Intrusion (14 page)

“Mrs. Buckley … Elisabeth. I didn’t expect to see you today.” Her voice was as perky as ever. “I feared that our dull routine had driven you away.” She did a quick appraisal of my outfit without dropping her smile one inch. I was wearing a classic, an olive Chanel pantsuit that contrasted nicely with my hair. Kai had bought it in Paris, along with a Hermes scarf. Even Candy approved of me when I wore it.

I upped the wattage of my smile, picturing Meg Cahill wearing the leather teddy that Tommy had so vividly described in his diary.

“CYBER-MED is fascinating. I have so much to learn that it’s humbling. Was the whole thing your idea, Meg?”

Dr. Cahill lowered her eyes like a penitent. “I had lots of help. So many of my patients had pacemakers and the like that when the technology changed, I saw both a need and a business opportunity.”

I held the door for her when we reached four.

Not everyone succumbs to flattery, but my instincts told me that Meg Cahill just might.

“I’m not very creative,” I said. “That’s my partner Candy’s bailiwick. She’s a genius.”

Meg’s lip curled a bit. “Yes, I can see that. Makeup is a challenging venture.” She gave a little wave and strode toward her office, heels clicking on the limestone floors.

Fortunately, I’m not the violent type. Candy would have sensed the scorn and decked her. I comforted myself by comparing the profit margin at Sweet Nothings with CYBER-MED’s. No contest.

I closed Tommy’s office door, fired up his computer and opened those private files. No need to peruse his black book today. That vicarious trip through his love life would sustain me for months. The other directories looked commonplace. I
scrolled
down his personal calendar, looking for anomalies. He had scheduled daily exercise sessions. No surprise there. Tommy and Kai were both gym rats with the bodies to prove it. My pulse quickened as I saw a notation made one week before his murder. “CC and Giraffe,
KillerStartups
.” What the hell? CC meant only one thing, Cotton Candy, our special name for Candace
Ott
. Giraffe was my much-loathed moniker. It was probably his snide way of mocking us, a jab at Sweet Nothings and all it stood for. I hadn’t seen Tommy at all that week, hadn’t taken his calls. That was a millstone that weighed heavily upon me. Perhaps Candy had the answer

I was deep in thought until a brisk knock ushered in
Arun
Rao
.

“Hi,” he said. “Got a minute?”

His suit was exceedingly well cut, Oxford Clothiers if I was correct. As he took his seat, I noticed square gold cufflinks and a fetching set of dimples.
Rao
was a
hottie
, but Candy was welcome to him. Something just didn’t ring true to me. He was too polished, too schooled in pleasing women.
A mechanized sex toy complete with batteries.

“What brings you here?” I clothed the question in a smile.

He furrowed his brow and spoke softly. “I want to help.” He straightened his cuffs and turned liquid brown eyes on me.
“Tommy’s murderer.
I can help you find him.”

“Why don’t you tell the police? Sergeant Andrews seems very competent. Candy and I aren’t detectives, and neither are you. It might be dangerous.”

Arun
swallowed twice before answering. “I have some skills that might help. Applied and Theoretical Cryptography is my academic discipline, you know.”

 
I threw up my hands. “You’ll have to be more specific,
Arun
. I’ve haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

That drew a big smile. “You sound just like Tommy. He told me that, too.”
Arun
leaned forward, palms on knees. “It’s pretty simple really. I decipher messages. Kind of like the old code-breakers but with computer data. A perfect fit for CYBER-MED, that’s what Dr. Meg always says. Anyhow, I help safeguard our patients’ information.” His sudden frown looked like a thundercloud. “That’s why Lucian Sand is such a lying bastard. Our data isn’t compromised. I wouldn’t allow it. Neither would Rand. He’s studying the same thing.”

My silence spoke volumes.
Rao
abruptly stopped his tirade and wound down.

“What does this have to do with Tommy?”

He tugged his ear. “I’m not sure.
Maybe nothing.
If you find something, anything at all, bring it to me. If I can’t figure it out, I’ll find someone who can.”

