The Woman Who Fell From Grace by David Handler Read Free Book Online Page B

Sloan, the sleaze-biographers would have been all over it by now.”
    “That’s kind of what I was thinking.”
    “Of course, I could ask around for you. Some of the old-timers might remember if there was scuttlebutt. Want me to?”
    “If you don’t mind.”
    “Not at all. It’ll give me an excuse to call them. Comfy down there?”
    “Aside from a lousy set of rental wheels.”
    “Possibly you’re a bit spoiled in that department.”
    “Possibly that’s not the only department I’m spoiled in.”
    We were both silent a moment.
    “I’d better get back to Elliot,” she said softly. “Hoagy?”
    “Yes, Merilee?”
    “What was her name?”
    “Whose name?”
    “The girl you met tonight.”
    “I … what makes you think she was a girl and not a woman?”
    “A woman can tell.”
    “Why, Merilee, if I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you were jealous.”
    “I’d swear I was, too.”
    “You never have been before.”
    “I wasn’t forty before,” she declared, sighing grandly. “And more important, neither were you. Sleep tight, darling.” And then she hung up.
    I undressed and climbed into bed. I was working my way through a collection of James Thurber stories, which is something I do every couple of years to remind myself what good writing is. I had just gotten settled in when I heard a car pull up in the courtyard outside. I turned out my bedside lamp and pulled back the curtain.
    A big Mercedes 560 SEL sedan was idling out there in the moonlight with its lights on.
    Two women got out, one tall, almost regal, the other short and thin. The driver pulled the Mercedes into the garage while the two women spoke briefly. Then the tall one went in the kitchen door of the east wing, closing it behind her. The other woman got into a red Pontiac LeMans that was parked there and started it up. The Mercedes’s lights went off in the garage. A man got out and closed the garage door and went over to the LeMans. He was stocky, with a heavy torso and short legs. He said something to the woman in the car, gestured for her to roll her window down. Instead she began easing the car out of the courtyard toward the driveway. He was insistent — ran out in front of her, waved his arms for her to stop. She wouldn’t. In fact, she floored it and made right for him. She wasn’t kidding around, either. He had to dive out of the way or she’d have run him over as she sped on down the drive. He landed heavily and lay there a moment. Slowly, he got to his feet and brushed himself off. He stood there watching the driveway for a long moment before he went in the house.
    I turned over and went to sleep, Lulu comfortably ensconced in her favorite position. I didn’t stay asleep long. She woke me at three, pacing the bedroom floor, whimpering like she had on the plane. I told her to shut up and come back to bed. She wanted me to let her out. These things happen. I did, after reminding her to stay away from the peacocks. Then I went back upstairs to sleep.
    I dreamt I was being smothered by peacock feathers.
    A steady tapping at the cottage’s front door woke me. Grandfather’s Rolex said it was seven-thirty. I padded downstairs and opened it. A covered breakfast tray was waiting there for me on the doorstep. So was Sadie, my new friend, who sat poised on her haunches a foot away, staring at it intently. Lulu was stretched out a few feet from her, staring at her staring at it. Lulu and the tray came inside with me. Sadie did not.
    There was a copy of that morning’s Staunton Daily News Leader to go with my scrambled eggs, country ham, grits, toast, juice, and coffee. The food was excellent. So was the news. Crime in Augusta County was down 11 percent over the past three months, according to Sheriff Polk LaFoon the Fourth. And veteran Hollywood actor Rex Ransom was definitely planning to attend the Oh , Shenandoah fiftieth-anniversary gala. Already my day was made. When I finished eating, I climbed into a hot tub and lolled