Killer Cupid (The Redemption Series: Book 1) Page 2

  I could see through a watercolor haze – Cindy was on her knees beside me crying and clutching my hand. Mama was wailing, and Daddy was yelling instructions. I didn’t know why they were upset. No more pain, no more nausea. I felt so free all of a sudden. Giggling, I rose up in a whirl around the Christmas tree and looked down on everyone in the foyer.

  The watercolor haze gave way to silver white light, and I was transported to the most peaceful and beautiful place I’d ever seen. There were flowers everywhere and indescribable colors and scents. Light with a brilliance beyond words glowed on everything and everyone.

  Grammy was there to greet me. She didn’t look old, but I knew it was her. Her smile was as warm and loving as ever. I rushed into her arms. “I can’t wait to paint this place, Grammy.”

  “Not here. Not now, my dear. You’ve got some important work to do yet. There are souls at stake. You’ve got to go back. Cat the Prayer Warrior will help you.”

  “A cat?”

  But Grammy only said, “Remember, nothing can separate you from the love of God.”

  Chapter Two

  Nita

  Early on Christmas morning I tapped on Cat’s bedroom door. There was no answer, so I gently opened it and peered into an empty room. The light of the moon on snowy trees glimmered through the large windows, providing a halo of light over Cat’s desk, her overturned chair, and scattered papers. I turned on the light, and went to right the chair.

  I noticed the arm had pierced a paper with lyrics to a song I’d yet to hear. Forgiven was the title at the top of the battered page. Forgiven.

  I could forgive Eduardo, if only he’d live and come back to me. I’d loved him as long as I could remember. And I resented him for putting me through interminable, daily fear.

  I picked up the papers and returned them to the desk, then switched off the light. There was something in the miraculous moonlight outside that drew me to the window. The light shone over Alpine mountaintops in the distance. A new blanket of snow had fallen during the night, and I could see tracks heading off into the hills.

  I went back to my room to dress, then followed the tantalizing smell of cinnamon down the back stairs to the kitchen. Cat’s Aunt Maria was preparing her usual Christmas breakfast feast. The only thing out of the ordinary was her small computer tucked amongst the baking supplies on the counter.

  “Auntie?”

  “There’s no message, dear.” She wiped her hands on a towel and gave me a hug. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Some. But it looks like you never went to bed.”

  “No. It would have been pointless.” She pushed the swinging door from the kitchen to the sitting room, and we both saw Uncle Frederick asleep on the couch, his laptop flashing on the coffee table. “He hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s almost at the breaking point.”

  I pulled her back into the kitchen and into my arms. A few stoic breaths came out of her, and she was composed again. “Did you check on Cat?”

  “It looks like she went out for a hike with the dogs. I’m going after her. Some fresh air will do me good.” I headed to the mudroom to put on my parka and locate my snowshoes.

  “There’s a thermos with coffee and some warm nut breads.” Auntie handed me the backpack, and I was off into the chill of Christmas morning.

  I followed the tracks taking in the crisp air and marvelous light that guided me through a winter wonderland. Stille Nacht echoed in my head, more grand than the choir at Midnight Mass. I sang along, then fell into contemplation.

  Christmas had been forever marred for the entire extended family nineteen years ago when a plane crashed in the foothills of the Alps. It was certainly the worst time of our lives. And this holiday was one to rival it.

  Our hell began in earnest three years ago after my fiancé Eduardo, and Cat’s cousin David – his best friend – were recruited by an agency so secret it did not even have a name. At least that’s what we were told. They were off supposedly making the world a better place, and that was the important thing. That’s what we tried to convince ourselves.

  At first we were able to see them from time to time. But after an initial training period, evidently they went so deep undercover they assumed new identities, new lives, leaving their past completely behind. I suppose it was their idea of adventure. It was our families’ idea of a nightmare.

  For the past three years I had received a holiday audio message from Eduardo. His family also received an audio they would share. And Cat’s cousin, David, would record one for his family.

  All of us would gather together on December 15th, the day they would arrive. We listened to them repeatedly, and spent hours dissecting their content and meanings, always coming away with an aching longing for their return, but a sense that they were okay.

