Buried Evidence (27 page)

Lily glanced at her watch. It was nine-thirty, and she felt odd asking Shana to try to find one of her friends and impose herself on them. Seeing her walking toward them, she whispered to Richard, “I’ll ask her in the car after we leave, then buzz you back and let you know.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Shana asked, stepping up beside them.

“Nothing,” her mother said. “Just the resort.”

“Your mother says you have some friends in this area.” Richard decided to take control. “They tell me Thursday is the innight to go out dancing. Greg comes up here every now and then to surf and visit some of his friends. He claims the clubs are too crowded on Friday and Saturday nights.”

“Are you serious?” Shana asked, tilting her head to one side. “You really want to take my mom and me out dancing?”

Great, Richard thought facetiously. He had talked himself into a corner. “Not exactly,” he said. “I mean, I’d love to take you both dancing one of these days, but that wasn’t my intention. I was trying to suggest that you might want do something with people in your own age group.”

Shana fell silent, her eyes shifting to Lily’s face, then back to Richard’s. “Ronnie came up and stayed with me about a month ago,” she said, popping a mint into her mouth. “I didn’t do much but sit around all day today and worry.”

“Everything is going to be fine.”

“Yeah,” Shana said, shuffling her feet around on the gravel driveway. “I’ve got Ronnie’s phone numbers in my purse, as well as a few other people. I guess I could call around and see if anything’s going on.”

Both Richard and Lily offered her their cell phones at the same exact moment. Shana had intended to pretend she didn’t know what was going on between them, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “People your age are funny,” she said. “I’m the kid, remember? It’s okay. You have every right to tell me to get lost. Where are you staying, Richard?”

“Here,” he said, chagrined at how easily she had figured out the situation, maybe not about his concern for them to stay at the cottage, but his secondary objective, which was to get Lily alone. “It was close to your mother’s place, and I haven’t been here in a long time.”

“So you’re registered under Fowler, right?” Shana asked, winking as she climbed into the driver’s seat of her mother’s car.

“What are you doing?” Lily exclaimed, chasing after her. “I don’t want you to go home alone. Richard was just making a suggestion.”

“I probably know more people in this town than you do, Mom,” Shana said, holding the cell phone up to the window. “I’ll check in with you in about fifteen minutes. I’ll probably spend the night with Ronnie.” Before Lily could stop her, she turned the key in the ignition and sped off.

R
ichard and Lily walked up a fairly steep hill to his bungalow, both of them lost in their thoughts. The valet had offered to take them in a golf cart, but they decided to walk. Each of the bungalows at the ranch had been given a name. “Magnolia, huh?” Lily said, squinting to read the little wooden sign in the dark. “I love magnolia trees.”

“Good,” Richard said. “Then I picked the right place.”

The resort also had wall-mounted slots where they inserted the names of the guests during their stay. That is, if the guest wanted his name displayed. Many people who visited the ranch possessed the type of fame that made them constantly dodge exposure, and recently the owner had required that all employees sign a confidentiality agreement swearing they wouldn’t reveal the names of guests who were either on the property or who had stayed there on previous occasions. The only people they excluded were long-dead notables, whose publicity shots they proudly displayed on the walls. The establishment’s pride was the legendary bungalow John and Jackie Kennedy had stayed in on their honeymoon. They named it the “Kennedy Suite,” while the remainder of the bungalows were named after trees, plants, or flowers.

Richard Fowler might not be a recognizable name throughout the universe, but he had asked that his name not be placed on the door. All he needed was his dish-throwing former girlfriend to come storming into the bungalow.

“I don’t feel right,” Lily said while he was unlocking the door.

“Why?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “Because of Shana?”

“Of course,” she said, hugging her arms around her chest in
the chilly night air. “I don’t want my daughter to know my personal affairs.”

“At least you used the right word.”

“What does that mean?”

Richard stepped inside and flipped on the lights, taking Lily’s hand and pulling her into his arms. “Don’t you think Shana knows we had an affair?” He kissed her on the forehead. “She even called my office pretending to be your secretary years ago, inviting me over for dinner. She wanted to patch things up between us, remember? She doesn’t want you to hide from the world,

Lily.”

