Innocent Little Crimes

by C. S. Lakin

  Della remembered the interviewer asking about Lila after the show, but she’d brushed him off. She was riding the crest of excitement, distracted by adoring fans piling up backstage. She knew she’d given a great performance—better than Lila could have done. That part was hers from the beginning, until it got snatched out of her hands. But she showed them all. Della got what she wanted. Praise, attention, glory. And all of it so short-lived.

  Della tried hard to remember her last days at Evergreen. She’d left her strict, suffocating Catholic background in upper New York State to come to the West Coast, to bury herself in college. And how did she spend that time? In meaningless affairs, in acting. In pretending to be someone else, anyone else. And then it all ended and there had been nowhere to go.

  She sighed and lit a cigarette.

  Lila spoke from behind the couch, startling Della. “Those things will kill you, you know? But then, that’s probably why you smoke them.”

  Della fumbled for the cigarette she dropped into her lap. How long had Lila been standing there?

  “Like Andy Warhol said, everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame.” Della snapped the scrapbook shut as Lila came around to sit on the couch beside her. “Here,” Lila said, picking up the bottle of wine, “let me pour you another drink. You need it.”

  “Like a hole in the head.”

  “Della, Della, look at you.” Lila pressed her face close to Della’s. “You’ve become a shadow of your former self. In fact you remind me of me—in college. Scared, self-conscious, afraid of what everyone thinks. How the tables have turned.” Lila poured herself a glass of wine and sipped in thoughtful silence. “Ah, ’03 Chardonnay, Alexander Valley. Are you impressed? I don’t know beans about wine, but I pretend I do. Now, what was I saying? Oh, how the tables have turned. Don’t you find it amusing, really?”

  Della knew what Lila implied was true. Although, back in school she would have never thought it possible. Lila now displayed the confidence, the fearlessness that Della once embodied and somehow, somewhere, had lost.

  “You know, you used to talk a lot more, too. Always had something clever to say to everyone. I remember when I did stagecraft I’d hear you from the wings. Precious gems of wisdom to all those swarming around you. And those big, black eyes. Stopped ’em dead in their tracks. You were gorgeous then, a real beauty. But then, you knew that, didn’t you?”

  Lila squeezed Della’s arm with affection. “Maybe this is life’s irony. Ugly, doormat Lila has the success and stardom, and Della gets to see what it’s like on the floor.”

  “Maybe . . .”

  “You know, I bet you’re wondering what happened that night. Why I blew my big chance at stardom on the college stage. Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Lila leaned close in conspiracy. “I brought you all here this weekend to tell you the whole story. Not everyone from Thespians, but just this cozy group. Because each of you played your own important little part.”

  Della tried hard to recall her last year at Evergreen. How were all of them connected? Those days, fifteen years ago, all blurred in Della’s mind. She felt Lila’s hand gripping her arm a little too tightly, lifting her up from the couch.

  “Come on, Della-most-likely-to-succeed, it’s time you went to bed.”

  Della managed to stand. Despair welled in her chest. Her stomach churned mercilessly. “Lila, I have to ask a favor. I need to start over. I don’t know where to go . . .”

  “There, there,” Lila said, leading her down the hall to her room. “Like the wizard says: ‘The Great and powerful Oz has every intention of granting your request.’ But, no favors until Sunday, after the party’s over. And it’s not over until the fat lady sings.”

  Della looked at Lila through fogged eyes. What did she just say?

  Lila ushered her into her bedroom, then lowered her down on the bed. She picked up Della’s purse and rummaged through it. “Nice assortment in here. Daniel must have kept the local druggists happy with all these prescriptions.”

  “Daniel?” Della fought off an engulfing stupor.

  “Daniel. Your shrink. Ex-shrink, now. Here,” Lila said, handing her two small white pills. “Take two and call me in the morning.”

  Della felt Lila press something into the palm of her hand. As she dropped the pills into her mouth, she heard the door close. Something tugged at the back of her mind.

  How did Lila know about Daniel? No one, not even her brother, knew about him.

