She sat back and considered the plan. “Okay, I guess it’s a good idea. Except for the part where you drive my car.” Robin owned a vintage Porsche Speedster. She never allowed anyone but herself to drive it.
I rubbed my hands together. “See, that’s the best part of the plan.”
“No way.”
“No offense, but you’re a little too jumpy to drive. And there’s the small detail of your eye being swollen shut. That’s going to make it hard to focus on the road.”
She harrumphed and flounced for a minute, then gave me a grudging nod. “Fine.”
“Great.” I moved back into the kitchen to start on the cucumber. “It’s settled.”
The doorbell rang and Robin flinched. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know.” I headed for the front. “Probably Vinnie or Suzie.”
She followed me into the workshop. “Look through the peephole first.”
“I will.”
She moved to my desk and grabbed the phone. “I’m ready to dial nine-one-one.”
“Stop worrying. We would’ve heard the elevator if it was someone from outside the building.” I stared through the peephole but didn’t see anyone. That was weird. Maybe they took off.
“Who’s there?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” I swung the door open.
Robin let out a tiny shriek and brandished the phone receiver above her head.
Six-year-old Tyler blinked in surprise. “Miss Brooklyn, I brought you my book.”
“Hi, Tyler. Please come in.” With a smile, I waved him inside. “Do you remember my friend Robin?”
“Hello,” he said, and nodded solemnly. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Robin’s hand went to her cheek as she remembered her swollen face. “Um, yes, I did.”
He continued to stare at her. “Are you playing a telephone game?”
“A telephone-Oh.” She waved the receiver, then placed it in its cradle. “Yes. But we’re finished playing.”
“Tyler, does your mother know you’re here?” I asked.
He nodded again. “She’ll be here in a minute, but I didn’t want to wait.” He thrust the book at me. “See? Because the pages are falling out now.”
There was another knock at the door. Robin’s shoulders jerked.
“Easy,” I whispered.
“You know what?” Robin said, shaking her head. “I’ll be in the other room.”
“Do you want me to fix another ice pack for you?”
“I can do it.”
I let her go, then opened the door for Tyler’s mom. After a brief tour of my workshop, Lisa was satisfied that I knew what I was doing when it came to books.
“Can you fix it right now?” Tyler asked.
“It’s going to take me a few days, because I want to do the best job possible for you. Can you wait until Saturday to get it back?”
He looked up at his mother with a serious expression on his face. “What day is today?”
“Today is Wednesday,” she told him.
He stared at his hand and counted the days off on his fingers. “Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.” He gazed at me. “That’s four days.”
“That’s right.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“How much do I have to pay you?” Tyler asked.
I smiled at Lisa, then looked at Tyler. I picked up the book and weighed it in my hands, thought for a moment. Then I knelt down to talk on his level. “I’ll have to take the book apart here, glue new endpapers here, then sew these pages together. See?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So I’m going to have to charge you… five dollars.”
He nodded once, firmly. “You have a deal.”
We shook hands, and Lisa smiled proudly. Leaning close, she confided, “I told him it might cost one hundred dollars, so now he thinks he’s a smart negotiator.”
With a quick grin for Tyler, I said, “I was thinking of charging you fifty dollars.”
He shook his head. “It’s too late to change your price. We shook hands and everything.”
Giving Lisa and Tyler the quick tour of my workshop had made me anxious to get back to work on the Kama Sutra. But that work would have to wait until Robin was out of the city and safely delivered into my mother’s care.
So first thing the next morning, I called Inspector Lee to make sure it was acceptable for Robin to go to Sonoma. She gave her approval, of course, since it was pretty obvious from Galina’s attack that Robin had become a target. I gave Lee my mother’s phone number, just in case.
After I packed Robin’s three sweat suits, various accessories, and meager supply of toiletries, the three of us hit the highway.
