Electric Blue Page 26

  I drove into its front lot and up to a brick building with floor to ceiling windows along one wall. Inside, people were sweating on a variety of killer-looking machines. I figured this was one of those membership types of places and I was going to have to do a song and dance to see Zach. I sighed to myself. Sometimes the series of hoops it takes to get through a day makes me bone weary.

  Wishing I could dig up some of the earlier aggression I’d felt when I’d delivered the seventy-two-hour notice, I walked up to the reception desk, searching for some kind of story to get me what I wanted. There were two young, buff males behind the counter wearing Crest Ultra smiles. I took it as a good sign; at least I wasn’t facing another battle-ax receptionist.

  “Hi, I’m Veronica. Ronnie,” I said with a smile. “I’m looking for Zach Montrose.” To my right was a glass wall. I could see a full gym to the left and the body-torquing machines to the right. The gym was half a floor down and a three-foot-high wall topped by a rail looked into it from the torture chamber.

  “Zach’s busy with someone right now.” He glanced through the glass. I followed his gaze and saw a gray-haired man with an incredibly hard body helping some gal as she sat on one of the machines, lifting leg weights. I could see her strain from here.

  I put Zach somewhere in his mid-forties. He could be older, but he was in great shape. At any rate, he was within the right age range to be the Zach Montrose who’d worked at Haven of Rest.

  “Do you have a membership with us?” one of the buff boys asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”

  “I’m just trying it out. Zach’s been telling me what a great facility you have here.”

  “He has?” They exchanged looks. “Weird. I don’t mean to be a jerk, but Zach hates everything and everybody. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say anything nice about anything.” They both kind of laughed.

  “I guess there’s always a first time.”

  “I guess,” he said dubiously.

  Note to self: Be more careful on this lying thing.

  I settled myself in a chair and waited for Zach’s session to end. There appeared to be some flirty stuff going on between Zach and his client. I saw the two guys exchange another look, and I suspected Zach might be an older version of Complete Me’s Trevin. I swear to God, how do these women fall for these guys? What is it about them that I simply miss?

  Twenty minutes later Zach’s sweating client headed for the showers. “You can catch him now. Go on in,” the talkative one of the two directed. “And if for some reason you find Zach’s not the trainer for you, don’t hold it against us. The Body Shop’s got a lot of trainers. Younger…nicer…”

  “Duly noted.”

  I headed inside. Zach had grabbed a mammoth-size water bottle and was pouring the liquid down his throat. He saw me coming and put the bottle down, wiping his mouth with the back of a very hairy forearm. I wondered about little hairs catching in his teeth, but his smile of greeting seemed fur-free. “Hullo,” he said. “Looking for me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “You look in pretty good shape,” he assessed. “Could use some upper arm development. What happened? Someone attack you?”

  “No…”

  He examined my face. “You look a little beat up.”

  Well, that was a bitch. Before lunch with Mom I’d applied makeup, done my darnedest to make myself look attractive, but my bruises apparently showed through. I couldn’t wait for them to disappear. “You got a minute?” I asked. “I’m really interested in talking more than joining the club.”

  “Yeah? You want to interview me?” He was clearly puzzled.

  We walked over to a stairway that led to an upper loft and a café. I snagged a menu, saw way too much healthy stuff, and was glad I’d had lunch with Mom. Zach ordered some kind of protein shake from a gal at the front counter. It came out looking like lavender goop.

  “Hit me,” he said, throwing away the straw and plastic top as we settled onto a bar-height table, the kind that make my feet dangle. He drank the shake like the water, lustily, with more energy than finesse. Again he wiped his mouth with his arm but this time a smear of protein goo caught in the hairs.

  “Are you the same Zach Montrose who worked at Haven of Rest, now River Shores?”

  He froze, his dark eyes boring holes into mine. “About a lifetime ago.”

  “Do you remember Lily Purcell?”

  “Who are you? What do you want? I’m not talking to you.” He got up abruptly and started striding downstairs.

