The Charmers: A Novel(34)

He glared at me like it was my fault; that deep penetrating look that earlier I had taken as interest, or lust, or love at first sight, something along those lines. Obviously this was not the case.

“Nothing could have happened to her,” I said. “I mean, look at this place, there’s enough armed guards to stop a tank attack. And a girl doesn’t just get lost at a grand party like this.”

“Well, it seems this girl has gone missing at this grand party, and I’m going to ask the man in charge about it.”

I grabbed his arm. “You think something has happened to Verity? But why should anything happen to her?”

He shook his head. “Mirabella, your own Aunt Jolly was murdered, almost next door, in your Villa Romantica, and you are asking why I am worried that Verity disappeared from the party? I come from a different world. I see danger behind me, in front of me, over my head, everywhere I go. I’ve learned to trust my gut when I feel something’s wrong and that’s probably why I’m alive today. And trust me when I say something is wrong here.”

I thought of Aunt Jolly’s still-unexplained and violent death, of my lovely, unworldly aunt, who in fact was so like Verity in her nature they might have been related. Aunt Jolly had been killed. A violent attacker was still on the loose. The Colonel, who I could see across the yard, smart in what must be some kind of dress uniform and attractive as all get-out and didn’t he know it, was chatting up a group of women who seemed attached to his every word. Even he had failed to find the killer.

Beyond the magic circle of light around the villa, the hills loomed dark. Not a light shone past our enchanted surroundings. The sheer blackness was foreboding and I shivered. Anybody might be out there, watching.

I saw Chad prowling the edges of the party crowd. The music played on, ice tinkled in glasses, laughter rang out, chatter and gossip, women admiring each other’s dresses, stilettos dangling from their hands, bare feet cool on the grass. Everything looked normal.

I hurried across the lawn to where the Colonel stood in his merry group of admirers, grabbed his arm, and said, “I need you.”

The women glanced at each other, smiling at my forwardness, my deliberate cutting out of anyone else. “Bitch,” I heard someone mutter as with my hand still on his arm, I dragged him to a quieter place, beyond the reach of the music and the banter and the drinkers.

“It’s Verity,” I said. “Verity, you remember?”

He nodded. “How could I forget?”

Of course, he had been one of the first there, in the canyon, after the accident. “She’s gone,” I said. “Disappeared. Just went into the house and then … gone.”

“I imagine she went to the restroom.” The Colonel spoke mildly, at the same time removing my hand from his coat sleeve.

“You don’t understand.” I was panicking now. “Verity is not here. Chad went looking for her. She’s nowhere to be found. We saw her go into the house half an hour ago. She never came out.”

“But we are in the garden at the back of the house,” the Colonel explained, exasperated. He obviously thought women like me got endlessly into trouble. “Does it not occur to you she might have left of her own accord by the front door, which I assume is the way she came in?”

“And does it not occur to you that my aunt was murdered almost next door, by person or persons as yet unknown? Is it that there’s a curse on the Villa Romantica, Colonel? Do you believe in mumbo jumbo like that? Well, I can tell you, I for one, do not. Unless Chad is able to find her, we have to believe somebody took Verity, some madman…”

The Colonel put a calming hand on my shoulder. “You are jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Why would anybody want to ‘take’ Verity as you put it? She’s simply a guest, and I’m betting she’d had a little too much to drink and decided bed was the place for her. Someone would have driven her home.”

“How can you say that? How can you just stand there and not do something?”

The Colonel’s eyes were suddenly unsmiling. “Tell me why you think anything should have happened to her.”

I stared back at him, wondering why I should. But Chad was uneasy too; he’d felt something was wrong.

“Gut instinct,” I said.

Our eyes linked for a second. “I’ve always been a believer in that.” The Colonel took my hand in its silver crochet glove, with the large sapphire on the right middle finger. His hand was warm, strong, comforting.

“Let’s go find her,” he said.





26

The Boss

At the edge of the party crowd the Boss observed the sudden whispering, the hands across mouths as the story of the missing girl spread from woman to woman. The men seemed unconcerned, still busy with men-talk: golf and boats, cars and the stock market. So, Verity’s disappearance had been noted. Time now for him to take over, to become the crusader, the man intent on finding the lost girl, the man who would become her savior. Even if ultimately it did prove too late to find her alive.

The fact was, it had not been Verity that had been his original target. It was the elusive Mirabella, who had escaped twice already, and now another time. Of course Verity was a lovely substitute. Such a nice young woman, still a girl really, all blond bounciness and wide smile and those amazing round boobs that were unmissable—her greatest asset in fact, and one he appreciated. He was about to let her know that. The thought of the sharp point of his knife between Verity’s breasts excited him and he stepped quickly behind the bar to hide the evidence. He was a well-endowed man, as many women had told him. Which was fine, in the right place at the right time. In public it was not correct and he would be taken as a pervert.