Mobbed

by Carol Higgins Clark

  Nora and Regan pulled Edna aside as the others walked ahead. “If you promised Karen that sideboard, do you think it’s a good idea to sell it? She’s already upset,” Nora said quietly.

  Edna waved her hand, then whispered. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to sell it. But maybe I’ll talk the guy into something else,” she whispered. “Jody said he’s desperate. Come inside and watch me do my stuff,” she said with a wink, then hurried to say good-bye to her friends.

  Nora turned to Regan. “What happened in town?”

  “I spoke to the landscaper about Cleo but he has no idea where she might have gone. I’m trying to figure out what to do next. In some ways my hands are tied. I can’t put a trace on her cell phone or credit cards yet. It’s too soon to call the police.”

  “Nora, Regan, come on.”

  They caught up to Edna and followed her into the house.

  “Mrs. Frawley,” Jody said, “this man just loves your sideboard and insists he’s not leaving without it.”

  “Can I help you two with anything?” Jody asked the Reillys as Edna went into the dining room with the shopper.

  “No, thanks,” Regan answered.

  “You two have been here for quite a while,” Jody said, her smile forced.

  Jody doesn’t want us around, Regan thought.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I couldn’t possibly sell that piece,” Edna said, her voice loud and clear. “I’m not interested.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Frawley, why not?”

  Regan turned to her mother and smiled. “Let’s go watch.” Jody extended her arm to block the way. “Don’t go in there, please.”

  “Why not?”

  “If Edna decides to sell, she’ll get a better price if no one is listening,” she whispered.

  Regan frowned. “You heard her. She doesn’t want to sell the piece.”

  “She says that, but for the right price she might change her mind.”

  “She won’t change her mind,” Nora said decisively. “Let us through.”

  56

  Daisy was trying hard to lose herself in the scene they were shooting which was supposed to be zany and fun. She and her new love pull to the side of the road to fix their flat tire and realize the engine isn’t in the best shape, either.

  What if Cleo’s car broke down somewhere? Daisy wondered as the cameras were rolling. What if she decided to start driving down to Florida to surprise me? It’s my fault if something happened to her. I already feel so guilty that she had to go to New Jersey all by herself.

  After they did the first take, the director walked over to her, put his hand on her shoulder, and led her off to the side. “Daisy, I want you to look like you’re having the time of your life. You and Kyle are madly in love and everything is wonderful. The audience has to feel that and fall in love with you, too. That way when April tries to strangle you they’ll be jumping out of their seats and screaming. Capiche?”

  “Capiche,” Daisy answered. Cleo would be furious with me if I blew this scene worrying about her, she thought. She was always a pro. Like the time she was on her way to the set of My Super Super and someone sideswiped her car. Cleo was a little banged up but refused to go to the hospital.

  “I can’t be late,” she’d told the police officer, and then asked him to call her a cab. Cleo said she’d done her best work that day. “I had to focus,” she said. “It was only that night when I realized how much my bones ached!”

  Focus, Daisy told herself as the crew prepared to start the scene again.

  Kyle winked at her. “We’ll get it right this time.”

  When the director called for action, Daisy opened the hood of the car. Steam was pouring out from the engine. She smiled broadly, leaned over, and closed her eyes.

  “What are you doing?” Kyle asked.

  “I could use a facial,” Daisy answered, turning her head to the left and right, before she started to cough.

  “What’s a facial?”

  The director smiled as he watched the action on a video screen. When the scene was over he yelled, “Cut!” and jumped out of his chair. “That’s it!”

  Daisy’s throat felt dry from breathing the artificial smoke. The makeup girl handed her a bottle of water, then patted her face with a sponge. They did the scene two more times. While the crew was moving the camera from one side of the car to the other, Daisy snuck a look at her cell phone.

  Cleo still hadn’t called back.

