Murder and Mischief in the Hamptons

Chapter Two

  I spent the next two days gloriously ghost-free and being waited on hand and foot by my mother. Alex hadn't deigned to make another appearance, which was unusual. I tried to remember passing even one day without Alex's company (whether I wanted it or not), and came up empty. Alex had always been a daily occurrence. I probably should have been worried.

  Since there wasn't much to do and very little distraction, I had been exceptionally productive in my sketching. (Mom had allowed me my sketch book since that didn't require me to step foot out of the bed.) I already had three designs, one of which- an abstract still life with pears that I was especially excited about- I couldn't wait to get started painting.

  Just as soon as my mother let me out of the bed.

  Honestly, it was like she thought some catastrophe was just awaiting me as soon as I put so much as one toe on the floor. Which, considering how the last few weeks had gone, wasn't really all that preposterous. Still, it was annoying.

  Aside from Jase, I had no other visitors. My mother had told me Pia was holding everyone else at bay. Pia was still feeling a bit guilty about everything that had happened, although she had absolutely no reason to. Was it Pia's fault that Professor Stanley was a nut job? Was it her fault that the professor had decided to make her the focus of his revenge in his vendetta against her prestigious art critic father- a man whom he blamed for destroying his erstwhile career? Was it her fault that in doing so I got caught in the melee? No, it was not. But there was no convincing her otherwise. Even my mother had failed. And that never happens.

  And so it was, that on my third day of enforced rest, I was shocked, surprised and excited when someone knocked at my door. It was too early to be Jase, and much as I might be learning to adore him, I could not object to a little variance in my visitation.

  Gloria announced my visitor by flying into the room and yelling, "Look out! Here he comes!" and then, "Too late!" as the door flew open, bursting through her.

  "Reid! Girlfriend!" Robert came bustling into my room, practically at a dead run- a flouncing, dead run. (I don't know how it's possible either, but trust me, it is.) Robert is one ball of pudgy, proud gay male, filled to the brim with overzealous energy.

  "Robert!" I smiled. It's hard not to when you're talking to Robert, even more so since he was carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers and a gift-wrapped package.

  "My dear, dear girl! You'll never know what I've been through in order to come and visit you today! Pia guards this place better than Fort Knox! I swear she has Doberman in her blood! Or English bulldog," he snickered at his own joke. Pia's father was English and she still maintains a bit of his accent.

  "Robert Whitaker!" Pia's strident tone followed him into the room and she was not far behind. She was obviously fuming when she stormed in, perched on her ever-present stiletto heels. "If you upset that girl, so help me, I'll-!"

  "Now she's gonna get him," Gloria folded her arms over her chest and smiled smugly from where she sat, one leg crossed over the other, bobbing in midair.

  "You'll what? Throw a shoe at me?" he whirled on her and bobbed his head. I swear if his hands hadn't been full he would have performed that god-awful finger snap 'z' thing that I never did understand, even when it was all the rage. "Honey, don’t mess with a determined gay man. As Liza said, 'Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter."

  "That's, 'Don't Rain on My Parade,'" I informed him.

  "So?" he shrugged.

  "You know, Funny Girl?"

  Nothing.

  "That's Barbra Streisand, not Liza Minelli," Pia informed him crossly, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

  "So kick me out of the gay club. I was always more of a Bette fan then Liza or Barbra. The point is, don't stop me now."

  "That's Queen," I said.

  He grinned. "Fitting, right?"

  "What are you doing here? I told you absolutely NO visitors until Tuesday. The girl needs her rest." Pia was not about to let this go.

  "It's all right, Pia," I said. "I've been missing everybody. And honestly, I've been so bored."

  "Well, I could have come in and entertained you at anytime," Gloria offered. As if. "Who was going to stop me?"

  I ignored her.

  Moving over to the bed, Robert bent and kissed me on the forehead. Considering the girth of his middle, this was no easy task. "Dane and I have missed you too, honey. You have no idea how much! Dane wanted to be here, but he simply didn't think he had the stamina to outrun Pia, even in her six-inch heels." Funny to think that Dane, who was in far better physical condition than rotund Robert, lacked the stamina Robert seemed to have in leaps and bounds.

  Pia, as if realizing the battle was lost, finally acquiesced. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "All right, you can stay. But only for five minutes."

  "Twenty."

  "Ten."

  "Twenty-five."

  "You're going the wrong way."

  Robert giggled. "I always have."

  "Don't be disgusting. Fifteen minutes, but not one minute longer. Do you hear me?"

  "Loud and clear, Mrs. Darcy-Stillwell! Ten-four, over and out!" Robert saluted her.

  "Would you like some tea, Pia?" My mother took Pia by the arm and led her from the room.

  Gloria, I noticed, stayed behind. She shrugged. "Whatever Robert has to say has got to be more exciting than listening to Pia and your mother trade recipes."

  "Finally!" Robert dropped down onto the side of the bed causing the mattress to tilt alarmingly. I was a little worried that I might roll out of the bed and crash onto the floor, thereby extending my enforced recuperation, so I quickly readjusted my position.

  "The flowers are beautiful," I prompted. Robert had already forgotten the gifts he was carrying.

  "Oh, yeah," Robert tossed these onto the mattress beside me. "Dane thought you might like them. He has much better taste in things of that nature. He stuck a 'Thank You' card in there somewhere."

  "Really?" I began searching through the abundant blossoms. "'Get Well' I would have understood, but 'Thank You?'"

  "He's absolutely thrilled about Jaques. That man's a genius."

  I had helped Robert and Dane find their new chef when their old one turned out to be a problem for them. A big, flirtatious, home-wrecking, jealousy-causing problem.

  "I'm glad to hear he's working out so well."