I studied him for a minute. “And Dr. Cahill approves of this?”

He hesitated. “Don’t involve Meg. Just bring it to me. She wouldn’t understand. CYBER-MED is her whole world.”

“Why take a risk?” I asked. “After all, the murderer might be right here.”

Rao’s
lips formed a thin line. “Tommy was my only real friend in Boston. He’d take a risk for me. I know that.” With a curt nod, he loped out of the office.

Rao
puzzled me. He seemed earnest enough. On the other hand, his offer of help guaranteed him access to every aspect of Tommy’s murder. That generous offer might also be a very clever ploy by someone who murdered for fun. On that dreadful recording, Tommy had asked the killer why, said that the killer didn’t need the money. Neither
Arun
nor Dr. Meg needed money. According to Candy,
Arun’s
family was very comfortable, and her definition of comfort always involved lots of zeros. Meg and Carter Cahill were obscenely rich, if the Boston financial press was accurate. I gave myself a mental pinch for that display of Socialism. Everything depends on perspective. Some people might call the Buckley Trust obscenely rich. Kai had teased me about it, calling me his Bolshevik.

I spent the balance of the afternoon slogging through the balance sheet for CYBER-MED. It was boring, tedious work that yielded absolutely nothing. Four hours of mind-numbing activity had yielded only one tangible clue. Alas, “CC and Giraffe,
KillerStartups
” meant absolutely nothing to me.

Twelve

My pulse
raced as I rushed home. Candy would be here any minute, armed with her makeup kit and Velcro rollers. I felt sick to my stomach. Maybe it was a touch of flu, but more likely the gut-clenching, mind-blowing realization that I would soon be with a man for the first time in a year. Not just any man, either. Lucian Sand shook me up at a cellular level. He knew things that no stranger should know, touched me as if we were longtime lovers.

I did my yoga routine, forcing myself into abdominal low breathing as Kai’s words echoed in my brain. He had taken me mountain climbing, insisted on it.
Just one time.
I’d begged him to forget it. My nickname’s Giraffe, not Nijinsky. Kai prevailed, as he always had, and one spring weekend we had motored to Jaffrey, New Hampshire, home of Mt.
Monadnock
. We ascended part of the White Cross trail, the easy one. Trouble started during the descent. My terror grew until I froze, paralyzed by fear. Kai reached out his arms to me and spoke softly. “Don’t be afraid, Lizzie Mae. You can do anything. You’re Wonder Woman. Take my hand. I’ll always be here.”

He lied.

Tears streamed down my face, but I didn’t feel them. They cleansed my soul like a gentle rain, renewing my spirit. By the time Candy arrived I was resolute and composed. Tonight’s engagement was a mere blip on life’s radar screen. Lucian Sand was just another man.

Talk about your whirling dervish. Candy swept into my living room, hauling a treasure trove of self-improvement items. My face was a blank canvas, waiting to absorb whatever paint and spackle she applied. That made her suspicious.

“What, no whining about looking like a clown? OK, Betts, spill. How many
Xanax
did you take today?”

“None.
I did yoga and meditated. Tonight is strictly
business
. “

Candy snorted. “Trying selling that to the hot Frenchman you’re dating.”

“I told you, he’s not my date.” Even I knew that sounded lame.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Candy waxed my brows with an expert flick of her wrist.

“Ouch! That hurt.”

“Much better,” she grinned. “At least now I know you’re still alive. By the way,
Arun
called me today.” She dabbed eye cream and moisturizer on me. “He’s going solo to that shindig. Apparently, Dr. Meg demands that they dance attendance on her. Not surprising.”

“Yeah.
Rand’s going, too. Looks like half of CYBER-MED will be there.”

“Quiet now,” Candy ordered. “I can’t do your eyes if you’re babbling.” She proceeded to apply shadow, liner and mascara with dazzling precision. After a puff of powder and a splash of scent, she held up a mirror for me.

