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Paige walked Mary over to her mother, who with a heavy accent said, “Thank you. Thank you.”
Paige smiled as she looked down and saw Mary eyeing her silk scarf. She bent down and asked, “Do you like my scarf?” The little girl reached up to touch it. When Mary’s mother started to object, Paige politely stopped her. “Well you know what?” She took off her scarf and wrapped it around Mary. “It’s yours now.” Mary’s eyes lit up and she beamed brightly. Paige bent down close to the smiling child. “Just promise me one thing, Mary. Promise me you’ll remember that it’s not what we wear on the outside that makes us pretty.” Paige pointed to Mary’s heart. “It’s what we have on the inside that makes us pretty.”
A tear ran down the mother’s face. She motioned to her cart. “Take one. Take one. Is free for you.”
Paige looked over the jewelry. She pointed to a beautiful white magnesite braided leather bracelet. Mary’s mother handed the bracelet to Paige, who promptly placed it on her wrist. They exchanged unspoken words of appreciation—from the mother for receiving the gift and from Paige for accepting the gift—then turned and saw Mary looking up at the spinning Ferris wheel.
Paige walked over to Mary. “Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” she said. Mary grinned. “Have you ever been on it?”
Mary shook her head. “No.”
“Well there’s no time like the present.” Paige pulled two admission tickets for the ride from her purse. “These have been burning a hole in my pocketbook for months now.” She held up the tickets.
“There’s two of them,” said Mary. “Can you come on the ride with me?”
“I can’t, Mary. I just ate, and I don’t want to take a chance on getting sick.” Paige looked at Mary’s mother. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.” She led Mary back over to her mother and said, “Why don’t the two of you go?”
The mother shook her head while pointing to the cart. “No. No.”
Paige took hold of the mother’s hand. “It’s all right. I’ll stand here and watch the cart for you.”
The mother looked down at her daughter, who begged, “Please, Mommy, come with me.”
The mother bowed, taking the tickets from Paige’s hand. “Thank you. Very much.”
“You’re very welcome,” Paige said. “Now go have a good time with your daughter, and I’ll watch over your jewelry for you.”
“Okay.” The mother took her daughter by the hand and led her toward the Ferris wheel.
That good deed should cover me for a while.
The smirk on Paige’s face slowly grew into one crammed with conceit. “So you can’t wait to get your hands on me, huh?” she whispered aloud. “Well who could blame you?” She glanced at the Queensbay Bridge in the near distance.
Hold on, Senator. Paige is coming.
CHAPTER TWELVE
PAIGE
Girlish daydreams of a Cinderella-type wedding and A-list parties in the Senator’s mansion filled Paige’s head as she walked along the sidewalk of the Queensbay Bridge.
Paige Storm. Mrs. Paige Storm. The Senator’s wife, Mrs. Paige Storm…
Gradually the chime of her smartphone pulled her back to the world that knew her as Paige Turner. She took out her phone and read the screen:
IM from Roommates: SSS: Is that you?
Paige grinned and looked toward the middle of the bridge where a lone figure was standing in the distance holding a bouquet of yellow roses.
PAIGE: Maybe. Are those for me?
SSS: Yes. And there’s a surprise for you inside.
Paige drew closer to the figure and typed:
What kind of surprise is it?
SSS: The kind you wear around your neck.
Damn. Next time it better be a ring, after you serve Melissa with divorce papers, that is.
With the erotic coyness of a stripper wearing a nun’s outfit, Paige approached the figure, whose face was shielded from view by the eye-catching bouquet.
“Can’t wait to get your hands on me, huh?” she asked, hugging the figure warmly. “Well then,” she said, moving the bouquet to reveal the silhouette of a hooded figure, “prove it.” Paige stepped up close for a kiss, quickly pulling away with a look of bewildered recognition. “You. Is this your idea of a joke?”
The spark of an electric charge ignited from behind the bouquet, and Paige saw a noose dangling by the figure’s side.
“What the fu—”
The hooded figure violently thrusted a stun gun into her open mouth.
***
A Harbor Cruises ship approached the Queensbay Bridge on its way to the Queen Mary. A badly dressed male tourist and his female companion stood together on the observation deck as the ship was about to pass underneath the Queensbay Bridge. The tourist couple oohed and aahed as they gazed up at the bridge’s colorful lights.
“Oh, how pretty,” the female tourist remarked. “Get some pictures of those lights.”
“Okay, hun,” said the male tourist. While he fumbled with his newly purchased digital camera, a white magnesite, braided leather bracelet struck him square on the head. “Ow! What the blazes?”
The female tourist rushed over to check on him. “Are you—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her question, because when she looked up she screamed as Paige’s lifeless body plummeted from the bridge and jerked to a stop several feet above the ship’s observation deck, swaying to and fro as it hung from the noose tied to the bridge’s rail.
The male tourist aimed his camera upward and framed Paige in the view finder.
***
The hooded figure sat in a filthy, dimly lit room. There was just enough light to barely make out several cutout photographs of Lexa strewn all over the top of the equally filthy desk.
