by Dianne Emley
She pursed her lips, hesitated, then reluctantly took the envelope. She put it in her purse. “I’m sorry I went off like that. It’s just…when you’ve been knocked around in life as much as I have…”
Art pushed back a lock of Barbie’s hair that had come loose from her French roll. “Let’s just forget this conversation. I really like your hair like this and your hat.”
She smiled demurely. “Thank you.”
“When are you coming back from Phoenix?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Call me tonight after you get there?”
“You better believe it.” She took his chin between her fingers and shook his head back and forth. She stroked his cheek. “You sweet thing. I’ll call you tonight.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips, taking some of her bright pink lipstick away with him. He held her by the shoulders, looked down at her chest again, moaned dramatically, then turned and walked down the street. He looked back at her. She crooked her fingers at him. He winked at her, then continued walking. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, rubbed it against his lips, and looked at the pink stain on the white cotton.
Barbie walked to the bank that her McKinney Alitzer payout check was drawn on, cashed it, then walked to her car in a nearby garage. She opened the trunk and shoved the additional cash into the Luis Vuitton satchel. Looking behind her to make sure no one was watching, she dug her hand into the middle of the rubber-banded bundles.
“You did it, Barbeh girl! Where to hide this? Under my fox, of course.” She dug through the pile of garments in her trunk.
“She’s the yellow rose of Texas, da da da da da dada!”
She stopped singing. She frantically looked through the clothes in the trunk.
“I couldn’t have…”
She straightened up and stamped her foot. “Can’t be.” She chewed her lower lip. “Good Lord, girl. You can buy another fur.” She knitted her eyebrows. “But I want that one!” She looked at her watch. “Still time. I’ll just go fetch it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Iris decided to take a break and finish her bank business. She grabbed her purse from the filing cabinet and walked the few blocks to the Great California Bank.
Climbing the bank’s granite steps, she passed the street man, who shook his cup of change at her. She found some change in her jacket pocket and dropped it into his cup. Inside the bank, she walked to the counter for noncash transactions to the right of the teller windows.
A woman sitting at a desk behind the wooden barrier asked Iris if she needed assistance.
“Mrs. Harris, please,” Iris said.
Iris saw Howard working his window. She quickly looked away, anticipating his creepy stare, then looked back with curiosity when she realized he was ignoring her. She continued to stare at him, trying to see if she could get his attention, just for the hell of it, but he continued to ignore her.
A woman walked up to Iris on the other side of the counter. “Hello. I’m Mrs. Harris. I took your call about the stolen key. That’s a shame, having to replace all those keys you had.”
Iris smiled guardedly. “How did you know I had a lot of keys?”
“We laughed about them when you were here the other day.”
“Howard helped me the last time I was here. You’ve helped me before, but it’s been a few weeks.”
“Really? I’m positive I helped you the other day. You were wearing a pretty, bright blue suit.”
“Then it must have been a while ago because the dry cleaners lost that suit.”
Mrs. Harris shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Some days I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”
“Anyway, about my safe-deposit box, I’ve decided to move everything into a new box.”
Mrs. Harris buzzed Iris into the cubicle, left momentarily, and returned with box 106. She carried it easily with one hand. She set it on the counter in front of Iris and left her alone.
Iris lifted the box by its handle. “Son of a bitch.” She took a deep breath and pulled open its hinged top. It contained her insurance policies, will, trust deed, and other documents and nothing else. The almost half a million dollars in dirty money was gone.
Iris stared into it. She wanted to scream or shout but ended up just slowly closing the metal lid and shoving the box across the counter, away from her. She left the cubicle and waved at Mrs. Harris.
“You said the box was sealed as soon as I called.”
“That’s right. Immediately after you reported your key missing. Is something wrong?”
“But I called first thing Tuesday morning, right after you opened at ten o’clock.”
“We open at nine o’clock. Is there a problem?”
Iris waved her hand distractedly toward the box. “I’ll change everything later. I have to go now.”
