Reilly 04 - Breach of Promise (11 page)

The coffee came, and the frightful check. Her watch said eleven o’clock. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got a plane waiting. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She paused, then said, “I’m thrilled to be working with you, Win.” She stuck out her hand.

“Cinderella,” he said, taking her hand between both of his, “better find both dancing slippers, fast. We’ve got a long way to go if we’re gonna avoid getting stuck with a pumpkin.”

The next morning, Nina called Sandy to tell her she might not get into the office until after lunch. Sandy said that Genevieve Suchat, the jury consultant, was due in the afternoon. Apparently determined to convince Nina to hire her, Winston had made the arrangements with impressive efficiency.

After taking two white pills to quiet the pounding in her head, she drove straight to the Markov house on Cascade Road. Rain slammed the road outside and her wipers slapped a quick, useless path through the river flowing down her windshield. An unexpected skid around a hairpin curve forced her to slow as she wound along a dirt road that hugged the lake’s edge.

Iron gates with gilt-tipped arrows on top stood open, and behind them a massive stone mansion met her eyes, turreted like a castle, surrounded by grounds so well-groomed the plants looked manufactured.

She pulled into a spot close to the house, awed at the ostentation and thinking how very, very much money it would take to build such a thing in California, on the shore of the state’s most desirable lake.

No umbrella presented itself in the box of emergency items on the floor of the littered backseat, so she rushed to the front door and rang the bell, narrowly avoiding a fatal slip off of the slick doorstep. In the relentless rain, the gigantic house loomed over her like a pile of boulders ready at any moment to give way in a landslide. Even the lake, merging its gray into the sky, had a leaden pull to it, as if the heavy gray water exerted more gravity than the rest of the earth.

Lindy answered, looking gaunt in a loose-fitting kimono over a black bodysuit. In spite of her impeccable hair and makeup, Nina could detect signs of the recent travails in her face.

“Thanks for coming,” Lindy said. “Let me take your jacket. You can leave the boots there.” She pointed to a stone bench under which resided the cleanest-looking shoes Nina had ever seen outside of a store display. Next to the bench were a dozen stacked cardboard boxes.

Lindy led Nina down a hallway, past two octagonal foyers, and through an oak-floored room as big as a ballroom. Above them, fighting to conquer the dismal day, crystal chandeliers lighted the way, swaying slightly in an invisible breeze.

They walked on. With blackened slate over many of the passageway floors, stone walls and rain pouring down the windows, the most brilliant lighting could not entirely exorcise a Gothic creepiness from the house.

In a room with a view of the lake, the sun hidden behind ribbons of clouds, Lindy apologized and asked Nina to wait just a minute.

She left. Nina sat down on a long bench that ran the length of the room, at least a hundred feet long. Some exercise equipment and objects she couldn’t identify filled one small alcove. The rest of the space, mirrored on one side, might function as a dance studio. She and Bob lived in a house that would fit into this one room.

Lindy reappeared. “Sorry. I’ve got our housekeeper, Florencia, helping me with the packing.”

“It is a magnificent house,” Nina said. “I’m sorry about all this, Lindy.”

“You’re not responsible. Blame Rachel. That’s what I do.”

“What’s it like,” Nina asked suddenly. “I mean, to be rich?”

“What a funny question.”

“Forget it. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“No, it’s interesting.” They walked across the room. Lindy stopped when she reached the area full of equipment. “The truth is, maybe because I had so little growing up, I really loved having money. It’s addictive as any drug that gets you high. Money blunts all the rough edges, soothes your soul, makes you feel special and powerful. There is nothing in the world as seductive.

“Have a problem? Throw enough money at it and I promise it will go away. Worried about the environment? Fund a cleanup project. Feeling sad? Plan a fabulous vacation. You feel like you can do anything when you have enough money, and there are so many things I still want to do in my life.”

“You mentioned power.”

“A real high, and easy to buy. People, too.”

They were in an area that held a stationary bike, a treadmill, a stand holding up a set of shiny silver free weights, and a number of odd things Nina had noticed while Lindy was talking. The biggest item was a transparent, cylindrical tank nearly as tall as Nina, full of water as clear and beautiful as a glass of turquoise Caribbean seawater.