His statements hit too close to home; Lily disentangled herself from his arms. “Don’t you understand? I want Shana to feel she can rely on you if this thing with John gets out of hand. Imagine how a girl her age would feel knowing her attorney was sleeping with her mother.”

Richard made a sweeping movement with his arm in the direction of the living room and separate bedroom. “It’s not like I invited you back to a motel room, Lily,” he told her. “This place is almost the same size as your guest house. Shana can come over tomorrow night if you like. We can even have dinner brought in from the restaurant.”

“Tomorrow night?” she said, a puzzled look on her face. “You’re not going back to Ventura after you make your court appearance tomorrow?”

“No,” he said. “I booked this place through Sunday.”

Lily turned around in a small circle, her palm pressed to her forehead. “It’s not that long of a drive, Richard. Don’t tell me you’re going to charge this to your client.”

“You know me better than that,” he said. “Now that you mentioned it, though, maybe I should bill him. This isn’t one of my favorite clients.”

“Henry Middleton, right?”

“God, no,” he said, grimacing. “I’m referring to the drug dealer. The last thing I want to talk about tonight is the Middleton case.”

“What if someone saw us at the restaurant?” Lily asked, concerned
that they might compromise the case. “With everything that’s been happening, I actually forgot you were representing him. I’ll call Shana now and have her pick me up.”

“Stop it, Lily,” he said, so frustrated he wanted to pull his hair out. “I just told you we weren’t going to discuss the Middleton case. We’re not acting in collusion. Can’t we enjoy what’s left of the evening?”

“Whatever,” Lily said, wandering around the bungalow. It appeared to have everything a person could ever need, with the special touches and warmth of a home. There was a dining room table, a kitchen, and lovely but comfortable furnishings in the detached living room, along with dozens of gadgets such as TVs, a video and DVD player, and what appeared to be a high-quality stereo system. Lily stepped through French doors into the bedroom, appreciating the fact that the room could be closed off from the rest of the cottage. Some people liked to sleep in an open space or have one room flow freely into the other. Lily preferred to sleep in a smaller room. If she awoke during the night, she didn’t want to have to stumble around trying to find the bathroom only to end up on the other side of the house.

The bed itself was covered with a green linen comforter. White robes with the resort’s logo emblazoned on the front were folded neatly on each side of the king-size bed, a note indicating that they could be purchased as a souvenir and were not included with the room. On the end tables were cherub candle holders containing vanilla-scented candles. The housekeeping staff must have already performed their evening duties, as the bed was turned down. Placed on an angle at the foot of the bed was a wicker tray containing bath salts, exotic oils, and a small gold box of Godiva chocolates, along with a single white orchid in a china vase.

Glancing at Lily out of the corner of his eye, Richard slipped his jacket off his shoulders, walking into the bedroom to hang it up in the closet. Lily backed into the shadows, marveling at how a man of his height could carry himself with such grace and agility. His footsteps hardly made a sound, and his arms and legs appeared to move in perfect synchronization.

“I have some fabulous wine,” he said, having ordered it in advance. “One of the reasons I didn’t order wine with our dinner is I didn’t want Shana to feel slighted. I know she’s under drinking age.” He looked at her and smiled. “Another reason is this is a special French Bordeaux, bottled in 1984. I was shocked that they even had it when I called. But then, the ranch is renowned for its wine cellar.”

“I’ll pass on the wine, Richard,” she told him. “I’m not interested in drinking right now.”

He uncorked the wine, then poured two glasses. “I understand how you feel about alcohol because of John,” he told her, “but let’s not go overboard. My philosophy has always been that anything is all right if it’s done in moderation. Doctors say a glass of wine now and then is healthy, even good for your circulation.”

Richard was beginning to suspect that his plans of rekindling their romance might fizzle out, and wondered how long it would be before she asked him to drive her home. What a bitch that would be, he thought, turning away so she wouldn’t be able to detect his disappointment.