Lexa’s Roommates page’s friends list was displayed on the crud-covered monitor, whose skull cursor moved over and stopped on Paige’s picture, the number two spot on the list. The word “UPLOAD” appeared on-screen. A click of the mouse replaced Paige’s beautiful profile picture with one of a bird’s-eye view of her hanging dead from the Queensbay Bridge.
***
A newspaper article ran with a picture of Paige hanging from the Queensbay Bridge with the headline: Woman Found Hanging From Queensbay Bridge.
“Goddammit!” Terrence Simms slammed the newspaper on his desk and rapidly started thumbing through his Rolodex.
***
Alex was lying on his sister’s bed watching Marilyn Manson’s No Reflection video on her laptop. Lexa sat at her desk thumbing through a photo album. The remorse-filled tears running down her face splashed down on the photo album Kimberly made for her and her best friend to share.
When Alex looked over and saw Lexa wipe tears from her face, his eyes automatically watered as if it was mandatory for him to share his sister’s grief.
“Kimber wouldn’t want you sitting here crying like this,” he said.
“Please, Alex, not now,” said Lexa. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a best friend.”
“I know how I’d feel if I lost you. I’d rather be dead. I would be dead.” Alex sat up and faced his sister. “Promise me that we’ll always be together,” he said desperately.
Her brother’s request forced Lexa to face her dreaded indecision.
Is it time? Should I try and cut the cord? If I do, what will become of Alex?
“Promise me,” Alex begged.
Lexa felt her brother’s anguish for her to stay overwhelmingly mix with her own anguish of not being able to leave.
“X-Man…I—” was all she could get out before being interrupted by the ringing of her phone. “Turn that down a little.”
Alex lowered the laptop’s volume and Lexa answered her phone.
“Hello?”
“What the hell’s going on?” Simms’s voice blasted through the earpiece.
“Uh, Mr. Simms…?”
The bedroom door burst open and Aunt Amanda and Uncle Claude rushed in.
“What’s wrong?” ask
ed Lexa.
Amanda, white as a ghost and clutching a newspaper, glanced at her husband before turning back to her niece. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. It’s Paige…”
Lexa saw the newspaper headline and the picture below. She dropped her phone and fell to her knees weeping as Simms yelled out from the phone, “Are you there? Lexa? Lexa! Are you still there?”
Amanda and Claude knelt down and put their arms around their devastated niece while Alex watched helplessly from the bed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DAMAGE CONTROL
Angels Gate Park was where the Magnificent Seven had always gathered to rest, relax, and reflect while downing a couple of six packs. Today the five remaining members were there to mourn. They sat drinking in quiet solemnity on the steps of the stone pavilion that housed the Korean Bell of Friendship, the park’s central attraction.
CK threw a newspaper down on the ground. “Paige would never commit suicide,” he said.
Bastian took a sip of his beer. “That’s what I told Styles.”
“You talked to Styles?” asked Lexa. “When?”
“This morning. Palmer and Cassie talked to her too.”
“She paid us all a visit earlier because we were the last ones to see Paige alive last night,” Palmer explained.
“Well, not the last one,” said Bastian. He shook his head and took another drink.
Lexa closed her eyes and placed her hands on her forehead in an effort to soothe her building headache. “What if she was murdered, like Kimber?” A moment of uncomfortable silence followed. “What are the police going to do to protect the rest of us?”
“Nothing,” Bastian snarled. “I asked Styles what steps the police would take if there was a connection between Paige and Kimber’s deaths, what steps she’d take to protect what’s left of us.” He finished his beer, got another, and opened it. “The bitch told me that Long Beach Police Department can’t provide round-the-clock security for every citizen who might be in need.” Bastian took another swig. “She said just to call her if anything else happens.”
“So what happened yesterday at Rob’s?” CK looked from Palmer to Cassie and back again.
“We were sitting down talking when Paige got a text message and all of a sudden she got up and left,” Cassie answered.
“Did she say who it was from?” asked Lexa.
Cassie shook her head. “No.”
“Did the cops check her phone?” Palmer took his personally engraved Zippo lighter from his pocket and nervously polished it with an initialed handkerchief.
“They said she didn’t have it on her,” said Cassie.
Bastian took out a cigarette. “Betcha it was from Storm,” he said, reaching over and snatching Palmer’s lighter from out of his hand.
“What was?” asked Cassie.
“The text she got before she ran out of Rob’s.” He deftly flipped open the lid of Palmer’s Zippo.
Palmer glared at Bastian. How dare he touch his sterling silver lighter?
“What makes you think that?” asked Lexa.
Bastian lit his cigarette and took a deep drag from it, then flipped the lighter closed and tossed it back to Palmer. “Forget it.”
“What about Storm?” Palmer pressed, using his handkerchief to wipe Bastian’s fingerprints from his lighter. “You think he still wants us on his staff?”
“I’m pretty sure he does,” said Lexa. “Simms told me not to worry and that everything should be fine once all of the negative press goes away.”
“Negative press?” Bastian echoed. “Oh, you mean Kimber and Paige.”