She walked out of the bank and down the stairs, methodically putting one foot in front of the other as if she didn’t trust the ground to support her weight.
Finally reaching the McKinney Alitzer tower a few blocks away, she walked to a group of telephones against one wall of the lobby, dropped in two dimes, and punched in a number.
Art’s phone display indicated the call was from an outside line, so he answered formally. “Art Silva.”
“It’s Iris. Meet me in the stairwell off the ninth floor.”
“Iris, some of us have to work.”
“You wanted solid proof. Well, I’ve got it. In spades.”
Art walked to the stairwell. A cloud of cigarette smoke flooded out when he opened the door. He swatted at the air, walked past the smokers and down three flights of stairs. Iris was standing on the ninth-floor landing.
Art stood with his legs apart and his hands on his hips. “Okay. What?”
Iris spoke in a calm, low voice, but her hands were trembling. “Barbie and Lorraine robbed my safe-deposit box. They must have paid that guy to mug me to get the key, then Lorraine posed as me. And I yelled at the poor dry cleaners for losing my blue suit.”
“Say again?”
Iris’s sangfroid was fleeting. The words spilled out. “Barbie took my keys from my purse. She was looking for the safe-deposit box key. Then she lied about it.” She began talking faster and faster. “John warned me about that guy. When I got my purse back, everything was there but the cash. Who cares about the cash? And the keys, but I thought he’d just dropped them. The purse was a cover-up. She paid him to get the keys.” Tears streamed down her face. “She did it for the money. Everything! Every gesture. Every word. Lorraine’s in it, too. And now they’re gone. They’re gone, Art. They’re gone.”
“Slow down! I can’t understand you.” Art took a folded handkerchief out of his back pants pocket and handed it to her. “Here, let’s sit down.”
They sat on the concrete steps.
“Tell me again, slowly.”
She wiped away tears that were blackened with eye makeup. “Barbie paid that homeless man to mug me. She stole my blue suit from my closet and gave it to Lorraine to wear to the bank. The woman at the bank told me I’d just been there, wearing my blue suit, but I can’t find my blue suit. Lorraine robbed my safe-deposit box.” She refolded the handkerchief and noticed a smear of pink lipstick on the white cotton next to the red of her own lipstick.
“What would she want in your safe-deposit box?”
Iris looked at him, her face and eyes red and swollen. “Alley’s dirty money.”
He widened his eyes. “You have it?”
“Not a million, like everyone thought, but almost half a million.” She put her hand on his. “You can’t tell anyone, Art. Promise. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
“Damn! You had it all the time.”
“Art, promise me. Promise you won’t tell anyone. I’ll get into big trouble.”
“I promise. Iris, I do. I promise.”
Tears sprang into her eyes again. She held herself with both hands. “I feel like I’ve been raped or something.”
�
��I can’t believe you had it all this time.”
“Don’t you get it yet? Where’s the good faith money?”
“C’mon. You don’t think…?”
“We have to find them.”
“No. I don’t believe you.”
“Art, Barbie got the street man to mug me. I could have been killed!”
He stood and raked the fingers of both hands through his thick hair. “I’ve got to think. Give me a few minutes.”
“We don’t have a few minutes.”
“She better think again if she thinks she’s gonna steal from me.”
“Let’s call them. Maybe they’re still packing. You call. Talk to Barbie. Don’t alarm her. Just tell her you…you wanted to say good-bye again. Act normal.”
They sped down the nine flights stairs to the bank of telephones in the lobby. The phone rang five times before Barbie’s answering machine clicked on.
“Hey, baby. It’s Arturo. I just called to say good-bye again. I miss you already. I love you, baby. I really do. We’re gonna have a great life together. Call me as soon as you get home.” He hung up. “I’ll drive. I have to go back upstairs and get my keys. I’ll tell Dexter I’m going to see a client.”
