THE HOUSE THAT VANITY BUILT Read online

  Carlene, on the other hand, with her curious smile, was something else. She had grown quiet, her mind elsewhere. I let it wander and returned with my questions for Amy.

  “You’re not from here, are you, Amy?”

  “No, but Jared likes that. He says I’m not jaded. He finds the fact I’m not all Hollywood refreshing.”

  I wasn’t surprised. This salt-of-the-earth innocent had spent her life making others happy—a rare commodity in Hollywood.

  “How did the two of you meet?” I asked.

  “Carlene introduced us. I’d just moved here from Carp.”

  “Santa Barbara,” Carlene corrected.

  Carpinteria, or Carp, as the locals referred to it, was a largely working-class, more agricultural community south of Santa Barbara. And much less glamorous.

  “Santa Barbara, then, but not really. Carlene thinks it sounds better for me to say Santa Barbara. Has a ritzier ring to it she says. But, the truth is, I grew up in Carp. My mom was a schoolteacher, and my dad—he died years ago—was a farmer. But then you probably already knew that. You being a psychic and all.”

  People always assumed psychics knew more than they really did, and I’d found it easier to let them think what they will, rather than try to correct their illusions. In truth, first impressions are really very shallow.

  “You came to the city to pursue your acting career,” I said.

  “I did. I always wanted to come to LA. Then last year, my mother died from a stroke. At first, I was lost. I mean, for a long time it was just my mom and me, and I didn’t know what to do. Then I thought, well, now’s my chance. My mom always said I was destined for bigger things. So here I am. I got an apartment in Beverly Hills. A job at Starbucks. And before I knew it, I was taking acting classes and making pumpkin spiced lattes.” Amy laughed. “Then one day, Carlene walks in and orders this salted caramel Frappuccino with extra foam, and things just happened.”

  Carlene smiled. “I work as a party planner, and I have a small matchmaking business on the side. When I met Amy, I couldn’t help but think she’d be perfect for Jared.”

  My eyes clicked back to Amy. “And are you perfect?” I asked.

  “Maybe not perfect,” Amy said. “But Jared says he loves me, and we have a lot in common.”

  I wondered about that.

  “Is he perfect?” I hoped my question might open her mind to her own wants and desires, if she even knew what they were.

  “For me?” There was that blush again. A glow of innocence that warmed the room.

  “Yes, you,” I said. “Is Jared perfect for you?”

  Wilson stood up. “Oh, give me a break. Why wouldn’t he be perfect? The man’s rich, famous, and heir to one of the world’s biggest cosmetics companies. If I could, I’d marry him.”

  I scowled.

  Amy paused.

  “I think so,” she said. “I mean, isn’t that what falling in love is all about? Finding someone who makes you feel special, growing together, and making it work.”

  Wilson scoffed. “In Mayberry, maybe. This is Hollywood, darling.”

  I pinched my lips and closed my eyes momentarily as though to shake the thought, then looked directly at Amy. “That is part of it, but love isn’t always perfect. There must be something about Jared that frustrates you? Maybe drives you a little nuts?”

  Amy shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. He’s really great.”

  “Nothing at all?” I sensed if I scratched the surface I’d find something.

  “Well, okay, maybe his allergies. He’s allergic to everything and has to carry an EpiPen with him all the time. He gets upset if he can’t find it. But other than that, he’s—”

  “I know,” I said. “He’s perfect.”

  I leaned back in the chair. Amy was a nice girl in the old-fashioned sense. Believed in love at first sight, was new to the city, and unsophisticated. Perfect for her friend Carlene, the opportunist. A matchmaker who had arranged an all too convenient pairing between Jared and Amy, which I sensed would result in a handsome finder’s fee. And Jared, Amy’s betrothed, who I only knew from what I had read, had to believe Carlene had found him the girl of his dreams. Someone his daddy would love, and would—if the rumors were true—enable him to inherit his trust fund in time for his thirty-first birthday.

  “I’m sorry, I wish I had good news for you, Amy. But I’m afraid I’ve no idea where your ring is. If it helps, however, I can tell you I don’t feel the ring is permanently lost.”

  Amy sat up and fisted her hands. The look on her sweet face, hopeful.

  “What I do think, however, is you have a severe case of bridal jitters, and, as a result, you’ve misplaced the ring. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it showed up again, and very soon.”

  “In time for the wedding?” Amy asked.

  “I see it back on your finger sooner than you might expect. As for those bridal jitters, if you feel the need, my door’s always open.”

  Amy stood up and gave me a big hug. At that moment, I knew she felt I had solved all her worldly issues. Unfortunately, I knew better.

  I watched from the doorstep as both girls walked back to their car.

  Wilson watched from the window. “That’s it then? You’re not going to work with her? You think she’ll find the ring?”

  “It’s already been found,” I said, “By someone close to her.”

  “Any ideas?” Wilson looked at me, quizzically.

  “Not yet. But I do know the ring is the least of Amy’s worries, and I’m going to need your help. That girl’s in trouble. She doesn’t know it now, but she will very soon. And when she does, you and I are going to have a job to do.”

