Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf)

by Drop-Dead Blonde (epub)

  While we were waiting for the elevator Cat and I checked out the Peace Sisters, who were alike enough to be twins, and they, in turn checked us out, and suddenly an almost palpable air of hostility seemed to permeate the space between us, for reasons I really couldn't name. When the elevator doors opened, the girls pressed ``2'' and Cat pressed ``P'' after inserting her card key into a little slot on the control panel. The twins studied the movement, and the dreamy smiles turned snide as they gave each other a knowing look. The exchange made me bristle slightly, and I moved protectively closer to my sister.

  We didn't have to put up with them for long, as a few moments later the double doors opened and the girls quickly stepped out. Cat elbowed me in the arm and said, ``Gee, and I was going to invite them to dinner.''

  I chuckled and added, ``And I was going to ask them for some fashion advice.''

  Cat flashed me the peace sign and we both rolled our eyes. By that time we'd reached the top floor, and the doors opened to a brightly lit hallway with pink floral wallpaper and rose colored carpeting. Cat looked at the signage and nodded her head toward the right. We walked down to the end of the corridor, then came to a stop in front of a double door with a plaque that read, PRESIDENTIAL SUITE, and Cat swiped her card key through the control panel to the right. BLIND SIGHTED 263 The door clicked and she pushed it open, and I caught my breath as we traversed the threshold.

  The suite was enormous, at least fifteen hundred square feet covered in thick white Berber carpeting and dreamy velvet furniture of a soft moss green. I walked into the sitting area and ran my hand across the top of one over- stuffed couch and smiled at the ticklish texture while eyeing the rest of the room. Across from the seating area was a large bar, complete with top-shelf liquors and mixes, a blender, and a refrigerator that I assumed was filled with some type of delicacy.

  All along the far wall were sliding glass doors that opened up to a gorgeous terrace. One of the sliding doors was already open, and a warm breeze fluttered the linen curtains and carried the scent and sound of the ocean only a few hundred yards away.

  I drifted outside and onto the terrace and stood gripping the railing and squinting into the sunshine of the day as I watched the waves roll in and seagulls hover on currents of air. I took a seat in one of the lounge chairs and allowed a most satisfied smirk to plaster itself onto my face. This is the life, I thought.

  A little while later I heard a blender at work, and within a few minutes Cat had joined me out on the terrace, where she took a seat next to me and handed me a glass of fro- zen margarita.

  ``I hope you don't mind if we bunk together, Abby; this was the only suite on this floor still available,'' Cat said.

  ``Oh, I'll make do,'' I said dramatically, adding a sigh for effect as I took a huge swig of margarita and marveled at my sister's bartending skills. I noticed she had changed out of her silk suit and into a pair of linen pants and a knit top. ``Did our luggage arrive from downstairs?''

  ``Yes, I put yours on your bed. You can change whenever you're ready.''

  ``Cool! You want to hit the beach?'' I said excitedly, jumping up from the chair ready to rush down to the beck- oning sand.

  ``Uh, no,'' Cat said, holding out her wrist and pointing to her watch. ``We won't have time. Deirdre's dinner semi- nar begins in an hour.'' 264 Victoria Laurie

  I glanced at my own watch and moaned. This was gonna suck. I took my chair again and pouted for a good ten minutes before I asked, ``So what's for dinner?''

  ``Sea scallops or chicken, I think,'' Cat said, tilting her face to the sun.

  ``I hate sea scallops,'' I grumbled moodily. ``And the chicken will probably be overcooked.''

  ``That's what I love about you, Abby, your positive atti- tude,'' Cat said dryly as she leaned back in her lounge chair and closed her eyes.

  I scowled at her and stuck out my tongue, punching the plastic straw into my drink testily. I waited for Cat to con- tinue the conversation, but she seemed content to quietly soak up the sun for a while, so I drank the rest of my margarita; then went inside to unpack and change.

