The Tour (8 page)

“Are you okay to fly?” I ask her, sitting down across from them.

“I hope so,” she replies. “We left in a hurry, that’s for sure.”

“Manny picked you up?” I ask.

“He did. He said the police let him go.” I nod and then settle down in the single seat and put my seatbelt on. I can hear Deloris whispering soft things into Riley’s ear about how much fun they’re going to have decorating the tree when we get to our new house. It pulls on some longing inside me for those things, too. Or maybe I’m a little jealous that Riley kind of has a mom figure and I don’t.

When I look back toward the car, I see Devon and Manny helping Kolton out. He looks wilted and slow in his baggy jeans and white T-shirt, which takes me down a notch or two on the anger scale. They help him up the steps and into the middle section, into one of the VIP seats facing front. I notice the two of them talk to Maggie, who’s now standing by the car. I wave toward her when I realize she’s not coming, but I don’t think she sees.

It bugs me that Kolton exiled himself from us. My heart feels the magnetic pull to him, but I ignore it and stay in my one-seater facing the rear of the aircraft. Better to let him calm down by himself.

Mannie and Devon take their places beside Kolton in the plush first row that faces away from us, and soon we’re flying toward Christmas at Kolton’s childhood home.

Secrets and Noodles

“S
hould we order in?” I ask as I aimlessly wander around the kitchen after Manny and Devon get Kolton settled in the master bedroom. His dark room at the end of the hall feels angry, like a black hole, and I plan to avoid it for a while.

“I can help you fix something,” Deloris says from her spot on the Sante Fe colored eighties couch.

“No way, Deloris. How ’bout we order pizza?” I ask.

“Pizza, yeah!” Riley cheers, hopping up from the couch and setting down her Nintendo controller.

“They don’t deliver here. This house is in the boonies¸” Devon says, winking at Riley. She deflates and turns back to the old-school Donkey Kong game she’s playing on the relic of personal gaming heaven.

I wonder if Kolton’s dad played Nintendo or if they bought it for Kolton—he was just a little guy back then. When I turn back toward the kitchen, Devon is perusing the pantry and starts taking out the makings for spaghetti. “This’ll be easy. Besides, everybody likes spaghetti,” he says.

I open the fridge, finding mushrooms, spinach, baby carrots, and grape tomatoes. Without being asked or told, I get out a cutting board, clean the veggies, and start slicing them. “Who brought the food?” I ask.

“There’s a housekeeper who stocks the fridge,” Devon explains.

“Are you going to make two sauces?” I ask when I see him pull out some hamburger meat.

“Oh, right,” he answers, remembering that I’m a vegetarian. “What do you say, guys? Vegetarian night?” he asks, pointing to all the different veggies I’ve got surrounding me.

“Blech,” Riley grunts, but keeps her eyes on the blinking screen.

“That’s fine, dear,” Deloris says. “Riley’ll eat anything you put in front of her. She’s a good girl, aren’t you, Riley?” To that, Riley’s bottom lip sticks out, but I don’t think she’s going to give us any trouble.

As Devon fills the tall pot with water to boil, I decide to ask him what happened up there. I really need to know. Kolton is so angry, and its effect on his moods is palpable. “How’d she get in, Devon?” I ask softly, as if it makes no difference whether he tells me. I’m sure Kolton’s told him not to say, but Manny’s outside smoking a cigarette, and I don’t want to ask him since he had more to do with how it ended than anyone else.

“Mia,” he states, firmly, and sets the pot on the stove, turning up the heat. My eyebrow cocks up like, ‘what?’ and his voice drops to a monotone whisper. “I’m only telling you this because I think you have a right to know since you were there, too. He doesn’t want you to know anything.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

“Through the staff entrance,” he admits, looking at Deloris and Riley, who don’t seem to notice what we’re talking about.