  Chapter 2

  It wasn’t yet nine a.m. on Wednesday morning when I heard a heavy rapping at my door. It had a sound of desperation about it. I knew before I looked out the window it would be Amy.

  I opened the door, and the girl fell into my arms.

  “Jared’s dead!” she cried.

  “What?” I whipsawed my head in the direction of the study. Wilson stood in the doorway with an expression of complete surprise on his face.

  I looked back at Amy. “Come in, dear. Take a seat on the couch. I’ll be right with you.”

  I closed the front door, then took a side step toward Wilson. Out of the corner of my mouth, I whispered, “How could you miss such a thing?”

  “So now it’s my fault? Who do you think I am? Keeper of the crypt?”

  I rolled my eyes. “This shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Wilson. It doesn’t bode well for you.”

  “Please, do you have any idea how many voices there are on this side of the veil? It’s like the PA system at Grand Central Station around here. All of them trying to get a message through. What do you expect me to do, tune in to every one of them?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Only those connected to clients you’ve agreed to work with. I thought you understood that.”

  I left Wilson to ponder this missed opportunity and joined Amy in the living room.

  “I am so sorry, dear. What happened?”

  Amy looked up at the ceiling, her arms wrapped around herself as she gently rocked back and forth on the sofa. Tears welled in the bottom of her eyes.

  “I don’t know. Dr. Conroy called this morning. It must have been around three a.m. I was asleep when the phone rang.” Amy closed her eyes, and the tears began to fall down the side of her face. “He told me he was leaving the hospital. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was so confused. I can’t even tell you which hospital. All I remember was that he said something terrible had happened to Jared at his bachelor party, and he wanted to see me at the house right away.”

  I sat down in the chair opposite Amy and put my hand on her knee. She was trembling uncontrollably.

  I blamed myself that I
hadn’t seen this coming. Not that I always do—even psychics can be surprised. Admittedly, when Amy first told me about the wedding, I’d had my doubts. I didn’t see her walking down the aisle. I deliberately chose not to say anything about it. With new clients, I found it best to tread lightly around negative subjects until I knew them better, and I never brought up the topic of death. In hindsight, however, I had felt the presence of someone hovering protectively close to Amy. At the time, I thought it might be her mother, and didn’t pay much attention. Mothers who have passed often stay close to their daughters during times of great stress, and for a psychic, time—past, present, and future—could easily blend together, making it difficult to decipher the then and now. I never thought for a moment the presence I felt surrounding Amy might be the shadow of a death yet to be, and for that, I felt an uneasy sense of responsibility.

  “You weren’t at the Conroy’s last night?” I asked.

  “No.” Amy took a tissue from her bag and dabbed her eyes. “I was at my apartment in Beverly Hills. Jared and I...we...we don’t live together. Not yet anyway. We decided it’d be best to wait until we were married. Jared lives—” Amy sniffed and blew her nose. “—or lived, in the guest house on his father’s estate in Beverly Park. I was going to move in after we returned from our honeymoon.”

  Wilson took a seat next to Amy at the end of the sofa. We looked at each other. I felt a tremendous sense of responsibility to do something to help the girl.

  “Alright,” I said, “let me get this straight, Jared’s father called you and—”

  “I got in my car and drove over to the house. I had no idea what was wrong, but I knew from the sound of his voice something terrible had happened.”

  “And when you got there?”

  “Dr. Conroy met me at the door. He looked awful. Like he had just been run over or something. So frail and gray. I knew from the look in his eyes, Jared was dead. He didn’t have to tell me, I just knew.” Amy fisted her hand tight beneath her nose, her pretty face contorted with grief.

  I took another tissue from a box beneath the coffee table and offered it to her.

  “I lost it. I don’t know who grabbed who first, but we just stood there and held one another. Then Dr. Conroy took me into the great room, and we sat on the couch, I told him I couldn’t believe it. I had just seen Jared before the party. He was so excited. The doctor said Jared had had an allergic reaction to something at the restaurant. By the time his friends called paramedics, and they rushed him to the hospital, he was...he was...dead.”

  Amy blew her nose.

  “What about the EpiPen? You said he always carried one with him.”

  “It didn’t work. Dr. Conroy said it’s not always 100 percent.”

  I took Amy’s hand and held it in my own. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. I had just seen Jared before his party, and he was fine. I didn’t know what to do. I was numb. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and when I came back, the doctor was pacing the room. He couldn’t sit still. He said we needed to do something. He wanted to plan a memorial. The biggest memorial the city had ever seen, and he wanted me to do it. Next Saturday, he said. At the church where we were going to be married.”

  “Whoa!” Wilson put his hands on his hips. “Now that’s a new one. Asking the bride-to-be to plan her fiancé’s funeral at the same church she was about to take her nuptials. Got me!”

  Amy went on. “I couldn’t believe the doctor was talking like that. It was like he had pushed aside that Jared had just died, and we needed to move on. The whole thing, Misty, it’s like a nightmare. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up, and this is all nothing but a bad dream. But it’s not! Jared’s dead.”

