Malibu Mayhem Trilogy 02: Mystery At Malachite Mansion (11 page)

“Thank goodness,” Bess said softly.

“Stacey was destroying Roland’s memory,” Inge said firmly. “I had to find a way back into the mansion and stop the madness.”

I stared at her. Stop the madness—or stop the party?

“So
you
sabotaged the party plans,” I told Inge. “You poured water in Miss Zaza’s shoes, set the fire in the middle of the night, and tampered with Chef Walters’s food.”

Inge didn’t hesitate. She jutted her chin out and said, “I did, and if I had the chance, I’d do it again.”

“Inge, you could have killed innocent people!” Bess said angrily. “Just like you could have killed us and so many others at your crazy cult.”

“Killing
people
wasn’t my plan,” Inge said. “Killing that pathetic
party
of Stacey’s was.”

That explained why Inge had sabotaged the party, but it didn’t explain something else….

“You’re supposed to be in prison, Inge,” I said. “We saw the police arrest you the day of the explosion.”

“You’re right,” Inge said with a sly smile. “They did take me in.”

“Then how …?” Bess started to say.

“Luckily, one of the prison guards was a Roland follower and helped me escape,” Inge said. “I was also lucky that my old keys to the mansion still worked.”

It wasn’t long before the police and EMT workers showed up. Bess, George, and I watched as the queen of disguises was carried up the hill on a stretcher.

“I bet Inge was hiding out and sleeping in Roland’s office,” George said in disgust. “How pathetic.”

“At least we found out who sabotaged Stacey’s party,” I said as we reached the car. “Looks like we solved another case, girls.”

“But what about all that stuff Inge said about Stacey?” Bess asked. “Do you really believe she was part of Roland’s cult?”

I shook my head and said, “I wouldn’t believe anything that wacky woman told us, would you?”

“Yeah,” George agreed. “Inge would have tried to pull the plug on that party no matter who was giving it.”

We drove the short way to Stacey’s beach house and parked the car in the driveway. By now even Bess was too exhausted to go to Rodeo Drive.

“Stacey’s probably still working on her surprise, whatever it is,” George said. “Let’s hang out on her deck, then we’ll go over and tell her we caught the sabotager.”

“You mean
saboteur
,” Bess corrected. “It’s a French word.”

“Pardonne-moi!”
George said.

From the deck we could see Mia walking up the beach toward the house. The closer she got, the more upset she looked.

“What’s wrong, Mia?” I asked as she climbed the steps to the deck. “Is something up?”

“I hope you and your sisters are feeling better,” Bess said.

“We are.” Mia nodded. “Mallory felt well enough to keep her appointment with Dr. Raymond today.”

George grimaced and said, “You mean that plastic surgeon?”

“Did something go wrong at the doctor’s?” I asked.

“No, no, no,” Mia said, shaking her head. “Mallory’s fine.”

“Then what happened?” I asked.

“I went with Mallory, and she was just going to speak to the doctor about our contest. You know, where the winner gets the plastic surgery procedure of her choice?”

“Yeah, we know,” George said.

“While Mallory was talking to Dr. Raymond, I went to get some water,” Mia went on. “On the way down the hall, I passed the recovery room. I looked inside for a second and saw this man sitting in a chair facing the door. His face was totally covered with bandages except for his eyes.”

“He probably had major work done,” I said. “If that’s what’s upsetting you, I’m sure the doctor gave him meds for his pain.”

“It’s not that,” Mia said. “His eyes were a piercing shade of light blue, and they were staring straight at me. The minute I saw those eyes, I knew whose they were.”

“Whose?” I asked.

“Roland’s,”
Mia whispered, her voice cracking. “I could swear they were.”

We all looked at Mia. She was wringing her hands and looked like she was about to cry.

“Mia, listen,” I said gently. “I know you had a horrible experience in that cult. So did Bess and I, but Roland is dead.”

