Glamour Puss

by R. J. Kaiser

  “That must have made her wonder.”

  “I’m sure it did.”

  “Mac, do you think bringing an investigator into it is a good idea? I mean, things seem to be going from bad to worse.”

  “What else can we do?”

  Stella forced another dramatic pause, then said, “One thing I do know for sure, Mac. We’ve got to stick together.”

  “I agree.”

  Silence. Then, “Oh, God…”

  Mac heard what sounded like a little sob. “Stella?”

  She sniffled. “I’m all right. It’s…it’s just…so hard.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m…afraid.”

  “Everything will be fine,” he said. “We’ve got to keep our heads.”

  “I know… It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “Mac, I’m feeling shaky, vulnerable. Would…would you come over?”

  Her words hit him and he felt their weight, the weight of her need, the burden of her helplessness. “Stella, I can’t now. I’m late for an appointment with my accountant and then I’ve got to get to the office.”

  “I don’t mean to be a bother… I just thought.”

  “Everything is going to be okay,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Mac?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe this is happening for a reason. Have you considered that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, maybe we’ve taken too much for granted. Maybe we need to take a fresh look at our lives. Sit down and have a real talk, heart-to-heart.”

  He still wasn’t sure what she was getting at, but it was clearly a change in attitude from the past. Could she really think that her neediness would change things? Regardless of what she thought, she was vulnerable and he knew he had to be careful with her. “Yes, we probably do need to talk,” he said. “Let me check how the next few days are shaping up and I’ll get back to you.”

  “All right.”

  “Let me know if you hear from Caldron in the meantime.”

  “I will.”

  “Stella…”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re right. We do have to stick together.”

  “It’s the story of our lives, isn’t it, Mac?”

  He hung up then, feeling as low as he had in months. Was it his imagination or were things coming apart at the seams?

  A few minutes later he backed the Lexus out of the garage and started around the circular drive. For some reason, he wasn’t sure why, he glanced toward the front door and noticed what looked like an envelope taped to it.

  Mac stopped, got out of the car and went to the front door. It was an envelope all right, with his name printed on it in block letters, just like the last note. For a moment he stared at it, almost afraid to touch it. But then he did, tearing it off the door.

  The note inside was cryptic just like the first. It said:

  AUBREY ST. GEORGE IS DEAD AND YOU’RE A MILLIONAIRE. THAT HARDLY SEEMS FAIR.

  He read it over a couple of times, then stuffed the note back in the envelope and put it in his pocket.

  No doubt about it. His world was crumbling fast.

  Pacific Palisades

  Troy stood in Venita’s shower, letting the water pound on his head as he struggled to make sense of the bizarre turn of events. He’d been awakened a couple of hours earlier from a sound sleep by the maid’s cries out in the hallway. Noticing that Venita was no longer in bed, he’d gotten up, put on a robe and went out to see what was going on. The commotion seemed to have shifted outside.

  He’d gone to the small study across the hall from the master suite with a view of the back garden. From there he’d seen Jugnu, a rope in hand, rush out to where Venita stood by the low wall. Moments later the servant pulled Percy Gaylord up the cliff. Troy couldn’t believe it. The whole thing had been bizarre, but not nearly so bizarre as when he’d watched Venita shove the journalist off the cliff. He’d seen it all. One moment Percy was there, the next he was gone. The sucker had to have fallen to his death. Just as surprising was Venita’s reaction. No panic, no distress. The episode over, she’d calmly returned to the house. Unseen, Troy had quickly retreated to the bed they’d shared and feigned sleep. But his heart had pounded, mostly because he still couldn’t believe it.

  What Percy Gaylord was doing there to begin with Troy couldn’t be sure, though the cameras were a pretty good clue he was after dirt. Venita had made no secret of the fact she hated the guy and considered him a snake. But now the question was, what did he do with his secret knowledge? His instinct was to wait and see. Having something on Venita could prove useful.

  It was incredible, the things that fell into a person’s lap, Troy thought. First his parents’ dark secret. Now Venita’s. And wouldn’t it be ironic if he was able to use all three of them to his advantage? Maybe his time in the sun really had come.

  Venita leaned toward the bathroom mirror, applying mascara as Troy Hampton sang lustily in the shower. She hoped he wouldn’t emerge wanting sex because she wasn’t in the mood. The image of Percy Gaylord’s crumpled body lying at the base of the cliff haunted her. Plus she fretted over how best to handle the police when they arrived, as they assuredly would. She was confident Jugnu would not betray her. Cala had seen nothing—Venita had confirmed that with Jugnu—nor had Arjay, who hadn’t come to breakfast until after Venita had had her coffee. Troy had been blissfully asleep.

  There was always a chance someone in one of the homes on the hill opposite them had been looking out a window. However, the distance was considerable and, apart from being able to testify that a woman had done the deed, it was unlikely she could be identified as the culprit—unless, of course, they happened to be gazing through a telescope. But at that hour, it was unlikely. If she had been seen, surely she would have received a visit from the police by now. More likely the police wouldn’t become involved until Percy’s body was found.

