been anybody’s mom’s house. Part of me cringed to be walking across the rug in my dusty boots, expecting to get smacked upside the back of the head for it.
Rebecca escorted me to the room on the left, where two other women were seated on the worn sofa. I recognized Gretchen’s mother, sitting with her back ramrod straight, her face severely composed to hide her grief. The other was lying with her head in Patty’s lap, and sat up when I entered, brushing her blond hair back out of her face and hastily rubbing the tears off her cheeks. Gretchen’s sister. Older than the picture on the mirror, but I’d have known her anyway. The resemblance to Gretchen was eerie.
It occurred to me as I went to introduce myself that I didn’t even know Patty’s last name. I settled for “Ma’am. I’m Jesse Dawson.” Patty stood to shake my hand, offering me a smile because it was the polite thing to do. “We haven’t really met, but I saw you the other day at the hotel.”
Patty nodded. “I remember. You’re fairly new to her employ, yes? I don’t remember seeing you before.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve only been here a week.” Christ, really? A week? Not even that. Five days. So much chaos in just five days. “Um…may I sit?” When she nodded, I found a place on a small ottoman that had seen better days. I sat gingerly, afraid the whole thing would collapse under my weight.
“Would you like some coffee or something?” It was an offer made out of etiquette, not any real desire to see to my comfort. Still, the thought of caffeine did sound suddenly enticing.
“Um, yes please. Black.” Rebecca disappeared into the kitchen. We all sat in awkward silence, looking at anything but each other, until I realized that I was about to be hypnotized by the pattern on the carpet. The power of Gretchen’s souls lingered. “Um…I just wanted to stop by today to tell you how sorry I am.”
Patty seemed to relax a bit, then. Condolences, those she was prepared to deal with. “Thank you. If you leave your number, we’ll make sure we get details of her services to you, once they’re decided.” The little sister hiccupped at that, biting back a sob.
I shook my head, my hair falling down around my face. It was easier to look at the carpet, than at this woman. I’d failed her too. “No…I mean, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her. I was with her. I tried…I should have tried harder. I should have done…something.”
The feel of Patty’s hands as she took mine in hers surprised me. Rough from a life of washing dishes by hand, I could almost taste the lotion she’d put on. Jasmine. I forced myself to look up and meet her eyes.
“Gina was a stubborn girl. Once she’d put her mind to something, there was no changing it. Even…even this. The police told me she hurt one of her other bodyguards last night. I don’t know that there was anything else you could have done, if that was her aim.” Her voice was steady, her blue-gray eyes clear. Behind them, I could see the agony she was so carefully holding in check. No mother should have to bury a child.
I turned my hands to grasp hers instead, searching for the words to explain the unexplainable. “I came today, because I wanted you to know that she was a good person. What she did…I don’t know that I can ever explain it to you, fully, but what she did, she believed she was doing for the greater good. In her mind, it was a sacrifice, not a suicide.”
Patty’s brows creased in puzzlement, the first emotion I’d really seen from her. “I don’t really understand.”
“And I can’t explain it any better. But I know that she was a good person. I just need you to know that, too.”
The older woman smiled a little, and I caught the first hint of tears in her eyes. “I knew that already.” She patted my hands, and sat back on the sofa.
I stood then. I wasn’t sure there was anything else to say. “Thank you for having me in your home.”
“Thank you for coming.”
I passed Rebecca in the entryway as she returned with the coffee. She gave me a stiff nod, and seemed relieved just to see me departing.
“Wait!” It was Gretchen’s sister who caught up to me, stopping me before I could open the door. “I’m…I’m Chelsea, Gina’s sister.”
I nodded. “I saw pictures of you.” She was twenty-two, if that, and just as stunningly beautiful as her sister had been. Younger than Gretchen, but old enough to be getting married, apparently. I saw the flash of the engagement ring on her hand.
Chelsea hesitated a moment, debating on whether or not she truly wanted the answer to the question she was about to ask. I’d seen that look before, on a lot of people. “Did she…did she say anything? About me or Mom, I mean? Before…”
“She said she wanted you to all be safe and happy. She said you were going to make a beautiful bride.” A good man shouldn’t lie, but when Chelsea smiled through the tears that spilled down her cheeks, I couldn’t feel bad for it. “She was very proud of you.”
“Thank you.” After another moment’s hesitation, she hugged me with one arm, then darted back into the living room.
Outside, there seemed to be some kind of standoff between Ivan and the cameras. The big man leaned against his car, arms crossed over his broad chest, like he was just daring one of them to snap his picture without his permission. For their part, they seemed to be pretending he didn’t exist, except for furtive glances in his direction.
As I walked across the lawn, one of the photographers tried to jump into my path, only to have his camera fizzle out in a shower of sparks and the smell of burning electronics. I raised a brow at Ivan as we got into the car, and he gave me a flat look in return. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“I have no idea what you are to be talking about.”
Our next stop took us back to Century City. Apparently, we were expected, because the cute little receptionist went pale and reached for the phone the moment we appeared. Ivan gently placed his big hand over hers, stopping her in her tracks. “
After a moment, she nodded with wide eyes, and scampered for the elevator on her spindly high heels.
“You totally have to teach me that,” I muttered, and the big man snorted.
