Margo had no doubt who was the author of the messages. She found her purse, took out her spare phone, walked to the terrace with a glass of juice, shut the door behind her, went to the fence that ran on the edge of the pool side, and dialed Tristan’s number.
“Margo?”
His voice was hoarse and surprised.
“While you’re getting your beauty sleep,” Margo said, “your fucking girlfriend sends me all this crap.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
He sounded sleepy.
“I just got two messages from your idiotic girlfriend. Five minutes ago I was sleeping, like most normal people, until she woke me up. She called me a bitch in one message and she threatened to kill me in the second. How do you like that?”
“Wait,” Tristan’s voice cleared a little. “You mean Daisy?”
“Who else would I call your girlfriend? Your mom?”
“Why are you so angry?”
"What do you mean why am I so angry? Did you hear what I just said? Did you understand what she wrote to me?”
“It doesn’t sound like Daisy.”
“Do you know her so well? We all can pretend to be someone we are not. Here we are talking about a guy. You. You told me you’d take care of her.”
“I went to her house last night, because she didn’t answer her phone, but she wasn’t there. It’s kind of strange. She has a cat and she never leaves it alone for a long time.”
“These fucking cats again,” Margo said.
“What?”
“Nothing. Apparently, the presence of a cat didn’t stop her from coming up with a plan of revenge. I hope she’s not going to come to my house with a gun.”
“Of course not. Daisy’s not like that.”
“Daisy’s not like that,” Margo mimicked. “Who is like that?”
“Are you sure it’s her?”
“Who else, Tristan? There’s no one else.”
“Do you have any girlfriends?”
“What’s the difference? Even if I did, why would they send me messages like these? I fought with her. Over you. Think about that.”
“Listen. I’m sorry that ... I’ll try to find her. I’ll call her mom, friends, her sister. I don’t know. Don’t worry.”
“You already told me that.”
“I love you. It’s important to me that you are all right and you are not worrying about anything. Do you understand? I’ll take care of you, babe.”
Margo paused.
“Babe?” Tristan called.
“Don’t call me babe,” she snapped.
“Okay. Go get more sleep and don’t think about bad stuff. I’ll call you.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Margo turned off the phone and went back to the house. She finished the juice in the kitchen, looking at the chandelier under the ceiling and trying to remember where she bought it and how much it cost. Then she thought about doing yoga. She didn’t really want to do it. Then her stomach woke up and asked for food, but she didn’t feel like eating. Finally Margo returned to the bedroom and climbed under the blanket with the intention of finishing the dream she was having before the messages. She rode in a Bentley cabriolet somewhere in the mountains, slowly going up and practically crashing down. She wanted to finish this dream by going all the way up. Crashing wasn’t for her.
“Are you okay?” Michael asked.
“Better than ever,” Margo answered and closed her eyes. She didn’t notice when she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 18
Margo went to the spa and visited her favorite hairdresser on Saturday, so she would look her best on Sunday. Alberto was a young gay guy and Margo thought he was the best in terms of professionalism and imagination. He also gave her compliments like no others.
“Your hair is gorgeous, perfect for those shampoo commercials,” he said. “Just gorgeous.”
Margo only smiled. She used to tell him about her first husband and now she talked about the second one.
“You’re a heartbreaker,” he laughed. “Guys are crazy about you. You’ll pull me to your team.”
“It’s about time for you to join our team,” Margo joked. “You are so handsome, don’t waste your time.”
“Oh, trust me, honey, I don’t.”
This made Margo and Alberto laugh.
Margo was finished with her hair and had even given a tip, when the door to the salon opened once again and a young girl, who clearly needed a good haircut, came in. She was followed by Dylan, the son of Margo’s untimely deceased husband.
Margo and Dylan stopped in their tracks, staring at each other. Margo came to her senses first, viewed the blonde with him from head to toe, and nodded approvingly.
“Not bad,” she said.
“Who is she?” the girl asked.
“Please, meet my father’s murderer.”
“Oh, Dylan.” Margo sighed and shook her head. “Dylan, Dylan. Don’t worry,” she said to the girl. “He’s just upset and trying to find someone to blame. I understand that.”
“Upset?” Dylan yelled. “I’m more than upset!”
“Dylan, it’s okay.” The girl took his hand.
Margo glanced at the stylist and two visitors, who were watching the scene with interest and no shame.
“I apologize,” she said. “Let’s all calm down.”
“I’ll never calm down! You …” Dylan pointed a finger at Margo, opened his mouth to say something, but either changed his mind or found no words.
“Are you sending me those text messages?” Margo suddenly thought.
“Fuck you!” the guy said. “What messages?”
“Death threats. I’ve gotten three so far.”
In fact, Margo had already received five with approximately the same content and was considering involving the police. Of course if she did that, Michael could learn what he didn’t need to learn, and that was not a part of Margo’s plans at all.
“I didn’t send you anything!” The guy was outraged. “That’s not the way I deal with your kind. I tell you all the time what I think about you. Why would I send anything anonymously?”
