He considered the task at hand and necessary preparations, as he drove through stop and go traffic. Celestial pale blue eyes appeared in front of him. What would Debbie paint for him? Realizing this lapse of concentration could well be fatal, he was perturbed. How did this strange, frail creature cast such a spell over him? A helpless young woman who refused to eat now controlled his thoughts. How could this happen?
A helpless young woman who’d painted his life as a child. The same forest, the same place, where he often camped with his father, brother, and closest friends. And Debbie had painted the winter scene – the familiar snowy trees, icy rock and bubbling stream. The peaks in the distance just as he remembered them. The old-fashioned snow shoes planted in the snow, not far from their campfire. How could this happen?
“I always like to jump into my paintings. Like Mary Poppins. I like to pretend that I’m there. It’s always more fun having adventures in those worlds, than staying in this one.”
David had always been able to shut down his emotions. He was able to withdraw so completely into himself, that he became an observer of his own actions, not a participant. By the time he reached the driveway of his Beverly Hills residence, he thought Debbie and her remarkable painting were safely and completely buried in the recesses of his mind and heart.
He stumbled out of the car like a drunkard, blue eyes fixed on him, he was certain. Prayer Warriors? Or insanity? He shuddered and rubbed his eyes.
He decided life might be worth living.
He’d go back to the boat tonight.
He strode through the house to the pool. There they were, relaxing in the last rays of the sun. “Hmmm David, I’ve been waiting for you,” she purred. Rising from the lounge, her robe slipped from her shoulders.
He watched her deliberately parade toward him. Sylvie had an amazing body, and she used it expertly.
Darla eyed them both with cool interest. She followed them upstairs.
***
It was after midnight when he arrived at the marina, boarded his boat, and headed to the small galley. He put his backpack on the table, and took out the painting and a frame. Carefully he mounted it on the wall, and placed the document behind it. Pearson would be bullshit he couldn’t get it to him sooner. Nothing he could do about it now. Pearson should have known to expect the unexpected from him.
You can’t just order the execution of a U.S. senator and go on holiday.
He took the velvet box from the backpack, headed out, and sat on the deck. He looked up at the night sky and saw Debbie’s sweet face. Healing smile. Heavenly blue eyes. Silken blonde hair that lit up her face like a halo.
God is real. He knew it now. He knew it in his core. Cat had told him long ago. But Debbie switched on the light.
He removed the ring from the box and held it in his fingers. He noticed it sparkled a bit in the moonlight. A full moon. He supposed he was crazy.
Debbie
My parents found me as bright and sunny as the new day. Dr. Gallagher did not offer an explanation for my sudden improvement. Neither did Cindy or Glori. But we all heaved a sigh of relief when they left the hospital that morning.
Glori rolled her pretty eyes. “So when do you think our knight in shining armor will show up today? And can we stand the wait?”
They didn’t have long to wonder. Just as I finally managed breakfast, he came through the open door. “Good morning.” He glanced in the direction of Cindy and Glori and nodded. Then he focused his attention on me.
I felt my throat close up, as I tried to respond. Again, he ignored my difficulties, sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand.
“I… I’m so glad to see you… today… David.”
He smiled, and then kissed my forehead. “May I have some time alone with Debbie?” He turned to Cindy with his request. Now she was blushing with confusion. Before she could muster an answer, Glori grabbed her arm, and hauled her from the room.
“What are you doing?” Cindy hissed as they lurched into the hallway.
“What? Why not let them be alone for a while? What can it hurt?” Their voices disappeared down the hallway.
He turned back to me. “Debbie, Dr. Gallagher told me you need to begin eating more in order to get well. Do you think you can do that?”
“Ohhh… yes… David.” I nodded like a child caught in mischief. I was so flummoxed, I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew this was stupid.
“Really?”
“Ohhh… yes… David.” I continued nodding despite myself, and he burst out laughing.
“You are positively adorable. You know that, don’t you?”
“Oh.” My insides started to unravel a bit.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“What?” I looked up at his face.
“I need you to want to live, Sweetheart. You’ve got to start eating something. Will you do that for me?”
He called me “sweetheart.”
“Oh yes, David.” This seemed reasonable. Without even thinking, I threw my arms around him, and he kissed my cheek again.
He sat me back on the pillow so he could talk to me. “Sweetheart, I need you to promise me something.”
He called me “sweetheart.” That’s about all that registered with me.
“Yes.” I attempted to focus on his face.
“I need you to promise me you’re going to eat all the food they give you, do everything Dr. Gallagher says to do, and do everything you can to get well. Will you promise me that?”
“Yes.”
“And I would really like it, if you could do a special painting for me. Would you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He paused to let me absorb his requests.
I remembered it’d be a good idea to speak now. “What would you like me to paint for you, David?”
“Whatever you would like to do, Sweetheart.”
“Wellll … I can show you some of my best paintings, my other paintings… in my room…” Or maybe they weren’t in my room anymore.
“I would like that.” He had a curious smile on his face, and for some reason, I now felt comfortable staring.
“Oh.” My mind was still too tired to focus on this art project for long. I reached to him for another hug, and I put my head on his strong chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. I loved the scent of him. I loved everything about him.
