A Stirring from Salem (14 page)

After tossing and turning for hours, Scarlett had just drifted into a dream when Charley gently shook her.

“Shit!” Scarlett screamed as she pulled off her eye mask and tried to get her bearings. “What the hell time is it?” she gasped, breathing heavily. It was still very, very dark outside.

“Three-fifteen,” Charley said. “We gave you as much time as we could since you’re the senior girl.”

Since I’m the old hag, Scarlett thought. At least there are some benefits.

“I’ll be out in ten. Do you mind?” she sniped at Charley.

“I’m just doing my job, Scarlett,” Charley answered gently. “Just get out as soon as you can, okay?”

Scarlett was surprised at how nice Charley was being. Charley was, too. But even though Charley had probably had even less sleep than Scarlett, she was feeling good about life this morning. Whether that was because of the glow she’d felt from the moment she’d met Brendan or the renewed sense of peace she’d found by going through the Black family history, she felt centered for the first time in months.

“But Vince’ll be in soon,” Charley purred, “so you may want to—”

“Get my ass in gear,” Scarlett said appreciatively, completing Charley’s thought.

***

While magazine covers and photo layouts are always sleek and glossy, and the aura around all areas of the media is one of glamour and luxury, the truth behind it all is good, old-fashioned hard work.

Three a.m. makeup calls. Hours in a makeup chair making sure every flaw is corrected and every pore diminished. People poking and prodding while the art director or photographer looks at the models and actors under a microscope as though they’re merely canvases on which to create an artistic vision.

And they are. Commodities. Highly paid and often pampered, not because of who they are, but because of what they are. And, more often than not, with a frighteningly short shelf life, the expiration date stamped in their minds like a tattoo.

Under the remarkable artistry of Greg, Alex, and Ashley, the models were ready to head to the shoot in a little under two hours.

The models wore their own casual wear as their guides led them to the Rovers that would take them to the watering hole. The terrain was wild and the ride incredibly bumpy. The night stars were still out, the only light except for the headlights on their vehicles. Now and again, wild animals scurried across the vehicles’ path, and the drivers deftly avoided them as if they’d driven this obstacle course hundreds of times.

It took twenty-five minutes to arrive at the base camp near the watering hole. With a tracker to guide them, they would travel to a location that was out of the way of animal trails and downwind from where predators were expected to be. A game ranger could be seen sitting in the production van. That was standard procedure for any location shoot in the veld, to make sure every safety precaution was followed. Above all, the tourist board wanted to make sure every vacationer who visited the country left there in one piece to regale their friends about this land of wonder.

The two Rovers pulled into the site just before 5:00 a.m. Sunrise was scheduled for 5:21 so they only had twenty minutes to get the models into the swimsuits they’d sifted through the night before. Headlights lit the area.

Charley, in her lightweight khaki shorts and short-sleeved shirt, jumped out of the first Rover and headed to the van. When the door opened, she gasped.

“Morning,” Brendan said, smiling.

“I—thought you had today off,” Charley stammered.

Don’t let me drool…don’t let me drool…don’t let me drool.

“I switched shifts with one of the girls,” he said. “She wasn’t feeling well this morning so I volunteered to cover for her.”

So it wasn’t to see me, Charley thought glumly.

“Great.” she smiled wanly. “Now, we need to get in here.”

“Right,” Brendan said as he stared at her. Something in Charley’s eyes mesmerized him. He wiped at the corners of his mouth.

He’s not drooling, is he? Charley asked herself, hoping it was true.

“Ahem,” they heard from behind her.

“We need to get in there.” Scarlett smiled, cocking her head. “Unless you want to explain to Vince why we couldn’t get ready.”

***

Ashley and her assistant headed into the changing area, and the girls changed into their bikinis. They’d each done this a hundred times, Scarlett a thousand, so it was quick and easy.

By the time they emerged, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon with shafts of coral, orange, and pink streaking the blackness. It was a glorious sight as the morning came alive, revealing dozens of the most exotic animals on the planet moving toward the massive watering hole, which was surrounded by a smattering of lush trees. Hippos, giraffes, kudus, and wildebeests all drank from the same well.

