Eden felt sick again and couldn’t speak for a while. So many things ran through her mind that it made her head hurt. She focused and thought about what the doctor had said to her and remembered what Katheryn told her about Gabri.
“I think Gabri took her to New York to confirm things,” she said softly.
“Did he say if he would contact you about what he found out?” He paused and could see Eden’s misery as she shook her head. “Maybe it would be good for you to do as he suggested then. See if you can confirm for yourself what Rafe told you and your suspicions.”
Eden lifted her chin. “Or confirm she was sick and confused, and I pressured her into confessing something untrue because of my own guilt,” she said racked with misery and pain because it seemed even more fault may rest at her feet.
5
INSIDE THE YELLOW New York taxi, Julia Hawthorn and Eden Kingsley were on their way to Strawberry Fields in Central Park. Julia made an appointment with Lauren Street, the realtor listed as the agent who sold Ettore Salvaggio’s apartment. She told Ms. Street’s assistant they wanted to discuss Mr. Salvaggio and his daughter.
Ms. Street’s assistant said the realtor only had a short time between showings. Ms. Street liked to relax and have her lunch in Central Park on clear days, so the assistant arranged for them to meet her there. They were to look for her on the bench in front of the Imagine Medallion. Ms. Street would be wearing her gray pantsuit with an off-white blouse with a black cashmere full-length winter coat and would be watching for them.
The taxi pulled over close to the West 72nd Street park entrance. The park was covered with snow not entirely white anymore. The footprints of people and animals as they went off the paths to play occasionally broke up the snow. As Eden got out of the cab, Julia paid the driver. Eden looked around anxiously for the striking black woman Rafe had described.
“All right,” said Julia after she finished with the taxi. “We’ll have to walk in a bit to get to the medallion.”
“Okay,” said Eden nervously. She was worried about meeting and talking with the woman Rafe had an affair with, and it showed.
“Come on,” said Julia as she took her arm gently and led her into the park.
Julia had been working very hard to help Eden through everything and be there for her. One thing she knew not to do was say anything bad or negative about Rafe right now. She had told Eden a lot of stories about Rafe since she left. Julia wasn’t sure at the moment if the stories were helping Eden get over Rafe or making her stay connected to Rafe. She knew it made Eden want to have her over to visit a lot, and she would take it for now.
“Rafe and I used to come here,” she said trying to be cheerful and calming for Eden. “Rafe was friends with a dance troupe. They all went to the performing arts school and came to the park to dance for money. I came with her one time, and it was a lot of fun,” she said, remembering the last day she saw Rafe before she left for school in Italy. “I think they let her join them because of her sexy dance moves, the ones that got her expelled.” She laughed hoping to put Eden at ease. “She probably joined them out of spite for being kicked out of school.”
Eden didn’t respond, and Julia knew it was because she was trying to control her anxiety. They walked along the snow-cleared path in silence, and in a short time, they saw the medallion in front of them. Soon, they could see the word Imagine, and they looked around at the people sitting on the benches reading, eating, visiting or just sitting quietly. There were a few performers out braving the cold further down the path and many people walking through the park. It was cold out but surprisingly mild for a New York December day.
“I don’t see her,” said Eden looking around for the woman Rafe had described.
Inspecting the line of benches, Julia saw several people with gray suits and long coats, but only one was wearing an off-white blouse. She gently put her hand on Eden’s arm. “I’m going over to ask around. You stay here.” She left Eden standing on the side of the path and approached the woman in the off-white blouse. “Pardon me,” she said politely. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for a Lauren Street. Would you be her?”
The woman looked up at Julia and smiled. “Why, yes, darling. Are you my lunch appointment?”
Julia stood stunned. Lauren Street was not what she had expected. Lauren was in her late sixties and obviously not a stunning black woman. She looked more like a Jewish grandmother—a beautiful one, but still not what she had expected from what Eden had told her. “Uhm,” Julia said as she regained her composure, “are you the Lauren Street who helped with Mr. Salvaggio’s apartment?”
