CHAPTER FOUR

I just set the last of the dishes to dry when I hear Victor’s voice, “Ah, Mary! There you are!”

I spin around, startled. Victor regards me with the same charming smile he wore last night. He has one hand behind his back and one arm on Celeste’s shoulder. Celeste stares at me with the flat, wide-eyed expression with which she greets me before.

Because she is here, I choose not to mention the encounter I have with him earlier in the afternoon. I only return his smile and say, “Hello. I was washing my dishes from earlier. Celeste and I enjoyed tea together after school.”

“Ah, how wonderful. I forgot we had tea. It was a gift from a gallery owner in New York a few years ago, but I don’t drink tea, so I just stuck it in the cabinet and forgot about it. I’m glad someone’s using it.”

“Yes, Celeste and I both quite liked it.”

“Good, good.” He leaves Celeste and heads to the kitchen. His eyes move everywhere but me as he opens cabinets and mutters to himself. “We can do the pork roast—no, no, the beef. We’ll serve rice on the side… Hmm, the pork roast after all. Rice and maybe steamed broccoli.”

“Celeste is a very bright young woman,” I interject, watching him flit about. “I believe she will have no trouble earning a scholarship in mathematics. Or perhaps you have connections to art schools that she could take advantage of? I hear she’s inherited your talent.”

He smiles briefly at me. “Yes, she’s very smart. Good artist too. If we serve pork, should I go for a spicier wine, perhaps? A Malbec or a Syrah? No, no, no, a white. It will be roasted with herbs. A Condrieu.”

I feel a touch of irritation. If this is how he behaves all the time, as though Celeste were an afterthought, then it’s no wonder she feels neglected. “She’s agreed to show me some of her work,” I tell him.

That does cause him to stop. He turns to me, a somewhat thin smile on his face. “Yes. I apologize for earlier. I know I was short with you. I did warn you that the studio was off limits, though.”

I hadn’t meant to bring that up. “Of course,” I reply. “I only meant to say that I’m enjoying getting to know your daughter.”

“Yes.” He gives Celeste a smile, and I’m encouraged to see his face soften. “She’s wonderful.”

I turn to Celeste, but instead of the gratitude or perhaps awkward shyness I expect, she is tense. Her shoulders are taut, and her gaze turned away from both of us. I have pushed too far.

“She is,” I say, then change the subject. “As for dinner, if you intend to roast the pork with herbs alone, then a condrieu is the perfect choice. If you intend to serve the pork with any kind of sauce, I prefer a Syrah. It is more peppery than a Malbec and not so heavy.”

“No sauce, no sauce,” he says, flitting around the kitchen again. “Condrieu it is.”

“If you’d like, I’d be happy to cook for you.”

“Nonsense,” he says. “Evelyn will cook. I’m just making sure we have everything we need in case I need to call her to pick up some ingredients along the way. I don’t leave the house much anymore.”

I want to ask him more about that, but this is hardly the right time. Instead, I turn to Celeste and ask, “Would you like to join me on the deck for some fresh air?”

She shakes her head without looking at me. “I’m going to draw.”

I let her leave. Part of me is upset at myself for causing tension, and part of me is upset at Victor for being more concerned with dinner than with his only child.

“Is this a special occasion?” I ask him.

He scoffs. “Not really. Lisa and Marcus are coming over.”

I lift an eyebrow. “And who are Lisa and Marcus?”

“Lisa’s my dealer and Marcus is the owner of the Carmel Art Gallery.”

It takes me a moment to deduce that he means Lisa is his art dealer and not his drug dealer. Considering his manic and distracted behavior so far, I hope I can be forgiven for wondering. “Ah. A business dinner then?”

“No,” he says tersely.

I can’t imagine for the life of me how my innocent question can be taken so poorly, but it’s been made clear enough that I’m in the way. “Well, I hope you two enjoy it.”

“Us three. You’re invited too.”

I am not really in the mood to have dinner with him after today, but I can’t leave Celeste alone to be ignored the entire meal. Besides, I should meet Evelyn. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

I head to the deck and gaze out on the Pacific. The heat of the day has driven the fog away and left a brilliant blue that complements the soft sea breeze perfectly. It does little to dissipate the cloud hanging over this house.

***

Evelyn Torres is a petite but sturdy woman in her mid-thirties with a deep olive complexion and thick, luxurious hair that she keeps tied in a sensible ponytail. We have little time to speak when she arrives, but her businesslike greeting and firm manner with Victor when she chases him from the kitchen speaks to a woman with a strong will and thick skin. I would do well to learn from her example.

The guests arrive shortly after. Neither of them make the mistake of intruding on Evelyn’s kitchen.