“I’m just telling you what he said.” Lexa took a pill from her purse, put it in her mouth, and snatched Bastian’s beer out of his hand. She took a healthy swig and then handed him back the bottle.
“So what should we do until then?” asked Cassie.
“Maybe we should all lay low for a while,” Palmer suggested. “Play it safe.”
Bastian snorted a derisive laugh. “Yeah? Well where’s safe?”
“How about my place?” offered Palmer. “We have security up the ass. Surveillance cameras, motion detectors, even a panic room. Besides, my parents are still out of town and I don’t want to be alone. How about it?”
Palmer glanced at Lexa. “You game?”
“She’s seeing her shrink later,” CK said.
Bastian turned a questioning eye toward CK.
“Yeah. After that I’m going to go home and call it a night,” said Lexa.
“What about tomorrow?” asked Palmer.
“She has a chess match tomorrow night,” CK replied.
Bastian leaned over to Lexa and whispered, “Does he pick up your laundry, too?”
Palmer shrugged. “How about you, CK? Wanna spend the night with me, no strings attached? Well, not unless you want them to be.” He gave CK a come-hither wink.
CK laughed. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m going to be on campus grading papers for Riggins all weekend.”
“Cass?” Palmer prompted with a sense of desperation.
“Sorry, I have to work on my thesis.”
Palmer went next to Bastian. “What about you, handsome?”
“No thanks. Besides, aren’t you having Double D’s over this weekend?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Who’s Double D’s?” asked CK.
Bastian snickered. “Delia Denton, a freshman who just made it into Pi Delta Pi.”
“Okay, I get it. Double D’s stands for her initials,” CK said.
Palmer and Bastian looked at each other, smirked, and simultaneously shook their heads and chorused, “Nope.”
Cassie giggled. “Sounds like a real sick chick.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Palmer said.
Lexa picked up her purse and set off for her car. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Guess I upset Miss Chaste Below the Waist,” Bastian said.
An instinctual protective rage erupted behind CK’s eyes. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” he said to Bastian. He took Cassie by the hand. “Come on, Cass, let’s go.” He guided her down the hill toward his car.
“Bye, guys,” said Cassie.
“Later,” Palmer said.
“Yeah,” Bastian chimed in. “See ya.”
When the others had gone, Palmer asked Bastian, “Are you serious?” with genuine surprise. “Lexa’s a virgin?”
“You ever been in her pants?”
“I’ve never been inside her house, let alone her pants.” Palmer looked toward the parking area. “You think CK’s got a hard-on for her?”
Bastian snickered. “Where’ve you been?”
“Mmmm, Lexa. Man, I bet you anything she’s a freak in bed.”
“The shy ones usually are,” said Bastian, raising up his beer bottle. “To freaks.”
Palmer raised his beer bottle and clinked it against Bastian’s.
***
Lurking unnoticed behind the seventeen-ton Bell of Friendship, the hooded figure watched and waited.
***
Lexa stood gazing at the flames in the fireplace of Dr. Cross’s home office.
“Paige was too full of life, and full of herself, to commit suicide. Besides, there wasn’t any reason for her to kill herself.”
“Maybe she did have a reason,” Cross suggested matter-of-factly, “some secret she kept to herself.” He studied the chessboard perched near the edge of his desk.
How dare you think you know my friends better than I do?
“No, you don’t know Paige. I mean, didn’t know. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.” Lexa bent down and stoked the burning wood. “Besides, even if she had wanted to commit suicide, she would never have hung herself.”
Cross finally made a move, one that threatened Lexa’s queen. “Why not?” he asked.
“Because it’s not ladylike, and one thing Paige went out of her way to be was a lady.” Lexa stared into the flames.
They’re still burn
ing, Alex! Mommy and Daddy are burning in my mind and I don’t know if they’ll ever stop.
“You didn’t like it much the other day when I suggested you weren’t ready to go out on your own yet. Did you?”
“No, I didn’t.” Lexa looked away from the flames, briefly studied the chessboard, and deftly moved her queen out of danger. “Your move, Doctor.”
“So it is.”
With a grin, Lexa watched her doctor sit in contemplation, strategizing his next move. With his eyes still locked on the chessboard, Dr. Cross said, “Maybe it is time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time you go out into the world alone.” Cross looked up into Lexa’s questioning eyes. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”
Of course it is. Isn’t it?
“Yes, of course it is.” Even to herself, Lexa’s words were soaked with doubt.
“It is?” Cross stared down at the chessboard. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
Several moments ticked by in silence.
Who am I trying to convince? I cannot go out into the world alone without breaking my promise to Alex and I can’t keep my promise and go out into the world alone. We can’t be together and apart at the same time.
The stark realization of her predicament swept her away like a tsunami.
Always and forever. Were those words just a childish saying, or were they an eternal vow evermore uniting us?
Lexa’s mind felt in danger of being sucked into the black hole center of the spiral that had haunted her soul since the death of her parents.
No, I’ve never lied. I’ve meant those words. Each and every time I spoke them, I’ve meant them. I’ve meant them with all my being.