  I thought it felt lousy when I checked my phone to see if a certain guy had called and he hadn’t, Daisy thought. That’s nothing compared to the emptiness I feel right now. Cleo didn’t want to tell me that she was leaving the house because she wanted me to concentrate on the movie. I’m trying, Cleo, Daisy thought. But who made you leave? And where did you go? Did you tell me anything that might give a hint? Cleo, you’re my best friend, I should remember something you told me that might help Regan Reilly find you.

  Please be OK, Cleo. Please.

  57

  The guy who wanted to buy Edna’s sideboard was middle-aged, dressed in a cheap suit, and had an affected air. He gave Regan the creeps.

  “I didn’t see anything else at all in your home that interests me, Mrs. Frawley,” he said disdainfully. “It’s the sideboard or nothing.”

  “Nothing!” Edna stated. “Please leave! You are rude and insulting.”

  “Well, excuse me!” He turned and charged out the door.

  Jody tried to make amends. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sometimes people say they don’t want to sell something but for the right price …”

  Oh sure, Regan thought. I bet you’re making a percentage on everything that’s sold.

  Regan conferred with Edna and Nora, then she went up to Karen’s room, shut the door, and called Jack.

  “I’m getting there!” he said when he answered the phone. “Maybe another twenty minutes.”

  Regan smiled. “Great. Come straight to Edna’s house,” she said, speaking quietly. Shoppers were outside in the hallway. Quickly she explained to him the latest developments. “You said you wanted to help?”

  “Anything for you.”

  “I’d love for your office to run a check on Cleo’s agent’s son. Maybe the agent, too. They claim to not know where Cleo is, and maybe they don’t, but I’m afraid if the son ran into her there would be trouble. He was furious when he left here.”

  “What are their names?”

  “Ronald Flake and Horace Flake. Horace is the son.”

  “I’ll call the office right away,” Jack said.

  After they hung up, Regan sat for a moment. I doubt Cleo went back to Los Angeles but it wouldn’t hurt to call her apartment building out there. Regan searched the Internet and found the name of the management company for Cleo’s building, then called their main number. Naturally she heard an automated recording that listed all her options. She pressed 0 for the operator and heard another recording. What does it take to get a human being to answer the phone? she wondered with frustration.

  Three more tries.

  “May I help you?” the operator asked.

  “Yes, I’d like to speak to the manager of Kings Way.”

  The operator didn’t feel the need to respond. She connected Regan to an extension without saying a word. A woman’s voice mail picked up. “Hi. This is Alicia Isabella Jurcisin. I’m not at my desk right now but …”

  Regan left a message for Alicia to please call her back. Next Regan tried to reach the operator again. This time it took four tries.

  “Hello,” Regan began when the operator picked up. “I was just connected to the manager of Kings Way but she’s not there. Can you give me the number of the superintendent of that building?”

  “One moment.”

  Regan waited.

  “The number of the office in that building is 323 …”

  “And the superintendent’s name?” Regan asked.

  “Rufus Spells.”

  “Thank you.” Regan hung up and dialed the n
umber. Why am I not surprised to hear another voice mail message? she wondered.

  “Hello, this is Rufus Spells. I will be away until August 8th. If you need help, please call Alicia Isabella Jurcisin at …”

  Regan hung up. I’ll have to wait and see if Alicia calls me back. And I really would like to speak to Daisy when she’s free. But now it’s time to do another Internet search of Cleo Paradise. When I looked her up this morning I only read the first few entries. I had no idea I’d become so interested in learning more about her. She typed in Cleo’s name.

  Scrolling down, Regan had dozens of articles to choose from. She clicked on one that caught her eye. “Cleo’s super not thrilled with her movie.”

  Rufus aka Dizzy Spells was shocked by the way Cleo Paradise mimicked his mannerisms for her role as the nutty super in My Super Super. He felt like he was being made fun of and refused to speak with us. We caught him on camera carrying a trash can of recyclables to the curb. Click on the video to watch his reaction.

