“Hey, don’t get yourself tied in knots over who we were when we met.” Jack cups my cheek and shakes his head ruefully. “It’s who we are now that matters. My friends love you. You made a good impression, so now you’ll have the confidence to move into my business circle.”
I want to say, I don’t need confidence. I’m an actor. I can play the part he wants me to play, but it won’t really be me—will it?
We come to the end of the block, and I see the Fifth Avenue street sign. It’s like stepping into another world. High-end fashion stores line the sidewalk. I feel so tiny as I stare up at the skyscrapers that seem to lean in toward the street. They dominate the entire landscape. As we walk along Fifth Avenue, tall light-gray buildings line each side of the street. The aroma of fresh coffee leaks from the cafés mixed with hot dogs from the vendors’ carts. It’s noisy, with vehicles moving up and down packed together, snake-like, as they crawl along the blacktop. Horns honk and street vendors raise their voices to sell their wares. Bright-yellow cabs, buses, and riders on bicycles weave in and out of the traffic. There are so many people rushing in every direction. I cling to Jack’s arm as he strides along in absolute confidence, head held high. I believe his attitude was one of the things that attracted me to him in the first place.
We arrive at Saks. It has an impressive façade that appears as if it’s draped in long, wide purple ribbons. A doorman greets us, and we step into Aladdin’s cave. Jack leads me through the store and the scent of perfume envelops me in a miasma of fragrances, not one stronger than another. I’m mesmerized by the lavish interior and wish I had the time to explore. It’s as if Jack is on a mission as he leads me through the different departments. He knows where he’s going, and soon we arrive at a women’s designer fashion area.
A woman wearing a neat, tailored cream suit glides out to greet us with another close behind. They speak to Jack, not me, about what I require and then guide us to a private shopping area. Jack sits in a gold velvet chair as, shellshocked, I stare at the chandeliers spreading a soft light over the cream carpet. Racks of clothes are set in alcoves under the designer names. The magnificence of the place is daunting. I’m a fish out of water, and as the assistant stands looking at me, hands folded infront of her and with an expectant expression, my nerve almost deserts me.
I glance at Jack, who is staring at me, supremely confident as usual. I can’t let him down. He’s known here and has a good reputation. I inhale and decide to play my best role ever. I lift my chin and act as if I own the place. I indicate to a designer I admire, and we head in that direction. “I need everything. My wardrobe hasn’t arrived from LA, and I’m stuck here without a thing.”
Both women exchange glances, and I smile at them. “New York fashion is so different from LA. I’m sure you’ll be able to guide me.”
“Of course.” The oldest of the two removes dresses from a rack and holds them up for me.
I touch the fabric, and it runs through my fingers like silk. There is no price tag. I assume if you need to ask the price, you shouldn’t be in the store. I nod and give them my size. “Yes, I like that one, but I have many dinner parties both day and evening to attend. I’ll need everything, as I said, from gowns to shoes and accessories. Bring me anything you consider suitable.” I can almost see the commission dollar signs flash in their eyes. I play the performance of my life and try on outfits and display them to Jack as if I do this all the time. I see his eyes light up as he nods his approval. I can’t believe it; acting the part of the rich and famous is even fooling him. Maybe he’s seeing his beloved Laura in me, and the thought chills me to the bone.
“I like this one.” Jack stands and points out a black dress, with a low backline. “Try this on next.”
In the changing room, I stare at my reflection and my blood runs cold. I press both hands on the mirror, trying to breathe. I’ve seen this dress before in the pictures taken on the yacht. The dress is exactly the same as the one Laura wore the night she died.
TWENTY-THREE
WEDNESDAY
This morning, I spent time with the children, getting them ready for school. I enjoy every second with them and the chatter is uplifting. After sending them off with Jenny, I walk Jack to his Porsche and kiss him goodbye. I have many things on my mind. The inconsistencies in the stories about Laura’s death are starting to niggle at me. I wonder who is telling me the truth and who is gaslighting me. If I am to believe Jack and Ruby, I must consider that the information about the weather is incorrect, or perhaps it didn’t rain where they were at the time. I’ve known it to rain on one side of the street and not the other, so anything is possible. Inside I want to believe my husband and his personal assistant. I can find no reason why Ruby would lie to me about the weather when she has been so forthcoming about her affair with Tom.
I make my way to the kitchen and find Sue loading the dishwasher. “Morning, Sue. I’ll just grab a mug of coffee and then I’m going to work on my plans for the new bedroom.”