“I heard you. Just keep in mind that threats are criminally punishable, even if they go through a third party.”
“You’re crazy!” Dylan shouted and the girl started patting his hand with more energy.
“Of course,” Margo said. “When I leave, you can talk about me as much as you want. It seems like you’re obsessed with me. Your girl should start worrying.”
Dylan’s girlfriend gasped.
“And you better stop sending me those messages.”
Dylan wanted to say something more, but Margo was already out the door.
As soon as she got outside, she dialed Tristan and he immediately responded. At first, she wanted to meet him for coffee, but quickly changed her mind. She was too noticeable for people not to remember her and she didn’t need them to remember her with this sucker.
“What happened to your beloved?” Margo asked.
“Stop it.”
“I don’t care.”
“Listen, I can’t find her, Margo. She has simply vanished. No one has seen her, not even her parents. They don’t know what happened. Daisy always told them when she was going somewhere, especially if she was coming back late. They have reported her disappearance to the police.”
“I hope they don’t come to me. The police, I mean. I might be the last one who saw her.”
“I don’t know. Did she leave your house?”
“What do you mean did she leave my house? Of course she left! You saw her!”
“I didn’t see her. She called me.”
“Really? She told me she saw you and spoke with you when you left the house.”
“I didn’t see her. Maybe she saw me from the car. Probably that’s what happened. She saw me, but didn’t want to face me.”
“I don’t care. She’s crazy and you told me you’d take care of her.”
“I did, but I couldn’t eve
n talk to her.”
“Well. I don’t know what to say,” Margo said. Was he telling her everything? Would he hide something from her?
“I know. It’s strange.”
“There’s also my hubby’s ex,” Margo said quietly, forgetting for a moment that she was on the phone.
“What did you say?” Tristan asked.
“Never mind. I have to go.”
“Okay. Listen, Margo, I’ll call you as soon as I find her, I promise.”
“Got it.”
“Can I stop by today?”
“My husband will be home the whole day.” Margo looked around for her car and found it in the parking lot across the road. Good thing her car was red, easy to see from afar, because she couldn’t remember where she parked.
“We need to change things,” Tristan said. “I want to see you more often.”
“We’ll change things, don’t worry about it. We will.”
Margo cut the connection and snorted. She had suddenly become quite bored with Tristan.
On the way to her car, Margo tried to sort out the puzzle. It turned out that she had three potential enemies and three people who could have sent the messages. Daisy, of course, a complete idiot. She just got herself in trouble, nothing more. Second was Dylan, the son of her first husband, Charles, who was confident that his stepmother had killed his daddy and tried to prove it to the police. The police couldn’t prove anything because there was no proof. There was also a third enemy. Margo didn’t know whether she should count her or not, because nothing said this woman had tried to scare her. The former lover of her current husband, some bitch named Marsha, was invisible so far. Michael mentioned that she had found him, but what if she found her too? If she was so crazy that she could set the house on fire, what else was she capable of?
“Who?” Margo asked herself.
She didn’t like it when she was played because she was the master of games and manipulations. If someone decided to become her partner without asking permission, he or she would regret it. Margo was going to find out who it was and then everything would end up badly for the one who decided to intimidate her with messages.
When Margo entered the house, Michael wasn’t there, but the door to the garage was open.
“Michael! Michael, are you there?”
He didn’t answer. Margo entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, regretting that Daisy found out about her and Tristan. If that hadn’t happened, there would be a full container of orange juice in the fridge, along with fruit and some other food. Margo ate sushi earlier in the day, but it had the strange ability to digest quickly.
“Where is that idiot?”
Margo hadn’t taken her purse off her shoulder yet and now pulled out her phone. She dialed Michael and flinched when his phone rang next to her. Margo turned and found it behind her on the counter.
“Did he forget it?”
She cut off the connection and checked her husband’s phone. He had a password on it and she was never interested in his correspondence with anyone. She would probably check his phone later, but right now it wasn’t something she wanted to spend her time on.
Footsteps sounded behind Margo and she was startled again, almost dropping the phone. She turned to Michael.
“When did you get back?” he asked. His face was covered with black dust and black spots were on his shirt.
Margo growled. “I called you!”
“I was working on my car in the garage.”
Margo slipped Michael’s phone into his hand and stormed into the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked. “Did I do something?”
“Everything is fine!” Margo slammed the door into the bedroom.
In less than two hours, they sat in an Italian restaurant and Margo had already forgotten that she was angry. Her morning began with stress and her whole day was just as bad. Stupid messages, nasty encounters, people missing, even her husband scared her with his unexpected appearance. But now there was a plate of mussels in front of her on the table, there was the yellow sparkle of wine in her glass, and everything seemed not so terrible.
“Why did you fire her?” Michael asked, wrapping spaghetti around his fork.
