“I’m Bonnie Truax and these two belong to me. I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Bonnie apologized.
“Not a problem,” Singleton said. “Always glad to have a little foot traffic through the place.” He looked at Zoe. “You’re the client, aren’t you? The one whose name didn’t get into the papers.”
“This is Zoe Luce,” Ethan said. “Zoe, Singleton Cobb.”
Singleton grinned. “You’re the client.”
“I’m the client, all right.” Zoe made a face. “And I’ve got the bill for services rendered by Truax Investigations to prove it. Do you have any idea how much it costs to bribe people these days?”
“Clients.” Ethan shook his head. “They always complain when it comes time to settle the account.” He signaled to Jeff and Theo. “Let’s go, boys. We’ve got things to do, and I’m getting hungry.”
“We gotta leave now,” Jeff said to Singleton. “But we can come back some other time.”
“Sounds good to me,” Singleton said easily.
“Would you show me some of your computer games next time?” Theo asked. “I could bring you some of Mom’s cookies.”
Singleton glanced at Bonnie. “It’s a deal.”
Outside on the street, they all piled into Ethan’s SUV. There was still enough late afternoon light left for Zoe to see that Bonnie’s cheeks were slightly flushed.
Jeff and Theo chattered about their new acquaintance and speculated on whether or not he owned a motorcycle. Bonnie was quiet for a long time.
“An interesting man,” she said eventually. “Not quite what you’d expect.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nightwinds stood silhouetted in all its flamboyant pink glory against a scorching sunset. Ethan had a few second thoughts as he halted the SUV in the drive. Maybe this wasn’t going to prove to be one of his more brilliant schemes, after all.
The original concept had been simple and straightforward. Encouraging Zoe to pay her bill by redecorating a room in his house had struck him as a particularly crafty maneuver that would allow him to continue some kind of relationship. But what if she concluded that he had incredibly bad taste?
“Let us go inside first,” Jeff said with an improbably innocent air. “We can turn on the lights for you.”
“Yeah,” Theo said. “We know where the light switches are.”
“Go for it.” Ethan tossed the keys to Theo.
Zoe watched the boys race forward to open the grand door.
“I’m being set up, aren’t I?” she said.
“They’re going to be awfully disappointed if you don’t fall down and twitch,” Bonnie said.
“I suppose I could twitch a little bit,” Zoe said.
Jeff and Theo got the front door open. Both boys disappeared into the foyer. Lights came on inside.
Ethan watched Zoe approach the threshold. It seemed to him that she hesitated for a split second as though bracing herself. Maybe she had decided to put on an act for Jeff and Theo. Or maybe he was imagining things.
Then he remembered how she had paused briefly before walking into his office the first time. Maybe it was just the way she was about entering a room. Probably a decorator thing.
She disappeared into the glowing pink interior.
He walked into the hall behind her and saw her turn in a slow circle, surveying every ornate, gilded, pink detail.
“This is amazing.” She sounded awed.
Bonnie laughed. “Pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
“Incredible is right.” Zoe moved slowly toward the living room. “I can just imagine an elegant late-1940s party here. All those fabulous clothes and the old cars parked in the drive. What a scene it must have been.”
Jeff watched her closely. “Are you going to collapse, Ms. Luce?”
“I don’t think so,” Zoe said apologetically.
Theo looked disappointed. “You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure,” she said.
Ethan chuckled. “So much for this evening’s entertainment.”
“Maybe she’ll start to twitch when she sees some of the other rooms,” Theo said, still hopeful.
Bonnie looked at Zoe. “Ignore them.”
“Come on into the living room,” Jeff said eagerly. “There’s a picture of Mrs. Foote over the fireplace.”
Obediently they trooped into the living room. Bonnie fell into step beside Zoe.
“The story is that the tycoon who built this place, Abner Bennett Foote, was absolutely devoted to Camelia. She was about thirty-five years younger than he was. He showered her with jewelry and furs. After her death he never remarried.”
They all came to a halt in front of the portrait. Zoe studied the glamorous woman in the beaded, pink satin evening gown for a long time.
“She was very beautiful,” she said finally.
“Yes, she was,” Bonnie agreed.
Personally, Ethan thought Camelia looked like trouble. He had a hunch she was the kind of woman who had used her beauty to manipulate others, especially men. But what did he know? A guy who had been married and divorced as often as he had was probably not a good judge.
“Of course,” Zoe said, “It doesn’t hurt that she’s literally dripping in diamonds.”
“True,” Bonnie agreed. “Good jewelry always adds a certain something.”
“Who cares about her jewels,” Theo said. “Let’s go see the movie theater.”
“Yeah, that’s the best place in the whole house,” Jeff said. “It’s got a big-screen TV and a popcorn machine.”
The boys dashed off down an arcaded hall. Zoe and Bonnie dutifully followed. Ethan hung back, trying to gauge Zoe’s reaction.
So far, so good, he thought. At least she did not seem disdainful. If anything, she looked intrigued. Perhaps she viewed his new home as a decorating challenge.
When they reached the theater, Jeff and Theo tugged on the heavy, curving brass handles of the twin doors.