  “Wait. Wait a minute.” I doggedly raced after him.

  “Get lost,” he told me, heading for the front doors. The guys behind the desk looked at me, eyebrows raised, as I charged after Zach into the late afternoon chill. “I’m not talking to you or anyone else about that. I’m done, okay? It’s way over. It wasn’t my fault then, it’s not my fault now.”

  “Her death?”

  “That, too. Jesus. You’re not talking about the baby?”

  “Well…I don’t know.”

  To my shock he suddenly wrapped his hand around my neck and shoved me against the outside brick wall. To my right was the row of windows but no one could see us at this angle.

  “I’m not the kid’s father. Sure, we screwed around, but she screwed around with everybody. She was like stink, y’know? You couldn’t get her off you. I was seventeen. What did I know? I just went for it. So sue me! I’m sick of having it ruin my life!”

  His fingers tightened. I wondered briefly if he used steroids and was ’roiding out on me. I hadn’t realized Lily was going to be such a hot button. We stayed that way for a moment or two. I counted my heartbeats and remained silent.

  “And it wasn’t my fault she died,” he added a bit more calmly. “You wanna know about that? You talk to her sister. Got another flower name. I don’t remember. But she’s the one got her so upset that we had to hold her down. I said this at the time but that family of hers wasn’t interested in the truth. You working for them?”

  “Um…no.”

  “No? Why are you asking these questions?”

  I cleared my throat. “Lily’s son wants to know.”

  “Well, shit.” That nonplussed him. He removed his hand from my neck and seemed to pull himself together. “The kid…? Damn.” He shook his head. “Look, she was something weird, okay? Doc Bergin called it hypersexuality. She came onto him, too.”

  “What?” I tried to give Zach a hard look, though I didn’t really want to piss him off any further. “I’ve met Bergin. He’s only thirty-something.”

  “Old Doc Bergin. Young Doc’s his kid. His wife damn near divorced him and took the kid with her when he was fooling around with Lily, especially Lily being pregnant and all. It was…sick. When she started showing, I couldn’t touch her no more. Turned me off, the idea of something growing inside her. But it wasn’t mine, I swear.”

  “Would you take a DNA test to see?”

  “I guess,” he said without enthusiasm. “But I quit being with her as soon as it was obvious. That’s when she turned to Old Doc. He was supposed to be treating her for all kinds of crazy stuff, but she got to him, too. Damn near got him fired, but they couldn’t prove it. Lily wouldn’t tell. He claimed she’d been abused as a little girl. Guess it comes out like that sometimes—hypersexuality. Whatever. She sure had it.” He reminisced briefly, shaking his head. “She sure was a looker, though.”

  My knees were quaking a bit. He’d thoroughly scared me and it was hard to shake off.

  He seemed to realize it and looked around as if to escape. “I got problems of my own. Leave me alone.”

  He turned and jogged to a black vintage Mustang.

  It took me a couple of minutes more to get my legs in gear and give up the support of the wall. The whole drive back to Portland I could feel my insides clench with anxiety.

  I stopped into the Nook before I went home. It was early evening and the grocery shoppers were swarming the parking lot. My mind was full of
questions and my equilibrium was still off. Zach’s attack had really gotten to me. Where was my bad ass attitude when I really needed it? I’d felt overpowered and small, like a vulnerable girl, and it was that niggling worry that kept me distracted as I told the high school girls behind the counter all I wanted was a cup of black coffee. I still wasn’t sure I was meant for this business.

  “You!” a woman’s voice declared.

  I didn’t immediately look up because I sure didn’t think she meant me. But then she crowded my space. Glancing around, my heart seized a bit. Miriam Westerly’s pink collagen lips were right next to me. As I turned toward her, I had to be careful I didn’t brush into them. Her red hair looked like it was on fire and so did her eyes.

  She pointed an accusing finger at my nose. “You were at the spa!”

  I smiled, pretending I didn’t know what she was talking about though my pulse was beating rapidly. “Ummm…?”