“Because she’s an idiot,” Margo answered. They had just talked about Daisy and Michael wondered. “Plus, we’ll have to start saving until we get your insurance check.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“Sure,” Margo said as she took a sip of wine. It pleasantly warmed her stomach. She didn’t want to be angry, she didn’t want to argue.
“You’ll find yourself another Daisy,” Michael said, concentrating on the process of winding noodles around the fork, and then shoving them into his mouth.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Margo said.
“Of course, my dear,” Michael answered with his mouth full.
“Did you hear anything from your ex? From Marsha? Is that her real name?
“Yes. At least, I think. Why are you asking?”
“You said she found your phone number and you had to change it. You were afraid she would find your new home.”
“That’s true.” Michael drank half of his glass of wine at once. “I forgot to tell you. I met her a couple of days ago.”
“And you forgot to tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was important, to be honest. I met her accidentally.”
“Are you sure it was an accident?”
“Would you like more wine?”
“What?” Margo looked at the encroaching waiter. Her look, probably, wasn’t the most kind because the waiter flushed and nervously licked his lips.
“More wine?” he repeated.
“Yes, bring me another glass.” Margo waved her hand.
The waiter left and Margo turned back to Michael.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t important? Do you really think she accidentally met you?”
“It was Starbucks. I ran into her while getting coffee. She was there already. With a man.”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me this new development.”
“I have so much on my mind.”
“Sure you do.” Margo thought that her husband had no idea how much she had on her mind and how much he would regret all of the things he forgot to tell her or didn’t think were important. She looked at her plate and decided to enjoy her food now without an argument. “So, what about this guy she was with?”
“He’s younger than her or me; pumped. She looked happy. When she saw me, she pretended not to know me then kissed him.”
“Wow.”
“I know. Talk about passionate love. As soon as this stud appeared on the horizon, she forgot about Michael.”
Margo removed Marsha from her mental list of enemies.
“Women are unpredictable,” she said aloud.
“That’s for sure.”
“I love you.” Margo smiled and sipped her wine again.
“I love you too,” he said.
Margo thought about ways of making Michael’s life miserable, and ate mussels that were divine. The combination of mental and physical was perfect.
“What’s new with your work?” Michael asked. “It’s probably boring to stay at home all day long?”
“I haven’t had time to get bored yet. I take it day by day. I’m reviewing my business, I have new strategies. I think that soon I will get my business running again. I want to be successful.”
“I believe in you.” Michael took a new glass of wine from the waiter and lifted it in the air. “I will always help you and support you. Cheers.”
Margo smiled and raised her glass.
“Cheers!”
CHAPTER 19
They left the house early, in case of traffic jams. It was Sunday, but it was still impossible to predict the behavior of some idiots who were checking Facebook on their phones instead of looking at the road. These idiots caused accidents and screwed up other people’s plans. Michael said that h
e wasn’t worried about being on time, but Margo claimed they shouldn’t keep the old man waiting for them. She was like that. Compassionate.
Margo put on a red dress. She heard somewhere that elderly people were not only half-blind, but colors faded in their eyes. That was why a lot of old people loved bright colors. Plus, red was the color of love, it was impossible to go wrong with it.
“Wow,” Michael whistled as she walked out of the bedroom. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, checking out a website that she wasn’t interested in, waiting for her to finish getting dressed. “I thought we were going to visit some old fart.”
“So what? Do I have to wear sports pants or shorts like you?” Margo asked, throwing her Chanel bag on her shoulder.
“No, but …” Michael looked over his outfit that consisted of shorts and a T-shirt, stood up, and shoved his phone in his pocket.
“It’s just a new dress that I found a reason to wear, nothing special,” Margo added. She didn’t want her husband to have any wrong ideas. “I was hoping you’d like it.”
“Oh, I do baby. I do like it a lot. Do you want to stay here a little longer? Let’s see if it’s easy to take off.”
Margo rolled her eyes and walked to the garage.
“He’s a man of old traditions,” she continued. “He’ll wear a tie and pressed trousers.”
“Should I change?” Michael hesitated.
“We don’t have time,” Margo said. “You are fine. He’s used to the Florida style of clothing.”
“I hope he won’t kick me out.”
Margo hoped he would, but very much doubted it. They got into Michael’s car and arrived at Mason’s house five minutes before the appointed time. The residence wasn’t located on the road like the other houses, but was a little isolated. They had to drive along a narrow, unpaved road between two other mansions to get to the right one. They thought their GPS screwed them up, but fortunately it was leading them right to the place.
Margo looked at the two-story, brick house, at the marble steps leading to the heavy, double doors. The owner was expecting them and left the heavy gate open, so they drove in without difficulty over a straight road leading through a palm and mango-planted garden. The trees were scattered all over the vast territory and grew along the road, creating a natural canopy. The house itself didn’t look like any buildings in Mediterranean style, which were popular now in Florida. That was what Margo and her neighbors had. Mason’s house looked like a palace from a fairy tale about Snow White. Gray brick, high roof, columns.
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