“Debbie.”
I tried to pick my head up, but I was too comfortable.
“I need to go on a business trip.”
“Business trip?” I popped up and wavered in his arms.
He steadied me. “Yes.”
“Where are you… going? How long… how long will you be gone?” A lump rose in my throat.
“I’m not sure how long I will be gone. But I need you to take good care of yourself while I’m away. Promise me you will.”
I could only stare up at him.
“Sweetheart, I think you should be able to gain some weight while I’m away. What do you think, hmm? I think six pounds would be good to start. Can you do that for me? Six pounds. Okay?”
“Yes.” I wondered how I’d do that. I may as well jump over the moon.
“Then when I get back, we’ll have a nice evening out together.”
“A date?”
“Yes, a date.”
“Ohh…” I almost let myself get carried away in the fantasy. But the thought that he would leave brought me back. “When are you… going away?”
“Today, Sweetheart. But I promise I’ll see you again. We’ll be together again soon.”
Tears started to drip down my face. My mind fogged with the anguish.
“Please don’t cry, Debbie. Everything’s going to be all right.”
He was placing a ring on my finger. I blinked to clear my eyes, and on my left hand was the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen. My jaw dropped.
“I want you to know, you will see me again. We’ll be together, I promise you.”
I looked up at him, incredulous, and focused on his soft brown eyes.
Then I understood—in the depths of my heart—where Grammy was smiling. I matter. I matter to him. It was right there in his eyes. And I knew where on earth I belonged.
He kissed my open mouth, and I went back for more.
“In the meanwhile, I hope you wear this ring and think of me.”
I couldn’t speak. His kiss melted me from my lips to my toes.
Glori
Debbie seemed fine when we got back to the room. She was sound asleep, tucked ever so neatly under the covers. “Told you she’d be okay.”
“Well, who knows if or when he’ll show up again,” Cindy said.
“Who knows?” I took a seat. Just as we were getting comfortable, Marion Aldridge walked in.
“Hello, dear,” Marion addressed Cindy, and then deigned to notice me with a grating “Hello.”
We exchanged “we’ve got to get out of here” looks behind her back.
“Well, it looks like she is doing much better. She has a little color in her cheeks.” Marion was whispering excitedly.
I snorted. “Yeah, she’s got color in her cheeks…”
“We’ve really got to get going Mrs. Aldridge.” It was Cindy’s turn to pull me out of the room.
“Very well, dear, thank you for taking such good care of her.”
“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!” was Cindy’s mantra as we walked down the corridor.
I taunted her, mimicking ol’ Marion. “Thank you dear, for taking such good care of her.”
***
We had the TV on in the background, as we chatted about the events of the day. A photo of Senator Joe Everett caught our attention, and we listened to the news in shocked silence.
I felt sick. “That’s so gross, Cin! Not that I really cared for the guy. But his daughter Tamara is pretty cool.”
Cindy wiped her eyes. “It’s a horrible thing. I mean politically, I didn’t really care for him either. He was a little too slick for my taste. But he didn’t deserve to be murdered. Poor Tamara!”
Cindy’s mom, Dottie, came through the door with some delicious looking pastries. “You girls didn’t eat much dinner, but I thought you’d be ready for dessert by now.” She saw our faces. “What’s wrong?”
Cin waved away the tray. “Ugh! They just said on the news they found a piece of one of Joe Everett’s bodyguards washed up on Manhattan Beach. They definitely were all murdered, and thrown into the ocean.”
Dottie turned her back on the TV. “Oh! That’s disgusting.”
“What do ya think they’re gonna do for a funeral, Cin? You think they’ll just bury the Senator’s hand that washed up on the beach?” I had to ask.
“Glori!” Cin and her mom gave me “the look.”
The doorbell rang in the distance, and a moment later, Cindy’s dad, Bud Bainbridge, led George and Marion into the room. George’s face was on fire. His wife looked hysterical – she was wringing her hands.
“Who is David Henning?” he roared.
Now Cin was scared – she backed into a chair. “He, he’s Dr. Payne’s friend.”
“Dr. Payne? Who is Dr. Payne? And who is this friend? Dr. Payne’s friend that came to my daughter’s room the past three days, without my knowledge or permission? Dr. Payne’s friend that wants to take her out on a date, after he gets back from his business trip. Do we even know what business he is in?” George was turning redder as he screamed louder with each phrase.
Pacing wildly, he suddenly stopped in front of Cindy. “Dr. Payne’s friend that gave my daughter a massive diamond ring that looks like it was stolen from a museum somewhere! Just so she would wait for him to come back from his business trip?”
“Diamond ring?” Cindy and I locked eyes.
“Debbie has no idea who this guy is! But, she’s wearing his ring! Her best friends, who were supposedly taking care of her, have no idea who this guy is! Her doctor, who is nowhere to be found, allowed all this to happen without saying a word to this child’s parents!”
Bud grabbed George’s arm as he began circling again. “George, you’ve got to calm down. You look like you’re having a stroke.”
He helped him to a chair. George collapsed, and put his head in his hands. Dottie assisted Marion to a seat beside him.