  “My husband hired a private investigator!” She spat the term as if were dirty. “It was you.”

  Okay, this was not one of those days where I could say I loved my job. Pretty much it sucked. I gave up pretending, mainly because I just didn’t have the energy, and said to her, “You may not believe this, but I hope you get every cent of your money back from Trev. The guy scams women all the time. And you know what? You oughtta think about losing Spence, too. The guy doesn’t deserve you. You have potential. Use it. Stop defining yourself by narcissistic men.” The teenager behind the counter handed me an empty cup, so caught up in our conversation she didn’t even ask me my name. “Jane Kelly,” I told her, so she could mark on my prepaid coffee card that I was up-to-date. I walked over to the coffeepot and poured myself a steaming cup. My hand shook a little and I looked at it in a kind of wonder. Geez, Louise. I am such a friggin’ wimp.

  “Jane Kelly,” Miriam repeated.

  That’s my name, don’t wear it out. I headed out of the store, hoping Miriam would just evaporate. But she hung beside me, clearly needing to vent her feelings.

  “I don’t know how you can sleep at night,” she volleyed at me.

  Oh, puhleeze…I swung open my car door and said, “Miriam?”

  She lifted her chin and glared at me.

  “Gain some self-respect.”

  “Just who do you think you are?”

  “Your neighborhood Ann Landers. And FYI. Lose the lips. They frighten me.” I slammed the door behind me. My last vision was of her sucking her lips between her teeth, a look of consternation on her face.

  Jazz invited me over to his house for dinner, but I declined, using my mother as an excuse. It wasn’t fair of me but I had a lot to digest after my “meeting” with Zach and my run-in with Miriam. That night I lay sleepless on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I was alone as Binkster had chosen the bed and Mom over the couch and me. This was more than fine because with her neck cone, the couch can get really, really crowded.

  When I got up the next morning I still felt tired. I ran through the shower early, trying to be quiet in order to not wake my mother, then scrutinized my face and added more makeup. I scribbled Mom a note that said I was working, then got in the Volvo and headed to Dwayne’s.

  I knocked on his door. Well, banged, actually, and when he didn’t immediately answer I let myself in with my key.

  Dwayne appeared from the bedroom in a pair of boxers and nothing else. I opened my mouth to say something but my mind simply shut off. I’ve always suspected the man goes commando style, but at least he apparently wears something to sleep in.

  Unless he’d hastily pulled them on when he heard an intruder.

  Seeing it was me, he raked a hand through his blond-brown hair and yawned, a surprisingly sexy move as it stretched out the muscles of his chest. “What the hell are you doing up so early?”

  “Escaping my mother.”

  “Why aren’t you at the Nook?”

  I gave him a brief recap on Miriam which served to amuse him.

  “Well, she probably won’t be there in the morning,” he assured me.

  “Yeah, but Spence might. I’m taking a day off. Besides, I want to talk to you.”

  “Okay. Anything in particular?”

  “The Purcells.”

  He groaned as if in pain. “Cammie hasn’t called me in five days. Don’t make me go there again.”

  “You might be done with Cammie, but I need your help.”

  “Oh, now you need my help.” He headed into the kitchen, pulling a couple of mugs down and searching through a cupboard until he dragged out a bag of coffee. Nook coffee. I wondered how long it had been in his cupboard.

  I told him about my meeting, such as it was, with Zach, then I went on to relate how Lily had been labeled hypersexual, how Old Doc Bergin had said it was probably brought on by sexual abuse, and how William DeForest said Percy thought she was a “hotpants.” I laid it down in a straight narration, and when I was finished I waited for him to say something.

  He was watching the coffee drip through the filter as if it were the greatest show on earth. Into the silence, he said, “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m asking you.”

  Dwayne poured us each a cup of coffee. I sniffed mine suspiciously, but it smelled all right. I’m not generally fussy about my coffee, but I don’t trust Dwayne’s pull-date skills. He asked, “You think she was abused?”