“That will be exciting.” Sue smiles at me over one shoulder. “I can’t wait to see it.”
I take down a mug and pour myself a coffee. “Me either. I’m sorry to be harping on Laura again, but do you recall who told you about the accident?”
“Ruby.” Sue raises her eyebrows as she looks at me. “She was standing right there where you are now. When she returned home with Mr. Hunter, they were both exhausted from being awake all night.”
I stir cream and sugar into my mug. “How did they look? Were they wet or dry?”
“They resembled a pair of drowned rats.” Sue shook her head. “Both of them had wet hair and their shoes were soaked through. I suppose that’s not surprising considering there was a storm that night.”
I nod. “So did they mention a storm?”
“Yes, they both believed that’s how Laura got tossed overboard.” Sue’s eyes narrow. “Have you heard something to the contrary?”
I straighten and smile. “No, I know about the storm. It’s a huge yacht so people can easily move around without being seen. I know Laura left the others to get some fresh air, and she was seen by Ruby and Tom. The thing is, I’m surprised they were on deck during a storm. From the weather report it was bad with high waves and, if Laura fell overboard, I doubt anyone heard her scream. If it was a bad storm, as the reports say, I couldn’t see her lasting long in that swell. I’m just surprised her body didn’t show.”
“The Coast Guard searched for a full week.” Sue swallows hard. “Likely a shark ate her. They didn’t find so much as a shoe.”
Head spinning with the conflicting stories, I sip my coffee. I must keep my composure although inside my stomach is twisting. So many different versions that I can’t keep my head straight. I need to get away and think. I stand slowly. “That’sawful.” I frown. “I’d better get a start on these ideas. Ruby will have the architect here before I’m finished.” I smile as I leave the kitchen and carry my mug up the stairs.
As I climb the stairs, I’m acutely aware of Laura’s eyes following me from the portrait. The uneasy feeling remains as I make my way to my room. Even in the daytime the hallway is still dimly lit and, as I walk, the hair on the back of my neck stiffens. I stop and look around. I’m sure someone is watching me. A loud bang comes close by. It frightens the heck out of me and I spill hot coffee over my fingers. Heart pounding, I lean against the wall, scanning the hallway. As I turn, one of the bedroom doors moves and a sliver of light cuts across the hall carpet. I’m frozen in place, staring at the door, but nobody emerges and everything is eerily silent.
No one should be here. The rooms along this hallway are furnished for guests but the furniture is covered. I can think of no reason why light would be coming from that room. When I looked inside just yesterday, the blinds were shut tight. The door creaks and moves again, sending more light into the hallway. Panic grips me but I listen, trying to hear over the pounding in my ears. A clicking sound comes from the room but no footsteps or voices. Gripping the mug before me like a pistol, I watch the door moving back and forth. The mug trembles in my hand and I place it on a delicate highly polished table beside a vase of fresh roses set on a lace doily. I don’t recall seeing the table before and why are the flowers here outside this particular room? The door whines again and I shrink back, heart thundering in my chest.
This is supposed to be my home so why am I so afraid? I’m no threat to anyone. Taking a deep breath, I push leaden feet toward the door, place one palm against it and thrust it open. I flinch as someone runs toward me but it’s only the long white silken curtains billowing out from the window like two women dancing in long white gowns. The window is wide open, pushedup on a sash and the thick drapes either side are gathered back and secured with gold ropes to rings in the wall.
Reluctantly, I step inside and scan the area. The bed and everything else are the same. Goosebumps prickle up my arms but I push through the fear and walk across the room and shut the window and secure it. I search the garden below and see Bill tending the flowerbeds. I leave the drapes open and move slowly through the room. The ever-present feeling of being watched hangs about me in a shroud of uncertainty. Why would someone want to observe me? I move my attention around the walls, searching for cameras, but shake my head. The technology these days could mean a camera might be hidden anywhere in anything and appear like a speck of dust.
Opening closets has become a challenge since seeing the mannequin but I suck in my breath and throw open the doors. A wave of old wooden closet smell fills my nostrils and a light flickering inside illuminates a figure. Alarmed, I jump back but it’s just a coat. I laugh at my stupidity and close the doors. I walk out, leaving the bedroom door wide open. The light streaming into the hallway is welcome. I gather my courage and make myself check the second bedroom but it is the same as it was the first time I peered inside.
