Smoke in Mirrors (14 page)

“Even when he’s with a woman with whom he’s having an affair?” Cassie unzipped her gym bag and pulled out her sweatpants. “Is that what you were trying to say?”

He’d been about to say that Thomas was always calm and centered and at ease with himself even when he was with a woman he happened to be screwing. But he did not want to use the word
screw
around Cassie. It sounded a little crude. She might find it offensive. Besides, she already seemed a little irritated for some reason.

“Just thought I’d ask your opinion,” he muttered.

Cassie yanked her sweatpants on over her tights with uncharacteristically quick, violent motions. “From what you’ve told me, Thomas hasn’t been exactly celibate since his divorce. He dated that woman who worked up at Mirror House for a while a few months ago. Why would it be so strange if he was having another affair?”

“There’s just something different about this situation.” He struggled to put his hazy impressions into words. “Something different about Thomas.”

Cassie bent at the waist to tie the laces of her running shoes. “What?”

“Like I said, he seems very intense around Leonora. There’s a sort of energy between the two of them.”

“Sexual attraction produces a great deal of energy between two people. It charges the air around them.”

“But he wasn’t flirting with her. It was almost as if he was annoyed with her. Or maybe with himself. But that doesn’t feel right, either.”

Cassie straightened abruptly. “Sexual energy is like any other kind of energy. If it is ignored or resisted, it can form a kind of friction that easily translates into irritation or even outright anger. The only way to deal with it is to acknowledge it and channel it in a healthy, natural manner. I recommend concentrating on breath awareness. Very helpful.”

Deke winced. Cassie had that crisp, impatient tone in her voice that never failed to confuse and disturb him. It was as if she were lecturing a pupil who was being willfully slow.

“I never saw Thomas get this edgy around a woman,” he said.

“He’s probably on edge because they are not yet sleeping together.” Cassie reached for her sweatshirt and pulled it on over her head. “My guess is that once they start an affair, assuming they do, a lot of the tension will be removed from their relationship.”

“Think so?”

“Sex is an excellent means of reducing stress and elevating one’s general sense of well-being.” Her words were muffled by the enveloping folds of the shirt. “It can be very therapeutic.”

“Therapeutic? You really think so?”

“Yes.” Her head popped out of the neck hole. She avoided looking at him. “Under the appropriate circumstances, sex is a natural, wholesome way of revitalizing the lines of energy.”

“Appropriate circumstances?”

“I’m referring to a situation in which both parties are unattached, mutually attracted and in good health.”

Deke nodded. “Thomas is unattached and in good health and I think he’s attracted to Leonora.”

“What about you, Deke? You’re unattached and in good health, too. It’s been a year since you lost your wife. Don’t you occasionally think about getting involved with a woman?”

“Me?” Shit. Had she noticed his erection? “Involved?”

She exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I’m just your yoga instructor.”

Deke said nothing.

She slung her gym bag over her shoulder and went to the door. “I’ll see you on Friday. Meanwhile, work on that cobra pose. You’re forcing it. You need to relax into it.”

She opened the door and let herself out before he could formulate a response.

A familiar silence returned to the house. He had the feeling he hadn’t handled things well, but for the life of him he couldn’t see what he had done to make her mad. He’d just asked for her observations on Thomas and Leonora’s relationship, for crying out loud. Somehow she’d twisted the conversation into a discussion of his lack of an active sex life.

He didn’t need her to point out how barren his sex life was these days. He was all too well aware of that fact, especially when she was in the vicinity.

He went to the nearest window and pulled the curtains closed. He moved to the next window and repeated the action. He continued around the room until the shadows had returned.

When the familiar, comfortable gloom had pooled and deepened in the house he went to the desk and fired up the computer. He sat down and gazed into the glowing screen. He had planned to continue looking for anything he could find on the Eubanks murder, but for some reason he found himself thinking of the long-ago afternoon when he and Thomas had sat on the bed in Thomas’s
bedroom and listened to their parents hurl accusations at each other out in the kitchen.

