Bouquet of Lies (18 page)

“She tucked Darla in bed and reached her hand out to me, to reassure me, I guess. But I jerked back. I was really scared and I think that hurt her. Well. In the dream it hurt her, because I decided this was a dream. Otherwise I was looking at a ghost. I closed my eyes and when I opened them it was morning and she was gone. I had a bite mark on my arm, but she was gone. I decided that was as real a nightmare as nightmares could get, and I tried to forget it. Darla didn’t mention it, not until much later.”

“How much later?”

“A year later, maybe. It’s hard to know exactly. The point is, she tried to tell everyone that Mother was alive and we all corrected her. Edward always at the top of his lungs. So then she’d say Mommy was a ghost and Daddy would tell her not to mention it again and I told her she had too vivid of dreams. Mommy wasn’t alive and she wasn’t a ghost either.” Lacey gave a little snort. “Now with the death certificate turning out to be a fake, it seems little mixed-up Darla was right on. And, of course, Harper and Edward knew she was, but they told her she was nuts. I don’t think I ever used that term, but I never agreed with her.”

“You were six.”

“If that was Mom in her room, she probably came more than once. I don’t remember ever seeing her again. But she could have.  Darla knew what she saw and I didn’t back up her story. Even when . . .” She picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. “Even when I wasn’t six. I was ten and the locket showed up. I assumed Grandmama Harriet had given it to me and I’d just forgotten. But Grandmama would never have put a photo of our mother in a locket. I should have thought of that. But I didn’t. I really didn’t. And I just went along like everybody else, convinced Darla wasn’t in her right mind. Think what that did to her.”

“You think your mother gave you a locket.”

“She gave one to each of us. She must have.”

The salt air made Lacey’s eyes sting. She touched a tear at the corner of her eye and sniffled. She realized it wasn’t the salt air making her eyes smart. It was the most painful memory she had and it was about to leap from her mouth. She’d hurt Darla as much as anyone. She had to admit that now. Darla’s suicide attempt was as much her fault as it was anyone else’s.

“One day, a couple years ago, I found Darla in the bathtub. All those years of no one believing her. Maybe that’s not the only reason. Maybe she was too sensitive. I don’t know. I’ve never understood her. All I do know is that she’s good. And she thinks of others. And she tried not to leave a big mess for anybody to have to clean up. But she was in pain and I always assumed it was because in reality she knew Mother was dead and wanted to be with her. Anyway, she slit her wrists one night and it was just by chance I happened to go looking for her to talk to her.”

“
You
found her?”

“It was the most horrible sight. The tub was full of so much red water, it looked like she was bathing in blood. I managed to wrap her wrists and all the while I kept telling her, ‘Don’t you die on me. Don’t you dare die.’ And I called 911.”

It was midnight and the beach was closed. Lacey held her stuffed animal in one arm and swung her sandals with the other as she and Dan walked to his car. They were quiet. Her story had put a somber spin on the evening and she hated that. Laughing was a better way to fill one’s time. Kissing too.

“Feel free to disregard that story,” she said.

“As long as I can feel free not to disregard it as well.” He didn’t smile. He was being serious. Too serious.

“I’m sorry I ruined the fun.”

“You didn’t. I asked. I’m glad you told me.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. But now it’s time to put Mr. Serious Guy away and lighten up. Can we do that?”

They were at the car now. He looked at her across the Challenger’s roof, his face solemn. Suddenly he gave her an exaggerated grin. “You mean like that?”

She laughed. “Well, sorta. Only for real.”

“Bona fide non-seriousness.” The car chirped indicating the doors were open and he hopped in.

She hopped in, too. “Good one. Point taken. Are we headed to your place now?”

He looked at her. “Are you serious?”

“Well . . .” She laughed. “Okay. You’ve won the play on words game. Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

Her brows dropped. “Why?”

“Because this evening was perfect and I want it to end that way.”

She didn’t understand. She looked at him for a moment, then turned and tossed the stuffed monkey in to the backseat. When she turned back he placed a hand under her chin. His touch was gentle, but electric.

“At the risk of bringing back Mr. Serious Guy, I’ll try to explain.”

She waited.

“I could take you back to my place. I’ve had one-night stands before.”

“You think I want a one-night stand?” Now she was doubly confused.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t want a one-night stand, a one-month stand, a four-month stand, a however long whatever.”

“No one can predict—”

“I know.” He sighed. “What I’m trying to say is . . .” His eyes sought understanding in hers. “There’s a time for, what should I call it? Lighthearted intimacy. But not the first time when you really want to be close to someone. I want to know you.”

An almost orgasmic sense of vulnerability swept through her. It scared her.

He continued. “Sex too soon, it’s like a torpedo. It destroys the wrong things when it’s detonated at the wrong time.”

“But what a way to go.” She laughed.