“I am,” said the lovely woman as she smiled up at Julia. “A pleasure,” she said and offered her hand for a short but firm shake.
“Julia,” she answered as Ms. Street released her hand.
“My assistant said you needed to speak with me about his daughter. You know her friend was here over a month ago, don’t you? We had a fascinating conversation, to say the least,” she said gracefully and laughed softly.
“Yes, I know,” said Julia still a bit thrown, “or at least I suspected.” She looked over her shoulder at Eden then back again. “Listen, let me get my friend and let her know I’ve found you. Then I’ll be right back.”
“Of course, darling,” said Ms. Street and wrapped up her lunch.
Julia made her way over to Eden and stood close to her. “This is crazy,” Julia said nervously. “That woman is not what you described at all. Are you sure about the description Rafe gave you?”
“I’m sure,” said Eden as she looked over at the smartly dressed elderly woman in misery because it was looking like Gabri was right about what had happened. “Let’s just go ask what happened. Maybe Rafe was talking about her assistant or someone else named Lauren in the company.”
They made their way back over to Ms. Street and sat down on the bench. “This is Eden Kingsley,” said Julia, “and I’m Julia Hawthorn.”
“Hawthorn?” Ms. Street repeated. “Are you part of Hawthorn Financial?”
“It’s my fathers’ company,” Julia confirmed. “I work in the California office.”
“I remember Mr. Salvaggio talking about the company. He recommended it to several clients.”
“He did?” Julia asked surprised. She wondered if her father knew.
“Oh, yes,” she confirmed. “The firm is still on our approved recommendation list. People are always asking us about all kinds of local businesses.”
Eden touched Julia on the arm. “Can we ask about Rafe?” she asked softly.
“Oh, yes,” said Julia noting Eden was getting anxious and impatient. “Our friend Rafe, Ms. Salvaggio, is sick, and she’s getting help, but something happened here when she was in her father’s apartment, and we were wondering if you remember and if you can tell us what happened to her.”
“I do remember,” she said with a firm nod. “I told Ms. Salvaggio’s friend what happened. The translator said Ms. Salvaggio couldn’t remember.”
She took a sip of her warm drink and looked up at the two women who were looking back in anticipation, so she began recounting what she recalled.
“I was helping select the things to be left for staging. Ms. Salvaggio seemed to need the help. There was so much to do, and everything was a bit overwhelming. I walked into the bedroom to ask her a question, and she was on the floor weeping in grief for her father. I tried to comfort her and contact the number in her phone saved as I.C.E., in case of emergency, but got no reply.” She watched as the blond woman’s face flushed red.
“So,” Lauren continued, “I helped her to the guest room to lie down. I went back to marking things throughout the house. I was in the dining room when I smelled something burning. I made my way through the apartment to the kitchen and then to the living room. It was there I found her surrounded by black smoke burning a painting in the gas fireplace,” she said, looking at them scandalized. “Well, I couldn’t let her burn anything and possibly ruin the fireplace
. Not to mention, creating an off-putting odor that might discourage buyers! I grabbed the tongs, even though they were decorative, and got the painting out of the fire and ran it to the kitchen where I doused it with water.”
Lauren took another sip of her drink to wet her throat. “When I went back into the living room, she was distraught and said she had to burn the painting. I told her that she couldn’t do it there and would have to do it somewhere more appropriate. She just got a funny look on her face and hugged me and told me I was right. She then started crying again.”
She frowned at the memory. “I took her to the kitchen to wash the black soot from the ash and smoke off her hands and arms, and then I took her back to her room and told her to rest. When I finished with everything in the house, I went to let her know and check on her. When I woke her up, she just started crying and was inconsolable, so I tried the number in her phone again with no luck. I was afraid to leave her, so I stayed and comforted her for a time and talked to her about her father. Then, when she was calmed, I asked her to join me for an early dinner to forget about everything for a while.”
