Planned Coincidence: A Thrilling Suspense Novel (International Mystery & Crime)

by Dana Arama

  "Why, because you married the guy you were dating in high school?"

  "Not really.” I smiled. He was not far from the truth, but the phases I went through to get there were far from boring.

  "You didn’t really go out, or not really while in high school?"

  "The reality was much more complex. I was an art student in Paris when I got the news that my parents and sister were killed in a car accident. I immediately left France and the man with whom I lived, not knowing if I’d ever see him again, and I went back to the small apartment in Or-Yehuda, in which we sat the shivah. The whole family: five uncles on my mother’s side and two sisters on my father’s. They choked me with love and care, but none of them could stand next to me and run the business.”

  "What business was it?”

  "The Reuben Gallery in Tel Aviv.”

  "That gallery has been around for quite a number of years…”

  "That's right. You can’t imagine how happy it makes me that people who are far from the art world know of the Reuben Gallery. My father was like a pillar for Israeli art. He promoted hundreds of artists who are well known today, including a lot of new immigrants.”

  "Wow. Nice, you were really young to run such a successful gallery.”

  "The gallery wasn’t successful at all. Right after the shivah I dived into the work. I knew I had to fill my father's big shoes. I had no idea! I hadn’t even come to terms with the loss, and then the first eviction notice arrived. It hit me without any warning. Pretty soon, creditors were chasing me too. I was in danger of losing the apartment I’d inherited.”

  "And you got out of that mess by yourself,” he said appreciatively.

  "I wish you were right. Aside from the obvious fact that I’d loved my parents intensely, I appreciated the struggle for survival they’d waged over the years. Like your mother, they struggled to teach us self-realization. It was unusual, especially in Or-Yehuda. My parents made sure to help artists who were just starting out. I felt I had to preserve this heritage. I fought for it, the only memory of the existence of my parents.”

  "From Or-Yehuda to here.” He looked around. “All in all, your parents did a good job. They taught you to get along with life.”

  "Today, I’m organized." I smiled. “But then, I felt lost. The war against destitution was impossible. In desperation, I turned to Pierre, the man I lived with in France with, for help. I didn’t want charity. I wanted to make him a partner, but his condition for helping was that I return to Paris. I refused. From Paris I couldn’t maintain my father's memory. He knew this, but did nothing to help. I felt he betrayed me.”

  "How did you get out of it?”

  "I fought for another year with the authorities. Just before the crash, the hero who saved me, Dan, who later became my husband, arrived.” I pointed at Guy and smiled. “You were right about that. Dan and I knew each other from childhood, at school. All the girls fancied him. Many years later, he bumped into me at an exhibition I’d organized.” Back then, I did not know it would be a package deal that would include his parents and his brother.

  "Then you pursued your young love.”

  I did not know what to say. At that time, another man came into my life: Amir, a young officer in the army. At that time, I was jumping around from the gallery, which opened three days a week, to a café where I worked the other days as a waitress, and the bar where I waited tables on Friday night. I met him at one of these places. Our big love was set to fail. I was too tired to take backpacking trips and too busy to spend vacations with him. Still, we kept the relationship going for a few months. More than once, I wondered what would have happened if I was not so tired, or had Dan had not been there - Dan, who offered me the rest I was so hungry for.

  We continued to talk until the heat and humidity drove us in. He was unaware of how much the conversation helped me escape my fears. For the first time, I appreciated Guy’s presence in my life and I was hoping that maybe it would become a friendship.

  Rachel arrived while I was in my room. Today, I preferred to be coiffed at home. To go out to one of the top beauty salons would be a suicide mission. The exposure I would receive in the evening would be more than enough for a long time, and I knew that I would have to meet sharp criticism without words being said.

  I sat on the chair and Rachel stood behind me. "You look great. I'm glad you called me."

  "Thank you, Rachel." I looked at the ‘new me’ from every direction.

  "You’re shining again. What a shame for a beautiful woman to hide behind these walls."

