Tell her were going out, Taz insisted. This feels destined. Besides, we had a date.
Why had she ever mentioned Zoë to Taz? As a Realtor, Hannah was alone with her clients in her car long hours. While they drove or walked through empty houses, people tended to share their most intimate secrets. Zoë had told her most of her incredible story the first thirty minutes theyd known each other.
Then this afternoon while theyd checked for mold on a waterfront house, Zoë had filled in the last gaps in her tale. Not that Hannah had paid as much attention as usual since the deposition had been looming over her.
The scene replayed itself in her mind. Her most trusted carpenter, a retired navy guy with a bad knee, Tommy Thompson, had been on a short, wobbly ladder sawing a hole in the ceiling. Zoë had chattered underneath him about her new husband, Tony, a rancher, whod been her high school sweetheart. Their ranch was sixty miles south on the outskirts of a gossipy town called Shady Lomas. Apparently, theyd had a lovers quarrel as teenagers. To get revenge, Zoë had gone to a pig race at a rodeo, and Tonys scandalous Uncle Duncan had gotten her drunk there. Uncle Duncan had had his own plane, and when Zoë had awakened in Vegas the next morning, shed had a ring on her finger and was married to the old reprobate.
Zoë had been in the middle of her tale of woe when a hunk of drywall had fallen out of the ceiling and shattered, spraying both women with white bits of wallboard. Tommy had yelled no mold, triumphantly, and Hannah had grabbed his ladder to steady it.
Ill make an offer tomorrow, Zoë had said, clapping.
Everybody ready to go? Im late, Hannah had said.
The deposition? Zoë had asked.
Joe Campbell is like an ax hanging over my head.
On the way to Zoës beachfront hotel, Zoë hadnt stopped talking. Duncan knew he was dying all along. He married me so hed go out with a bang.
For this reason he ruined your life?
No, he was sweet. Shed paused. He died a few weeks after the wedding and left me everything. Unfortunately, the inheritance included the ranch Tony leased and believed should have been his. Then Duncans daughters sued me, too.
By the time Hannah and Zoë reached the hotel, Hannah was thirty minutes late, and Zoë was still talking about the gossip, lawsuits and spite that had driven her from Shady Lomas and the man shed really loved to Manhattan, where shed become an editor.
Not a very good one, though, Im afraid, and I was so lonely, Zoë had admitted sadly. My only claim to fame is that I discovered Veronica Holiday and edit her books.
The Veronica Holiday? Ive read all her books. Shes fabulous.
Well, Ill tell her I met a fan. Shes here, you know. At this hotel. On tourandwriting.
What?
Thought Id kill two birds.Shop for a house and help her.Long story.
Still, Zoë hadnt gotten out. Oh, I almost forgotthe adoption papers on Noah came through.
The entire conversation flashed in Hannahs mind as she jotted 2:00 p.m. on her calendar for tomorrow.
Zoë needed a house in town because the schools in Shady Lomas didnt challenge Noah, her nine-year-old stepson.
Never one to be left out of a conversation for long, Taz punched the speaker phone button while Hannah slid her calendar back into her purse.
So how did your deposition go? Zoës voice blared into the kitchen.
Hes got the hots for her, Taz said. He fixed her flat.
Whos this? Zoë sounded both surprised and curious to hear a new voice.
Joe Campbell does not have the hots for me!
Im her next-door neighborTaz. Her spiritual adviser. Shes trying to stand me up for supper.
Did he or did he not hit on you, Hannah?
Flushing, Hannah glared at Taz.
Thethe only thing he tempts me to do is murder
Lawyers. The only good lawyer is a dead lawyer, Taz said.
Zoë laughed. Joe Campbells partner, Bob Africa, is suing me.
What?
Tony called me about it today. Bob Africa had Tony served today. Apparently, my stepdaughters hired Bob. Theyve gone through all the money I gave them when we settled the first lawsuit. Now they say I suckered their lonely old father into marriage and killed him for his money. People have stopped speaking to Tony and me. Tony hung up so tense he would barely speak to me. Ive been crying ever since.
What kind of lowlife sues a pregnant lady? Taz began. Then she told Zoë she was being sued, too.
Zoë giggled after shed heard the story. Hes going to tell the judge hes mad because a hot pickle burned his pink pickle?