Driving Robin’s vintage Porsche Speedster was a total blast for me, though not so much for Robin. I could actually hear her teeth grinding as I revved the engine on the straightaway out on Highway 37. I might’ve ground the gears once or twice, but it wasn’t my fault. The car was old. Yes, it was a classic, but let’s face it: The old thing wasn’t as fluid as it once might’ve been. But Robin acted as if I’d taken an ax to the engine just by shifting gears. I knew she was a little sensitive, so I didn’t take her swearing and cringing personally.
At one point along the highway, Derek flew by in his Bentley Continental GT. He passed on Robin’s side and she gazed over at him. When I glanced over, I saw Derek laughing uproariously. Was Robin making a face? Was I being mocked? I ignored them both. This was the sort of thing a true friend like myself had to endure once in a while.
An hour later we parked in my parents’ driveway, and I couldn’t stop smiling as Mom and Dad came out to greet us.
Mom wore a long-sleeved, full-length rainbow tie-dyed dress that floated and swung around her boots as she jogged down the stairs of the front porch. She’d dyed and sewn the dress herself from thick cotton knit that accentuated her tall, still-youthful figure.
Dad was dressed in the familiar faded Levi’s he’d always worn whenever he worked with the grapes in the fields. Today he wore another Mom original, a sage-colored tie-dyed henley shirt that looked almost new.
They were still in love, still adorable, and if you squinted just a little, you could picture them as two young Grateful Dead fans who first met at a Dead concert in Ventura County almost forty years ago.
After many hugs and outraged cries over Robin’s injuries, Mom touched Robin’s forehead, her third eye, where higher consciousness was centered, and chanted quietly, “Om shanti… shanti… shanti.”
My mother used this chant whenever anyone around her was distressed. Shanti is the Sanskrit word for “peace.” Repeating the word three times brought peace and protection from the three disturbances. The first of these disturbances was said to come from God, things like floods and earthquakes and hurricanes. The next came from the world around us, such as noisy neighbors, barking dogs, telephones ringing incessantly. The third came from within and was the one disturbance we could actually control. This included the negative emotions we tended to bring upon ourselves, such as jealousy, fear, anger, and sorrow.
All the pent-up tension seemed to melt from Robin’s shoulders and she smiled. “Thanks, Becky. I’m so glad I’m here.”
“Me, too, sweetie,” Mom said. She wrapped her arm about Robin, Dad grabbed her small suitcase, and Derek and I followed them into the sprawling ranch house in which I’d grown up.
“I’ve made sandwiches and potato salad for lunch,” Mom said, then turned to Derek. “You’ll stay for the day, won’t you?”
Clearly, Derek was the authority as far as Mom was concerned. She was probably right to consult him instead of me. I would’ve been happy spending a night or two, but Derek had an actual office to run back in the city.
Dad poured everyone a glass of the new sparkling wine he’d been experimenting with at the winery. Robin took one sip, then set her glass down. I could tell she was still in pain and was glad to see Mom come over
and rub Robin’s shoulders. She relaxed instantly.
We ate lunch under a huge oak tree on my parents’ terraced patio overlooking the vineyards Dharma was famous for. Off to the left of the house and rambling up the hill was the apple orchard Mom had started the first year we moved into the house. In honor of Robin’s arrival, Mom had made her fabulous Crazy Delicious Apple Crisp for dessert.
Many Thanksgiving moons ago, when, as usual, I’d insisted on pumpkin pie after the huge meal, Mom also brought out her fledgling attempt at apple crisp. Not impressed with the presentation at first-it wasn’t pumpkin pie, after all, and I was so devoted to pumpkin pie that my family and friends had taken to calling me Punkin-I forced myself to take one small taste. I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, after all. Then I took another bite. Then another. In the end, I declared it my new most favorite dessert ever. Especially the way Mom made it, with spicy, lightly sweetened apples and the crunchiest, most crumbly, crispy layers of yumminess on top. Her secret ingredient was a luscious caramel sauce she added at the end. And ice cream on the side of the dish didn’t hurt, either.