When I turn to face him, knife in hand, confused as hell, he clarifies, “through the elevator in the kitchen, Mia. That’s the staff entrance.” I didn’t know there was an elevator in the kitchen. It must be in the pantry on the other side where Deloris’ bedroom door is.

“How’d she? I mean, why didn’t the alarm go off?”

“The alarm wasn’t set.” His eyes dart over to Deloris and Riley, who still haven’t seemed to hear us. “When they came home, they forgot to set it. Even if they had, that elevator wasn’t alarmed. We had a camera on it, but there’s a key needed to get in, then you have to know the code. We didn’t feel, we didn’t consider it; we messed up, basically, when we installed the system. The elevator was a weak link in our armor.”

“But the cameras. Who watches them? Why didn’t someone alert us before it got ugly?”

“We didn’t have anyone watching. The cameras were supposed to be a deterrent, not a twenty-four hour monitoring system. It was more for protection, just in case.”

“But? But—how was that supposed to deter her?”

“She was warned about them. She knew they were there, but it didn’t matter. She robbed some other resident’s staff member of the key, but—”

“But what?” I ask.

“The lady didn’t realize it was gone until later. She told the police that Katharina bumped into her and the key was probably stolen while she was picking up the groceries. She had an extra one in her purse, so she thought she’d lost it until she saw the story on the news.”

“How’d she know the code?”

“We don’t know that, yet. The cops might, but they haven’t told us.”

“Have you seen the footage?” I ask, feeling goosebumps of escaped fate all over my skin. He just nods.

“We shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” he says, his back stiffening. “He’s not going to be happy about us talking like this.”

“But I should be able to know, right? That was
me
she wanted to kill, my sister. Not just him. Why is he hiding everything from me?” It feels like a heavy shadow hanging over me with no face.

“He’s protecting you, Mia. What happened up there—” he starts, but his bottom lip stiffens and his chin starts to quiver. He stops talking because the words are too ugly to come out but they’re about me and mine, and I want to know. Rather than divulge, he takes a scoop of my veggies and throws them into the pissed-off oil so they can sizzle and brown.

When Manny comes in, I try not to feel weird about him. It’s not that
I’m
uncomfortable—it’s that he is, and I don’t want him to know I’ve noticed.

Killing a person has to change someone, straight down to their DNA. If he’d ever had to kill someone before, I doubt it was a beautiful, famous woman, or that it would have been talked about all over the news. I make a mental note not to read any of it. Even though I want to, it won’t be the truth. I want Kolton to tell me.

I smile at him and offer a carrot just as the doorbell rings. “Are we expecting someone?” They don’t seem alarmed. Manny is crunching the little carrot between his teeth when he opens the door.

“Hello,” says a tall, slim brunette in the doorway. “I’m Dr. Wilshire here to see Kolton Royce.” She purrs, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

“Yes, right this way,” he nods, motioning her toward Kolton’s room. She catwalks past us with her doctor bag on wheels, down the hall, and I move toward the hallway in time to see her feeling for the light switch before it blinks on. I stand here, watching. When Kolton sees her, he smiles.

He knows her; this isn’t just some doctor who does house calls. My throat starts to burn and my stomach tightens into a knot. Her voice is soft, comforting, and annoying as fuck. It prickles my skin worse than a rash. He chuckles, warming the air between them, making me feel like I’m in Antarctica compared to them.

I will him to look at me, but he doesn’t. She removes the needles and wipes the top of his hand with antiseptic before pulling the bandage off the wound on his chest. I see now that his tattoo is unharmed; the large gash is just above it. She cleans his wounds, slowly. I’m watching her fingers as she works her magic, and I know she’s touched him before. It’s obvious.

She’s older, probably in her early forties, but beautiful. She takes care of herself, and everything about her scares the living shit out of me.

They’re talking, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s like he’s trying to keep me from hearing their conversation.

“Are you done with the veggies?” Devon asks and I gasp. I forgot he was even in the kitchen. I walk back to him and I realize he’s added the sauce to the veggies and is washing spinach for the salad.