The girls piled out of the van, all barefoot and equally glorious. Brigitta wore a shimmering silver Dolce & Gabbana thong with a barely-there top that showed the outline of her nipples. Nikki was in a deep golden one-piece with the back cut down to the base of her spine. Scarlett shone in copper that added fire to her leonine red mane.

Vince was setting his camera as Charley positioned the girls. Brigitta on the ground resting her slightly tipped head on her elbow, Nikki kneeling behind her, and Scarlett in an elegant pose reaching for the sky. They undulated slightly at Vince’s command, the animals oblivious to the action.

Charley was taking notes and making adjustments as Vince directed.

“Suggestion?” Charley asked.

“Go for it,” Vince answered.

“Scarlett in front, Brigitta in the rear,” she offered. “The color palette’s better.”

“Once again, right,” Vince admitted. “Girls, let’s give Charley’s idea a shot.”

Nikki and Brigitta were fine with the repositioning. Scarlett was not. She knew the attention would go to the leggy blonde, and she was pissed. She stood stock-still and glared.

“You okay with this, Scarlett?” Vince asked with a tone that said she’d better be.

“No!” she barked back in a tone that even startled her. “I am not fine with her constant interference, Vince! She hates me. You know that, don’t you?”

“She has a fabulous eye,” he snapped. “And you’re being the egotistical bitch that nearly killed your reputation, Scarlett!”

“Her brother’s the guy I dumped when I went back to you, and she’s taking it out on me.”

Vince’s teeth clenched and his fist pumped.

“That was fucking ten years ago,” he spewed. “Now move your bony ass.”

They were nearly now nose to nose.

“I’ll move it all right,” she glared and then turned on her heel and stomped away from him toward the bushes that rimmed the watering hole.

“Get back here!” he shouted.

“I need five. Everyone take five!” Scarlett screamed as she kept moving.

Nikki and Brigitta rose from their positions, while Ashley, Greg, and Alex shared looks of disgust at Scarlett’s tantrum.

“The sun’s changing every second, Scarlett,” Vince warned.

“Five!” Scarlett demanded again as she waved him off dismissively.

“We may need ten, Vince,” Charley shrugged. They did need to stay on schedule, but Charley recognized a stone wall when she saw one.

“Ten minutes,” Vince growled, thrusting his hands through his hair and heading to the van.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Charley called after him apologetically.

“Somehow, I don’t think her seeing you is going to help,” Nikki said from behind her.

“Or you,” Brigitta said to Nikki, remembering how threatened Scarlett had been when Cornelius flirted with Nikki and not her. “I’ll get her back,” she said, smiling innocently.

Before Charley could object, Brigitta headed after their petulant coworker.

Charley sighed heavily. She turned to see Brendan staring straight at her. Even with three of the most glamorous women in the world nearly naked in front of him, and all the chaos, his eyes were only on her.

Charley felt her face flush as he smiled. But the moment was broken by a blood-curdling scream.

Brendan snapped back to see Scarlett at the base of one of the low-hanging trees, staring horrified into the bush. Brigitta was several feet in front of her. Behind them, the animals began to stir.

“Everyone move slowly but quickly to the Rovers,” Brendan commanded calmly. “Girls, that means you.”

Scarlett backed away, shaking like a leaf as the others moved to the protection of the cars. Then she turned quickly and bolted, running smack into Brigitta. As if in slow motion, Brigitta tumbled to the ground, her arms flailing as her head landed with a crack on a large boulder.

Everything stopped.

Scarlett was in shock, and Brigitta was out cold.

Brendan swiftly moved to the model’s side.

“Everyone stay back,” he said.

He checked her over quickly but efficiently. She was still breathing but foggy when she was asked her name and where she was. Her bell had been rung badly, and her face was red and swelling.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Charley said.

“No, I think I’m okay,” Brigitta insisted. “Really. Just need to rest a little.”

“Let’s get someone to the game farm to check her over,” Brendan said. “If you can call our friends at Tom-Ali.”

“Doesn’t anyone care about me?” they heard behind them. Scarlett was frozen in place, her translucent skin paler than ever.

“Come on, Scarlett, Brigitta,” Charley said as she led them both to the production van.

With the sun filtering light across the bush, Brendan moved to investigate the situation. Just out of view of the others he saw what Scarlett had faced: two dead white rhino, a mother and her calf. Their horns were severed and blood stained their cheeks like red tears. The meat on their carcasses had been nearly stripped clean.

