style="font-size:15px;"> “You’ve always had such a positive spirit! I so admire that quality, dear.”
“What I need more than anything is rest, Mother.”
“Darling … did those bastards … did they …”
Lilah looked at Decker. “No.”
Davida followed her daughter’s eyes, noticing Decker’s presence for the first time. “Darling, who’s this man?”
“He’s the police, Mother.”
Davida walked in measured steps over to Decker and lifted her veil. Her skin was ghostly white, but stretched tight over large cheekbones. She had broad features—a wide nose, wide-set eyes that were round and bright and very dark. Her mouth seemed to stretch from ear to ear. Her hair was pulled back over a high-set forehead and dyed blue-black. She’d need another rinse soon—a hint of white at the root line.
Up close, Decker found Davida Eversong a little simian-looking, but he could imagine that her strong features had come across well on the big screen. In the beauty department, Lilah had it over Mom hands down. But daughter’s delicate features just might blur when magnified.
Decker knew Mom was studying him, her eyes boring into his without so much as a twitch of discomfort. No wonder Morrison had been pestering him on the progress of the case. Decker didn’t know if it was acting or what, but Davida reeked with wealth and power. Offscreen, she was more formidable than any part she had ever played on-screen.
“So you’re the police,” Davida said.
“Yes, ma’am. Sergeant Decker.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Sergeant. We need to talk. Although the jewelry wasn’t as valuable as the pieces I keep in the bank vault, some of the items were highly sentimental. I trust you’ll do everything possible to find the criminals who took them from me.”
Decker looked at Lilah. “You had jewelry in your safe?”
In a bored voice, she said, “Mother kept some jewelry there. That wasn’t what they were after, Peter.”
“I suppose you’ll need a description, Sergeant,” Davida said. “I’ll give you the name of my insurance broker. He has written descriptions and Polaroids of each item. I’d like all my jewelry back but there’s an emerald brooch of particular interest for me. It was a gift. Well, all the pieces were gifts … that’s another story.” She turned to Lilah. “Really, darling, you should have told me right away. Those bastards might have already fenced the larger stones.”
“They weren’t after your jewelry, Mother. They were after Father’s memoirs.”
“Lilah, dear—”
“The jewelry is garbage in comparison to the real treasure.”
“Darling, a five-carat Colombian emerald isn’t garbage by anyone’s standards.”
“Garbage!” Lilah was red-faced. “It’s all garbage! They weren’t after something as common as your jewelry. They were after Father’s memoirs. Your jewelry is GARBAGE!”
“Dear me, Lilah, I know you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, but do control your temper.” She turned to Decker. “Lilah was always a highly emotional child. Like me. But I directed my emotions into acting. Don’t you think Lilah would have made a wonderful actress—”
“Mother, this is not a role I’m playing. This is real life. I was hurt, damn it—”
“Delilah Francine, do try and calm down.” Davida slithered down into a seated position at her daughter’s bedside and kissed her forehead. “It can’t be good for you to work yourself up into a lather.” She brought her hand to her chest. “Lord knows, it’s not good for me.” She kissed Lilah again, then looked up at Decker. “Why aren’t you out looking for my jewelry?”
“I’m not done interviewing Lilah, Ms. Eversong. Would it be possible for you to step outside for a moment until I’ve finished up?”
“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Just keep going. Pretend I’m not here.”
Lilah growled, “He needs to talk to me alone.”
“Alone?” Davida leaned in close and whispered a stage aside into her daughter’s ear. “Is he trustworthy?”
Lilah closed her eyes and answered yes.
Davida patted her hand. “Well, if you think you’re in good hands, I’ll be on my way. I’ll speak to you as soon as you’ve returned to the spa. Do come home soon. This place is dreadful. A little wallpaper would certainly go a long way.”
“Why don’t you talk to the hospital’s administrator about it?”
“Girl, I don’t talk to anyone unless it’s a dire emergency. My children excepted, of course. Freddy tells me he’s checking you out this afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“Lovely.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I’ll just leave the makeup here. Should I send more cover-up with Freddy this afternoon? After all, who knows who’ll be watching?”
“Do whatever you want, Mother.”
“Do try and rest, Lilah dear.”
“I’m trying.”
“Good-bye, dear.”
“Ms. Eversong,” Decker said. “I’d like to talk to you about your jewelry.”
Lilah shook her head. “It wasn’t what they were after, Peter. Believe me.”
“I believe you, Lilah,” Decker said, “but they took the jewelry anyway. With a good description, I might be able to track down some of the pieces and find these monsters.” He turned to Davida. “Is there somewhere we can talk while Lilah’s describing her assailants to the police artist?”
“You saw the thieves!” Davida said, clapping her hands. “Wonderful! Wonderful!”
“I didn’t see them, Mother. I imaged them.”
Davida stopped applauding. “Oh. That’s nice, dear.”
“Imaged them very clearly!”
Davida stood and brushed a piece of imaginary dirt off her dress. “Very good, dear.” She turned to Decker. “I suppose I might be able to wait for you inside the limo in front of the hospital.”
“That would be perfect.”
She smiled, offered Decker her arm. “Accompany me down the hall, Sergeant.”
Decker looked at Lilah.
“Go ahead.”
Lilah was barely suppressing her rage. And here he was, caught between a rock and a rock. What happened when two rocks were rubbed together? Lots of friction, sometimes fire.
Decker
