Page 10 of One Last Secret

“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 kitchenspeaks 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.”

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