  In the evening, as I was getting ready to leave, I knew she was right. The little bit of glamor that I had lost in recent years glowed anew as I looked at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I knew, small changes like a new hairdo can raise morale and confidence. Together with my little black dress and high-heeled pumps, I was a winning formula.

  Guy was wearing his new clothes and waiting patiently in the living room. I looked down at him, as I had learned to do recently. His appearance in the well-cut suit was spectacular. I was looking for the young moshavnik I got to work for me just a few days ago. There was no sign of him. When he turned, he saw me standing at the foot of the stairs.

  "Something wrong? Is it because I’m not wearing the purple shirt?"

  "You need a tie. We forgot to buy one. Do you want to come up to choose?"

  "You look unhappy about something.” He came lightly toward me on the steps. "Is it only the tie?"

  I wanted to tell him that the problem was him… his broad shoulders, his glare, and his masculine jaw. He radiated sex appeal. I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t how I wanted to return to society, that I felt flirty in his presence, that, in fact, I did not want to go out. "I think a red tie will suit you. There’s one in Dan’s closet."

  This was the first time that another man had walked me to my bedroom. If only I were braver, I would suggest that we forget the concert and go to bed together, I thought. We went into the brightly lit closet, our images reflected in the large mirror. I caught him checking me out in the mirror. I smiled.

  With a hoarse voice, he said, "You look very…” After a pause, he continued, "… nice.” I had heard this tone yesterday. I was experienced enough to recognize when a man was aroused.

  I turned to him in surprise. "Thanks. You, too." I tried to hold on to innocent images to curb the cravings that rose in me, but physical proximity to his strong, firm body was not easy for me. In my mind, I imagined I’d get phone calls tomorrow, the opinions of those predators who would want to be my friend again, the whispers behind my back. He looked like a treat for all the gossips I knew. In the depths of my mind, I heard a voice say that it would be better to give up the whole process, but something in his look made me want to go on. I had not yet decided whether to fall into his arms or continue to choose a tie.

  I took a blue tie with red stripes from the tie drawer and approached him. First, I straightened his collar and then I wrapped both hands around his neck, to arrange the tie in the right place. The light mist of my perfume mingled with the masculine scent of his aftershave.

  "Didn’t you say a red tie?"

  "I was confused. I meant this one," I lied. The tie I chose was the sister of the tie I had meant to find - the red one with blue stripes. We had chosen them in New York. Besides the fact that they were beautiful, they were a private joke of ours. DKNY ties; the DK also stood for Dan Korman. I believed that the red tie was the one he wore the day he was kidnapped. It was not found on him, nor was it in the closet. A last look in the mirror told me that we looked good together. Maybe too good.

  ***

  My quiet panic began when we found parking available in the parking lot of the Cultural Center. My heart was beating fast and my face was flooded with sweat. I turned on the light in the vehicle to check my make-up. I felt worse than I looked in my little mirror. My makeup was normal and my heart was still beating.

  "Don’t worry. It’ll be fine!" He warmed his words with a smile.
I was sure he had gotten into the character he was supposed to embody. This feeling intensified when he left the car and walked round to open the door for me. This was the first time he’d done so. Somehow, I found strength from his strength.

  We went in, and I felt the stares pierce me like pins. I was a familiar figure on the Tel Aviv scene and, since the case involving Dan and Robbie, I had become a familiar figure around the country. The rumor mill, churning out speculation about me, ranged from suspicion that I had suffered a nervous breakdown to finding a new partner. It now had clear direction. I nodded politely and tolerantly to my former friends. None of them stopped to talk to me, perhaps for fear of having to shake hands with Guy.

  "Just remember that there’s no statute of limitations on murder," I heard a voice say behind me.

  I turned around in panic. Nathaniel stood there, with a glass of white wine in his hand, looking at me and Guy with a snobby gaze.

