more music that needs to be written.”

  “Yes, I do. It's leaping around in my head. I just need to play it for you and write it out.”

  “I think there are software programs now that facilitate dictation. You wouldn't have to write compositions out by hand and then have me play them to record. Check them out. It's worth a try. “

  “I feel like I'm living on Mars. Such wizardry. Technology. Amazing things that can be done now.”

  LouLou moved as close as she could get to him. He held her tightly.

  “Gregg, promise me you'll stay as long as you can. Please don't leave too soon.”

  “I promise, LouLou. I wish I could promise I'd be here forever. I love you.”

  She loved him in a way she couldn't describe. Love seemed to
o small a word. “I love you with my whole heart, Gregg.” Time to bring up a topic she hoped Gregg would be excited about.

  “I'm thinking of getting a new tattoo when I'm in New York. There's a great salon where most of my drawings have been inked. I'd like to get something that's meaningful to both of us. For us. Any ideas?”

  “You'd be the artist to draw the design and someone transfers it?”

  “Yes. I want something small and intimate. I'm planning to have it put on my left hand between my index finger and my thumb. It's a nice little fleshy place. I don't want anything obviously romantic. No hearts, infinity symbols, or swans.”

  Gregg leaned back and put his hands behind his head.

  “Swans?” he asked.

  “They mate for life. Over-used wedding cake toppers. Besides, I don't like swans. They look arrogant and condescending.”

  Gregg laughed. “Okay. No swans.”

  LouLou's mind was blank. She'd tried to come up with something and hit a wall.

  “Owls. Owls mate for life,” Gregg said.

  “Perfect. They're feathery and beautiful and white.”

  “No, just some owls mate for life. Snowy owls are nomadic and mate wherever they happen to be. Like a girl in every port.”

  “You're making that up.”

  “No. Barn owls are unusually beautiful. They have a white heart shaped face that looks like those masks you see in pictures of costume balls in Venice. Their stomachs are white, and their feathers are a range of yellow to gold to brown.”

  LouLou sat up. “I saw something like those in Japan. They're called Ural owls. The guide for the chamber music orchestra I was with pointed them out in a park at dusk. They mate for life and sing duets. The male has a deep voice and plays rhythm. The females have higher pitches and a husky timbre. Like Lauren Bacall as a soprano.”