  Venita had her story ready. She would acknowledge having a less than amicable relationship with Percy Gaylord because of her celebrity. He was a tabloid journalist and everybody knew how unwanted that particular brand of vermin was. Percy, she’d say, had undoubtedly climbed the cliff to get pictures of her. She would admit she and her guests frequently did cavort about in the buff. Getting candid snaps of them was clearly his objective. The man obviously fell to his death before he’d succeeded. It was simple, clean, logical, entirely believable. Why would they think Percy had been given a shove?

  The shower stopped and Troy stepped out. Venita tossed him a towel, but not until giving his ego a boost by observing his hard, lean, fat-free body. He had a big white-toothed grin on his pretty face.

  “How’s my goddess?” he asked.

  “Struggling to become beautiful.”

  “With you, Venita, it comes naturally.”

  “My, but aren’t you the quick learner?”

  “You inspire me,” he said as he finished drying himself.

  She glanced down at his cock, already half-erect, smiled and turned back to the mirror to complete her makeup. Moments later, Troy slipped up behind her, encircling her with his long, strong arms, cupping her breasts. She could feel the shaft of his penis rise hard against her backside.

  “Aren’t you the randy one this morning.”

  “You turn me on,” he said, kissing her neck and running his thumbs over her nipples, the friction making them hard through the silk. “Must be your mysterious, dangerous nature.”

  “You think of me as dangerous?”

  “Yes, and it’s really a turn-on. Hasn’t anybody described you that way before?”

  “Not dangerous.”

  “Not even that politician, what was his name?”

  “Ramda Bol?”

  “Yeah, him.”

  “I believed Ramda considered me formidable, not dangerous.”

  “Then maybe I see something others don’t,” he said.

  The comment gave her pause. “Whatever do
you mean, Troy?” she asked, turning to face him.

  “Nothing. Maybe I’m better tuned in to the real you, Venita.”

  His smile suggested he was simply mucking around. “Well, you certainly are in high spirits this morning. What’s gotten into you?”

  “I’ve been wondering. Remember when you said that in India women your age often take men my age for lovers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do they ever marry them?”

  The question brought her up short. She looked into his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was just curious if you see me as a lay, or if anything… let’s say, more long-lasting has entered your mind.”

  Venita turned back to the mirror and resumed applying her mascara. “You’re aware, Troy, that’s a very dangerous question for a man to ask a woman.”

  “A dangerous question for a dangerous woman.”

  Venita wondered at all this talk of danger. The thought did cross her mind that he may have heard or seen something of her encounter with Percy, but she dismissed the notion. The boy couldn’t be that cool. More likely he was trying to show he was man enough for even a formidable woman such as herself.

  He leaned against the vanity, his arms folded over his chest, and watched until she was through with her makeup. When she was finished, she put down the mascara wand. “Okay, why this sudden talk of a serious relationship?”

  “I guess I know what I want, Venita. The question is, do you?”

  “I’m interested in a good deal more than that blade you so urgently wish to shove between my legs. But I’m also understanding of the male mind,” she told him. “I know how quickly young men lose interest. When the day arrives that you find my head and heart as interesting as my Golden Lotus, then I may take you more seriously. Until that time, I shall regard you as a boy toy, thinking first and foremost of the pleasure you bring me. Does that answer your question?”

  “Say I come into a couple of million soon. Would that change things?”

  Again, his comment gave her pause. Was he posturing, or was he to be taken seriously? “Do you plan on coming into a couple of million?”

  “Yes,” he said, “as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “How so?”

  “Family money.”

  “Your father is a young man, Troy. Surely you aren’t expecting him to pass on and leave you his fortune.”

  “No, but it’s possible he’ll decide to share it with me.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No, I’m dead serious.”

  She looked at him skeptically, but he didn’t waver.

  “You’ve said a lot in the course of very few minutes,” she said. “There’s a lot to digest.”

  “I know, but I wanted to make sure we’re thinking along the same lines.” He grinned at her.

  Venita was baffled by his sudden confidence. The boy didn’t lack for gumption, but he’d certainly awoke full of himself. What was behind this? she wondered. A young man’s bravado? Or, was he a man in the making—in every sense of the word? Talk was very cheap, indeed, but this was America where boys with computers became millionaires every day.

  She would remain cautious because she had been burnt before, but how wonderful to think that there might be a basis for what he was saying. For a day that had begun abominably, perhaps this one would prove glorious, after all. How fantastic that would be.

  But Venita was perfectly well aware that her young lover had to be handled carefully. After all, with Percy Gaylord lying in the bottom of the ravine, her situation was most delicate. If she could but weather the storm…

  “So, what do you think?” he asked when she hadn’t answered him.

  “I’m cautious by nature, Troy,” she told him, “especially in matters of the heart.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Anything’s possible, though.”

  “True,” he said. “You never know, do you, Venita?”

  Studio City

  Mac got out of his car and was headed for the entrance to the administration building when he saw a white Ford Escort enter the gate. It was Jade.

  He’d intended to call her from the office and let her know that he’d received a second note, so her arrival was timely. When she jumped out of her car and headed for the warehouse, Mac figured she was probably on her way to see Art.