“So I want my money,” Lindy said, sticking her hand over the top to wet her fingers. She took them out, looking satisfied. “And most of the time, I believe I deserve it, too.”

“You worked hard for it, Lindy.”

“Mike won’t see that. Plenty of other people won’t either. But money is only one reason for suing Mike. The other reason is that this case will make him face me and make him keep his promises to me.”

“No system can force someone who has wronged you to stay with you or love you again,” Nina said. “Money is the only compensation available, the objective standard. Your loss has to be quantified somehow. Emotions . . . they can’t be quantified.”

“I refuse to give it all up on demand. I refuse.”

“Lindy,” Nina said slowly, making ripples in the water with her fingernails. “What you said before . . . Are you by any chance thinking that you’ve bought me?”

“Of course not, Nina.” Lindy looked hurt. “You know this is about an issue that’s important to women, not just to me. And you’re doing this because you want to help me personally. Those are all the right reasons. And now we’re a team. No, the people you can buy are a whole different type.”

“What type?”

“Money is God to those people.” Drying her hands on a towel, as if physically expressing that she was done with that unpalatable line of thought, she stepped away from the tank. “Forgot to tell you to bring a swimsuit.” She rummaged in a cabinet near the spa.

“Oh, I wanted to mention I’ve hired one of the best palimony attorneys in the state to help me with your case.” Nina described some of Winston’s recent wins to Lindy. “Plus I’m interviewing a potential jury consultant this afternoon.”

“That sounds great. We’re going to win, whatever it takes,” Lindy said. She handed Nina a swimsuit. “This is probably about your size. Hop in the tank.”

When Nina shook her head Lindy said, “Nina, it means a lot to me that you see what I do. What I’m good at.”

Oh, why not, Nina thought. She’d just jump in and out and everybody could go back to work satisfied. She donned the simple black suit Lindy handed her as quickly as she could, imagining what Sandy, back at the office fielding irate inquiries, might say if she could see her now.

Against the wall a set of steps led to the top of the tank. Nina climbed up and stood looking into the water, the skin on her body rough with goose bumps.

“In you go,” said Lindy. “Need a push?” Suddenly realizing what she had said, she began to giggle, a nervous laugh tiptoeing along the brink of tears.

Nina slipped in feet first. Warm and supple as velvet, the water embraced her. The tank wasn’t wide or deep enough for diving. It hardly contained her up to the neck but she could extend both arms out to their full length. Air began to simmer up from the bottom.

“It’s like . . . a vertical spa.” She wondered if she would float on the air. The bubbles blew up around her, popping like tiny balloons. She didn’t float, but she felt like she weighed about ten pounds.

“That’s right.” Lindy turned the music down.

The sensation of the air bubbles and water felt fantastic.

“Now get ready,” Lindy said. “I’m turning on the surf.”

What the hell? Jets of water began to shoot upward. Nina had to struggle to keep her feet down. “Hey!” she said. “Hey, wait a sec here!”

The jets stopped. Lindy, smiled at her from the stairway beside the tank. “Don’t you just love it?”

Buoyed by the water and her own improving spirits, Nina had begun to bounce up and down. “It’s . . . stupendous. And now am I supposed to do water exercises?”

“That’s a big part of it. We’ve produced a whole series of videos to go along with it. Actually, several series, all new every couple of years. Want to learn a few moves?”

“Lindy,” said Nina, then stopped herself. Might as well take advantage of the moment. “Okay, maybe just one.”

“This will just take a few seconds more, I promise.” Lindy ran her through a few exercises. For one, Nina used only her toes to propel her entire body up, then down, her arms tightly pushed to her sides so that she rocketed smoothly through the water.

“Aqua-dynamics,” said Lindy. “You move faster and work those ankles. Now try bouncing on your knees. You’ll have to hold your breath and go under to get your knees down to the ground. Then push off as hard as you can. Don’t worry about splashing. The tank’s designed for that.”

The exercises took some getting used to. Nina had to work to get her knees to touch, and to bend at the waist, positioning herself so that she had room to complete the maneuver, but after a few minutes she could see that this was wonderful, vigorous fun.