  I entered the bedroom, which was large and splendid, with light rose�colored comforters topping two queen-size beds layered with soft cotton sheets. After unpacking my clothes I walked my toiletries into the bathroom and couldn't help saying, ``Wow,'' out loud.

  The bathroom was extravagant, with a large Jacuzzi tub, enclosed shower, and, next to the toilet, a bidet. Good for getting sand out of those hard to reach places, I guess.

  Once I was finished unpacking I went back into the bath- room and looked longingly at the tub. It had been a long time since I'd been in a Jacuzzi. I glanced at my watch again and decided I had time for only a quick shower, and even that was pushing it.

  I rushed through the shower and combed my hair, think- ing I'd just leave it down and au naturel for the evening. I changed into a pair of black cotton slacks, a sleeveless coral-colored blouse, and black sandals just before Cat came looking for me.

  ``Abby? You ready to go? We don't want to be late,'' she said, poking her head into the bathroom.

  ``I'm just putting on some mascara,'' I said as I tucked the tube back into my makeup case and turned to follow her out of the room.

  We exited the suite and walked the hallway to the eleva- tor, where Cat pressed the down button. While we were waiting I asked, ``So how long is this little soiree supposed to last tonight?'' BLIND SIGHTED 265

  ``Three hours,'' Cat answered.

  ``Three hours? What the hell is she going to talk about for three whole hours?''

  ``Well, there's an hour-and-a-half lecture, then an hour and a half of audience readings.''

  ``Audience readings?'' I asked, perking up.

  ``Yeah, according to the information sheet, Deirdre is going to cruise the audience and give out messages to people.''

  ``Hmmm,'' I said thoughtfully. Even though I wasn't in- terested in the topical portion of the evening, it still might be cool to watch another professional at work. I mean, maybe she had a technique I could use for my own clients.

  Just then two more people joined us in the hallway. I turned to my right as they came into my peripheral vision, and caught my breath. Standing right next to Cat was the same buxom blonde and her son whom I'd met at the air- port. Quickly I ducked my head, hoping Celeste wouldn't recognize me and lavish me with another taste of her frosty attitude.

  To my relief the elevator doors finally opened, and I followed Cat into the boxcar with head bent and eyes on the floor. Celeste was too consumed with inspecting her manicure even to acknowledge us, and I was grateful that we would probably make this descent in silence.

  One floor down the elevator stopped, and the doors opened onto a small group of hotel guests. As the first in the group stepped forward, I did a double take when I realized Deirdre Pendleton was about to stand right next to me. Although I'd never seen her in person, it wasn't hard to recognize her as the woman from the picture on the signage downstairs.

  Deirdre was taller than I expected, close to five-ten by my estimate. She had light, wavy brown hair with small traces of gray streaming through the blend. Her face was deeply tanned, and lined more than it should have been for a woman her age. Her eyes were dark green, and her features fine and feminine. She wore a long, flowing gown of canary yellow belted by a gold cord about her waist that billowed when she moved. The cut and style of the gown reminded me of something out of the Middle Ages.

  She was flanked by a tall, balding man in a tweed blazer 266 Victoria Laurie and with beady little eyes, and two women who bore a striking resemblance to the Peace Twins my sister and I had encountered earlier in the day while waiting for the elevator. They also wore tie-dyed dresses, with bangles and sandals, and kept their eyes adoringly on Deirdre.

  As I stepped to the side to make room for Deirdre and her entourage, I watched as she took two steps forward, then snapped her head in the direction of Celeste and abruptly stopped.

  ``Deirdre,'' Fish Lips said, incli
ning her head with a mali- cious grin.

  ``Celeste,'' Deirdre said in a way that made you think the name left a nasty aftertaste. ``My spirit guide told me you'd be here.''

  Liar, liar, pants on fire . . .

