And Now She's Gone(74)

Only actresses owned this much makeup.

But then, she, too, was an actress. She’d stood at the mirror how many times, with black eyes and swollen, bruised cheeks. She’d spackle all of this shit over her face while Sean, in another room, would ice his knuckles while sipping Jack and Coke. And then they’d go out.

Smiles, everyone!

Not tonight, though.

She’d wear no makeup tonight.





40


Needing to remain alert, Gray decided against drinking alcohol or taking a pill for the twinges now revving near her navel. It had been a long twenty-four hours, and she needed coffee. Strong, black, and sweet, Sean would say, winking at her. Along with her biscuits and Nick’s biscuits, that’s what she’d ordered from the cat-eyed waitress—coffee for her and a glass of ice water for her guest.

She sat facing Post & Beam’s exit. Never have your back to the door, Victor Grayson had told her. That’s a good way to die. Older couples in leisure wear trickled in for high-priced jerk catfish. The long-cooked greens were delicious but cost more than a decent salad anywhere else. Rum banana bread pudding—okay, that was worth the price.

Tea Christopher entered the restaurant right as the server set Gray’s basket of biscuits and butter on the table. Today she wore a purple tracksuit with pink trim and busted high-top Skechers. She smelled of sweat, and that odor walloped the sweet aroma of freshly baked biscuits. She plopped into the chair across from Gray. “Sorry for asking last minute for you to come.”

The server waited to take Tea’s order, but Gray dismissed her with a curt, “That’s all.”

Unlike their first meeting at Sam Jose’s, Gray refused to feed Isabel’s best friend. She didn’t like nourishing liars and cons on her dime, or Nick’s. Let her savor the glass of ice-cold water against her hot, lying tongue.

“How can I help you, Tea?” Gray asked.

“You never told me for sure that you were done with the investigation.” Behind those glasses, Tea’s eyes looked as big as basketballs. “I’ve been texting you, and Isabel told me to get the check and her keys. Both sets.”

“Ah. I’ll let you know.”

“Know … what?”

“About the keys, the check, the investigation being done.”

“She told me that she sent the picture of her tattoo.”

“What about the picture of Kenny G.?”

“But…” Tea canted her head. “But she sent you Ian’s answers to the questions, and she sent you the two other pictures.”

Gray snorted, rolled her eyes, and shook her head, just in case Tea still thought for a moment that Gray sorta believed her. “You really do think I’m stupid.”

Tea gripped the edges of the table. “When will you be finished, Miss Sykes?”

“Once I receive a picture that hasn’t been manipulated to look like your friend is holding a newspaper while standing in the breezeway of the Westin Kauai. Once I receive a freakin’ picture of the man’s dog. Not so hard to understand, is it?” The badger in Gray wanted out, and it clawed at her belly and throat.

Over at the bar, a small man wearing a big Dodgers jersey was leering at Gray as he chewed on a straw. He winked at her and smiled to show off his dimples. Then he looked at his wrist to show off his Rolex.

Bad time, bro. Gray scowled at him. Her mood had turned as black and bitter as the coffee in her cup, the coffee she hadn’t had a chance to sip or sweeten.

“I don’t understand,” Tea said. “The Hawaii picture—”

“The Hawaii picture’s fake,” Gray said, eyebrow lifted.

Tea’s lips and cheeks quivered. “But … but … th-that’s the picture she … she sent. She sent it to me and she sent it to you.”

“You sure you didn’t send it to me?”

Tea’s tear-filled eyes shimmered behind her glasses. “Isabel’s alive, and she just wants you to go away.”

“Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.” She remembered that verse from Psalm 34—Mom Naomi would recite it to her at least twice a week, usually after the old woman had slapped her. For secular flair, Gray added, “By a lie, a man annihilates his dignity as a man.” Victor Grayson had recited Kant to her only once a month.

With a shaky hand, Tea picked up the glass of water. The ice cubes clinked as she sipped.

Gray broke apart a hot biscuit and refused to wince as steam stung her fingers. “Where is she, Tea?” She peered at Tea as she spread honey butter over the biscuit’s perfectly flaky bottom.

Tears tumbled down Tea’s acne-scarred cheeks. “I can’t…”

“Is Isabel Lincoln alive?” Gray bit into the biscuit, not tasting it.

Tea nodded.

“Where is she?”

Tea shook her head.

“I know shit about you that you don’t even know about you. You need to tell me.”

Tea whispered, “I don’t know.”

“Is she hiding at the cabin in Idyllwild?”

Tea’s eyes widened and the muscles over her left temple jumped. Her lips disappeared as though Gray’s words had punched them in.

“See? I know shit. Is she in Idyllwild?”