When Darkness Falls(40)

She followed the car rental signs to the lower level. Palm trees stood outside the sliding glass doors. They were stuck right in the middle of the concrete, with only small squares of dirt to grow in. It seemed to be enough, though, for they shot straight toward the night sky. She decided to head to Lydia’s first. No sense in delay. And she didn’t want to spend money on a hotel room for tonight.

? ? ?

The front door slammed. Hot, dry air rushed over Devon. A young man nearly six feet tall strode into the kitchen. His dark hair hung over his forehead on one side and he wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt. He carried a white plastic grocery bag with GELSONS printed across it in bright blue.

Lydia put her hand under the table, hiding the knife. “Did you have enough money?”

“Sure did. I see your friend got here.” He held out his hand for Devon to shake. “Eric Ulmann.”

Devon was struck by the uneasy feeling that he was looking into a mirror. “Devon Somers.”

“Nice to meet you. I hope you like Merlot. Lydia sent me out special once she knew you were coming.”

“I didn’t tell Lydia I was coming.”

Lydia took the wine out of the bag. She kept the knife behind her back and slipped it into the sink when Eric wasn’t looking.

“I had a feeling you’d be here,” she said. She busied herself at the counter, pulling out glasses and digging through the drawer by the sink for a corkscrew.

Eric sat at the table across from Devon. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“That she is,” Devon said.

“She’s told me so much about you.”

“She never mentioned you.”

Lydia cleared away the margaritas and set the bottle and glasses on the table. “Now we can visit.”

Eric poured the wine. “I just met her. If you can call it met. She found me passed out on the beach in Venice. I lost my job a while back, then my house and my car. My life. Lydia’s helping me turn it around. She’s letting me stay here, she bought me clothes, got me a haircut. She’s working on arranging some interviews for me and says I can hang around ‘til I can afford my own place. She’s done this for a lot of people.”

Devon looked at Lydia.

Lydia shrugged. “I enjoy it.”

“How many people do you find like that?” Eric said. “Who enjoy helping others?”

“Not many,” Devon said.

Another time the puzzle of Lydia the philanthropist would have intrigued Devon, but he couldn’t think of it now. Superhuman? Beyond human? During the last five or six years Lydia had become briefly enchanted with a variety of what he thought of as “L.A.” ideas. Crystals, herbal medicine, out-of-body experiences. But this was beyond anything he’d imagined she could come up with. Maybe all this time she’d been heading toward serious mental delusions and he simply hadn’t seen it. But the knife, the wound healing right before his eyes. If that was a delusion, it was his as well as hers. Unless the knife was some sort of prop. This was Hollywood, so he supposed she might know someone who could teach her how to pull off a stunt like that.

Lydia proposed a toast to love and pleasure. They drank. When their glasses were empty, she turned to Eric. “Would you mind giving us a little time, darling? Devon and I have so much to talk about.”

After he’d left, Lydia put her hand on Devon’s thigh. “You must have questions.”

Ignoring the jolt that ran through his body at her touch, Devon stood and walked to the back door. “None. I don’t believe this.”

Lydia moved so quickly he only glimpsed her as he turned toward her. She flew at him, knife in hand, and stabbed his shoulder. The blade sunk in, burning, and she yanked it out again. He howled, pressed his free hand over the cut. Blood gushed through his fingers.

“What the f*ck?”

Lydia licked her lips, staring at the blood. “Wait.”

She returned an instant later not with a First Aid kit, but with a mirror she held so he could see the back of his shoulder. Despite buzzing in his ears and dizziness, Devon lifted his hand and inspected the cut. Already it was closing.

Lydia poured another glass of wine and handed it to him. “So. If you did believe me, what would you ask?”





Chapter Nineteen


Devon put one hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself. “It’s insane.”

Lydia stood a foot or so from him, close enough that he could feel the warmth from her body. “Which part?”

“All of it. You’re a person, like me. A human being. I grew up with you.”

“I changed.”

Play along, Devon thought, though he still found what Lydia was saying incredible. You came out here to figure out what’s going on, maybe you’ll learn something.

Lydia smiled as if she read his thoughts.

“How?” Devon said. “When?”

“A lover did it to me,” Lydia said. “Two years ago. At the time I didn’t exactly thank him, but now I think it’s wonderful.”

“And where is he now?”

“We tired of each other. It was never a great love affair, you know. Mostly convenience.”

“So what exactly did he do? And what did you do to me?”

“I’m not telling you,” Lydia said.