  This year David’s audio never came. Eduardo’s had arrived on the morning of December 20th – the anniversary of that horrible plane crash. He sounded tired, stressed, and humorless. Not the man I knew.

  If anyone would know what was going on, it would be Cat. Her near death experience in that disaster at age five left her with unshakable faith in God and amazing powers of prophecy and discernment.

  Unable to explain our saintly friend, Eduardo had long ago dubbed Cat, “Cat the Prayer Warrior,” with a sarcastic laugh. Her prayers grew more powerful through the years, and she would astound the family with her gift of prophecy. But as Eduardo and David headed off to the unknown, I increasingly believed Cat was engaged in a supernatural battle of good and evil. Today I wondered if evil was winning.

  Eduardo was in trouble. He had to be in deep trouble. Was David alive or dead? Did Eduardo know?

  My head started to pound. Cat had been silent these last ten days. That did not bode well. I knew she was in almost constant prayer, but what—if any—answers she got, she kept to herself.

  As Schatzi, the Bernese Mountain Dog, raced down the hill at me, I realized Cat was in our usual place—the camp we’d made as kids. Schatzi tagged me with her nose, whirled around in the snow, and tore back up to Cat.

  I wasn’t surprised to find her prostrate in prayer, a tiny form in the snow guarded by her elegant Samoyed. Schatzi did her best to distract him, but Cat’s devoted companion ignored her frenzy and remained at his post. A pitiful fire smoldered a short distance away, and her snowshoes were set in the snow nearby—a strange scene in the dawn of Christmas day.

  Cat’s prayer was critical now, more than ever. But I couldn’t let her freeze in the snow. “Cat?” I lifted her and dragged her toward a rock. Her soul was far away in the heavens somewhere, but her body willingly found the seat. I pushed away a cascade of damp blonde hair, and searched her blue eyes.

  Cat was still somewhere out there, her eyes riveted on something or someone above my head. She was my best friend since childhood, so I knew this was not a good sign. All I could do was hold her and wait until she returned to me.

  I stared out at snow covered trees sparkling in the first rays of sun, alpine peaks in the distance. It was a spectacular view that usually comforted me. But not today. Deep breathing was not working. Focus was becoming impossible. I tightened my grip on Cat’s hands. “Please talk to me.”

  There was no answer.

  I gripped tighter and hung my head. Patience, I need patience.

  I yelled at her. “What’s going on, Cat? Are they all right?”

  Cat’s eyes met mine – she was back.

  “Eduardo will be fine. Really. He will be fine.”

  I took a breath. “And David?”

  “God is faithful, Nita.”

  “Yes?”

  “He’s sending a white-haired girl to help heal him. I saw her hand on his heart.”

  “An angel?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  Debbie

  When I woke up, it was the day after Christmas, and I was in the hospital. Pain was back. Apparently I’d taken too many of Mama’s pills and overdone the purging. It caused more problems with my heart. I was
disappointed because I wanted to stay with Grammy.

  Despite all the discomfort, I knew I was different now. I was stronger, and I felt a strange sense of joy deep in my heart. It wasn’t only because Hill’s Gallery wanted my artwork.

  Cindy was at my bedside, as always encouraging me. Fortunately, Mama and Daddy weren’t there, so it was peaceful.

  The cardiologist examined me, and told Cindy and me the test results were excellent. He said I was making remarkable progress for someone whose heart had stopped.

  I heard Glori’s voice as she burst into the room. “I gotta tell you – I haven’t had another Christmas cookie since this whole thing happened.”

  “Ugh! Glori!” Cindy looked disgusted.

  The cardiologist scanned Glori from head to foot, and gave me a sheepish look as he excused himself from the room. As a swimsuit model-turned actress, Glori was well used to attention. She never acknowledged the guy.

  She put her phone on the mobile tray table and hung on it, wheeling it back and forth as she eyed me. “You’re looking really good for someone with a heart attack, hon. I didn’t really know what could happen. I didn’t know you could have a heart attack. I mean doesn’t almost every female in Beverly Hills stick their finger down their throat when they eat too much?”