Everybody laughed.
Zoë said, Weve got too many lawyers, or at least the wrong kind. In South Texas, anyway.
Taz chugged a second glass of wine. HeyI say we adjourn to your hotel bar and have a serious discussion about this issue.
No, Hannah said.
Yes! And the more the merrier, Tasmania persisted. Ive just been dying to meet the shady lady of Shady Lomas.
Id love to meet you, too, but this is sort of a work night. Im with a writer. Shes here on tour for her latest book, Four Wishes, but her work-in-progress is late. And shes blocked. And when shes blocked she gets so crazy theres no telling what shell do. Tomorrow, shes got a television show and a book signing, and shes publicity shy. I promised her tonight Id play Muse.
Sounds like you both could use a break, Tasmania persisted. Besides, I swear Ill inspire her. Have you been to that great bar in your hotel that overlooks the beach?
I can hear the music all the way up here. Okay, if you really want to comebut just for a little while. Zoë gave them her room number.
No way am I driving back to town, Hannah began.
But Zoë and Taz had already hung up.
Ill drive then, Taz said. A writer, she mused. This is great. Shes got to have a creative mind. Shell know just what to do about Mr. Billboard and Mr. Hot Pickle whose pickle wasnt all that hot if you want the truth.
Murder, Hannah suggested.
But how? Honey, we need specificsa plot.
It doesnt take a genius to shoot a guy in his parts, grind him into hamburger meat and sell it to Big Burger to feed the natives, Hannah said. Hows that for specifics?
Honey, I know youre off burgers and mad as all get out, but, please, dont ruin my appetite. Im dying for a burger, cut the pickles, please, even if every bite decides to live on my thighs. Besides, Taz said, Joey boy is too cute to shoot, and you dont have a gun.
Thats no problem in Texas.
BOOK TWO
The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless.
JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU
Five
Campbells head pounded as he wheeled into the nursing home parking lot so fast he spun gravel. His headache got worse as he parked his gleaming black Porsche near the front doors of the red brick building. Twice a month he came here, and he hated every minute of it, even as he hated himself for being such a sap as to come.
A group of old men and women, their wheelchairs jammed together in a tight little semicircle, were smoking and telling stories until they saw him. Every one of them set his cigarette aside and stared at him blanklyas if he were someone interesting.
Campbell cut the ignition and got out of the car. Poor devils, didnt they have anything better to do? No, they were out here every time he came to visit. He smiled and they smiled back, just like always. Hell, at least they had one another. Who the hell did he have?
When he got nearer, they waved and he waved to each one, scanning each wrinkled face. But his father never left his room.
His mood darkened as he headed inside, striding down a long hall past limp, corpselike figures in recliners on wheels, past the nurses station, where the head nurse eyed him warily.
He wasnt the most popular visitor. Too many lawyers had won huge judgments in Texas against nursing homes by charging neglect for bad results that were nothing more than the natural consequences of old age. Not that Campbell ever took such cases, but the old battle-ax didnt know that.
He stalked down the hall and into his fathers room. As always, the shades were drawn. Still, he made out two beds squashed together in the gray light. The bed nearest the door was empty, yet the floor and bed linens and chairs reeked of old man and dried urine and pine-scented disinfectant. Vaguely he wondered what had happened to the old fellow whod been here last week.
When a thin stick figure with grizzled hair and a wizened face that somehow still resembled his own stirred in the bed by the window, Campbell snapped on the light.
Dad?
The old man hadnt been washed or shaved that day. He blinked a couple of times and then held up a thin hand that was spotted with age.
At the sight of Campbell, the old mans expression darkened just like it used to. Turn out the damn light and get out of my sight! Nobody invited you. You aint no son of mine.
Campbell shrank from him just like he had when hed been a boy.
I came by to see if you needed anything.
His father snorted. As if you give a damn.
The harsh words hurt way more than they should have. Campbell couldnt account for it, didnt want to account for it. Hed never known anything but pain from his father.
I know we didnt get along in the pastbut youre sick now. Maybe you need somebody.
Maybe I do, too. Did they have to hate each other forever? Then he remembered his mother. Yeah, maybe they did.
Are you deaf? And crazy, too? His father picked up a bedpan and threw it at him.