“Very nice, Mrs. Buckley.
Although I think you need a new fragrance. This one is too tied up with Kai. You need something young and lively.
French, of course.”

“Forget it.
Fleurissimo
is a classic. If it was good enough for Princess Grace, it’s fine for me, too.”

Candy heaved a gigantic sigh and attacked my hair with her brush. “Thank goodness you have great hair, not that you appreciate it. When was the last time you went to a salon?”

“Hey. I’m not like you. Spas are your mother ship, not mine. By the way, did you contact Mrs. Arthur? I thought that prison thing was today.”

“Tomorrow.
I called her, and the woman was pathetically grateful. Used a lot of psycho-babble, you know the drill.” Candy’s smile verged on sinister. “Don’t worry. I’ll peel her like a grape. After all these years I’m an expert on shrinks. Here, time to drape your sari.” She fingered the exquisite peach silk emblazoned with gold. “Oh, my God, this is so gorgeous. Kai must have spent a fortune on it.”

“I guess. I’ve never worn it.”

“Now, now, don’t get all weepy on me. Stand still while I do this.” After draping, folding and tucking, Candy stood back, surveyed her handiwork and nodded.
“Another miraculous transformation by Candace
Ott
.
Take my word. You’re officially awesome.”

 
She was right. Awesome might be a stretch, but I looked different, unlike the sober lawyer and policy wonk of yore. For once I didn’t fight Candy’s attempt to glamorize me. Tonight I was playing the role of undercover operative. Lucian Sand was a prop, part of the scenery.
Nothing more.

Lucian was punctual. Candy met him at the door, giving him a hug, a low wolf-whistle and a hero’s welcome. I couldn’t fault her judgment: the man was magnificent. He glided into my home, looking like every maiden’s fervent prayer. His tuxedo was traditional, a beautifully tailored Armani with notched satin collar and one-button front. Contrary to the old adage, this man made the clothes, not the other way around. When he turned toward me, I gasped. No more beard! That scruffy face hair had concealed baby smooth cheeks and a fetching chin cleft. His startling teal eyes met mine in a blaze of fire.

“You … you look amazing,” I said. An unaccustomed tingling swept over me, lodging somewhere south of my waistline.

Lucian took my hand, brushing each finger with his lips. “And you, Elisa. You are a vision. As the poem says, you walk in beauty like the night.”

I felt a surge of anger at the Byron reference. Kai had loved that verse. We’d spent many nights holding each other and reading poetry. Now a stranger was intruding on something sacred.

“Oh, my Lord, I feel goose bumps.” Candy saved the day. “You’re a man of many parts, Dr. Sand. Science and the arts are a potent combination.” She put her arm through his and tugged him toward the sofa. “Our Betts is quite the beauty, isn’t she? Who said redheads can’t wear peach?
Nonsense.”

I finally gathered my scattered wits. “We can’t stay, Candy. The dinner starts at nine, and I don’t want to
miss
Chernikova’s
speech.”

Lucian pinned me with an icy stare. “Ah. You are a fan of American imperialism?”

 
When I glared at him, he laughed. So did Candy. Apparently, I was the only one not in on the joke.

“You’re so easy, Betts. Lucian was only teasing.” Candy gave him a playful shove. “That’s the same way Kai and Tommy used to ruffle your feathers. You never learn.”

She was right. How had Lucian figured that out? He must think me a humorless prig.

“Ready, Mrs. Buckley?” He fixed an agate stare on me. Blue lace agate, that’s what his eyes looked like now.
Calming, restorative.
I keep a blue agate on my desk to soothe me. It’s gotten quite a workout since Kai’s death.

“Sure.” I gathered a cashmere wrap, my purse and some attitude. Tonight’s mission concerned Tommy and the scoundrel who murdered him, nothing else. I had no right to flirt and
flutter like
some aimless coquette.

The elevator was packed with Boston’s upper crust, taking in the night air. Lucian stood beside me, resting his hand lightly on my shoulder. It felt good, rather like Della’s stolid presence. For the first time in ages, I didn’t feel lonely and sad.