  "Can you please get me a white wine?" I asked Guy. I preferred to hold this conversation with my former brother-in-law in private. "It’s too bad that the statute of limitations doesn’t apply to other crimes, too, right Nathaniel?" I commented quietly, and immediately added in a seemingly conciliatory voice, "How are you?" Not because I wanted to know, but to demonstrate composure. The Kormans had always made me feel that I was not one of them, and since the link between us had disappeared, I became more like a scratch on the record. Each sign of embarrassment from me gave them a sense of victory.

  "I followed you then, and I follow you today," he whispered venomously. "I know exactly what you’re guilty of!"

  "A little obsessive, wouldn’t you say? The fact that I’m breathing makes me guilty? Of what?" I felt the blood rush to my face. I was glad my makeup concealed it.

  "On the day he was kidnapped, you met with Pierre. I was sure that you would go with him to a hotel - but no, you delivered him to the airport and then went to a hotel to meet with someone else. For me, you’re the reason they’re dead!”

  I felt myself go pale. Pasting a false smirk on my face, I asked, "Are you accusing me of murder? It's a little dramatic, even for you."

  "I'll make sure they reopen the case and investigate you. And we’ll see if this drama will continue to follow you."

  "That’ll be really interesting, given that, this moment, you’ve provided me a solid alibi." I felt the panic come back. If someone really began to explore, I would have to tell the truth. I drew a deep breath intended to release some pressure, but with the expression I wore on my face, I was hoping it seemed as if I was bored with the conversation.

  "You just add insult to injury wasting family money on a young playboy!" he added in a whisper. Nathaniel made me sound like an old pervert, but I knew that the money was what really what interested him.

  I gave the young model standing next to him an amused look. I wanted to ask him if he would also be escorting her to her prom, but I said nothing. I hoped for her sake that she had no expectations of a serious relationship with him. I knew how violent the Korman boys could be. Dan I had managed to soften up throughout the years. Nathaniel never had his limits.

  An elegant man, also quite like Dan, sailed toward us from the other side of the hall. On his arm was a young woman with a tense face. "Gabriella? This is so disrespectful to Dan and Robbie." Lily was able to be angry even when she smiled. All her anger was concentrated in the venom of her words and her gaze. If she stretched her face any more, her skin could tear.

  "Lily, Avner, hello to you too." Avner extended a cold hand to shake mine.

  "To show up like this for the first time in public, Gabriella? What were you thinking?" Avner's eyebrows contracted. I could feel the cold wind that blew from his eyes.

  "Three years of mourning was enough." I smiled at them. "I don’t have to justify my survival." Twenty years in this family gave me the ability to fight while politely smiling.

  "I'm sure you can think of a more honorable way.” Her fake smile could not sweeten the bitterness that dripped from her.

  "I can’t imagine any way that would be respectable enough for you, except disappearing from your life." Deliberately, I waved my hand in front of their faces. I wanted them to see the wedding ring on my finger that continued to sparkle. The gesture did not help.

  "You shame the ring on your finger," Lily said.

  I ignored her words.

  "See how long you can continue with your cheap amusement without the family’s money," Avner said quietly. "We won’t allow you to shame our name."

  I smiled at him. "Avner, people can hear us even when you whisper. You cause more damage to the family by threatening me. I know that you’d prefer to see me buried in the house, but -" I could see Guy coming toward me with two glasses of wine. "Have a nice evening," I said to them, quickly cutting off the conversation. I turned to face him, ready to take the glass from his hand. Now, more than ever, I felt the need to mix alcohol in my blood and dull my nerves. Maybe another glass will save me tonight, I thought as I drained the one in my hand.

  ***

  The first part of the concert was over. The music was still playing in my ears, familiar and relaxing. We stepped into a crowd of people in the lobby. In the passageway on the other side of the hall, I recognized two familiar characters. They waved their hands with joy and I returned a wave to them. I knew that this gesture of recognition was the only way to ensure their share of the gossip.

  We stood at the side and Guy looked at me. "Is something or someone bothering you?" he asked quietly while scanning the room.