Zoe examined the elaborate entrance with its orchid-pink panels and gilt trim. “Breathtaking. I don’t even want to think about what it would cost to reproduce that workmanship today.”
“I told Ethan he couldn’t possibly afford to restore this place,” Bonnie said. “Just keeping it from further deterioration will be difficult enough.”
“Look, there’s a curtain to keep out the light if the door is opened while the move is playing.” Jeff hurried into the theater. “And it connects to this curtain over here. If you go through that opening, you’re inside the little snack bar.”
“Foote probably had it installed to serve the guests drinks and hors d’oeuvres while they watched the film,” Ethan explained. He halted beside Zoe, who had made no move to enter the interior of the theater. “There’s a carved pink marble counter. The bartender could come and go through his section of the curtain without letting any light into the seating area.”
“I see,” Zoe said. “Fascinating.”
Her enthusiasm had definitely dimmed, Ethan noticed. Her smile was polite but no longer warm. There was a marked tension in her shoulders. She was no longer having fun.
Jeff held aside one of the velvet curtains to reveal the rows of gilded seats.
“There’s another curtain over the old movie screen,” he explained to Zoe. “Uncle Victor put the big TV in front of it, see?”
“Yes, I see it.” She looked into the theater, but she did not enter it. “Pretty cool.”
“ ’Specially when we make popcorn,” Theo told her.
“I’m impressed,” Zoe said.
Ethan checked his watch. “Let’s go take a look at the bedroom you’re going to redo for me, Zoe.”
Jeff barreled back out of the theater. “This way, Ms. Luce.”
Zoe turned away from the theater doorway with what looked suspiciously like relief.
Not exactly twitching, Ethan concluded, but almost.
At the door of his pink-and-gilt bedroom, Zoe halted a second time. But then she walked casually into the space and surveyed wi
th unmistakable amusement the huge gilded-swan bed, the lush rose-pink walls, and the orchid-print carpeting.
When she turned, Ethan was relieved to see the genuine laughter in her eyes.
“Oh, my,” she chuckled. “It takes a very secure man to sleep in a room like this.”
Ethan lounged in the doorway. “It’s got the best view of the canyon.”
“Between you and me, Zoe, I think it looks like the boudoir of a very high-priced courtesan,” Bonnie remarked.
“What’s a courtesan, Mom?” Jeff asked.
“Time for pizza,” Ethan announced.
Could have been worse, Zoe thought. She had been dreading the bedroom, but it was the theater that had taken her by surprise. Fortunately, whatever had happened in that space had occurred a long time ago. The violence and passion locked into the walls was subdued and muted now. She could have handled it if necessary, but she was glad that it was not the room Ethan wanted her to redesign.
The dinner of pizza and salad was no doubt a routine outing for Jeff, Theo, Ethan, and Bonnie, but it had been a special treat for her. She had actually felt normal for a time, as if she was living a real life again.
When the meal was finished, they all walked outside into the balmy night. Fountain Square was festively lit. People strolled among the colorful fountains, coming and going from the other restaurants.
Jeff and Theo wanted to check out a video arcade. Ethan good-naturedly agreed.
Bonnie and Zoe sat on a bench and watched the three males weave a path among the splashing fountains.
Jeff and Theo bounced around Ethan, circling and darting here and there but always returning to his side. They reminded Zoe of a couple of small, eager wolf pups hanging out with the indulgent leader of the pack.
“This may not be any of my business,” Bonnie said after a while, “but I have to tell you that I’m delighted that Ethan asked you to join us tonight.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t remember when I’ve had such a good time,” Zoe said with absolute honesty. “This evening was a real break for me.”
Bonnie laughed. “I’ll take that with a grain of salt. I can’t imagine that eating pizza in a noisy restaurant with a couple of chatty little boys qualifies as a good time for anyone with any serious alternatives.”
“Jeff and Theo are terrific.”
“Thanks. Sorry about the accident with the pizza sauce. Are you sure you won’t let me pay the dry cleaning bill?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That pizza was delicious. Well worth the cost of sending the skirt to the dry cleaners.”
Zoe watched the two boys drag Ethan into the video arcade. A wistful feeling slipped through her. In her other life she had known what it was to be part of a family, at least until her freshman year in college when she had lost her parents in a car crash.
After the tragedy, the knowledge that she was utterly alone in the world had been devastating. She had fought the twin demons of depression and anxiety and sought refuge in her studies.
She had emerged from college with a master’s degree in fine arts and something else, a kind of sixth sense that she would just as soon have done without.
She had always known that she frequently felt strong emotions in certain houses and rooms. But for the most part, the sensations were very weak and not particularly disturbing. She had accepted them as normal, and perhaps at a low level they were. After all, a lot of people talked about experiencing a sense of déjà vu or some other unsettling feeling when they first entered a certain house or room.
But during those lonely years in college when she had gone inside herself for long periods of time, her reactions to various interiors grew noticeably more acute. Her single trip to Europe, a gift to herself to celebrate her first full year of gainful employment at a museum, had turned into a nightmare. After touring three ancient castles with blood-drenched histories in two days, she had felt so grim and chilled that she thought she had come down with an exotic disease. The following morning she had booked a flight home, borrowing heavily on her credit card to pay the full fare in coach.