“I’ll call up my excuse from down here. Get my briefcase from my office. It has my mobile phone in it.”
“We’re going to have some explaining to do on Monday.”
“I’ll meet you in the garage.”
Within half an hour they had retrieved the Mustang and were driving down the Ten west. They didn’t speak for a long time.
Halfway to Barbie’s, Iris broke the silence. “Do you really love her?”
Art raised his upper lip against his teeth. “If she walked, my nightclub walked. Hell, I would have said anything. Now, I feel like wringing her neck.”
“I’m having a homicidal moment myself.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Call me as soon as you get home.”
Barbie heard Art’s voice through the cheap front door of her apartment. He was on the answering machine. She knocked.
“Lorraine, darlin’. Open up.”
She put her ear to the door. There was silence. “Good. She ain’t there.” She started to put the key in the lock, stopped and frowned when she heard Art’s voice again.
“Hey, baby. It’s Arturo. I just called to say good-bye…”
Barbie pushed the door and gasped.
Lorraine was sitting on the floor with her legs sprawled out, wearing only the slinky black cocktail dress that Barbie had bought her. The dress was hiked up around her waist, and one of the straps had slipped and lay loose against her upper arm. Barbie’s bottle of bourbon and a glass were on the carpet beside her. The answering machine was on the floor in the V of Lorraine’s legs.
Lorraine pressed Play, and Art’s message began again.
“Hey, baby. It’s Arturo…”
Lorraine looked up at Barbie. Her head wobbled on her neck. Her eyes beneath her half-closed lids were glassy.
Barbie recovered and breezed into the room. “Hey, Rainey! Whatcha up to?”
Lorraine unsteadily watched Barbie’s movements through the apartment. When Art’s message had finished, she rewound the tape and played it again.
“Hey, baby. It’s Arturo…”
Barbie walked up the steps to the bedroom area and turned left into the hallway. She slid open a closet door and saw the fox in its zippered bag.
“You forgot your fur,” Lorraine shouted.
Barbie reappeared. “I didn’t forget it, honey. I was gonna get it when I came to pick you up. I just didn’t want to drive around with it in my car.”
Lorraine sloppily tipped bourbon into her glass. She raised the glass to her lips and sipped. “Bunch of dead animal skins mean more to you than people.”
“Well, Lorraine, that’s an unkind thing to say. Especially when we’re just about to start our new life. I made a reservation at the Mariah Lodge for the weekend. It’s a very exclusive resort. We have their best room. It’s a little cabin right on a cliff with the ocean below.”
Lorraine’s head swayed as she looked up at Barbie. “Our life? You mean your life…with Ar-tur-o.” She turned up the volume on the answering machine.
“We’re gonna have a great life together…”
“I love you, baby,” Lorraine mocked Art’s voice. “We’re gonna have a great life together.”
Barbie marched down the three stairs and over to Lorraine. She bent over and clicked off the answering machine. “I told you about Arturo. The man just handed me fifty thousand dollars in cash. Isn’t that worth a li’l ‘I love you’? Isn’t it? Words don’t cost nothin’.”
“Don’t they? They cost me over thirty thousand dollars. The money you stole from me.”
“I’ll give you fifty. Okay? Then we’ll be square.”
Lorraine climbed to her feet. She staggered before she found her balance. “I told you before. Money’s not enough.” She slurred her words. “You promised me a life. And I’m gonna get it.”
Barbie put her arms around Lorraine. “Sugar, that’s where we’re headed. What’s got you so upset? I left you a note. Told you I had to run some errands. And here I am, back again.”
“You weren’t coming back. You took all your clothes. You just left the stuff you never wear anyway.”
“Lorraine, you’re never gonna be happy until you start to trust people.”
“I saw the fur and I cracked up. I wondered whether you had the guts to come back for it.”
“Honey, what in the world are you talkin’ about? I packed up my clothes just to save time.” Barbie looked at her watch. “Now let me help you pack your stuff so we can skedaddle outta here.”