  I cocked my head slightly as the playground chant sang through my head. One of the odd talents I have is some- thing like an inboard lie detector. Whenever I'm within hearing distance of a lie, the chant pops into my head. I consider the skill a terrific perk when it comes to negotiat- ing the price of a new car, or taking a check from a client. It was interesting to hear that even though she covered it well, Deirdre was shocked to find Fish Lips in the same hotel.

  ``Really?'' Celeste replied, ``Did he now?''

  ``Yes, and Great Wind Talker also said that I was not to acknowledge your existence,'' Deirdre said as she backed right out of the elevator, folded her arms, and waited for the doors to close.

  As the doors shut, Celeste turned to her son and let go a sharp, hard laugh, as if someone had just told her a very funny joke. Gerald flinched at the sound but forced a smile to his lips as he nodded his head in agreement. The entire exchange between Deirdre and Celeste was so odd that Cat and I looked at each other as if to say, ``Huh?'' but in the next instant the elevator began moving again and we were headed back down.

  When we reached the ground floor, Celeste pushed her way off first, and Cat and I held back as she and her son departed at a clipped pace. ``What was that about?'' Cat asked when they were out of hearing range. BLIND SIGHTED 267

  ``I have no idea, but that woman,'' I said pointing at Celeste's back, ``shouldn't be here.''

  ``Why? What do you mean?''

  ``I'm not sure, just that every time I'm near her these alarm bells go off, like she needs to get on a plane and head home--pronto.''

  ``Didn't you already try telling her that?''

  ``Yeah, but that doesn't mean that I can just turn off the message.''

  ``Well, maybe we can talk to Deirdre after her seminar. I mean, I'm sure she's had plenty of experiences like this before. Maybe there's a way she can tell you to turn it off if the person won't listen?''

  I bristled slightly at my sister's suggestion. ``Cat, just be- cause she's famous doesn't mean she's better at the whole intuitive thing than I am.''

  ``I'm not saying she is, Abby. Jeesh! Don't get so defensive.''

  Just then Cat and I reached the entrance to the hall where Deirdre would be speaking. A small line had already formed, and just in front of us I spotted the same little old lady I'd met on the plane who'd filled me in on the week- end's festivities. Her back was to us, as Cat and I stepped into line, I tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

  ``Oh! Hello, there, Abby, isn't it?'' she asked turning around.

  ``Yes, good memory, Millicent,'' I answered her warmly. Although Millicent had talked mostly about Deirdre and her excitement about the weekend, I still genuinely liked the woman, finding her to be sweet and endearing. ``Cat, this is Millicent Satchel; we met on the plane this afternoon.''

  ``How do you do, Millicent,'' Cat said extending her hand. ``I'm Abby's sister, Catherine Cooper-Masters, or Cat for short.''

  ``Hello, Cat,'' Millicent said, switching the now dog-eared copy of Deirdre's book from one hand to the other so that she could shake hands. ``Are you a fan of Deirdre's too?''

  ``Let's just say I have a very open mind about all of this,'' Cat answered. ``And that is a lovely suit you're wearing,'' she added, referring to Millicent's light blue attire with a 268 Victoria Laurie pink blouse and a matching corsage pinned to one lapel. The ensemble matched her perfectly coiffed, short, curly hair that was also a subtle shade of blue.

  ``Why, thank you,'' Millicent said, beaming at my sister from behind huge bifocals. ``I wanted to look my best for Deirdre--I'm even wearing blusher tonight,'' she confessed in a whisper.

  I smiled at the pair of them, because in forty years I imagined that Cat would probably look very similar to Mil- licent. The two were even close in height, with my sister having a slight edge in her three-inch heels.

  ``Do you think Deirdre will have time to sign my book after the seminar?'' Millicent asked us.

  ``Oh, I'm sure she'd make time for you, Millicent,'' Cat answered with a smile. If I knew my sister, I was sure she'd make it a point to get Deirdre's attention for an auto- graph signing.