Lauren smiled and put her hand to her mouth to cover her lips. She saw the two women were serious, but the memory was a happy one for her. “We went out and had a wonderful evening. She was such a darling, and everyone loved her wherever we went. We had a wonderful Italian dinner where the chef came out and spoke with her in Italian and brought us special things to the table. Then, since it was still early, we went to a performance in the park. I just love it here in the park,” she said and looked around.
She brought herself back to the subject and continued. “Ms. Salvaggio apparently knew several of the dancers, and they invited us for drinks. After leaving the dancers, I shared a cab with her and dropped her off at the apartment and made sure she made it inside. Then I went home exhausted.” Ms. Street chuckled at the memory.
“The next morning, she was fine. I brought some Bar Keepers Friend and other cleaning supplies over, and she helped me get the black soot off the marble and decorative copper on the fireplace mantle. Ms. Salvaggio mentioned she needed to go to the funeral home and take care of things there. I remember she was very anxious to get back home. She was upset she had to stay in New York longer because of all her father’s business. Before I left, we got through the rest of the arrangements and paperwork we needed to finalize to get the apartment on the market.”
Ms. Street smiled at the women and then took another sip of her warm tea. “That’s all really until she came back a short time later. I wasn’t able to see her when she got into town, but we did speak on the phone. She seemed on edge still and upset. I thought it was being in the apartment again and suggested she get out and have some fun with a friend. She refused and said she couldn’t do it again but didn’t explain why. Of course, I couldn’t stay out to all hours with her. I can only take so many late nights at my age and once was enough for me! I’m spry, but I still need my sleep!” she said with a chuckle. “So, other than seeing her at the apartment the day after the funeral, I don’t know what she did. All our transactions were done through Ms. Salvaggio’s lawyer.”
Eden frowned at the woman. It was hard to imagine Rafe crying inconsolably. It wasn’t something she ever remembered Rafe doing. “So, your assistant wasn’t there?”
“No,” she said, “she only works from the office. I need someone to take calls, set appointments, and prepare paperwork while I’m with clients. If I need help at a listing, I call my decorator or a cleaning crew. Sometimes I am the cleaning crew,” she joked. “But I usually have contract workers at listings when the client isn’t there. It’s easier on everyone. Sometimes clients get in the way of my system. They all know what will happen before they list with me, though. They know I’m very good at what I do. Buy or sell a house on any street with Lauren Street—that’s my byline,” she said with a chuckle. My late husband’s was worse,” she revealed with a smile, “and it wouldn’t go over with the political correctness of today.”
Julia saw Eden was upset then turned her attention to Ms. Street again. “Did you see Ms. Salvaggio with, as she described her, a stunning black woman who had coppery colored lipstick and was very well dressed?”
Ms. Street wrinkled her brow thoughtfully for a moment. “Not that I can recall. I have an excellent memory for faces, and I’m sure I would remember someone with copper-colored lipstick.”
“Can you tell us the names of the dancers she met with?” Julia asked. “Maybe one of them can tell us something.”
“Oh, yes!” said Ms. Street. “They were all such darlings. One was Hannah, and another was Miguel, and the other was, oh, let’s see,” she thought, “Geisel, yes, that was it. She didn’t speak much at first. I think she was from France and when Hannah told Ms. Salvaggio why she seemed so shy, well, the three girls apparently had a very nice conversation. I was very well taken care of by Miguel.” She smiled. “Such a sweet boy. I think he was gay and had considered introducing him to my grandson.”
“Do you remember where they were performing?” Julia asked hopefully. She remembered Rafe had dated Hannah before she went to Italy, and she had seen her in France a few times. Also, she fits the description of a striking black woman Rafe gave Eden. It was just strange Rafe would confuse Hannah with Lauren. Unless Rafe was lying about who she had the affair with all this time. Julia took in Eden’s desolate demeanor and made the decision to keep what she knew about Hannah to herself for now. No sense upsetting Eden more until she knew something for certain.