“Who is that lady?”

“She’s a doctor,” Manny replies, all too serious.

“But where’d she come from? Do they know each other?”

“They know each other,” Devon clarifies. “She’s a friend of the family.”

“So, he just called her or—?”

“Yeah. He called and asked if she could come check on him since he didn’t get to check out of the hospital properly. She’s bringing him some antibiotics and pain meds.” I grab a glass bowl and start throwing all the ingredients together for the salad when I catch Devon and Manny give each other a look that says, ‘
she’s jealous’.

“Is that really appropriate?” I ask, feeling the burn of jealousy. I want her gone. “Does she have to come back again?”

“I’m sure she’ll be back to check on him. And, if I might add,” Manny starts, “If you’re going to act like this every time some woman he’s slept with comes around, you’re going to be one pissed off…”

“Manny!” Devon exclaims, shushing him.

“I’m going outside,” he says, grabbing his cigarettes and slamming the front door. So I was right; he
has
slept with her. He’s slept with everyone, I guess. It burns, and I can’t help it.

“He’s changing, Mia,” Devon says softly, breaking into my pity party. “You should know that. He has been completely faithful to you since you came into his life. His past won’t change.”

“I—I know that,” I admit.

“Don’t punish him, or yourself, over things that meant nothing to him.”

“But why does he bring her here? To flaunt his past in front of me?” He opens his mouth to respond, but her heels clicking back up the hallway interrupts him.

“Devon,” she says. “I’ve given him some pain meds and antibiotics. That wound on his upper arm looks a little too red for my liking. But he needs to take the rest of these—two a day until they’re gone. And the pain meds, he just needs to take those when he needs them.”

“Aren’t you coming back?”

“I can’t. Not until I get back from LA, which will be about three days. So if he has any problems,” she takes a card out of her purse and sets it on the table, “call my husband, Carl. He can come right over. If that fever comes back, though, you need to take him in. No waiting.”

“Got it,” Devon answers, as Manny comes in bringing his cigarette smell with him. I feel my lips mouthing the words
husband Carl
. I wondering if they slept together when there was a husband Carl, or before his time.

“You did a great job getting your sister out of that fire, young lady,” she tells me, swinging her hair behind her shoulder.

“Which time?” I offer sarcastically, unable to stop the words.

Her eyes narrow on me as if she’s reading me, maybe to find out if I know about her and Kolton. “Both,” she answers. “Both times. Such a hero. Kolton’s lucky to have someone like you. God knows he needed some settling down.”

There’s a flood of things I’d like to say, but I choke them down with a sip of water from the counter. I don’t even know whose glass it is but it’s a healthy distraction. “Thanks,” I blurt and sit down, wishing she’d go away already.

“Deloris, right?” she asks. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, fine,” she responds. “I wasn’t so much hurt as I was just plain exhausted. I’ve got some cuts from falling when I’d come down the stairs, but those are healing up nicely.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

“No, not at all. No peeking, boys,” she laughs, glancing at Devon and Manny.

“Would you feel more comfortable if we stepped outside, Ma’am?” Devon asks, already moving toward the door. He’d just dumped the noodles into a metal colander on the sink, the steam still fuming toward the ceiling. “Mia, can you put those noodles in the big bowl and add the oil real quick while we give Deloris some privacy?”

“I got it.” As I’m doing my part, I watch the doctor check Deloris over, laughing at her nervous jokes and helping her feel at ease.

“I think you’re going to be just fine,” Dr. Wilshire says before turning toward me. “How are you, Mia? I know you got caught up in a mob today at the mall. Did you get hurt at all?”

“No. They were just taking pictures. Somebody pulled my hair, but that was the worst of it.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she answers, pausing a little too long while she looks me over. “I mean, not about the hair pulling incident. I’m glad to hear you’re okay and unharmed.” It’s forced and weird, like she’s trying too hard for me to like her. It irritates me.