“Okay. Okay.” He started the car. “Jokes are more comfortable for you than raw honesty.”

She put her hand on his. “I heard you. I get it.”

He left the car in park and looked into her eyes. “I hope so.”

She smiled. And then she grinned. “A torpedo, huh?” It was something to look forward to. Sex as powerful as a weapon of mass destruction. She placed her chin upon his shoulder. “And what about our next kiss? Do I have to wait for that?”

He leaned in and they kissed and Lacey was certain she heard bombs bursting in air.

Twenty-two

AWAKE IN HER bed, Lacey dreamed of Dan. Six kisses. Yes, she was counting. That’s all they’d had so far. And whatever his timetable was, whatever plan he had up his sleeve, it was working. She’d never wanted anyone more in her life. And she was also never more willing to wait for anyone in her life. Now there was a contradiction in desire if ever there was one.

She rolled to her side and looked at the clock. It was two in the morning. For more than an hour she’d been reliving the evening: Dan’s lips, his arms, broad shoulders, his embrace, his words of philosophy. She reached for the cell phone which she’d ignored up until now to see if he might have sent her a text and found that she had two from Courtney: Wher R U?, and then, ISO friend.

She texted Courtney: Ticket Master has new name. WMD XOXOZZZ.

That would pique her interest. What would arouse Dan’s? Her fingers hit the keys: Picturing U, Me. Waiting for the world to end. XOXOZZZ.

She chuckled and rolled over and realized that while she’d heard from Courtney, there’d been no call, no message, from Tiffany. Now was the perfect time to try to reach her. Everyone answered a ringing phone in the middle of the night.

Everyone apparently, except Tiffany and Honey. The answer machine picked up once again. This time she left a message. “Your youngest Bouquet daughter is getting married. We need bodies at the ceremony. Can we count on you? Call me.” She left her number.

Lacey got a good thirty minutes of sleep before a yelp reached her from across the hall. It took a second to transition from visions of Dan dancing in her head, to the realization that Darla was in the midst of her recurring nightmare. She raced to Darla’s bedside.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s this?” Lacey wrapped her arms around her sister. “I thought life was going great. Prince Randy hasn’t chased those bad dreams away yet?”

Darla sniffled. “Don’t joke.”

“I always joke.”

“Well, don’t.” She clung to Lacey. “I was back in the box and the box was floating in space.”

“A variation, this time.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Darla started to cry. “All I know is Randy doesn’t love me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In the dream I was in the box, but it was an invisible box and I could see Randy through the glass and the box was chained and he took out a gun and shot the chain and the box floated up to the stars and I was alone, except I could hear his voice. He was telling me goodbye.”

Lacey started to stroke her sister’s hair and ran into the headband. She removed it and tossed it onto the dresser.

“Hey.” Darla pushed up and leaned toward the dresser. “Randy gave me that.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to sleep with it. It’s probably giving you a headache. Maybe it triggered your dream. Besides, you said he doesn’t love you anymore.”

“But I love him.”

“Of course, you do. But if I know anything about infatuation—”

“It’s not infatuation. This is real.”

As real as a mirage,
Lacey wanted to say, but didn’t.

Darla lay back down. “I shouldn’t have said no.”

“You didn’t. You said yes.”

“Not about getting married. About shooting a gun.”

Okay, this was getting weird. “What gun? He wants you to shoot a gun? At who?”

“At the shooting range. He wants to teach me because of what happened to Dad.”

“He wants you to shoot Mom?”

“No!” But the statement gave Darla pause and she was quiet for a second. “He just wants to be sure I can defend myself in case something happens.”

“So he’s giving you a gun?” Darla with a gun. That was a chilling thought. Edward had a couple in the house, but they were locked away somewhere, and Darla had never shown any interest. Why would Randy really want Darla to have a gun?

“I told him guns scared me and . . .”

“And what?”

“And not to leave it here. I didn’t need a gun and he seemed sort of upset about it and then he told me he couldn’t see me—”

“Because you didn’t want a gun?”

“No. Because he was busy and we couldn’t go to dinner. And then as he was leaving he told me to think about it.”

“About not going to dinner?”

“No. About having a gun and learning to shoot. And it’s all I’ve been thinking about. And I called him and told him I would, but he didn’t pick up and now I’m scared he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“And then you had this dream. Well, fear not, little sis. I’m sure he broke your date because he was busy, not because you don’t like guns.”

“That’s what the Reverend Irene said.”

Lacey went rigid. Darla was still talking to the charlatan. Between the murders, Randy’s sudden proposal, and the fake psychic, it felt like wolves were at the door. Maybe
she
should get a gun. “Think you can sleep now?”

“I think so. Sorry I woke you.” Darla pulled the blanket up higher and buried her head in her pillow.

That pillow should be made of sand
, thought Lacey as she went back to bed.