He was nine at the time. Thomas was thirteen. Deke had wanted to cry. But Thomas wasn’t crying, so he couldn’t allow himself to give in to the tears.

“I think they’re going to get a divorce, Deke. I heard Dad say something about seeing a lawyer.”

“You mean like Jason’s folks?”

“Yeah. Dad will probably move out. That’s what usually happens, Mark told me.”

“Dad’s got a girlfriend, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what Mom says.”

“Think Mom will get a boyfriend after Dad moves out?” Deke asked.

“Maybe.”

“Jason says he only sees his dad once a week now. He doesn’t like the woman his dad married. He says she’s a bimbo. But he really hates the jerk his mother is dating. The guy sleeps in his mom’s bedroom when he stays over and he hogs the remote.”

They listened to the muffled yelling in the kitchen for a while. Deke hugged the pillow he was holding and fought the tears.

“I’ll tell you one thing, Deke, I don’t think I’ll ever get married. But if I do, I’m sure not gonna have any kids. I’d never do this to my own kids.”

“Me, either,” Deke said.

“No matter what happens,” Thomas said, “you and me, we stick together.”

“Okay,” Deke said.

“The formula is
tailored to your body’s needs,” Alex said. “No two clients get the exact same version of the product. That is because no two people are exactly the same.”

“I understand,” Elissa said.

He opened a cupboard and selected one of the small blue bottles inside. “Also, the formula must be taken under supervision. Close monitoring is essential. That’s why I insist that clients return at least once a week for their supplies.”

She looked at the blue bottle in his hand. “What’s in it?”

“Basically it’s a complex mix of ingredients extracted from several species of seaweed.” He closed the cupboard. “My research shows that most people lack the essential nutrients that are found only in the sea. Remember, our blood is very close to seawater, chemically speaking. Here on land we are often deprived of several substances that are common in the saltwater environments. As a result, we frequently function in a chronic
state of chemically induced stress. Over the years, it takes a toll.”

“I see.”

“My therapy is based upon the principle of restoring the proper levels of certain nutrients and enzymes to the system. Once your body chemistry is back in balance, you will be able to deal with stress much more efficiently.”

“That would be wonderful.” Elissa gripped her purse. “I’m certainly not doing very well as it is.”

Alex walked toward her, blue bottle in hand. “In my professional opinion, it is best to take a two-pronged approach to the problem. In addition to using my formula, I strongly recommend counseling.”

Elissa stiffened. “I really don’t want to talk about my personal life. I can’t discuss it with anyone. I just made this appointment so that I could try your formula.”

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “I don’t insist on the counseling. But it would be unethical of me not to mention the additional beneficial effects. I use a very unique therapeutic style. I call it mirroring. It’s a form of past-life regression therapy. I’ve had amazing results with it.”

He hadn’t changed the basic scam much over the years but he routinely gave it a new name every time he set up shop. He was pleased with the term
mirroring.
He had invented it shortly after arriving in Wing Cove. This town and that architectural monstrosity, Mirror House, had proven to be downright inspirational in many respects. Mostly financial.

“I don’t believe in past lives,” Elissa said uneasily.

“Many people don’t believe in them. Until they start to do the personal research, that is. Events and traumas in our previous lives often induce stress in this life, you see. By exploring your past lives and dealing with the tensions in them you can reduce your current stress levels.”

“Maybe I’ll try it. Someday. May I just have the formula for now, please?”

“Yes. But if you ever feel the need to go deeper, please contact me. I am a trained professional and you can trust me completely to keep anything said between us strictly confidential.”

He gave her his reassuring smile, the one that always made the client trust him, and handed her the bottle. He didn’t really care if she eventually opted for the mirroring treatments. Elissa Kern was too rigid and uptight for his taste. He had no interest in getting her into bed.

“I think you’ll find that you will start to notice some of the beneficial effects almost immediately after the first dose,” he said.

“I hope so.”

“This feels very
bizarre.” Leonora raised the binoculars to her eyes and peered through the lenses. “I’ve never actually spied on anyone before.”