“Then, of course, you can jog ninety miles or stretch like a prima ballerina. The Solo Spa is also great for getting people that weight-bearing exercise they need without destroying their feet. We have a lot of disabled clients, and people who are trying to thin down.”

“You said the exercises are only part of what you can do with this spa.”

“That’s right. In the past few years, we’ve been marketing the spa as more than an exercise aid. Water’s an ancient healer, and there’s nothing more primeval than submerging in this warm womb to mend a broken spirit or stoke the creative fires. People are seeking spiritual solace. What could be better comfort than this blending of the physical and the spiritual? You’ll like this.” She turned a knob in the tank and the bubbles increased.

Nina felt weightless. She stopped moving and hung in space, supported by the bubbles. “Words like solace, healing, and spiritual usually send me running for the hills, but I can see exactly what you mean. This is a hot bubble bath for the gods.”

Lindy looked happy. “I see we have a convert.”

“Are they all see-through like this one?”

“No. This is a demo, like the one we use in the videos. Most of the ones we sell are trimmed in wood like a regular outdoor spa.”

“Most?”

“Well, a couple of the casinos in Reno have special-ordered a pair with two layers of glass and acrylic, with twinkling lights between layers, for floor shows.”

“Good God.”

A distant phone rang and Lindy disappeared around a corner.

Nina closed her eyes, basking in the comfort of the warm water. A moment later, she opened them and was so startled to see a sturdy man with round ears peering in at her that she let out a small scream.

She stopped moving and hung there in her transparent bubble. When he didn’t say anything she said, “Hello.”

“You’re Lindy’s new lawyer?” he asked. He took his hands out of the pockets of his dirty overalls and placed them on the spa.

“Yes. And you are?”

“A friend,” he said, examining her body through the plastic. “I’m glad I caught you here.”

She wasn’t. Not at all. She debated getting out, and decided climbing a ladder would make her feel even more vulnerable.

“I want you to know something.” He spoke slowly, running a finger along the wet condensate on the outside of the tank, tracing a circle with a smaller one inside of it.

Like a target, Nina thought.

“I know you’re in it for the money,” he said, all motion suddenly halting. His face was so close to the tank, his breath made a fog on it every time he breathed.

“Who did you say you were?” Nina asked, by now very frightened at his tone and the strange look in his dark eyes.

“I know a few things about you lawyers. And I want you to know, if you dump her or hurt her or accept some kinda under-the-table payoff from that slob Mike to drop this case, I’m going to . . .”

Lindy came back into the room. “Oh, George, here you are. That was Alice. She’ll be here any second to drop off a set of keys.”

All sense of threat fading from him the minute Lindy entered the room, he ambled off toward the door. “I’ll get started, then.”

“Who’s that?” Nina asked.

“George Demetrios. He works at the plant.”

“Scary guy,” Nina said, beginning to climb a clear acrylic ladder up the side of the tank that led to the steps down.

“What, George?” Lindy laughed. “Yeah, I guess he does come off that way sometimes, but you don’t have to worry about him. He’s devoted to me. George is really just a lovable lunk. He’s helping me move a few boxes over to Alice’s house today.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Lindy handed her a towel and a white robe. Nina dried off. “Lindy, thanks for the demonstration. This is a fantastic product.”

“Only one of many. Our centerpiece. Now, let me show you how we market our spas. It’ll just take a minute and it’s warm in the showroom.” Located down a winding stairway, the showroom turned out not to be the display of pools Nina expected, but an intimate, plushly carpeted space with armchairs for ten, and a five-foot screen.

“This is a quickie selection reel,” Lindy said. “The workout videos last longer.”

They watched as a series of swimsuited bodies in all shapes and sizes and colors, old and young, took to the pool, running through exercises as light-footed as astronauts at zero gravity, moving rhythmically to jaunty music.

“We used to use only young, pretty girls. It was my idea to get all kinds of people on tape. Real people always come off clunky and fake when you try to use them in advertising, so these are all actors. They look great don’t they? Just like real people only just enough better-looking to make you happy to identify with them.”

Nina didn’t answer. The actors did look great, but businesspeople made Nina nervous when they talked so blithely about the subtle forces they wielded to coerce and manipulate her.