  I had seen people react differently to the sudden death of a loved one. Some were in total denial; others so overwhelmed with grief they required months of counseling. And some, like Amy, showed up on my doorstep. There was never any accounting for how one should act or what one might say.

  “You’re both going through a lot right now. And I’m sure the doctor’s overwhelmed,” I said.

  “No, no, it was more than that.” Amy squeezed the tissue in her hands until her knuckles turned white. “When I told him I didn’t know if I could plan anything right now, he got angry. I’ve never seen him angry. The look in his eyes, it was like he was somebody else. I didn’t recognize him. He said he was going to call the police and demand a thorough investigation. That he knew people, people high up in the department, and he was going to get answers. All of a sudden, it was like he didn’t believe Jared’s death was an accident. That somebody wanted Jared dead, and he was going to find out who it was.”

  I took Amy’s hand. Was this the trouble I had sensed coming her way?

  “And did he,” I asked, “call the police?”

  Amy nodded. “He did. And just like he said, the cops came right over. They were there before sunrise.”

  “What happened when they arrived?” My eyes searched Wilson’s. We were both glued to Amy’s response.

  “When the cops came in, Dr. Conroy was inconsolable. He was sobbing one minute and talking to himself the next. The cops tried to calm him down, but then he’d start yelling and screaming like there was somebody else in the room. He insisted something wasn’t right about Jared’s death. That he wanted a full investigation, and he wanted the police to question everybody at the party. Including me.”

  “You?”

  “Yes, me. He pointed right at me, as though he had never seen me before, and called me a gold digger. He said he wouldn’t talk to me again until I had spoken to the police and told them everything I knew.”

  Amy’s face paled, her eyes pleaded with mine for answers.

  Wilson got up from the couch and went to the fireplace. “That’s it, the man’s insane. Who’d think she’d do such a thing? Just look at her. The girl’s clearly innocent.”

  I ignored Wilson.

  “Did you talk to the police?”

  “What else could I do?”

  “Do?” Wilson started to pace the room. “She should have called a lawyer, that’s what she should have done.”

  I narrowed my eyes, a reminder of the rules; shades weren’t to interrupt.

  Amy continued. “I didn’t think I could refuse. One of the officers suggested we go into the kitchen. He made me a cup of coffee, and we talked.”

  “What about?”

  “Mostly about Jared and our relationship. He wanted to know how we met. How long we’d been together. That type of thing.” Amy dabbed her eyes. “I was afraid he’d notice I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring and ask me about it.”

  I glanced at Amy’s empty ring finger. “About that,” I asked, “were you in the habit of taking the ring off?”

  “Not at first, but it got to be tight on my finger. Jared said his mother and I were about the same size, but lately, my fingers swell at night, and I—” Amy shook her head.

  “It’s alright, dear.” I patted her knee. “Did you tell the investigator you thought you had lost it?”

  “No. I haven’t told anyone. Just Carlene and you. Dr. Conroy doesn’t even know. I was afraid if the police found out, they’d think maybe I had stolen it, and based on how the doctor was acting, think even worse. That maybe I had killed Jared.”

  I scoffed. “That’s a ridiculous thought. Why would anyone think that? You were about to be the next Mrs. Jared Conroy. That comes with a lot of perks, my dear. If you were to kill Jared, you certainly wouldn’t kill him for the price of a ring, no matter how valuable it was.”

  “But I didn’t kill Jared!” Fresh tears started to roll down Amy’s face. “I loved him.”

  “Forgive me. I’m quite sure you did, and I can’t imagine why Dr. Conroy would think any different. He’s understandably upset. Probably in shock. In time, I’m sure he’ll c
ome around. You’ll see.” I wasn’t certain I believed my own words. I didn’t know the doctor, and without his being there, I couldn’t get a read on him. But the sudden death of a loved one brings out odd reactions in those closest to the departed, and I was anxious to comfort Amy.

  “I guess, but right now, I don’t know what to do.” Amy wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “After I finished talking to the officer, I went back into the great room to check on the doctor. He had made himself a drink, and he looked calmer. I told him I thought maybe I should go home, but he said no. He wanted me to stay. He insisted I shouldn’t be alone at a time like this, that we needed to support one another. I could go home if I wanted to get some clothes, but he made me promise to come back so we could begin to plan the memorial.” Amy shook her head as though she were trying to clear the vision from her head. “To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not comfortable going back to the house and staying with him. Not alone. When I left, I just started driving. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t want to go back to my apartment, and I don’t have many friends in town. You were so easy to talk to the other day, it just seemed right I come here. I hope it’s okay.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I said. “Have you spoken to Carlene?”

  Amy pushed her hair out of her face. “I tried to call her, but it went to voicemail. I know she had another event last night. She’s probably not up yet.”

  “Another event?”

  “A quinceañera, I think. She had planned Jared’s bachelor party at Mastro’s in Beverly Hills, but she didn’t go. I told her to call me as soon as she got my message.”

  I stood up and told Amy I would put on a pot of tea. I didn’t think she should go anywhere until she had spoken to Carlene and maybe had a plan to get together. What Amy needed was a friend, and Carlene, duplicitous as I suspected her to be, was as close as it was going to get.