  He called to her across the parking lot and she stopped. Seeing him, she ambled in his direction. She was in jeans and a pink T-shirt. She wore dark glasses. Her big purse was slung over her shoulder.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  “You have a meeting with Art?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting a stack of personnel files from him. Wanted to do some preliminary work. But I’m not neglecting your situation, Mac. I’ve been thinking about it, trying to come up with a strategy. So far no brilliant ideas have occurred.”

  Unable to see her eyes because of the dark glasses, he became very aware of her mouth, which was more sensuous than he recalled. “There have been developments.”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “Jaime Caldron came by at the crack of dawn.”

  “And?”

  “Basically accused me of being implicated in Aubrey St. George’s death.”

  “No kidding.”

  “I think it was intended as a shot across my bow. But more importantly still, I got another anonymous note. I found it taped to my door as I was leaving for work.”

  Jade’s brows rose. “What did it say?”

  Mac pulled the envelope from his pocket. “See for yourself.”

  “You want me to read it?” she asked, surprised.

  “It doesn’t say anything more than what Caldron said, so you might as well.”

  She took the note from the envelope and read it, then looked up at him with hidden eyes. He was sorry she had on the glasses because he would have liked to know what her eyes were saying.

  “There’s an oblique reference to money,” she noted, handing back the note and envelope.

  “Yes,” he said, returning them to his pocket. “I’ve thought all along that’s where this is headed. I expect the next one will ask that I share my wealth. The first note, by the way, alluded to my possible complicity in Aubrey’s death.”

  Her jaw went a little slack and, again, Mac really hated it that he couldn’t see her eyes.

  “Why are you telling me now?”

  He drew a slow breath. “With Caldron on the warpath, everything’s out in the open, or will be soon. There’s no point in being coy.”

  She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him. Her sunglasses bothered him more than ever.

  “You want to come to my office and talk?” he asked. “I can have my secretary let Art know you’ll be late.”

  “That’s all right, we don’t have a definite appointment.”

  They began walking toward the admin building.

  “I guess your secret admirer is convinced he…or she…has something on you,” she said.

  Mac was relieved her tone was analytical rather than accusatory. “I guess. The question is where they get their information, where this is coming from.”

  “It’s pretty general, Mac. This note could have been written by anybody who had suspicions about you. Wasn’t there gossip about your wife at the time it happened?”

  “Yes, but these notes were directed at me.”

  “You’re married to her and you’re the one with the money.”

  They entered the building. Mac’s office was in a large corner suite that occupied nearly a third of the ground floor. His secretary, Bev Wallace, greeted them. She was forty-two, had short brown hair and glasses, and was plainly dressed, with more the look of a den mother than an executive secretary. But she’d been with Mac for a dozen years and was the epitome of efficiency. She also knew the business backward and forward.

  “Have one of the girls bring us coffee, would you, Bev?”

  “Sure. Cream or sugar?” she asked Jade
.

  “You wouldn’t have tea, by any chance?”

  “I’m sure I can find something.”

  “Oh, sorry, forgot to introduce you two,” Mac said. “Bev, this is Jade Morro. She’ll be doing some investigative work for us, mostly the Pool Maids division. Jade, Bev Wallace.”

  “Welcome,” Bev said.

  “Thanks.”

  The two women exchanged smiles. Mac led the way into his private office. Jade went immediately to the leather sofa, dropping her purse at her feet with a thud. Mac closed the door, then took a quick look at the telephone messages on the corner of his desk before joining her. He sat in one of the leather armchairs. He was glad to see Jade had removed her sunglasses. She opened her purse and stuffed them inside, reminding him of the way she’d dealt with her purse in his living room. It was still odd to think of her with a gun.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked.

  She pondered his question, absently running her fingers through her hair. “If you want to know the truth, something doesn’t feel quite right to me.”

  “How so?”

  “It doesn’t seem like the work of a blackmailer. It’s more like death by a thousand cuts. Somebody who wants money tends to hit hard and make demands up front. To me this is more like a campaign of intimidation, somebody wanting to annoy you.”

  “If it’s annoy, they’ve succeeded. I’ve kind of thought the intent was to provoke. That’s why, at first, I thought maybe Jaime Caldron was behind it. He, at least, has the knowledge and a motive.”

  Jade shook her head. “I don’t know the guy, but that doesn’t ring true. Besides, it seems a little heavy-handed to pay a visit and then leave a note.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Mac watched her. He wanted to ask what she thought of him. She had to wonder if there was anything to the accusations. And he wanted to tell her that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. But Jade, he gathered, wasn’t evaluating guilt. She was trying to determine the origin of the notes.

  There was a rap on his door and Bev stuck her head in. “Stella’s here to see you, Mac.”

  “Stella?”

  “Yes. Shall I get her a cup of coffee and have her wait?”

  Mac glanced at Jade, who was looking at her hands. He wanted to tell Bev to send Stella away but, recalling how upset she’d been when they spoke, he realized he’d better see her. “Tell her to give me a minute, Bev.”