It was just after 8:00 a.m. when Cornelius pulled the van into the gravel parking lot of Tom-Ali. He’d had an exhausting night and had only caught a few hours of sleep before heading to the clinic. Bill was due in at nine, and patients would be lining up soon for their free services.

Kayla and Marlena would also be arriving before long for their trip to the Mapusha weavers. They would want to be on the road as early as possible to make the forty-five minute trek to the weavers’ village of Rooiboklaagte, since the heat would become brutal as it neared noon. They would be taking the van so Cornelius had to make sure there were no telltale signs of his butchery.

Cornelius turned off the engine and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror.

A million rand. Not bad, he thought. In U.S. dollars that’s nearly a hundred fifty thousand. Before long I’ll have enough to retire in St. Thomas. Too bad about that calf…

In the sliver of the mirror, he could see what appeared to be patients approaching in the distance behind him. Their ages were indeterminable, but one was shuffling and the other had his arm in a sling. Cornelius pulled the gun from under the passenger’s seat and then went to the rear door of the clinic and opened it with his key.

***

Bill was startled to see Cornelius enter. But he was not as startled as Cornelius was to see him.

“Mornin’,” Bill said.

“Same,” Cornelius answered. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than most, not as good as some,” Bill lied. The truth was that he was feeling worse than usual. Listless, he could feel his hands trembling and his stomach churning.

“What’s up?” Cornelius said as casually as he could. “Didn’t expect to see you so early.”

“Wanted to check inventory,” Bill said. “Make sure we have enough to cover Kayla’s trip to Rooiboklaagte. We’re tight.”

“I stocked the van yesterday.”

Bill looked relieved.

“But I get it. I’m really sorry about the financial mess,” Cornelius said.

The truth was that Cornelius was thrilled everything was falling apart. He’d been up to his hips in the rhino-poaching scandal for more than six months and knew the heat was on.

“Thanks for not telling anyone,” Bill answered. “Unfortunately Patch found out, but he swears he won’t tell Kayla yet.”

Good deal, Cornelius thought. Everyone’s learning you’re in deep and need cash—several hundred thousand dollars—or the clinic is history.

“Let me put this away, and I’ll give you a hand,” Cornelius said casually.

For the first time, Bill noticed the Browning A-Bolt.

“Is that mine?” he said.

He’d been so wrapped up in his own worries that he barely noticed anything anymore. Besides, the Rohypnol Cornelius had dropped into last night’s Carling Black Label was still in his system.

“You asked me to have it cleaned,” Cornelius lied as he presented the rifle to Bill. “Before the holiday, remember?”

Bill shook his head slowly as Cornelius handed him the rifle. “No, I don’t. When?”

“Bill, I’m getting worried here,” Cornelius said, dodging the question. “Just after Christmas. We were discussing security, and you wanted to make sure we had it covered. Do you really not remember?”

Bill turned the gun over in his hands several times, straining to remember. His brow furled as he tried to remember but couldn’t—because it wasn’t true. Before Bill could answer, there was a knocking on the door.

“I saw them headed toward us when I parked. It’s a young Xhosa with his arm in a makeshift sling. Let me put that in the back and wash up,” Cornelius said as he indicated Bill’s rifle.

“Thanks,” was all Bill could say as he handed the gun back to Cornelius. The gun with his fresh fingerprints all over it.

“Then I’ll make sure the van’s ready to go,” Cornelius answered as he headed to the storage room.

“Thanks,” Bill said again solemnly as he went to let in the first patient.

Bill was befuddled, and Cornelius knew it.

Like taking candy from a baby
, Cornelius thought, smiling to himself as he disappeared into the storage room.
A very big, very drugged baby.

***

By the time Patch pulled into the lot and parked next to Bill’s car, a line had formed in the waiting pen. The rear doors of the Jeep opened and Kayla got out first, releasing the straps on Joe’s car seat as he squirmed.

Patch and Marlena climbed out of the front.

“Thank you so much for picking me up,” Marlena said, smiling.

“Did we have a choice?” Patch joked.

“Steve!” Kayla said, reprimanding him. “We could have said no, rather than all three of us showing up.”