The next day was busy. Lacey helped Darla find a dress. They visited three different bridal shops. The gown would have to fit off the rack. Minor adjustments were okay, but only minor. There wasn’t enough time for anything else.

Right off the bat it was clear the two sisters had different visions. Darla wanted something fancy.
Froufrou
, Lacey stopped saying and started thinking after it was clear froufrou was Darla’s taste. It would look funny in their backyard with so few people present, Edward sneering, and Daddy not there to give the bride away. Also, Darla was a stick. The dresses she liked were so lavish they made her disappear.

Lacey started concentrating on who she could finagle into coming to the sham event. Her friends, of course. And maybe she would issue a memo to all employees of Bouquet Industries:
You are cordially invited to the inappropriate nuptials of Miss Darla Bouquet to Mr. Randy Barber. Be there with bells on or forget about a raise.
She chuckled and thought of Dan suddenly. He would be her date. She wondered how many friends he had.

“Lacey! Lacey, what do you think?”

Lacey looked up. Darla was a vision in white. It wasn’t froufrou; it was perfection. A taffeta draped A-line gown with beaded lace appliqués on the bodice and skirt, available in size zero. It fit her to a tee. The dress consultant must have gotten through to her.  

By late afternoon they’d also arranged for flowers. Lacey would give a little more thought to the number of chairs they were going to need before she contracted for that. Darla was back on cloud nine with the progress they made. And it didn’t hurt that Randy called. He wanted to take her to a movie.

Tiffany didn’t call. Lacey wasn’t surprised. She phoned Jake’s cell to ask for another ride to the Hotel Pamela and learned he was on the road. He’d taken off for a few days to think about Darla. To be precise, he used the word
skedaddled
which didn’t make him sound overly depressed, but still, he was feeling bad enough to go away.

“No driving over a cliff,” she told him and at least he laughed.

“No cliffs. Maybe a precipice or two.”

“Nothing over three feet high.”

“I’ll measure first. Lacey, don’t worry.”

“You should’ve let Darla know how you feel.”

“I didn’t want to scare her.”

“And look how that worked out. Come back and take me with you.”

“I will if you want me to.”

“No. Better not. I’ve got a hotel to stalk.”

She called for a taxi and asked the driver to wait when they reached the Hotel Pamela. He pulled a gun from the glove compartment and placed it on his lap. “Don’ be too long. I don’ wan have to use.”

Lacey grimaced and hopped out.

The gatekeeper looked the same. Feet up. Beer belly. TV. Only this time he smirked in recognition and talked. “Lookie here. It’s a party.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The cops are upstairs.” He motioned with his head and popped some peanuts into his mouth.

“Why? What happened?”

“They showed up ten minutes ago asking about your friend.”

“What? Why?”

“Oh, yeah. The cops filled me in on everything. We’re like this.” He crossed two fingers and held them up.

“Well, is she here?”

“Nope.”

“Where’d she go?”

“Do I look like her mother? She came home yesterday. Went upstairs. Came down with a suitcase and said she was moving.”

The blood drained from Lacey’s face. She was gone? Now how would she find her? And what had she done that made the cops come running?

“What about Honey? She should know where she went.”

“Honey strolled on out of here a couple hours later all gussied up for some hotsy-totsy date. Of course, I use the term date loosely. And she ain’t been back.”

“And now the police are here. Something bad happened.”

“Hey, you catch on quick. Here’s some more info for that steel-trap brain. The cops are from homicide.”

Lacey’s body went cold. Homicide? And they were asking about Tiffany? Who was dead? Tiffany? Or had she killed someone? And what about Honey? Lacey’s stomach tied itself in knots. She’d talked to Stark, now he was dead. She’d come looking for Tiffany and now homicide detectives were here. Was she jumping to conclusions or was she leaving bodies in her wake?

“Looks like we got an empty apartment when the cops are done tossing the place. You interested?” He crisscrossed his ankles and popped some more peanuts.

Her shoes felt like they’d been nailed to the floor. She couldn’t decide whether to run out or run upstairs. If she went upstairs she’d have to explain why she was there and how would that help anything? This case these cops were investigating couldn’t have anything to do with her. She backed toward the door.

“Hey. Where you going? Shall I tell the cops you dropped by?” He got out of the chair and waddled to the counter. With a smirk, he tapped his finger beside the slot where money and keys slipped through. “Or you want that kept on the q.t.?”

Pay him to keep his mouth shut?
She considered it for half a second then remembered she’d left a message on Honey and Tiffany’s answering machine. Right on cue her cell phone rocked and the ID let her know the call came from Tiffany and Honey’s phone. Should she talk to the cops now or buy some time? She let the call roll to voice mail.

“Tell them whatever you want.”

She hurried to the taxi and had the driver take her to Dan’s.