Mia’s shoulders dropped as she groaned under her breath. “Now you’re telling me I’m imagining this,” she said. “Look, I know what I saw, and I know that guy underneath those bandages was Roland!”

“Okay, okay,” I said trying to calm her. “Did you ask anyone at the doctor’s office who it was?”

“I was too scared to,” Mia admitted. “I told Mallory after we left the office, but she thought I was crazy too.”

“We don’t think you’re crazy, Mia,” I said. “I just don’t think Roland is still alive.”

“Whatever,” Mia grumbled, and then she stormed off the deck. When she was off our beach and out of earshot, I turned to Bess and George.

“She’s still freaked out about the cult,” I said. “No wonder she thinks she saw Roland.”

“Unless he rose from the dead,” George said with a laugh. “Or from the ashes of his burning yacht like a phoenix—”

“What if it’s true?” Bess interrupted. “What if Mia really
did
see Roland? It’s not like anybody ever found his body after the explosion, right?”

“Even Inge said Roland was dead, Bess,” George said.

“She may
think
he’s dead,” Bess said. “Inge was hauled off to jail right after Roland’s yacht blew up. How would she even know?”

Bess had a point. Though I didn’t believe the bandaged man Mia had seen was Roland—even the idea freaked me out—we couldn’t definitively rule it out.

“Okay then, let’s go to Dr. Raymond’s and see for ourselves,” I said. “Stacey wanted us to disappear for a while anyway.”

George heaved a sigh as she pulled out her phone. “I’ll look up his address,” she said. “What if we need an appointment?”

“An appointment could take weeks,” Bess said.

“We don’t need to see the doctor,” I said. “I know it won’t be easy, but we just have to get inside that recovery room and check out that bandaged man.”

After browsing a few more seconds, George held up her phone. “Dr. Raymond’s office is right on Rodeo Drive,” she said before throwing Bess a warning look. “Don’t even think of going shopping.”

On our way to Rodeo Drive, we passed Roland’s mansion. A black truck was now parked outside.

“I bet that’s the flower delivery,” Bess said.

“Too early for that,” I said. “Maybe it has something to do with Stacey’s surprise. Whatever that is.”

Once we hit Rodeo Drive, I had to admit it was pretty awesome. Walking from the car to the doctor’s office, I couldn’t help gazing into the windows of the high-end stores and salons. George had a hard time dragging Bess away from the windows as she practically pressed her nose against the glass!

Just as impressive was Dr. Raymond’s office, with its plush white carpet, exotic flower arrangements, and gold-framed mirrors.

We already had a plan when we stepped up to the reception desk. First, we would find a way to see Dr. Raymond. And once we were in the back, one of us would find a way to check out the recovery room.

“Hello,” I said to the receptionist. “I’d like to see Dr. Raymond for a consultation.”

The tanned receptionist, whose name plate read
KENDRA
, smiled up at me. “Certainly,” she said. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” I said.

“Oh, you need an appointment to see the doctor,” Kendra replied. She glanced at her computer screen. “Dr. Raymond’s earliest appointment is exactly … six months from today.”

“Six months?” George cried.

“Nancy can’t wait that long,” Bess said. “This is an emergency.”

“An emergency?” Kendra said, looking me up and down. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Nancy is competing in a beauty pageant in three weeks,” Bess blurted. “It’s her first one, and just look at her! She needs all the help she can get.”

I shot Bess a sideways glance. Couldn’t she have come up with something better than that?

We waited for an answer. Kendra pursed her lips and said, “Sorry. I can call you if we have a cancellation.”

George heaved a big sigh and said, “The Casabian sisters never have to wait this long. They told us getting an appointment with Dr. Raymond would be easy.”

As we turned away from the desk, Kendra called, “Wait! You know Mandy, Mallory, and Mia?”

“We live next door to Villa Fabuloso,” I said.

“Well, then,” Kendra said, smiling back at her computer. “Let’s see if I can squeeze you in today. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” After a few seconds she looked up. “The doctor will see you in a few minutes,” she said. “Why don’t you make yourselves comfortable in the waiting room?”