“Oh, yes, it was Winter Theater,” she said with a nod, “but their troupe left for France the next day. They were talking about how lucky it was Ms. Salvaggio was in New York for their final night. We parted ways because they had to finish packing and be accounted for by the troupe manager.”
Eden rubbed her temples in frustration caused by the fact this was the only person they could talk with, and she didn’t know who Rafe was talking about. She had an image in her head now of the woman Rafe described and could not wipe it from her mind. But after listening to this woman, Eden thought maybe Gabri was right and that Rafe did create the whole scenario and the woman to fill the gap in her memory. She remembered getting the flowers and using them as proof of the affair and didn’t understand why Rafe would admit having an affair with Lauren when it was clear she had not. Maybe Rafe had an affair and just let her think it was Lauren for some reason. She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said softly.
“Is there anyone else who may have information about Ms. Salvaggio back then?” asked Julia.
“If you think someone visited her, you can ask to look at the guest log at the manager’s desk,” Ms. Street suggested. “All visitors must check in before they’re allowed in the elevators unless they have an elevator card. Usually, just the apartment owners or tenants have those. They list their full name and apartment they’re visiting. Then the desk calls to announce them and sends them up to the appropriate floor. It’s a building with rigorous privacy and security procedures. It’s the reason the apartment sold so fast. The amenities are everything people want. Ms. Salvaggio made quite a profit on the sale. It went well above listing because of the bidding war.”
“Thank you,” said Julia. “I’ll call and see if they’ll give us the information. Thank you so much for your time.”
“You’re very welcome, darling,” Ms. Street said sweetly. “Mr. Salvaggio was one of the best brokers I ever worked with since my husband died. They were similar in many of the same ways. He talked about his daughter a lot, and I was honored when she chose me to help her sell the apartment.”
Julia stood and shook Ms. Street’s hand then Eden offered her hand, too. “The flowers you sent Rafe were beautiful,” Eden said softly.
“I’m glad you enjoyed them,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t know she was coming back to New York so fast, so I had them sent to her in California. I hope she gets well soon.”
“Me too,” said Eden then
let Julia lead her down the path. “I think I’m going to be sick,” said Eden with a trembling voice as she held on to Julia. “I should have answered the phone. I should have asked more questions. I should have.” She couldn’t say anything more because it was all she could do not to fall apart.
Julia was too stunned by what was revealed to speak at the moment, also. When they got out of the park, Julia hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take them back to the apartment owned by her parents. They rode there in silence.
When they got up to the apartment, Julia led Eden to her father’s office where Eden sat on the couch, and Julia looked up phone numbers and made some calls. While Julia was on the phone, Eden looked up and saw the photos of Julia and Rafe pinned on the wall.
She got up and went over to look at them. She held her hand to her mouth trying not to let out the sound on the sob waiting there. She had never seen this many pictures of Rafe when she was so young in one place. There were only a few at the house of Rafe and her parents and some graduation photos of her. All those photos were gone now.
Eden wiped away a tear as she studied the pictures. Rafe looked so serious in most of them. Only in a few was she holding still or in proper focus. It seemed like all but three or four of the photos were taken to intentionally have only Julia in focus and as the actual subject. Even out of focus, Eden could see Rafe was a beautiful teenager.
“Rafe took all those,” said Julia as she walked up behind Eden, wanting to put her arms around her. It was getting harder to hold back her feelings, but Julia knew it was only a matter of time before she would be able to make love to Eden like she did in her dreams. Julia cleared her mind and focused on the photos. “She was awful at getting into the shot before the timer went off and took the photo.”
“I was wondering why they were all so blurry,” said Eden and took a shaky breath. “Why are they here?”
Cyprian the Fair Page 4