Campbell ducked as he hadnt been able to duck as a kid, and the pan whizzed past him out into the hall.
Get the hell out of here, the old man said.
When Campbell hurled himself outside into the brightly lit hall a dozen patients stared blankly at him and the bedpan.
You killed her. Remember that. Just like youre killing me. Dont come back.
Campbell told the nurse the old man smelled bad and needed a bath. She told him three orderlies had tried, but hed fought them so hard, theyd given up.
Campbell walked down the hall, his spirits lifting, but only a little, when he saw the exit sign.
The trouble with old people in nursing homes waiting to die was they slammed you into your own mortality. Campbell couldnt come here without taking a long, cold look at himself.
What the hell was he doing with his own life? Would anybody care if he died tomorrow?
Yes, they would. A lot of people would be glad.
War Party.
The red neon letters of the hotel sign flickered like flares against the red sky and bay. In the distance a lone sailboat rode the waves. Not that Hannah noticed the yacht. She was too busy wondering why shed let Taz talk her into this.
One glance at that hotel sign had her pulse in overdrive. The huge motorcycles gleaming in the red sunlight in the jammed parking lot didnt help her mood, either.
Taz, lets go home.
We just got here, girl. Georgias fine. Lillys a great sitter.
When Taz wheeled into the lot, a burly pair of bikers in black vests with chains belted around their waists hooted, Womenover here!
Grinning at Taz, they gunned their engines and then rolled their big chopped hogs out of a parking space beside the hotel entrance.
The bikers burly arms had tattoo sleeves.
Taz, I want to go home.
With a jaunty smile Taz zoomed into the empty spot. Jesus, I wish we were on my bike.
Hannah buried her face in her hands.
Taz laughed. You need this recharge way more than I do. Your life is too bo-oring.
Which is exactly the way I want it.
Why?
Because I want to be safe. Because I want Georgia safe. Because Ive learned lessons I never wanted to learn.
Not that she could tell Taz any of her story. Not about her crazy, superfamous parents or their highly publicized squabbles. Not about the wall between their two houses. Not about her little-girl dream of wanting them to simply be happy. Not about her own fame at too early an age. Not about her own need to rescue bad handsome men, either. Not about the terrible experiences her husband had had in boarding school.
Shed loved the wrong men with a big open heart. Shed paid a huge price for her naiveté. And so had Georgia. No more. For Georgias sake, if not her own, she had to make more prudent decisions.
Inside the hotel, Hannah had barely had one long slim foot with badly painted orange toenails across the threshold of the jammed bar, before she knew for sure she was in the wrong place at the wrong time again.
Then Veronica showed up in a hot pink miniskirt and a revealing blouse looking wild beside a radiantly pregnant Zoë.
Every outlaw in the smoke-filled din lifted a beer and saluted the four women in the doorway.
Three cheers for the Hot Ladies.
Veronica laughed as if oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.
Doesnt look like theres a table for four, Hannah blurted. Taz, lets go.
Taz grabbed her by the elbow and held her fast. LookyOver thereBy the pool tablesFour gentlemen
Not exactly, Hannah murmured as four guys in tight, greasy jeans and dark wraparound glasses shot clumsily off their stools, knocking a couple over as they pointed at the table and beckoned them.
Tazs braids shook as she laughed in delight. What did I tell you? Bikersmy kind of guys. Is this place great or what?
Zoë and Hannah rolled their eyes.
Are you crazy? Hannah asked.
Its my makeover thats got em so wild.
Dont forget Veronica with her platinum hair and low-cut outfit.
Youre a high school principal, Hannah said.
Dont remind me.
Maybe you should do volunteer work at an all-male prison, Hannah suggested as she clutched her purse against her nipples, which were standing at attention in sheer terror. Then, like a duck following her mama into a deep pool, she stayed glued to Tazs ample hips as her friend plowed through the men and the haze of cigarette smoke to their table.
Why had she worn a white T-shirt that glowed blue and clung to her flesh like shrink wrap? Hannah wondered. Better questionwhy hadnt she at least worn a bra and a blousy shirt that hid her belly button?
Table or not, I still want to go home, Hannah repeated as the women squeezed themselves onto four short stools and Taz signaled a waitress and ordered four beers.