She had finally been forced to conclude that, whatever it was she experienced when she walked into a room where violence or some other dark, intense emotion had soaked into the walls, the sensation could no longer be classified as normal.
By the time she met Preston, she had become very adept at concealing her special sense. She had also taught herself a few simple precautions. She always paused before entering a room to make certain she would not be overwhelmed with unwelcome sensations. And, until she met Arcadia, she never, ever told anyone the full truth about her sensitivity, not even Preston.
Preston Cleland had been a kind, caring man who would have tried hard to understand and accept her for what she was: a freak. But his nature had been gentle and scholarly, and she had known, deep down, that it would not have been right to burden him with the knowledge that he had married a woman who sensed things in the walls. She realized that while he would have continued to love her with all his heart, he never would have been able to look at her in the same way again. She had not been able to deal with the thought of seeing pity and concern and anxiety in his eyes.
Preston had had enough problems dealing with his ruthless cousin and the other members of his greedy, avaricious family.
“You know,” Bonnie said, lowering her voice to a confidential tone, “this is the first time Ethan has invited a woman out for an evening with the boys and me since his last wife left him.”
“Mmm.” Zoe kept her response as noncommittal as humanly possible.
Bonnie frowned. “Ethan did tell you that he was divorced, didn’t he?”
Zoe cleared her throat. “I believe he mentioned that he’d been married and divorced several times.”
“Several is a gross overstatement.”
“I think he specified that there had been three marriages and three divorces,” Zoe said carefully.
“Three doesn’t qualify as several.”
Zoe nodded politely and said nothing.
Bonnie threw up her hands. “Okay, okay, I know what you’re thinking. In your shoes, I would come to the same conclusion. On the surface of it, three trips to the altar and the divorce courts does seem to indicate a certain inability to commit. But Ethan is different.”
“Bonnie, it’s all right. Please don’t feel you have to defend him. Ethan and I don’t have what you’d call a serious relationship. We hardly know each other. I’m just another client.”
“Whatever else you are,” Bonnie said, “you are not just another client. If you were, he would not have invited you to have pizza with us tonight. Ethan is very big on keeping his professional life separate from his private life.”
“I see.” Zoe couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“The thing is, Ethan has simply been very unlucky in love.” Bonnie held up three fingers. “He married Stacy when he was twenty-two. She was only nineteen. They were both too young. Stacy was coming out of a very chaotic, very dysfunctional home life. She was searching for something solid, and Ethan fell into the trap of playing the knight in shining armor.”
“What happened?”
“After about a year, Stacy announced that she was leaving Ethan to follow a, uh, religious vocation.”
“Good grief, she became a nun?”
“Not exactly,” Bonnie said dryly. “She joined a small, very strict, very fringe religious group.”
“A cult.”
Bonnie nodded. “I’m afraid so. They got a divorce and got on with their lives. Then, just after Ethan opened his own security agency, he met Devon. It was another serious mistake.”
“Why?”
“Devon fell for Ethan because she had a thing for men who have macho jobs. When she found out that most of his work was done behind a desk, on the phone, or with a computer, she left him to marry a professional race car driver.”
“Bonnie, I really don’t—”
“Kelly, wife number three, cam
e along after he had established his business and was making a lot of money. They did fine as long as he was financially successful. But she couldn’t handle the bankruptcy.”
“I didn’t know about the bankruptcy,” Zoe said.
“It was the direct result of a high-profile murder investigation,” Bonnie clasped her hands together in her lap and kept her attention on the waters of a nearby fountain. “Certain powerful people in L.A. did not like what happened when he identified the killer and exposed the financial maneuvers that had led to the murder. When it was all over, they made certain that Ethan paid a price for making them take some heavy losses.”
“Who got killed?”
“My husband, Drew,” Bonnie whispered.
It clicked. Zoe went still. “His brother?”
Bonnie nodded. “Yes.”
“So, that’s why the children’s father isn’t here. I wondered. Oh, Bonnie, I am so very sorry.”
“Drew was murdered three years ago come November. It took Ethan months to find the killer and the man who had hired him. Just before the trial started, the contract killer, who was out on bail, was shot dead by person or persons unknown.”
“The logical assumption being that his employer decided to get rid of him so that he could not testify?”
“Yes. But there was no proof. The trial went on for weeks but in the end Simon Wendover, the man responsible for Drew’s death, walked out of the courtroom a free man. The only consolation was that his illegal business activities had been so thoroughly exposed by the media that a large portion of his financial empire fell apart.”
Zoe tightened her hands around the edge of the bench on either side of her knees. “Sometimes a financial blow is the only justice you can get.”
“Yes. It’s not enough.”
“No,” Zoe agreed softly. “Not nearly enough.”
“In any event, the wealthy men who suffered some of the collateral damage due to the destruction of Wendover’s empire felt that Ethan should be taught a lesson. Together they had the power to force Truax Security into bankruptcy. It took a little over a year to destroy everything Ethan had built in ten years. He went down with his ship.”