  Cindy sighed. “No Glori. Not everyone. It’s called bulimia, and it’s a disease.”

  I could see tears welling up in Cindy’s eyes, and I patted her hand. “It’s okay. I’m fine now.”

  Cindy leaned over me and spoke with authority. “I don’t know how I let you get to this point. But this is it. I know you’ve been to doctors, and you’ve been to clinics. Obviously they couldn’t help you. But I’m not going to let you die, Debbie. I’m going to haunt you if I have to, but you’re going to realize your life is worth living. You’re important. You’re someone special. And we’ll eat every meal together if that’s what it takes.”

  I was so grateful for Cindy. She was the only living person that really cared about me. I chewed my lip, wondering what to say to her. Fortunately, Glori was never at a loss for words.

  Glori smiled her movie star smile. “Cin, the only thing you can do to make a difference for Debbie is hire a hit man to take out George Aldridge. That’s it. And I know you’d never do that. No matter how much you want to.”

  Glori had a point.

  ***

  Glori’s phone blared rock and roll, and she checked her text messages. Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Turn on the TV! Senator Everett – Tamara’s dad was murdered! Tamara’s dad! They found his hand washed up on the beach! That and a gun from one of his bodyguards! They never went to the Caymans for Christmas. They think the senator and five bodyguards were all murdered and thrown in the ocean!”

  My heart thumped. Tamara?

  Cindy grabbed the remote and flipped through to the news station. She was in tears glued to the TV, and Glori madly texted all her other friends. I took in the news reports as best I could. Senator Everett was a great friend of Daddy’s. They were always playing golf.

  Tamara was an only child, like me, and her parents gave her everything. She was a few years older than my friends, Cindy and Glori, and the two of them were almost five years older than me. Tamara traveled the whole world partying and going to fashion shows. She had an amazing life.

  The Everetts had told Cindy’s mom that they’d be in the Cayman Islands for Christmas, so they wouldn’t attend the Bainbridges’ party. But Senator Everett never made it to the Caymans.

  That was so gross. The senator’s hand washed up on the beach. He always had a bunch of bodyguards with him, no matter what. I think he was on a lot of high level committees in the Senate. The reporter said all the bodyguards were missing and presumed dead too. Wow. How could that happen to a U.S. senator?

  Glori read a text message in a dramatic voice. “Tamara probably wrote this same thing to everyone: ‘Dad’s been missing for days, and now we know he was murdered. I am in deep mourning. Please no calls now. Will be in touch. Love. Tamara.’”

  Our shocked silence was broken when a nurse with the voice of a buzz saw entered the room. I studied her face, but she ignored me and spoke directly to Cindy. “There’s been a mistake in room assignments. Miss Aldridge is being moved to the Mildred Wolcott suite.” Nurses and orderlies swarmed around my bed and loaded me onto a gurney.

  Glori was in one of her moods. “Oh yeah, I knew George’d be pissed that Debbie’s in just any old private room. No! We have to proceed to the Mildred Wolcott suite. La-deeeeeeeee-da!”

  Cindy’s whisper was loud enough for everyone to hear. “Glori. That’s enough.” She patted my arm to comfort me.

  They wheeled me and a bunch of monitors into the hall and left.

  Then Pastor Evans’ face filled my field of vision. “Debbie. It’s great to see you’re doing so well.” He was the pastor of the church I grew up in and had attended one week ago. He’d probably know what Grammy was talking about.

  I found my voice, and it was louder than I expected. “Where’s Cat the Prayer Warrior? I think she has a job for me to do.”

  Pastor Evans chuckled at me. “I’m afraid I don’t know Cat the Prayer Warrior, Debbie. But I’ll look for her.” He winked at Cindy and Glori, who stood there with their mouths open. I guess they thought I was crazy. I hadn’t told them about going to heaven and seeing Grammy.

  Glori said, “She’s delirious.” And the pastor nodded his agreement.

  I couldn’t let Glori get away with that. I looked the pastor in the eye. “Don’t listen to Glori. She’s a Hollywood actress.”