Patch and Kayla had joined Marlena and John for a lavish breakfast in the lapa of the Royal Londolani before the day started. The owner and his wife were two of the top chefs in South Africa, and their meals were legendary. The Royal Londolani was known for having the most scrumptious meals in the area, if not in most of South Africa, especially breakfast. They offered wild boar steaks and the freshest eggs, fruits, freshly baked breads, and croissants that would make a Frenchman jealous. When John invited Patch and Kayla, there was no way they could or would say no.

It had been a beautiful way to start a day that would take Marlena to one of her favorite places in the area.

“Sorry that John’s not going with us,” Patch said to Marlena as they approached the front door.

Marlena wasn’t. She would love to have John visit the synergy project that had become so important to Patch and Kayla, but when she and John were together, her focus was laser sharp on him. Today Bill needed her; Patch and Kayla needed her; and the project needed her. And she needed time on her own.

When they entered the clinic, Bill was at the desk going over a list of the day’s patients with Beauty and another young Xsoha who was volunteering. They knew nearly everyone who showed up at their door from the small town and the surrounding area.

“Well, hi all.” Bill smiled as Joe headed for the small candy bowl in front of him and dove right in.

“One piece, Joe Johnson,” Kayla cautioned as the others said hello.

“Only one?” Joe said with pleading eyes on Bill.

“One for now, and maybe one for later,” he answered. “But only if your mommy and daddy say it’s okay.” Being brought up a well-mannered Horton, Bill still held fast to the idea that parents have the final say.

Joe stared at his father with his big, blue eyes. “Okay, one for now, and one for later, Bud.”

“Softy,” Kayla said, shaking her head.

Joe popped the candy in his pocket and started running from room to room.

“Where’s Cornelius?” Kayla asked.

“Gassing up the van,” Bill informed her.

“Then could we take twenty minutes, you and me?” Marlena asked Bill.

“Want to check my brain?” Bill responded. They had worked together off and on so many times that they understood each other’s shorthand.

“Well, yes,” she said simply and smiled. Marlena’s smile was as warm as it had been the first time he’d met her.

“I may be crazy these days, but I’m not stupid,” Bill responded wryly. He glanced at Kayla and gave her a knowing look. “I know how close you two are, Kayla, and I don’t blame you for being concerned. I am, too.”

“It’s been a little scary,” Kayla admitted.

“If we leave in thirty, we’ll be fine,” Patch said. “I can run this little guy around outside for a few,” he said as Joe ran past him.

“Good idea,” Kayla nodded.

“Let’s use one of the exam rooms,” Bill said as he led Marlena to the back. “I need some answers.”

***

“It is good to see you, Bill,” Marlena said as he took a seat across from her in a room that was spare but functional.

“I’ve had incredible pressures, Marlena,” Bill admitted.

“Want to tell me about them?” she asked.

Bill studied the woman he respected so highly and knew at this point he had doctor-patient privilege. But the stubborn male pride he’d been famous for in Salem wouldn’t let him admit his folly.

“The economy sucks,” is all he said. “But that doesn’t explain my memory lapses.”

“You know the drill, I’m sure.”

Bill nodded, and Marlena took a pad and pencil from her handbag.

“Let’s start with me giving you a list. Then I want you to say it out loud, and I’ll ask for it again later.”

He nodded again.

“Candle, pencil, fire engine…” she said as she began the standard memory tests for dementia and Alzheimer’s. Marlena knew Bill’s family history well, and while his ex-wife had once been diagnosed with severe mental illness, there was none in the Horton lineage. That diagnosis was unlikely, but as a professional she had to check.

Bill passed with flying colors.

“I just keep forgetting things!” He was disgusted with himself. “Meetings, details, phone calls, things like that.”

Actually, aside from his financial blunder, Bill was as sharp as a tack.

“How much have you been drinking?” Marlena asked matter-of-factly.

“No more than two beers a day, and usually not even that,” he assured her.

Marlena was puzzled.

“Have you had a blood test recently?”

“Nope,” Bill admitted.

“Well, if it’s a chemical imbalance, that’ll give us some answers,” Marlena said with confidence as she made a note to ask Kayla or Cornelius to draw a blood panel.

“I hope so, Marlena,” Bill said. “If I don’t figure this out, I really will go crazy.”