  Her thought drifted off, out of reach, as she fell into a hard sleep on top of the lace coverlet.

  Dick paced the room while Millie rummaged through the dresser drawer.

  “What a layout. What a hell of a place. Like something you’d see on a movie set. Damn, but that fat lady has class.”

  “More like a prison than a castle. All this heavy furniture and those velvet drapes.” Millie took out her pajamas and started getting undressed.

  “It’s still early. What are you turning in for?”

  “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I know I can fall asleep.”

  “Well, I’m not tired. My first vacation in years and I’m not gonna go to bed with the chickens.”

  “You don’t have to, but I’m exhausted.” She climbed the little step-ladder in front of the ponderous bed and slipped under the quilt. The thick goose-down comforter felt luxurious and dispelled the chill in the room.

  “Go ahead, sleep your life away. I’m going to find the others.”

  Dick left. Millie wondered how her little girls were doing with their stern grandmother. How she missed them. An ache sat heavy in her gut. She had bad feelings about this weekend. Really bad feelings.

  Dick hurried down the long, dark corridor until he reached the living room. The large room was empty. All the lights were out except for one small table lamp. Outside, the wind moaned and whistled through cracks in the front door. Dick’s spirit sunk, like a kid whose mechanical toy wound down too soon. He turned, and not knowing what else to do with himself, started back to his dreary wife.

  Jonathan, reading on his bed reading, turned the last page over and closed the script. He’d read it dozens of times before, yet it still held him. No, gripped him. It was fantastic. Lila would be crazy not to want to do it. Actors would kill for a part like this. She’d play a psycho who killed all her lovers after sex. Maybe she’d have to drop a little weight to make the role believable, but, hey, she’d do it for her art. This script was his ticket to ride.

  Maybe he should get some shut-eye. As he undressed, he pictured all the great sex he and Melodie could have had in this kinky bed. He hoped she had a hell of a time getting back to L.A. Maybe some trucker picked her up on the highway and raped her. She deserved it for deserting him.

  Lila found Peter in the kitchen sipping a cappuccino.

  “All the little babes sweetly nestled in their beds?” he asked.

  “Snug as little bugs in a rug.”

  “Chickens waiting to be plucked.”

  “Flies caught in the spider’s web.”

  They both laughed at their silly word games.

  “They’re all exactly how you described them, Li. As motley a crew as ever lived.”

  Lila pinched her lips together and felt her blood stir, the way it did before she stepped on stage in front of a cheering crowd. Well, Peter, my precious co-conspirator. You will have entertainment you’ll never forget. This will be the weekend from hell.

  Chapter 13

  Saturday, March 7

  Jonathan yelled over the roar of the surf. “Dammit, Della, move your skinny ass!” He rubbed his gloved hands together as he watched the volleyball roll across the boundary line drawn in the wet sand. Clouds threatened rain overhead and the wind whipped at them, but for the moment the air was crisp and dry in the morning light.

  “If you care so much, you should have gone after it.” Della took her time retrieving the ball.

  Millie called from the other side of the net. “Sorry, Della. Bad serve.” Della
waved her off.

  “Come on, come on,” Jonathan said.

  Della threw the ball back to him and promptly sat down on the sand. She reached for a blanket and wrapped herself up, then lit a cigarette.

  Dick groaned. “Don’t do this to us, Della. We’re getting killed out here.” Della ignored him.

  Lila yelled. “Play ball!”

  Peter crouched into position next to her. “Come on, Jonny boy. Sock it to me.”

  Jonathan gave the ball a loud thwack and delivered it right into the net. Dick groaned again.“Hey, I haven’t played volleyball since high school. Besides, we’ve got the head wind against us.”

  Davis laughed. He and Cynthia were on Lila and Peter’s team. They were ahead eight to three. “Hey, we’re sports, aren’t we, gang? Let’s change sides.” He started under the net.

  “It’s still going to be unfair—four against three.” Jonathan said, glaring at Della.