The three of us sat side by side on the sofa.

“You and Bess can see Dr. Raymond,” George
whispered. “I’ll check out the recovery room and this bandaged guy.”

“You don’t know where the recovery room is,” Bess whispered.

Just then a door near the reception desk marked
MEDICAL TRANSCRIPTION
opened. A woman walked out and said, “Kendra, I’m going to lunch. Want anything?”

“Just some of that vitamin water I like,” she answered as the woman left the office. “Thanks, Shanna.”

“Medical Transcription is where they keep the records,” I whispered. “If Roland had work done here, I bet there are records, too.”

“Bingo!” George whispered. “I want to sneak in there, but how can I get past Kendra?”

At that moment the receptionist looked up and said, “Nancy? The doctor will see you in his office now. You can bring your friends if you’d like.”

The three of us stood up.

“Can you bring us to his office, please?” I asked. “We’ve never been here before.”

“It’s right over there.” Kendra pointed down the hall.

“Nancy’s a little nervous,” Bess said. “It’s her … first time.”

“Oh, okay!” Kendra said, standing up. “Follow me.”

I glanced over my shoulder at George. She was
already inching her way toward the Medical Transcription office.

All systems go
, I thought.

Kendra opened the door to Dr. Raymond’s office, and we stepped inside.

Dr. Raymond stood up from behind his desk. He looked more like a middle-aged movie star than a doctor.

“So who is Nancy?” he asked, grinning with perfectly straight teeth.

“I am,” I said. “This is my friend Bess.”

The doctor had Bess and me sit in chairs facing his desk. After he sat down again, he said, “I understand you’re friends with the Casabian sisters, and that you’re having a beauty crisis.”

“I guess you could call it that,” I said.

“If I may share my thoughts,” Dr. Raymond said. He leaned over his desk to study my face. “Your nose is a bit fleshy, your left ear sticks out a bit, and your lips could use a little plumping.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“And though you’re still a teenager,” the doctor went on, “I’d start some chemical peels as soon as possible. It’s never too early to tackle sun damage.”

He held up a mirror and said, “I’m also noticing frown lines.”

“Um,” Bess said. “Maybe because she’s frowning?”

You bet I was frowning. This guy sounded more like Dr. Frankenstein!

“Can I think about what you said in the waiting room, doctor?” I asked. “I wouldn’t want to make the wrong decision.”

“Of course, Nancy, of course,” Dr. Raymond said. “You know, we can schedule you for surgery perhaps as soon as next week if you’d like.”

“Super!” I said, practically bolting out of the doctor’s office.

Bess hurried down the hall after me. “I don’t think your lips need plumping, Nancy,” she said. “Lots of people have ears that stick out too.”

“My ears don’t stick out—and I happen to like my nose!” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Now let’s hope George is finished snooping.”

When we reached the waiting room, I was happy to see George, pacing back and forth. Kendra was busy talking to another patient.

“Did anybody see you?” I whispered.

“No,” George said. “Listen to what I found out. One of the files was for a Marty Malone.”

“That’s Roland’s real name!” Bess gasped.

George nodded and went on. “Turns out Marty had plastic surgery the day of the yacht fire. He had the works—nose, eyes, face, even his hairline was changed.”

I felt my blood turn to ice.

“According to the file, the surgery was scheduled for two thirty p.m.,” George explained. “The surgery ended at exactly five p.m., which was when Marty—or Roland—went into recovery.”

I tried to remember what time the yacht blew up. It was shortly after we had gotten back from the hospital that day.

“Roland’s yacht blew up at around five thirty in the afternoon,” I said. “If he was recovering from surgery, how could he have been on that yacht?”

“Especially after going under the knife and anesthesia,” George said.

The three of us stared at one another, speechless. Finally Bess said, “Mia was right. The bandaged guy she saw today
was
Roland!”

T
he thought of Roland still alive tied my stomach into tight little knots, but I still had to see him with my own eyes.