  Oh brother, Regan thought as she accessed the video. Dizzy did have an awkward walk, but he was whistling while he worked. There was a sweetness about his demeanor. Sweet until the cameraman called out to him, “Hey, Dizzy, stick out your tongue for us the way Cleo did in the movie.”

  Dizzy glanced up at the camera, suddenly furious. He looked like he wanted to throw the garbage can. Instead he turned around and carried it back inside the building.

  I guess he has reason to dislike Cleo, Regan thought. I wish I’d seen the movie. She scrolled down for more articles and learned that Cleo loved to read and swim and walk on the beach. Not go in the ocean, though, Regan remembered. Judson said she’d been knocked over by a wave and it had really scared her.

  Regan then searched the Net for more about Dizzy. A video of him had just been posted from the Jersey Shore!

  Regan watched as Dizzy tried to put up a beach umbrella. She listened carefully to the voice-over, obviously narrated by a teenaged boy. “Caught on tape—the Super Super! My friends and I recorded this guy putting up his beach umbrella because it was so funny to watch. Look at him spill that suntan lotion all over himself. We had no idea who this dude was but he made us laugh. Then a plane with a banner flies by and his wife starts yelling at him about Cleo Paradise … Boy, did he get mad! See the plane? That’s when we figured out he was Cleo’s super! Look at him storm off! Lighten up, Dizzy. We think you’re super! This is brought to you from Seaside Heights at the Jersey Shore. August 4th.”

  Oh my God, Regan thought. He’s nearby.

  58

  Inside a bank lobby on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, Scott filled out a deposit slip, and got on line behind a delivery boy with a large bag of coins. When it was Scott’s turn, the number 13 was blinking on a board that indicated the next free window. He smiled and headed over.

  “Hello.” The teller stared straight at him, her gray eyes cold.

  “Hello.” Scott nervously slid the deposit slip and the check under the partition that separated them.

  The teller looked at both sides of the check several times and studied the deposit slip. She turned to her computer and started tapping away at the keyboard. The whole process was agonizing for Scott. He felt as if he’d passed a note demanding all the money in the bank. Finally she punched the check and the deposit slip in a machine, and handed him his receipt. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” Scott turned and made a beeline for the exit. Get me out of here, he thought. When he returned to his car, he felt euphoric. Impulsively he decided to call Hayley. He picked up his phone, found her name in his contact list, and was about to press send when a call came through. It was Jillian.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Where are you? Did you meet with the Binders?” she asked. “No, they cancelled. How’s it going at the Petrone garage sale?”

  “Not good,” she said.

  “Not good at all.”

  59

  Hayley had been sitting in the trendy rooftop restaurant with Carwood Douglas, producer of the upcoming celebrity therapist show, and his group of fawning assistants, for over an hour.

  “I have a thought,” Carwood pronounced. “At the party we should hand out little notebooks and pens. We’ll tell everyone to pretend they’re shrinks and to ask others how they feel. It would be quite the icebreaker, don’t you think? And of course there would be couches everywhere. Couches and tissue boxes.”

  “Wow, that’s fabulous,” one of his assistants enthused.

  “Brilliant,” another opined. “Absolutely brilliant.”

  “Hayley?” Carwood asked, tilting his champagne glass toward her.

  Hayley cleared her throat. “My feelings are that it would definitely work.”

  “Your feelings! How divine!” Carwood snapped his fingers. “Waiter, let’s have another bottle of champagne. Hayley, you are the perfect person to plan my soiree.”

  Something tells me this guy will never have a party, Hayley thought. He just wants to talk about it. “We’ll make it a smash,” she said, hedging her bets.

  “Hayley”—Carwood leaned toward her—“you want to know the biggest lesson I learned after years and years of therapy?”

  “Of course.”

  “What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger. Don’t you agree?”