“George, it sounds like you need to get hold of Dr. Gallagher. He must have a personal cell phone,” Bud said calmly. He seemed truly concerned for old George.
“Well, he doesn’t answer it.” George sounded defeated. At least he had lowered his voice.
“Let’s try it again, then.”
Just as George located his phone, it rang. “Yes? Gallagher! Problems with your beeper? I’ll give you problems with your beeper!” George hollered into the phone at him.
“I need to know, who is David Henning? Why was he allowed to visit my daughter over the past three days? Without my knowledge or consent! Why is my daughter wearing his diamond ring, waiting for him to get back from his business trip? I’m told you know this man, Gallagher, so maybe you can explain all this to me! Just what business is he in?”
Cindy and I gaped at him, like we’d hear Gallagher’s response.
“Get to the point, Gallagher!” George looked like he’d reach through the phone to kill him. “Nice, intelligent young man? ... Hospital benefactor? ... And frankly, you don’t know him well? But you do know he’s a friend of Dr. Payne’s? ... Perhaps Bill knows more about him and his business?” George’s gruff monotone of repetitions was the calm before the storm. “You SOB! You mean to tell me, you let that man in to see my daughter, and you don’t know anything about him? And this ring?”
I braced myself for the finale. George was pacing like a caged lion again.
“Upset? Of course I’m upset! My child’s doctor is introducing her to strange men, because she’s impressed with him? This is positively frightening! This is positively outrageous! What in hell does my daughter know, to be impressed with someone? She’s so sick she can barely lift her head off the pillow. She’s nineteen years old! She’s a mere child! What in hell does she know?”
“George!” Marion hated profanity, especially in front of people like the Bainbridges.
“I’m not done with you, Gallagher!” George clicked the phone. “Useless, positively useless, this guy is! Now I need to track down a Dr. Bill Payne. Apparently this Henning character is some great friend of his. Let’s go, Marion. Sorry Bud, Dottie. Sorry we’ve made such a scene. But this is unbelievable. I thought my child was getting the best care.”
“It’s okay, George. We understand. I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”
“I don’t see how it can, Bud.” George took Marion by the arm and marched her out.
I heard Bud and Dottie close the door behind the Aldridges. “Oh crap, Cin! He said Dr. Bill Payne.”
“Pain-away Payne? Ohhhhhhh.” Cindy clutched her chest
“Shit, Cindy, the guy’s a drug dealer.”
***
George had a private investigator on the case that night. When Cindy’s dad called to check and see if George had a stroke, he got another earful on the phone. Cin and I heard half of that conversation too. It confirmed what I already knew. The guy had plenty of money, and the only explanation for it was that it was drug money.
I had a few auditions for bit parts and some modeling jobs, but it was a slow time for me. So I ended up going with Cindy to the hospital most days. It was a way to keep busy and keep my mind off my own problems. Plus, the whole show with the Aldridges drew me in like a soap opera.
In spite of her parents’ horror over the incident, Debbie’s health was improving. Because of David, she focused all her efforts on getting well, and fantasized with us about that wonderful “date” they’d have. We heard the “sweetheart” story about a thousand times.
“Oh Cindy, isn’t it beautiful!” Debbie would stare for hours at the huge diamond loosely encircling her left ring finger. None of us had eve
r seen anything like it.
“Yes, honey, it’s an amazing ring. It must be an heirloom or something. The setting is so unusual. I wish I could make out the inscription on the inside.” Cindy was fascinated.
“Yeah, that looks like it was worn off centuries ago. Looks like a royal logo or something.”
“Logo? Glori, where do you come up with these things?” Cindy laughed.
“Well, George was right. It does look like it was stolen from a museum.”
“David would never steal anything!” Debbie felt it was important to defend her newfound boyfriend.
I lost patience and scorned her. “How would you know? You don’t know a thing about him, do you?”
“Glori!” Cindy would never let anyone hurt Debbie, and she was afraid of this line of conversation.
I dug my heels in and defended my mean streak. “Well, she doesn’t. I guess no one really does.”
Two weeks later, Debbie was well enough to go home. Thrilled as her parents were with her incredible recovery, the issue of David Henning hung over them like a dark cloud. George hired more private investigators. They all came back with the same information—he was somehow deeply involved in the drug world. That was all anyone could find out about this mystery man. The best news was that no one knew where he was, and maybe, hopefully, he wouldn’t be coming back.
Oblivious to all the turmoil, Debbie settled in her fantasy world waiting for David’s return. She began painting.
David
There was an uneasy truce between Juan Rodriguez and Alfonso Pizarro. Business was excellent for both men. Their legions of workers and their armies were roughly equivalent. Although they each coveted the other’s wealth and power, the time was not right to begin a war.
Both men profited from their association with United States Senator Joe Everett. Both men had political aspirations of their own. Senator Everett was concerned with politics and power – but most of all – money. The almighty dollar was his god. He really didn’t care who was in power in South America – or anywhere for that matter – as long as he could make money somehow. Until the Senator’s untimely death, Rodriguez was his man.
Killer Cupid (The Redemption Series: Book 1) Page 4