Lisa Reinhardt is a tall, stately woman in her late forties with chestnut brown hair helped to that color with an ample amount of dye. Her eyes are sparkling emeralds that are nearly as intense as Victor’s silver orbs. She greets me politely enough, then engages Victor in conversation about people I don’t know. I’m not offended by her disinterest. I am, after all, only a servant.

Marcus Fairfax is of average height and stocky build, the sort men who were once wrestlers or football players reach when they don’t exercise after leaving high school. He’s younger than Lisa but older than Evelyn, perhaps a year or two shy of forty.

He greets me with an energy that rivals Victor’s, though his appears far more tightly controlled. His eyes are shrewd and calculating. It’s a look I’ve seen on the faces of many business owners, and only rarely an indicator of poor character, so I decide it’s only my harrowing experiences so far in this house that makes me fear him.

Like Lisa, his greeting to me is perfunctory before he joins Victor and Lisa. I watch the conversation a moment, noting that they seem to flank Victor, almost as though attacking him. For Victor’s part, the mania is gone. I am seeing a third Victor Holloway now, a calm but fearless man who stands his ground in this little social tussle with the relaxation and strength of one confident of victory.

I consider myself quite a good judge of human character, and after a few minutes watching the three of them, it becomes clear that there is a great deal of animosity between them. It’s buried beneath the surface of a friendly business relationship, but there is resentment between all three of them. I wonder if that subsurface conflict is what causes Victor’s anxiety.

Evelyn announces that dinner is ready, and I turn to fetch Celeste, only to find her standing at the foot of the staircase. I flinch when I see her erect posture and unblinking eyes. How long has she been standing there?

Fortunately, I recover quickly. “Oh, Celeste! I was just about to fetch you. Evelyn’s just finished dinner.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” she replies.

Evelyn beams at her with the affection of a beloved aunt. “You’re welcome, honey.”

Celeste takes her place at the table. The others follow. I move ahead of them, ensuring that I can sit on Celeste’s right. Victor, thankfully, takes his place at her left.

I suppose my mistrust of Lisa and Marcus is more intense than I believe it to be at first. I can’t help but feel that Victor and I are protecting her from them somehow.

“So how’s your drawing coming, Celeste?” Lisa asks, opening the conversation.

“It’s good.”

“Anything you want me to know about?” Lisa gives her a sharklike grin. “It’s never a bad idea to get your name out there early.”

“Or to sell your work early,” Marcus added. “Victor’s loaded, but you don’t want to have to rely on Daddy’s allowance your whole life, right?”

Victor tenses at that. Even Lisa seems put off. She frowns at Marcus and scolds gently. “There’s no need to be crass, Marcus.” She smiles again at Celeste. “Art should be an expression of your spirit, not a commercial act.”

“Says the woman whose job it is to sell art,” Marcus countered.

“She certainly doesn’t have a problem commercializing my work,” Victor added.

Lisa’s smile fades. It’s clear she didn’t expect the two men to gang up on her. She delicately cuts into her pork roast and says, “You didn’t seem to mind the check you were cut for that commercialization.”

Marcus belts laughter and elbows Victor. “She’s got ya there, Vic. Principles pale when you’re looking at dollar signs.”

I stiffen a little, but the situation defuses when Victor bows with a flourish. “Alas, I cannot tell a lie. We wouldn’t have the wine we’re drinking now were it not for Miss Lisa’s adept marketing skills.”

Lisa returns his bow, and the conversation moves to other subjects. I turn to Celeste to make an aside about adults and their obsession with money, but I stop when I see her face. Her dark eyes stare at Lisa, but it’s not her eyes that startle me. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and she grips the handle of her knife almost lovingly as she slices into her own pork roast.

I turn away and focus on my own dinner. The tension between the adults must be more serious than I thought. I know children have a tendency to exaggerate such interactions, but the degree of animosity that radiates from Celeste is not the simple dislike of someone who is at odds with her father. There is a cold hatred there that in its disturbing way is the most mature emotion Celeste has expressed.

I wonder if this hatred has anything to do with those who have vanished. I remember that Celeste’s mother isn’t in the picture. Perhaps Celeste has a more concrete reason for her hatred of Lisa than the tension with Victor.

I must learn more about this vanishing point. I must learn too who the mysterious Elias is that Victor talks to. Has he vanished along with Celeste’s mother? Does Lisa have something to do with it somehow?

My desire for peace and quiet makes one more cry for attention in my mind before it too vanishes. There is an innocent and suffering girl here under my care, and I will learn what troubles her and who is responsible for it.

And if their actions call for justice, I will ensure that Celeste receives it.