Thomas kept his set of compact, high-powered binoculars trained on the front door of Alex Rhodes’s rented house. The cottage was old and weather-beaten. It was located in an isolated stand of trees nearly a mile from the center of Wing Cove. Rhodes apparently liked his privacy.

“Obviously you’ve led a sheltered life,” Thomas said.

“Obviously.” She swiveled the binoculars. “I assume the big black SUV is Alex’s?”

“Yeah. The guy has a thing for black.”

“What about the little tan compact?”

“Probably belongs to his client,” Thomas said.

“Recognize it?”

“No. Be interesting to see who gets into it, though.”

“I wonder if we could get arrested for this,” Leonora said.

“Watching Rhodes’s house? Doubt it.”

“If we do get picked up, I want you to remember that this was your idea.”

“You were pretty eager to come along, as I recall.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that the way Alex approached me this afternoon was very suspicious. And I certainly didn’t want you coming out here without me. But I don’t see what we’re going to learn by watching his clients come and go.”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“A little,” she admitted. “I’m also cold. This fog is getting thicker by the minute.”

“I warned you this might take some patience.”

“I’m not the patient type.”

Thomas adjusted the focus a hair. “I’ve noticed.”

She paused a beat. “I take it you
are
the patient type?”

“I don’t believe in rushing around unless there’s a really good reason and, in my experience, there rarely is.”

“Hmm.”

She fell silent for a while but he could tell that she was fidgeting.

“It will be dark soon,” she said eventually. “Might be hard to drive home if this fog gets any heavier. How long do you intend to stay out here?”

“Long as it takes.”

She lowered the glasses. “You don’t plan to stay out here all night, do you?”

“You’re free to leave anytime,” he said mildly. “It was your idea to come out here with me.”

She groaned. “I’m whining, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but that’s okay. You’re good at it.” He continued studying the view through the lenses. “I wonder why Rhodes has the shades down on all the windows.”

“The shades?” She raised her binoculars again and aimed them at the house. “You’re right. They are all down, aren’t they? Well, your brother keeps his shades down, too.”

“Yeah, but I think it’s because he’s depressed and he likes to spend a lot of time on his computer. Rhodes didn’t look depressed to me and we know he’s not on the computer because he’s got a client in there. Which leaves one other likely possibility.”

“What’s that?”

He lowered the glasses. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Rhodes was the kind of therapist who sleeps with his female clients.”

“You don’t think much of him, do you?” she said.

“ ‘Never trust a guy who wears yellow contact lenses’ is sort of a Walker family motto.”

She thought about that. “Probably as good as any other family motto.” She broke off suddenly. “There she is.”

“Who?”

“Alex’s client. She just came out the front door. She’s headed for her car.”

“A woman?” He snapped up the binoculars. Tendrils of fog lay heavily in the driveway but there was still enough light left for him to make out the stiff-shouldered, tawny-haired woman getting into the tan compact.

“Elissa Kern,” he said. “Think he’s screwing her?”

“As a highly trained academic librarian, I refuse to leap to conclusions without supporting evidence. But I must admit that scenario would certainly explain the covered windows.”

“Damn. Poor Ed Stovall.”

“The police chief? Why are you feeling sorry for him?”

“Because I got the impression he’s lusting after Elissa in his own anal-retentive way.”

“Oh.” She lowered the glasses. “That would be sad, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s not our problem, luckily. We’ve got our own problems.”

He watched Elissa’s compact disappear into the fog. Then he switched the binoculars back to Alex.

Rhodes waited on the porch until Elissa’s car was gone. Then he turned and went inside the house. Thomas was just about to suggest that it was time to call off the surveillance and start thinking about dinner when the front door opened again.

Rhodes came back out onto the porch, dressed in running clothes and a windbreaker. He locked his front door, went to the porch railing and did some stretches. When he was finished he loped down the steps and set off.

“No wonder he’s in such excellent condition,” Leonora murmured.