  "Oh, he is," Robert nodded enthusiastically. "The way he cooks, it won't be long before Dane starts looking more like me. Anyway, that's not what I'm here for." With that, he shoved the gift-wrapped package at me.

  "What's this?"

  "Well, you see, a little birdie told me that your birthday is just around the corner."

  Robert's 'little birdie' almost always turned out to be Olivia. But for the life of me I couldn't figure how she came upon that information. So I asked.

  "You know Olivia. She says Jean-Luc found out when he talked to your grandfather or great-grandfather, or whoever it was. Steven."

  "Sven."

  "Whatever. Anyway, the way I figure it, she took a looky-loo into Pia's files. She has been spending a lot of time at the gallery lately."

  "She is nosey that way," Gloria was obviously disgruntled. She and Olivia had never been friends.

  "My birthday isn't for another few weeks. Isn't it a little early for giving presents?"

  "Oh, it's not a present, present. It's more along the lines of an offer. I told Dane the flowers were all fine and dandy, but not nearly what we owed you. After all, you are not only solely responsible for keeping my marriage together, but also ultimately responsible for our happiness."

  I thought this was laying it on a little thick. And I really didn't like the thought of being responsible for anyone's happiness. But that was Robert, melodramatic whenever the case called for it. Or didn't.

  "Anyway, you have no idea how thrilled Dane and I are that you managed to survive that ghastly professor's attack. I never did like the man. I always thought there was something squirrelly
about him. I just couldn't put my finger on what it was." He considered this for a moment. "Though I don't think 'homicidal maniac' would have been my first guess. Still, it's lucky for us. Professor Stanley inherits a jail cell and we inherit his chef. Everyone's a winner! Now, about his maid…"

  "You're looking for a maid now?"

  "Not necessarily now, Dane feels like we should each pitch in and share the load, so to speak. But you know how particular he can be. (I did not.) He's so fussy about everything. There's only one way to do a job, and his is the right way. I'm much more easygoing. I prefer taking shortcuts whenever possible and that just won't do with Dane. Anyway, work keeps us so busy, that it hardly leaves us any time to relax. All work and no play makes Robert a dull boy. And now Dane wants me to go to the gym-"

  Gloria practically tipped over laughing at this.

  "The gym?!" I was having a hard time imagining Robert working out.

  "I know, right? Sweating to the Oldies is not for me. Now I don't mind the thought of hanging out and ogling all those muscle bound bodies swaddled in spandex, but this body wasn't made for spandex."

  No kidding.

  "While the thought of seeing Robert's rolls stuffed into spandex like so much sausage in a casing makes me want to vomit," Gloria was saying, "the prospect of ogling the hotties at the gym makes me wish Pia went. You don't suppose you could talk her into joining with Robert?"

  I had no intention of doing any such thing, so once again, I ignored her.

  "Anyway," Robert made a little flourish with his hand, "Dane says he's not concerned so much about my physique, as he is my heart. He wants me heart healthy and all that jazz. I'm thinking a box of Cheerios ought to take care of that. At least, that's what the commercials say."

  I had no doubt the Cheerios would surrender. Of course I didn't say that.

  "So, are you going to open your gift or what? Dane and I are dying to know what you think!"

  "Think about what?" That was as far as I got, before Pia came stalking back into the room and interrupted.

  "Time's up! Out you go, Robert! O-u-t, out! Before I sic the dogs on you!"

  "You don’t have any dogs," he told her even as he pushed off the bed.

  I suddenly had visions of the mattress springing back into its former thickness and flinging me into the ceiling.

  "Then I'll get some. Big ones! Just for you!" Pia was now pushing him. Ineffectual considering the immense difference in their sizes, but still, it was working.

  "Goodbye, Reid!" Robert fluttered his fingers at me in a little wave and then disappeared down the hallway. I could hear the two arguing all the way through the living room and out the front door.

  "So, what's with the present?" my mother asked me.

  "Yeah, open it!" Gloria chimed in. Apparently Pia hadn't made it far enough away yet to tug Gloria along with her. I had seen it happen once, when Pia was driven away in a car being piloted by Olivia. One minute Gloria was standing there and the next she was yanked away as if someone were pulling her on a rope. Since Pia was currently being propelled only by heel-toe express I doubted the ejection would be that violent. Still, there was a small part of me that wished Pia would jump in the car…

  "The present, dear?" my mother prodded.

  I gave her the same explanation Robert had given me, ending with, "Although I'm almost afraid to open it. When it comes to Robert, you never know what's inside." Somewhere during that time Gloria had vanished.

  My mother's eyebrows rose. "There is that."

  Carefully, half-expecting those springy, cloth-snake things that like to hang out in peanut brittle cans to come shooting out at me, I slid off the ribbon and opened the paper. Inside the box I found a bejeweled tiara, along with what looked like another card. It was made out of heavy cardstock and was covered in elaborate print. Quickly, I scanned the words and then passed it to my mother.

  Masquerade ball! Please join us as we celebrate Reid Larson's birthday! Following this was the location information and a number to R.S.V.P.

  "Masquerade ball?" my mother queried.

  I held up the tiara.

  "Ah. So you're supposed to be the queen of the ball?"

  Remembering Robert's penchant towards queendom, I commented, "I think I'm meant to be the princess."

  "Rich, white girls always think they're princesses. And now I'm stuck with one. Well, don't that just figure!"

  The voice was entirely unfamiliar to me and I quickly scanned the room to see where it was coming from. At first I saw nothing, but then a figure slowly started to emerge. Whoever she was, I was certain I had never laid eyes on her before. But as she became clearer, I began to realize, this must be Olivia's 'Cicily.'

  And all this time I'd thought she'd been talking about Alex.