Whenever I visited my parents now, I always went home with a bag of apples. Everyone in town did. Mom was known as the Apple Lady at the local grammar school. I guess that was better than being known as the Murder Scene Queen. Just saying.
After lunch, Mom helped Robin move to the chaise longue and tucked a blanket around her. With great care, she daubed some cream on Robin’s swollen face and set a glass of bright green parsley water on the nearby table for her to drink.
I hoped Robin knew better than to touch that stuff. I still had nightmares about parsley juice, Mom’s cure-all for most ailments.
Then Mom turned to another of her cure-alls. She pulled a disposable lighter from her pocket, lit a small bundle of sage incense, and blew on it until it was smoky, filling the air with its pungent aroma.
“I’ll now recite an original healing love chant,” she announced. She bowed to Robin, then bowed to the four directions and hummed loudly. Waving her arms and shaking the bundle of smoking sage above Robin’s head, she began her chant.
Father Sun, Sister Moon,
Sweep out darkness, sweep out doom.
Mother Earth and all the clouds,
Dance the dance and sing out loud.
Free our Robin from this pain,
Take the hurt but leave the flame.
The flame of passion burns anew
And love is found when hearts are true.
Your eyes will meet, your hands will touch,
You’ll get the one you want so much.
You’ll do the funky Twist and Shout
That’s what I’m-a talkin’ ’bout!
Everybody sing! Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny!
Hey, hey, hey!
I started to applaud but Mom stopped me. “Not yet, there’s more.” Then she swayed and hummed and continued in an even deeper yet louder tone.
Sacred stones, circle of magic,
Here is the Dance, here is desire.
Circle of magic, do your thing,
Dance of desire, light my fire!
Everybody sing! Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny!
Hey, hey, hey!
There was a moment of silence, followed by a burst of applause.
“Wow, Mom, that was really something,” I said.
“Beautiful, honey,” Dad said, his eyes moist with emotion. “I think that was your best one yet.”
“I feel the fire,” Robin said, and I didn’t dare meet her gaze.
Mom laughed breathlessly. “That was crazy!” Her cheeks were flushed pink as she fell back into her chair. “Now, Robin, that spell was created especially for you. It’s meant to cleanse your aura, lift your spirit, and allow your heart to find joy again.”
“Sounds like you threw in a little dose of the wild thing, too,” Dad said, dancing in his chair as he wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, jeez,” I muttered.
“I do what I can,” Mom said modestly. She bounced up and kissed Robin’s cheek. “We’ll take good care of you here, sweetie.”
“Thank you, Becky,” Robin whispered.
Derek squeezed my hand as he said to Mom, “It was lovely, Rebecca.”
“Why, thank you, Derek,” she said, beaming. “I’ve been trying out a few new chants. I don’t know if you could tell, but I improvised some of the words.”
I raised my hand. “I could tell.”
“I’m feeling better already,” Robin said, nodding in encouragement. She coughed as Mom blew more sage smoke over her head.
Then Mom stopped abruptly and listened to something only she could hear. “I believe it’s working.”
At that moment, the sliding glass door opened and my brother Austin walked out to the patio. He’d come straight from the vineyards and was still wearing his dusty cowboy hat, faded jeans, scruffy boots, and a white T-shirt covered in dirt.
Sometimes I forgot how beautiful he was. His skin was tanned from the sun and his dark blond hair was streaked with gold.
Austin had traveled all over the world but had finally returned to Dharma a few years ago to live and work the land with his family and friends in the commune. He wasn’t some kind of weirdo hippie freak, I swear. On the contrary, he loved football and beer and cars and girls. He liked to shoot and hunt and fish. He also loved good books and fine wine. And he loved this place, the hills, the trees, the grapes, the earth. He was basically an all-American guy, if you didn’t count the fact that he was raised in a commune with two Deadheads for parents. You know, the kind of parents who would name their firstborn son after the Texas town in which little Austin was conceived after a wild night watching the Grateful Dead perform with Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan. Apparently it had been quite a show.