  “I do.” And after the day I’ve had, I should be Hercules, Hayley thought, accepting a glass of champagne from the waiter. I’m dying to get out of here, and I can’t wait to talk to Regan. She still doesn’t know that the newly engaged Scott asked me out for Saturday.

  If only she could have followed him tonight.

  60

  I hate you, Cleo Paradise.

  You think you can fool me by running away to a log cabin camp?

  You can’t.

  I’m right here!

  Come out, come out, wherever you are.

  61

  Dirk had a firm grip on Cleo’s hand. “Nope, I’m not letting you go.” He looked up at her, smiling.

  For a second Cleo felt unsure. I’m in this guy’s cabin, I don’t really know him, and he’s holding my hand a little too tight. No one who cares about me has any idea where I am. I must be nuts. A million thoughts went running through Cleo’s mind. I’m registered under an assumed name. He could kill me and get away with it.

  Dirk softened his grip, then dropped her hand, turning his attention to his ankle. He winced as he adjusted the bag of ice. “This is starting to melt. Would you mind making a fresh one?”

  I’m too paranoid, Cleo told herself. Way too paranoid. This poor guy is in pain. I just spoke to his mother. What does it take for me to trust someone? “Of course,” she said quickly. “You’re sure you don’t want to have that ankle checked out by a doctor?”

  “I’m positive.”

  62

  Regan replayed the video of Dizzy Spells on the beach. He looked so angry when he stormed off, fueled by a fight with his wife about Cleo Paradise. Wilted flowers had been left for Cleo in Los Angeles, then in New Jersey. Could it have been Spells? If so, what might he do next? Daisy would know how much trouble Cleo actually had with him. Regan dialed Daisy’s number but reached her voice mail. She left a message, then tried the manager of Kings Way again.

  Regan was amazed when a human voice answered.

  “Hi, this is Alicia Jurcisin.”

  “Alicia, my name is Regan Reilly. I left you a message before. I’m at the Jersey Shore and I understand that Rufus Spells is here in Seaside Heights.”

  “He’ll be back at work on Monday,” Alicia said evasively.

  “I used to live in Los Angeles but I moved to New York. I’d love to see Dizzy while he’s here,” Regan explained, trying to give the impression they were old buddies. “Can you give me his cell phone number?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “I understand perfectly. Do you by any chance have the name of the hotel he’s staying at?”

  “He’s not at a hotel. He’s staying wit
h his wife’s family.”

  “Oh, how nice,” Regan said. “His wife, yes, her name is …”

  “Monique.”

  “I don’t suppose you could give me their number, could you? I’d hate to miss the chance to see them.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to give out a private number, either. If you’d like, I’ll take your number and send Dizzy a text message on his phone.”

  “I’d appreciate that. My name, again, is Regan Reilly and my number is …”

  “I’ll see he gets it,” Alicia said.

  “Thanks so much.” Regan hung up, doubtful that she’d ever hear from him. He doesn’t know who I am. And when he gets wind of the latest online video he won’t be in a great mood. He’ll have more reason to be furious with Cleo. If he’s the one who’s been leaving her the flowers, that really isn’t good.

  Regan typed Rufus’s name into the search box on her BlackBerry again and added the name “Monique” to her search. If I could only find her maiden name, Regan thought. Finally she did—a picture of Monique at a high school reunion. Monique Cammarizzo Spells.

  Regan started searching for Cammarizzo in Seaside Heights, New Jersey.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Regan said, still focused on her BlackBerry, her back to the door. “There’s the address,” she murmured. “But the phone is unlisted.” She was about to get up when a pair of arms encircled her.

  “Oh!” Regan gasped, then laughed as Jack leaned down and kissed her hello. “It’s you.”

  “Who’d you think it would be?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a crazy shopper who wanted this chair.” She leaned her head against his. “Don’t get comfortable. We’ve got to hit the road.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Seaside Heights.”

  “Who’s in Seaside Heights?”

  “Cleo’s super. I don’t think he’ll be happy to see us.”

  63