Murder and Mischief in the Hamptons

Chapter Eleven

  Over the days following, I healed at a rapid pace and though Cecilia kept making appearances here and there, she attempted nothing untoward. She just stared a lot. At the beginning Gloria chased her off each time she showed up, but after a few days of no excitement, Gloria got to the point of ignoring her.

  Alex on the other hand never made his presence known. I was beginning to wonder where he was. And, if the truth be told, I was missing him just a little bit.

  Hey, I know it's crazy, but when a person, or, in this case, a ghost, becomes your constant companion, you start to miss them when they're not around. I only wished Gloria would give me an opportunity to miss her.

  Construction on the guest house had already begun. Mike had apparently rushed all the permits and necessary paperwork through, because within two days of our dinner, Mike had shown up with all kinds of excavation equipment and machinery.

  Naturally this pleased Pia no end.

  It was also making me happy, since I didn’t intend to stay one day longer in Pia's house than necessary. Not that she wasn't an excellent hostess, because she was, she and Bernard went out of their way to make me feel wanted and at home. It's just that I preferred having my own space.

  Pia was wonderful in allowing me the use of an additional spare room so that I might begin working on my new abstracts and the still life with pears was quickly becoming my favorite. I was thrilled at how it was coming out, far exceeding my expectations for a subject that could easily tend toward the generic (Gloria loved to call it 'mundane'). Aside from a few finishing touches, it was almost ready to show. Pia's excitement at showing it in the gallery told me how much she loved it herself. This was one painting I wasn't sure I could part with. Time would tell, I supposed.

  I had removed the sling, if for no other reason than I was tired of choking myself with it. Besides, the sprain in my arm and wrist caused me little to no pain now and I had barely so much as a twinge from my shoulder. If only the same could be said for my ribs. Thankfully, my new haircut was easy to wash and style, which made life a little easier in the rib department since raising my arms over my head was still a new adventure in pain. Of course, that wasn't stopping me from growing my hair back. Just because I could live with it (had in fact lived because of it), didn't mean that I liked it. I wanted my old hair back. And I dreaded the explanation that I was going to have to come up with given that my parents were intending to visit me over my birthday, which was now only a week away.

  Robert and Pia had spent the last week (possibly more) collaborating on the elaborate party that they were determined to throw and I had been told in no uncertain terms, not only would I be attending, but I was damn well going to have fun.

  So far the only thing that had changed was the venue. They had decided Pia's house was roomier and more conducive to the grand masquerade ball they were still planning. No matter how hard I'd tried, I could not get them to change their minds on that one. I am not one for costumes and frippery. But I guess what I want for my birthday hardly comes into play where Pia is concerned.

  Jase was feeling much the same as me, or so he told me when he received his invitation. Of course I told him he was getting out of it no more than I was. We would suffer together. He seemed surprisingly happy at the prospect.

  I had only a few more days before I was allowed to go back to work, but in the meantime, Pia had set up a home office for me that allowed me to catch up on everything, including scheduling the appointments with the many potential clients that had called during my absence. Turns out, I didn't do so badly at the park. In fact, so far I had garnered more clients than Pia and Simone put together, especially since two of Simone's 'sure things' had already backed out.

  Overall, everything was going swimmingly.

  Which should have worried me.

  I was sitting in the kitchen enjoying a cup of coffee when Alex suddenly popped in.

  "Is she here?"

  "Who? Cecilia?"

  "Of course, Cecilia! Who else would I be looking for? Aretha Franklin?"

  "Is she even dead?"

  "Not that I'm aware of, no."

  "Oh." I continued sipping my coffee.

  "So what have you been doing with yourself?" Alex floated over to the counter and perched on the edge of it.

  "Mostly painting. The doctor finally released me to go back to work next week."

  "Done anything interesting?"

  I assumed he was talking about my painting and said, "Yeah. There's a couple I like. But there's one that's my favorite. It's a still life. It's pretty cool."

  "Can I see it?"

  "Sure. It's upstairs. Float on up there and check it out."

  He pouted. Then changing the subject he said, "They're making a hell of a ruckus over at the guest house."

  "So I've noticed."

  "How long is this supposed to go on?"

  I shrugged. "How should I know? I've never had anything remodeled."

  He frowned. "Well, I hope they hurry up."

  "Disturbing your sleep, are they?" I took my cup to the sink and began rinsing it out.

  "Ghosts don't sleep. You know that."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  His frown deepened. "If you really must know, the problem is- well, I- I miss you."

  "I miss you, too."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really. Why don't you stay over here until they're done?"

  "You know I can't tolerate all this purple. Besides, Cecilia's hanging out over here and I can't stand her even more than I can't stand the purple."

  "What's the deal with you two?" I really never had gotten the whole story behind them. And why they hated each other so much. Of course, given Alex's propensity toward fibs, I still didn't even know how he had really died.

  "It's a long story."

  "It ain't that long, you honky two-timer!" Cecilia made her appearance.

  "Now listen here, I've had about enough of you-!"

  Cecilia marched over to Alex and began poking him in the chest. I mean really poking him. Not her-hand-going-through poking, but actually making contact and nudging him each time she thrust forward. How was she doing that? "I'll tell you who's had enough! Me! I had enough! Enough of yo' lies! Enough of yo' misrepresentation! Enough of yo' tryin' to make yo'self look the hero! And we both know that ain't the truth!"