  "Everything and everyone is bothering me," I whispered in reply.

  He understood exactly what I meant. "Do you want me to get you another drink?" It seemed to me that he also wanted to take the focus off himself.

  "I’d love another glass of white wine. Thank you." Distant acquaintances took advantage of his absence to come over to me, finally, but Lilia was the first. "You look wonderful, my dear," she said with a smile full of Botox.

  "Thanks, Lilia, you too. What's new with you?" Apart from the lips, I thought.

  "What is new with me isn’t nearly as interesting as what’s new with you… where did you find him?" I heard very well the admiration in her voice. At home, I had pondered every possible scenario except for one: the direct question.

  "A mutual friend introduced us," I muttered. I avoided details. Lilia had never been more than the neighbor who replaces young gardeners like socks.

  "Listen," she whispered in my ear, "this is the way to come back! Have fun with life and explode them all!" Against my will, I smiled at her. I wondered if by ‘them’ she meant the Kormans or the other dignitaries in the audience. Either way, I was happy to get at least one honest cheer. Two more acquaintances stopped by me. I managed to kiss them politely just before Guy came back with a glass of white wine for me and a bottle of water for himself.

  The eyes of all the women focused on us as he smiled at me. It was embarrassing. I took the glass from his hand and started to walk back to my seat in the auditorium. I preferred to settle in the seat reserved for me in the front row while the hall was still empty. Otherwise, I knew I would feel like I was walking on a catwalk completely naked. I drank while I was thinking of my new threat. The Korman family had their eyes on my income. Could they take it at will? Tomorrow, I thought, I have to clarify this issue with Yoram. Maybe even with Ohad. On the other hand, he is the family lawyer. Maybe my new journey also needed to include a new attorney?

  The ringing bell heralding the end of the break pulled me from my thoughts. I asked for Guy to excuse me a moment and I got up again. I went back out, headed toward the bathroom. I longed for a moment to myself. I was hoping that now that the bell had rung, the restroom would be empty and give me a second alone. I started to make my way through the stream of people returning to their seats.

  Two rows behind us, my breath stopped again when my eyes met Sergey Vlotzky’s. Immediately, I hated the arrogant look on his face. A slight movement of the h
ead and the edge of a smile made it clear that he remembered me. Women sat on either side of him. . To his right sat a beautiful redhead, and to his left, a striking brunette. I wondered which of them accompanied him to the event and what she was to him. I remembered the pictures of his willowy blonde wife.

  An instant panic gripped me and I steadied myself against the wall. I did not want to be exposed to weakness. I hurried out. I thought, If I linger too long, Guy will understand and come after me? I changed direction and instead of turning to the right, I turned first to the buffet. More alcohol will strengthen my nerves, I thought

  I did not finish the wine. A momentary dizziness was enough for me to realize it was a mistake. I went to the empty bathroom and looked at myself in the big mirror. I seemed really upset. “It really was a mistake to come here,” I said to my reflection. I felt a wave of nausea and went to the bathroom stall to vomit. When I straightened up, I felt a little better. Too much wine or too much emotion? I wondered, knowing that it was probably too much of both. I flushed the toilet and turned around, ready to go.

  I froze. Hanging half in and half out of the stall was a red tie with blue stripes.

  I shivered before an involuntary scream burst out of my lungs. I stayed rooted to the spot, keeping as far as possible from the tie. I could not move my hand and feel it. I had a feeling that Dan was added to the variety of characters that haunted me now. I finally held out two fingers and touched it, turning it. I looked in disbelief at the initials. They were there, large and clear. I opened the door quickly. In front of the mirror was a woman with long blonde hair wearing a tight blue dress. She was fixing her makeup. She looked at me in shock. "Has something happened?" She had a strong Russian accent. It made me shy away from her.

  "Did you see who put this tie there?" I asked, holding it in my shaking hands.

  "There was a redheaded girl here. Maybe she did it.” She walked over and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Do you want me to bring you some water? You don’t look so good."