I gave a little cry of joy, jumped up from the table, and ran to hug him. His blue eyes danced with pleasure when he saw me.
“Hey, farmer,” I said. “Gosh, you’re filthy, but it’s still great to see you.”
He ruffled my hair. “Hey, book girl, you look fantastic.”
I brushed some residual dirt off my sweater as Derek stood. Austin greeted him jovially as they shook hands. They’d always liked each other, which was a relief. I’d tried dating guys my brothers hated, and those relationships were always doomed from the start.
“Hello, Austin,” Robin said after the greetings died down.
At the sound of her voice, he smiled at the rest of us. “There she is.” Then he turned and got his first look at Robin. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”
I smacked his shoulder. “Knucklehead.”
Robin tilted her head to meet my gaze. “What every girl longs to hear.”
He whipped around and faced Mom. “Why didn’t you tell me she was hurt?”
Mom frowned and shook her head. “Why would I tell you anything, sweetie? It’s not as if you care about Robin one way or another, is it?”
“Care about-” He shook his head in disgust, then walked straight over to Robin’s chaise and crouched down beside her. “Of course I care about you.”
“Really? Who knew?”
He touched her chin gently with his fingers. “I hope I’m not hurting you.”
She sniffed. “You’re not.”
Stroking her hair, he whispered, “It’s really good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Austin.”
I edged a few feet closer so I could hear everything they were saying.
Austin said, “I understand you’ll be staying here for a few days.”
“That’s the plan.”
Austin glanced over his shoulder at Mom and Dad. He was frowning. If I didn’t know him better, I would’ve said he looked confused. But Austin was never confused. He’d always professed to know exactly what he was doing.
Returning his gaze to Robin, he murmured, “I’ve got to do this, babe.”
“Do what?” Robin asked in a tentative voice.
“Trust me?”
&
nbsp; She stared deep into his eyes as if mesmerized. “I guess so.”
In one sweeping motion, he lifted Robin out of the chair and into his arms. “You’re coming home with me.”
“Put me down,” Robin insisted.
Dad jumped to his feet. “Austin, no.”
“Austin Wainwright,” Mom declared, “you put that girl down right this minute. She’s in pain and needs her rest.”
He turned patiently and said, “She’ll get plenty of rest, Mom. But…” He shook his head again, looked around as though he were seeing us all for the first time. Then he gazed at Robin. “I need her with me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Mom said, clutching her hands nervously.
Robin shoved her hand against his chest. “I won’t sleep with you.”
“Yes, you will.”
“In your dreams.”
He whispered something to Robin that made her laugh-despite her best intentions, it seemed. Then Austin stalked toward the wide walkway at the side of the house and disappeared with my best friend in his arms.
Chapter 9
“I guess I don’t know my own strength,” Mom muttered, as she crushed the still-smoking sage into a small bowl.
“You’ve got strong magic in you, Becks,” Dad said, and gave her a quick hug. “Especially when it comes to the wild thing.”
“I’m not listening to this.” I pressed my hands to my ears and stared at them in complete bewilderment. Did Mom and Dad really think it was her chanting that brought Austin here? Was that what caused him to go temporarily insane? To fall into lust? To kidnap my BFF?
I glanced at Derek, who was watching me thoughtfully. “What do you think?”
“Not to discount your mother’s skills,” he said, sitting back in his chair, “but I think Austin and Robin appear to be two consenting adults who’ve known each other a long time.”
He was right, of course, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I supposed stranger things had happened up here in Dharma land. I just couldn’t think of anything right off the bat. Robin and Austin had always been hot for each other, but the timing had never been right for one or the other. Now…
Was that what had happened? Was the timing suddenly right? Was it all about Austin and Robin? Or was Mom’s power increasing? Was she starting to chant love spells that actually worked? And if it was only an enchanted love spell that got them together, wouldn’t it wear off eventually? Wouldn’t one of the interested parties complain that they’d been coerced into something that wasn’t of their own free will?
Murder Under Cover Page 11