  Just then the line shifted, and a man with a clipboard approached the three of us. ``Are you all together?'' he asked.

  ``Oh, no,'' Millicent said. ``I came alone; here's my regis- tration,'' she added, pushing a neatly folded piece of paper at the usher. The man took Millicent's ticket and checked it against his clipboard, then motioned for her to follow him into the large dining hall.

  A minute later he was back for us, and Cat handed him our reservations. We then followed him into the large hall.

  When we were inside the grand room I was a little star- tled at the quantity of tables, set out for the event. There must have been close to thirty tables with six place settings apiece. I didn't know what the plate price was, but by the sight of the linen tablecloths and fancy swan-folded nap- kins, I assumed it must be a pretty penny.

  The usher led Cat and me to the front of the hall, arriv- ing at table number one, which was front and center to a raised platform where Deirdre would be speaking. I won- dered how Cat had managed to get us the best seats in the

  � � house, but then smiled at my own naivete. Cat used money like a gunslinger used a six-shooter, and she was quick on the draw when she wanted her way.

  We took our seats and were soon joined by two more BLIND SIGHTED 269 guests. A couple took their places across from us, and Cat and I smiled gamely at them. They looked to be in their late forties and were at that point in their marriage where they had begun to look alike. Both of them had rounded features, with apple-red cheeks and plump figures. Their clothing and jewelry indicated they had some cash, and I began seeing how the seating arrangement had been worked out for the evening.

  To confirm my suspicions I turned to my sister and whis- pered in her ear, ``How much did it cost to get a seat up front?''

  My sister looked crossly at me and said, ``Oh, Abby, for God's sake. I'm not letting you pay me back, so just relax--''

  ``No,'' I insisted, ``I'm just curious. I want to know what this table cost as opposed to one in the back.''

  ``Oh, well, in that case it was five hundred dollars a per- son, as opposed to two-fifty for something in the middle, and I think about a hundred in the back.''

  My jaw dropped and hung there. Finally I sputtered, ``You are kidding me!''

  ``No, it's the truth,'' she said. ``Now do you see why I want you to take notes? This is a very lucrative business if it's done right.''

  I scowled distastefully. This entire setup was really start- ing to bug me, and I felt the beginnings of something sinis- ter seeping into my bones.

  A short time later we were joined by the man in the tweed jacket I'd seen flanking Deirdre, and one of the Peace Twins from our first elevator ride. When the two joined us they nodded briefly at all of us, then occupied their time looking over the rest of the crowd joining the event.

  Before long our waiter appeared and took our orders. I opted for the chicken, while Cat gamely went with the scal- lops. Our drinks and salads arrived, and Cat and I talked about mutual acquaintances and other members of our fam- ily. Even though we talk every day, Cat and I never seem to run out of things to say to each other.

  Finally, just after our food arrived, Deirdre walked into the long hall and through the crowded room to thunderous 270 Victoria Laurie applause. I clapped politely and watched her take the stage, forming her hands into a steeple and bowing demurely at her adoring fans.

  ``Thank you,'' she said humbly as the applause began to wane. ``Thank you all so much, my brothers and sisters, for joining me on this spiritual journey here in beautiful Clearwater, Florida.''

  As I cut into my chicken--which was, in fact, over- cooked--I noticed out of my perip
heral vision about a dozen women flanking the sides of the room, all wearing tie-dyed dresses and jingling with bangles. The way they all gazed adoringly at Deirdre made me a bit squeamish, and I looked around at the audience to see if anyone else took notice. Everyone seemed transfixed by Deirdre, who was launching into her speech.

  ``So what I will talk to you about tonight is my own spiritual journey and all the wonderful gifts that have re- sulted from my experience as an internationally renowned psychic.

  ``My journey began some twenty years ago, when I was in college pursing a Ph.D. in psychotherapy. One day while I was walking to class, a man wearing a black mask and holding a gun stepped in front of me and demanded my purse.