“Just when I was beginning to feel comfortable in my new position, John had to call me and tell me he’d killed someone.” Lily gazed at him from across the room. Since the rape she had become too conservative, too rigid. When the phone rang, she started to rush over to answer it, then realized that the call might be for Richard.

“Great,” Richard said, turning his back as he listened to the caller. “Do you want to speak to your mother?” He paused, then added, “We haven’t spent much time together over the past six years. We’re just talking about the days when we used to work together in Ventura. You know, the kind of things folks our age do.”

Lily walked over to take the phone from him, but he had already disconnected. “She’s spending the night with her friend.”

“Ronnie?” Lily asked, having met her when she’d attended high school with Shana in Camarillo. Since then Ronnie’s family had relocated to Goleta, an area not far from the university. “Are they going out to one of those dance clubs you mentioned? I
didn’t think that was such a good idea, by the way. This might have been a safe city while you were growing up, Rich, but Santa Barbara has changed. It’s almost like that area they renovated in Miami. What’s it called? South Beach, I believe. I’ve got a case on my desk right now that occurred downtown near State Street where most of the nightclubs are located.”

“Sorry,” Richard said, hanging his head. “She didn’t mention taking me up on my suggestion to go to a dance club, Lily. She just said she was going to crash at her friend’s house, then drive home in the morning.”

Lily rubbed her forehead. “Did you remind her what time she has to be home?”

“From what I saw tonight, Shana is responsible enough to remember what time we’re getting together for breakfast.” He arched an eyebrow, giving her a look that said she was being overprotective and worrisome. “She knows we’re going to try to figure out how we can protect her from being implicated in the accident. Don’t you think this is a meeting she wouldn’t want to miss?”

“You’re right,” Lily said, sitting in an overstuffed chair with a matching ottoman. She leaned her head back against the plush cushion and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Richard was standing over her with a wineglass. She brought it briefly to her lips, then set it down on the end table. Removing her jacket, she tossed it on the opposite chair. Underneath, she was wearing an off-the-shoulder white sweater. She kicked her shoes off, resting her feet on the ottoman.

Richard leaned back against the bar, passed the wineglass under his nose, then took a swallow. The bottle of wine had cost him almost three hundred dollars, and she’d taken one sip, then set it aside as if it were club soda. “No matter how many problems come our way,” he told her, “a person still has to extract some enjoyment from life. If not, what’s the purpose of living?”

“Punishment,” Lily said. “I work, I eat, I sleep, only to get up and do it all over again. I feel like a broken record. I’m certain I’m going to keep spinning around in the same circles until something inside me explodes. It’s not as if it hasn’t happened before.”

“In that respect,” Richard answered, “I’d classify you more along the lines of a hurricane than a broken record.” He was trying his best to set the right mood, wanting desperately to hold her, make love to her, attempt to recapture the magic they had once shared. It wasn’t merely to satisfy his physical desires. Joyce would have gladly engaged in sex with him several times a day if he had encouraged her. The woman had been an eager and accomplished sex partner, but he wasn’t in love with her.

For sex to be sublime and meaningful, Richard believed the participants had to possess an all-consuming desire to not only please their partners but be comfortable enough to allow them to reciprocate. Men were generally eager to accept, whereas many women, especially those raised in strict religious households such as Lily, grew up thinking pleasure was a sin. Before the rape they had been about to embark on what he considered a once-in-a-lifetime relationship. Then everything had come to a screeching halt.

Richard stared at Lily with longing. He wanted to take her to a point that transcended sex, merge with her to the degree that he could not only please her and convince her she was loved, but could manage to reach inside and extract the bitterness and hurt buried deep inside her.

With Lily, although he wasn’t certain if she even discussed the situation with her therapist, the rape had reopened a wound so deep he had not been surprised that she’d killed someone. As a child she had been sexually abused by her grandfather. The night she had removed her father’s shotgun from its dusty resting place in the garage, then driven to Oxnard to gun down Bobby Hernandez, Lily had been attempting to rid the world of two demons—both the man who had raped her and her daughter, as well as the ghost of her long-dead grandfather.