  Dick stood facing Lila, his back against the net. “Okay, have you heard this one? This guy goes to a whore house and the madam says to him, whatever you do, don’t go into room number one. Go into room two only. So he goes upstairs, but there’s a long line in front of room number two. He needs to get laid bad, and he doesn’t want to wait. So he goes into room number one and there’s this broad laying on the bed. He jumps her bones and leaves, satisfied. The madam is surprised to see him back so soon. How come? she asks. He says he ain’t into waiting, he took the whore in room one. The madam gets upset. She says, I told you not to go in there. That woman is dead. He looks at her puzzled and says, no wonder she reminded me of my wife.” Dick laughed as the others groaned.

  He pointed to Lila. “Maybe I should have pursued a career in comedy, instead of mulling over budgets. I could do snappy one-liners with you, on your show. What do you think?”

  Lila ignored him.

  Cynthia walked off the court. “I’ll join Della. My stomach’s upset anyway.” She dropped down next to Della, and huddled against her knees. “What an awful day for volleyball.”

  “You said it.”

  Lila sidled up next to Davis in front of the net. “Now I’ve got you to myself, loverboy.” She lowered her voice. “Remember what it was like back then? Just you and me, under the lights?”

  Davis backed away and turned his attention to the game. “Whose serve is it?”

  Lila inched closer to him. “You know, I really thought you were in love with me. How foolish I was. Of course, you were just absorbed in your role—a true actor. Living your part. How was I to know a genius was at work?”

  Davis fumbled. “Hey, it was a long time ago.”

  “Yes. It was.” She took his arm and he flinched.

  “You know, Davis, you made out good. Not the money I have, but a nice nest egg—all those blue chip investments. Your Jag, the condos in Novato, the new shopping center. Lucky you pulled that one off. It’s going to make you even richer. And with Cynthia’s money, you’ll never have to work again. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. A lot of people would kill to have it as easy as you.”

  “I work plenty hard.” Davis shook off her arm. “And how do you know so much about my personal life?”

  “Oh,” Lila said, returning a serve that came over the net, “I’ve got long ears, the better to keep tabs on you.”

  Davis wondered what on earth she was talking about.

  “So, you’re really convinced she’s it.” Lila nodded to Cynthia sitting on the sand. “Those other two didn’t work out, did they?”

  Davis stiffened. How did she know about Claire and Denise? Or did she? Was this some kind of bluff? Was she really up on the details of his life? Now he was getting angry.

  “So, she’s the one you’re going to marry, huh? So young, so easy to mold. She worships you, you know? Wonder if she’d feel differently if she really knew you.”

  That did it. “Cynthia knows me inside out. And she loves me for who I am. I don’t have to pretend with her.”

  “Like you did with me?”

  “Oh Christ, Lila,” Davis said, keeping his voice low. “We were in a play. You said it yourself, we were acting—caught up in our roles. I can’t help it if you took it another way.”

  Jon made a bullhorn with his hands. “Hey, you two, wake up. There’s a game happening here.”

  “Okay.” Peter held up his arm. “Nine-three service.” He lobbed the ball across court. Dick set it up for the spike, but Millie responded too slowly, missing the ball by a foot.

  Dick clenched his fists. “Can’t you do anything right?”

  Millie’s face flushed. “I can’t run that fast.”

  “You could if you lost a few pounds.”

  Millie clamped her mouth shut.

  Jonathan volleyed the ball over the net. “I can’t believe you stayed in Oly. Such a redneck town.”

  “Oh, it’s not that bad,” Dick said.

  “I forgot you were from Tacoma. ‘Glaucoma,’ we used to call it. Remember? So, how do you like politics?”

  “There’s nothing like it. You get to spend millions of other people’s dollars. You get to control the destiny of an entire city. Come visit sometime. I’ll show you all the great projects I’ve instituted. Got the state’s first recycling center off the ground.”

  “Really?” Jonathan’s face displayed his disinterest.

  “So, look at your great life,” Dick said. “It must be fantastic working with all those stars. Making all that money. And screwing all those gorgeous women. So what are you doing these days? One of those cop shows? Not that I keep up. I never watch TV.”