“What’s your hurry, Charlotte?” Lorraine spat out the name. “I think we should have a toast first.” She tottered to the kitchen and got a glass from the cupboard, knocking a second glass into the sink, where it clattered ominously but did not break.
Barbie nervously twisted her watch. She ran to the bedroom, got Lorraine’s suitcase from the closet, threw it open on the bed, and began haphazardly packing Lorraine’s things.
Lorraine poured bourbon into the fresh glass, spilling some. She set the glass on the coffee table and leaned over to pick up her used glass from the floor. She lost her balance and stumbled into the coffee table, putting her hand on it to break her fall. One of the wobbly legs gave, toppling her, the full glass of bourbon, and a vase of flowers onto the floor.
Lorraine began to laugh. She clapped her hands and laughed harder and harder.
Barbie ran down the steps. She leaned over and tried to pick Lorraine up. “How much have you had?” She looked at the bottle. Most of it was still left. “You don’t hold your liquor too good, do you?”
“I took a couple of magic pills.”
“Good Lord.” She tried to lift Lorraine. “Darlin’, you have to help me.”
“I don’t care if I’m sick. I don’t care if I die.” She sat inert against Barbie’s efforts. “I don’t care if you die.”
Barbie straightened. “Now that’s nice talk, missy.”
Lorraine looked up at her and laughed. “You’re just so proper, aren’t you? Just a nice, Southern lady.”
“Honey, we’ve got to go. Now!”
“What’s your hurry?” Lorraine rolled onto her hands and knees and managed to stand. She clawed at the hem of the cocktail dress, pulling it down, her fake nails leaving red welts on her legs. “Afraid Earl and Evelyn are gonna show up?”
Barbie paused, as if to make sure she’d heard right. “Your parents? Why would they come?”
“You’re such a fucking liar.”
Barbie winced at the vulgarity.
“I called them today, just to let them know their precious daughter was all right. Such a good daughter.” Lorraine grabbed the fallen dress strap and pulled it onto her shoulder. “Was I surprised to find out I’d already called them this morning.” She slapped her thigh.
> “You’d already called them? What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Lorraine pointed a swaying finger at Barbie. “You’re good. You don’t miss a beat. You’re gonna teach me everything.”
Barbie looked at Lorraine speechlessly.
Lorraine clapped her hands and snorted through her nose as she laughed. “See what you get for fucking with fucked-up people?”
“Lorraine, I’m leaving.”
“No you’re not.”
“You’re too drunked-up to stop me.” Barbie ran up the three steps, grabbed her fur from the closet, and ran back downstairs.
Lorraine held onto each side of the door frame, blocking it. “Go ahead. Leave.”
“Get out of my way.”
Lorraine smiled crookedly.
Barbie put the fox in its bag on the floor and tried to pry Lorraine from the door. She didn’t budge.
“You didn’t realize how strong a crazy person could be, did you, Charlotte?”
Lorraine pushed Barbie backward. Barbie lost her balance on her high heels and toppled to the floor. She gaped up at Lorraine.
“You afraid of me? Yeah, you’re afraid. I’ve never seen you afraid. I kinda like it.”
“What do you want from me?” Barbie whispered.
“I already told you,” Lorraine said with exasperation. “I told my parents not to come. Doesn’t mean they won’t. So you’re right. We’d better go now.”
Barbie got up and smoothed her clothes. “I’m going to the bathroom first. You’d better get changed and finish packin’.”
Lorraine pulled the cocktail dress over her head. She stood nude in the middle of the living room floor. “What do you think? Who looks better? Art, Iris, or me?”
“Don’t you worry yourself about Arturo and Iris. I’m done with them.”
“If it wasn’t for Iris, you would have stayed in Salt Lake. Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, if it wasn’t for Iris, I would have stayed in Salt Lake. I’ll be out in a minute.” Barbie went into the bathroom and closed the door. A loud fan switched on automatically when she turned on the light.