  “Maybe,” I said cautiously.

  “By someone in the family?”

  “That would be the likely assumption,” I said.

  “Okay, let’s put that aside for a moment.” He could tell he was icking me out. “You asked if I thought someone killed Orchid. You didn’t think there was any reason. Do you think there’s a reason now?” He gazed at me. Dwayne, mostly undressed and unshowered, looked rakish and very male. I stared at him, making sure I didn’t telegraph the fact that I was picking up sexual signals he wasn’t intending to send.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Orchid was losing her grip on sanity. She was sad, crying, and she brought up things to you. You said there was a big secret. That it was eating away at them all. That you intended to find out what it was. You might not have been the only one picking those signals up.”

  I thought that over. “You think someone killed her to keep her from talking about Lily?”

  “I’m just theorizing. Maybe Orchid knew about the abuse but has kept silent all these years. But with her mind starting to go, it was coming out in her behavior. Maybe someone got scared and gave her a shove into the mantel.”

  “That seems like a stretch,” I said, though it was the train of thought that my mind had been following as well.

  Dwayne inclined his head in agreement. “Lily’s been gone a long time. Who can prove anything now? Where’s the crime that someone would go to jail for?”

  “These aren’t people who necessarily make rational decisions.”

  “Good point.” After a moment, he asked, “What was the deal with that doctor again? The one whose dad was supposedly doing Lily?”

  “Cal Bergin.”

  “He has to know the Lily Purcell story if daddy was involved. But you said he acted like he’d never heard of her.”

  I shrugged. “He was just a kid at the time.”

  “Yeah, but he works there now…wasn’t there talk of a lawsuit…something? Come on. It’s got to be part of the River Shore’s lore. He’s not that out of it.”

  “He didn’t mention it. Even when I brought up the fact that the Purcells recommended the place.”

  “He knows the Purcell name. I guarantee it. He didn’t say something because he was waiting for you to give him some kind of signal about what you were really doing and what you wanted.”

  “I was acting like I was going to bring my sister there.”

  “You think he believed you?” Dwayne asked. “Come on. The Purcells would never recommend the place where Lily died.”

  “You’re saying he kn
ew I was a fake from the start.”

  “He’s not an idiot. He told you he couldn’t give out any information. Said it wasn’t on the computer, right?”

  “He told me the records were stored in the basement.”

  “He never figured you’d go that far. He thought he’d fobbed you off. He was just trying to get rid of you.” Dwayne rinsed out his coffee cup. “You need to talk to him again. Tell him what the ex-employee said.”

  “Zach Montrose.”

  Dwayne nodded. “Find out what the young doc knows.”

  “I don’t really want to,” I admitted. I explained to Dwayne about using my alias and Jim Paine calling me Jane. “I bet Bergin rethought telling me about the records room. Probably went down there once everything died down with Gina and realized the file’s gone. He’ll know I stole it.”

  “Can’t prove anything. Want me to go with you?”

  I gazed at him in surprise. “Thought you were involved in that robbery case.”

  “We’re kind of at an impasse. I’ve got this client who’s loaded. His daughter got married about a month ago. Put up notices all over the place. Posted on the web. Date of the wedding. Their names. Pictures in the paper…the whole circus. So, all of the wedding gifts are sent to the house and guess what place gets hit the day of the wedding.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “It’s like they laid out a treasure map with all the directions. The police haven’t turned up a suspect, so my client called me. There have been some other robberies with the same MO, but this one was big. We don’t have a lot to go on right now. I’m giving it some thought.”

  I loved the idea of having Dwayne work with me, but I always expect everyone to have a hidden agenda. “What’s in this for you?” I asked.

  “I seeketh the truth.”

  “Oh, sure.” We smiled at each other, then a thought struck me. “There’s something else. Something Zach said.”

  “What?”

  “Lily was visited by her sister right before she had to be restrained that final time. She was really upset and out of control after Dahlia’s visit.”