  “Right. I don’t do episodes, Ferrol.” He concentrated on slapping the ball coming over the net. “Episode directing is the armpit of Hollywood. Beginning directors do that garbage, not me.”

  “I hear it pays well.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not worth the hassle. All you are is a traffic cop for some pissant star, who, just because he has some rating points, acts like a twelve-year-old. I do MOW’s and Longform. Anyway, I’m getting into features now. That’s where the big bucks are.”

  Della heard Jon. “Hey, Levin—the stuff you do is garbage.”

  Jonathan missed the next ball. It rolled over to Lila. He shouted back at Della. “You should talk, Della. Your whole life is garbage. You look like garbage. You wouldn’t know classy if it hit you in the face.”

  Della stood up and flipped her cigarette butt onto the sand. She crossed the court while Lila held the ball, an amused look on her face.

  Jonathan planted his feet. “It’s easy for you to gripe about my career, Della. You blew yours big time.”

  “What—are you referring to the ‘big break’ you offered me? My opportunity of a lifetime?”

  “I’m referring to your entire life, Roman.”

  “Oh, just because I wouldn’t kiss your royal ass? Because I walked out on you? I suppose I blew my big chance to drag along on your shirttail. To bask in the shadow of your overinflated ego. Which, by the way, was the only thing you were able to keep inflated.”

  Peter laughed. “Ooh hoo, low blow.”

  “You walked out on me? That’s a joke. I tossed your bags on the sidewalk. Keep popping all those pills baby, and you’ll really rewrite your dirty history.”

  “Screw you, Jew boy!”

  Peter shook his head. “Not nice, Della.”

  Cynthia got up and walked over to Davis. “I want to go home,” she said. He pulled his attention away from the argument and looked at her.

  “What, darling?” He searched her face.

  Cynthia spoke louder. “I mean it. These people are despicable. You told me to tell you if I wanted to leave and I’m telling you now. I think we should go home.”

  Davis stroked her hair and nodded. “Okay, darling. I’ll take care of it. Just a sec.”

  Della stormed off through the woods in the direction of the castle. Jonathan chased after her. “Hey—you don’t walk away from me!”

  Peter smiled. “Guess they have so
me unfinished business to take care of.”

  “Everyone here has some unfinished business,” said Lila.

  “What do you mean?” Dick said.

  Lila waved him away. “Later, Dick. I guess our game has been called on account of bad temper. We win by default. Peter, be a love and help me with the net. I don’t want to leave it out. That storm is moving in like gangbusters.”

  Cynthia pulled on Davis’s sleeve and reminded him with her eyes.

  “Uh, Lila,” Davis said. “Can I talk with you for a sec?”

  Lila let go of the net in her hands. “Speak up, loverboy. I’m all ears.”

  Davis hesitated. Cynthia spoke instead. “Lila, we appreciate your hospitality, we really do. I just don’t feel comfortable here and I’d like to go home.”

  Lila laughed. “Why, Dorothy, did you bring your ruby slippers?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “If you had your ruby slippers, you could wish your way back to Kansas. But, since you seem to have left them at home, you’ll have to wait for old Dobson and he won’t be back with the boat until tomorrow. Surely you can wait another measly ol’ twenty-four hours?”

  “Don’t you have a phone or a radio? Can’t I make a call for another pick-up? There must be someone else around here who has a boat.”

  “Well, actually I have a CB and a boat. But the boat’s in the shop at Crane Island and unfortunately, the CB is in the boat. I’m afraid you’re stuck for the weekend. But, Cynthie, dear heart, have a little patience with us old folks. I know it’s all been so dull up till now. I promise you, it will get much more interesting.”

  Cynthia looked at Davis. He shrugged and gave her a weak smile. He tried, hadn’t he?

  Lila spoke again. “There’s nothing Prince Charming can do for you. Come on. Let’s get inside and batten down the hatches. Just look at that mean old ugly sky. We’re gonna have us one helluva storm.”