  Everyone just looked confused. Maybe I was delirious. I sure never said things like these before. I never had the nerve to say boo.

  Pastor Evans excused himself, still chuckling and muttering about Cat the Prayer Warrior.

  Cindy stood by shaking her head. “Cat the Prayer Warrior? Are you okay?”

  I chewed my lip.

  Glori never bothered to investigate my delirium further. Her eyes were back on her phone. Those striking, curiously blue-green eyes always had a determined expression. It lent a hardness to her even features, her pretty, heart-shaped face. She tossed her hair and looked up at Cindy. “You think they’re gonna have a big funeral for Senator Everett? Like JFK? I bet we’ll get invited. You think they’ll ever find the guy that did it?”

  I was feeling a little dizzy, and Glori wasn’t helping my situation. I looked to the nurse’s station, hoping someone would come and get me out of the hallway. There were two men looking at me. One was in a doctor’s coat, a strange mix of irritation and fear all over his face. He was shaking his head and seemed to be having a one-sided argument with a very tall man in a business suit.

  I thought he was probably in his mid-twenties, and an imposing figure –athletically built and impeccably dressed. He obviously had the upper hand in whatever disagreement they were having. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Maybe it was his air of confidence that made him so magnetic. I don’t know. But I started to sweat. He glanced at me with a hint of a curl to his lips, returned to his conversation, and then glanced over at me again.

  By now, Cindy and Glori had followed my gaze and focused their attention on the men. Glori pushed the IV stand aside to get a better look. “Yeah, I’d say he could revive any girl’s pulse, huh? Oooh maybe he’ll take off that suit jacket. It’s awful hot in here, don’t ya think? Hmm I bet there are some strong muscles under that jacket, and look at those big … strong… hands…”

  “Glori!” Cindy’s tone stopped Glori’s commentary.

  I tried to move my hand to wipe sweat dripping on my forehead – and hide my face in embarrassment that I was gawking. But my hand wouldn’t move. And I couldn’t stop staring.

  The doctor suddenly turned right toward us. Then Glori almost exploded. “Oh no, Cin! That’s pain-away Payne!”

  “Who?”

  Glori’s whisper was too loud and animated. “You know that plastic surgeon that did Kendra’s
nose job? I went with her to the appointments. She told me he comes on to all the good-looking women. And she told me he made his fortune in drugs! She told me never to tell anyone. Okay? You can’t tell anyone.”

  They were heading to the gurney now, and the man in the suit had fixed his soft brown eyes on me. Me! I was sweating profusely, and I knew I was blushing. I was so embarrassed.

  “Hello, Glori.” The doctor swiveled way too close to Glori. He was old enough to be her father.

  “Hey Doctor Payne.” She smoothly averted his attempt to hug her.

  He seemed to wilt under the stress of trying to impress her. “I … I know Miss Aldridge would be interested to meet David Henning—he’s one of our hospital’s kind benefactors – like her parents, George and Marion. And of course, Glori and Miss Bainbridge. I believe Mrs. Aldridge and Mrs. Bainbridge are co-chairs of the fundraising committee this year…” Dr. Payne’s awkward voice trailed off.

  David picked up the sweaty, shaking hand I couldn’t move. I thought I was going to die. Again. “Pleased to meet you, Debbie.” His touch was so gentle.

  I blurted out the lamest thing ever. “Are you from England?” I thought I’d melt. My stupidity was boundless when it came to making conversation—especially with handsome men. I wished I could blame it on drugs. But all I could do was listen to his words and stare into those soft brown eyes.

  His lip curled a bit more, but at least he didn’t laugh at me. “I’m from Germany, but I did study English at university in Britain.”

  “Germany.” I must have sounded like a nutcase in slow motion.

  He couldn’t contain a smile any longer. But it was a nice smile. Then the monitor started blasting. I almost jumped off the gurney, and David steadied me as nurses came running. Dr. Payne looked more surprised than anyone. I remember wondering if he was a real doctor.

  Then David was gone as they began fooling with the equipment. Dr. Payne was gone too.

  When we finally got underway with all the monitors and gear, I strained to see if David was around. He’d disappeared.