  Alex sputtered a minute and then fizzled out of the room.

  Cecilia turned to me. "And you! You best not to trust him so far as you can throw him! In fact, you just don't trust him anymore than I trust you and you be doin' all right." Then she followed Alex out of the room. Or into thin air. Whatever you want to call it.

  I sighed and headed upstairs to finish my pear painting.

  Later, after dinner, when we were all sitting around the living room- and by 'we' I mean Pia, Bernard, Jase and myself- Pia brought up the subject of my painting. She was excited to discover that I had finished two of the abstracts and was more than half done with two more. Naturally, she insisted on seeing them. And naturally, Bernard and Jase wanted to see them as well.

  Gloria led the way and was in the room long before we got there. "Don't come in here!" she called out to me. "You do not want to see this!"

  Of course that only led to me hurrying my steps until I was practically running by the time I reached the room. If anyone thought anything strange in my behavior, they said nothing about it.

  "Erk- ack- iiihhh-"

  That's pretty much all I could get out when I saw what had been done to my paintings.

  Two of the abstracts- the unfinished ones- had been spattered all over with various colors of paint. And not in an abstract, artsy kind of way. More in an I-hate-you-and-I-am-going-to-make-your-life-more-miserable-than-you-can-possibly-conceive-of-because-I-am-a-wretched-vengeful-poltergeist kind of way. Quickly, I flipped these two over so they could not be seen. Luckily, I hadn't gotten far enough in their creation that I couldn't start completely over.

  The other two were a
nother story entirely.

  The worst being my still life. Dollar signs had been painted on each and every pear in a variety of colors. I wanted to cry. There was no way I could fix this.

  Bernard and Pia entered the room, with Jase right behind.

  "Well, isn't that interesting?" Pia was the first to speak, taking in my still life.

  "Ack-erk."

  Yep. Still no intelligible speech coming from these lips.

  "What was your inspiration, darling?"

  "Hngggfff."

  "Are you choking on something? You sound like that cat from that penguin comic strip. You know- the one that ran in the eighties."

  "Bill?" Jase offered.

  "No, dear. It wasn't Bill. It had something to do with drugs I think."

  Having had several of my own conversations like this with Pia, I knew it would take awhile, which was just fine by me. I needed the time to recover from my stroke.

  "Drugs? Like, as in marijuana, you mean?" He was baffled.

  She shook her head. "No, that's not it. What was it Sherlock took, love?" This she directed at Bernard.

  "Cocaine?"

  "No, no."

  Jase was starting to catch on. "Opium?"

  "That's it!"

  "There was a comic strip called Opium in the eighties?"

  "No, dear, I think it was called Bloomers or something."

  "Bloomers as in underwear?"

  "No, dear. Anyway, the penguin's name was Opium, I think. Or something close to it."

  "Opus from Bloom County?" For whatever reason, Jase was still invested. Pia will do that to you.

  "Yes! That's it! And his friend, that cat from the science lab- it was, ooh, let me think-"

  "Bill- the- Cat!" Jase's frustration was beginning to show.

  On the other hand, I was starting to breathe again.

  "Yes, that's it. Bill the Cat."

  "And now we're right back where we started."

  "Not at all, dear," Pia argued. "That's not what you said the first time."

  "Erg- ack!" He was starting to sound like me.

  Meanwhile, Bernard was considering my painting from all angles. "I like it. What do you call it?"

  I looked at the painting, now destroyed by a multitude of dollar signs and said the first thing that came to mind. "Still Life with Payers."

  "Oh! I see what you did there!" Pia rejoiced. "I like it! I do!"

  Jase was too busy trying to untangle his brain to offer any opinion.

  "I'd love to buy that one for my office," Bernard proposed.

  "Now, we've already discussed that, dearest! No more purchasing Reid's paintings before I've had an opportunity to show them at the gallery. At this rate she'll never have a showing!"

  "Still, I want it. Put it in the show, but mark it sold."

  Pia frowned. "There's no winning with him."

  Which ought to make life very interesting for the two of them, indeed.

  "You said you had others?" she then asked, a hopeful twinge to her voice.

  "They're not quite ready yet. I can show you those in a few more days."

  She was confused. "But, I thought you said you had two done?"

  "I was wrong," I began steering the men out of the room."Why don't you two go back downstairs. Pia and I will be there in just a moment."

  "Okay," Jase still didn't have the energy to put up a fight and followed docilely along with Bernard.

  As soon as they were out of earshot I began hissing to Pia. "I didn't do this! It was Cecilia!"

  "Whatever are you talking about?"

  "This!" I turned over the other paintings.

  "Oh!"

  "Yes, oh! And this!" I pointed out a symbol that looked a bit phallic on my other abstract. "And the dollar signs, too."

  "Oh, my. We can't possibly show it if it's not entirely your work."

  "That's the least of my concerns right now, Pia. I think you're completely missing the point."

  She nodded. "Yes, of course. We simply must have Olivia over to perform another cleansing for this house. Cecilia mustn't be allowed to destroy all your hard work in such a manner. Although, honestly, dear, I do like the Still Life with Payers. I can't really say it's been destroyed."

  "Maybe not, especially since Bernard wants to buy it. But the others. Pia, they're beyond redemption."

  She looked more closely at them. "You're right, dear, they are. I'll have Olivia over tomorrow."

  Given my last discussion with Olivia, I wasn't all that certain how that would work out.