Part 24 (1/2)

CHAPTER 25.

A flutelike bell tinkled as Tess opened the door to Stressless.

Water burbled and circulated over s.h.i.+ny stones in a round fountain in the window and the walls of the small s.p.a.ce, painted a soothing celadon green, were decorated with framed Zen koans, photos of dew-laden blossoms on a branch against an out-of-focus background, and j.a.panese drawings of cranes, snowcapped mountains, and high-rising ocean waves with red j.a.panese characters running down the sides of each picture. A CD of tuneless music plunked on a stringed instrument played softly in the background. A square woven basket full of pamphlets about yoga cla.s.ses, AIDS, and women's health issues sat on the blond wood counter, which was obviously the reception desk, though it was unmanned at the moment. A light fixture and a fan hung from a stained, dropped ceiling, marring the otherwise clean and soothing effect of the s.p.a.ce.

There were no customers seated in the ergonomically correct chairs arrayed around a tatami mat in the waiting area, but Tess could see shadows moving behind a wood-framed standing paper screen at the back of the room. ”h.e.l.lo?” Tess called out.

A trim woman with finely lined skin, Western features, and a skinned-back, dyed blonde bun anch.o.r.ed by a chopstick came out from behind the screen and bowed. Then she smiled benignly at Tess. She was barefoot and wearing a kimono-style jacket and cropped black pants. ”Take a seat, why don't you, and just breathe for a while. I'll be with you shortly.”

Before Tess could reply, she slipped back behind the screen. ”Excuse me,” Tess called out. ”Are you Charmaine Bosworth?”

”Yes,” the woman's voice trilled, at once pleasant and reproving.

Tess could tell that she was clearly disturbing the vibe. ”I'm sorry, but I need to talk to you right now.”

The woman folded back one panel of the screen. Tess could see that there was someone lying facedown on the table, wrapped in a bathsheet-size towel. At first glance, Tess thought it was an adolescent boy whose bruised limbs were flaccid, lacking in muscle tone. Then Tess realized that it had to be a female. A boy would only be wrapped to the waist.

”I am unable to help you right now,” said Charmaine firmly.

”It's very important,” said Tess. ”I wouldn't interrupt otherwise.”

”This is a treatment session,” said Charmaine, raising her eyebrows and indicating, with an inclination of her head, the wheelchair that was folded against the wall. ”Surely it can wait.”

”It's all right, Charmaine,” said a small raspy voice from the direction of the ma.s.sage table. ”I'm fine for a few minutes.” The client turned her head to face Charmaine and Tess recognized the tiny woman on the table. It was Sally Morris, the publisher's wife. For one minute Tess felt fearful that maybe Sally would recognize her or her voice, but she rea.s.sured herself that it was unlikely. They had only met briefly at the airport and even though Sally had turned her head on the table, Tess was completely out of her line of sight.

Tess winced at the sight of the woman's wasted body with its a.s.sortment of bruises, some fresh and some faded to yellow. Probably from the kind of fall she had taken at the airport. Tess felt a pang of sympathy for the woman's pitiable condition. A desire to speak a kind word to the woman on the table crossed her mind, but Tess instantly dismissed the impulse. It was critical to her plan that she not be recognized. She was relieved when Charmaine Bosworth sighed and adjusted the screen so that Sally was no longer in view. ”What is the problem?” she asked.

On the way over, Tess had imagined the possible scenarios of this visit. Already she realized with relief that she was over the most daunting hurdle. Charmaine's cool gaze betrayed no sign that she recognized this intruder. Tess's avoidance of interviews and photographers had proved valuable. Charmaine had no idea that it was Tess DeGraff she was talking to, despite all the media coverage. Besides, Tess thought, Charmaine probably avoided the news to maintain her calm aura. This made Tess's mission that much easier. She knew that asking this woman for the home address of her estranged husband would arouse suspicion. And certainly, there was no normal way to inquire about Rusty Bosworth's blood relations. Tess had thought it over carefully and figured out a way to proceed. Now she put her plan into action. She began with an effusive apology.

Charmaine seemed somewhat appeased. ”That's all right. How can I help you?”

”You are Mrs. Russell Bosworth?”

”Well. Technically,” said Charmaine.

”My name is...Terkel. June Terkel. I work for a brokerage house in Boston. We are trying to locate Russell Bosworth.”

”What for?” Charmaine asked.

”He, and any siblings or cousins he may have had, have been bequeathed a brokerage account at my firm from a distant relation who never actually knew the family.”

”A brokerage account? You mean like stocks and bonds?” Charmaine asked.

”Exactly. We tried to reach him but found that he was no longer at your address.”

”We're separated,” said Charmaine. ”But Rusty's the chief of police. You can find him at the police station most likely.”

”Yes, I know that he is. I've left several messages with his sergeant, but your husband has failed to return my calls.”

”He's been really busy,” said Charmaine.

”I'm afraid he might be ignoring my calls because he thinks I'm trying to contact him about investing money or some such thing. That's why I decided to seek you out. I would prefer to speak to him away from his place of employment. This is really a matter I need to discuss with him privately. Also, I need his address for purposes of correspondence.”

Charmaine hesitated. ”He doesn't like people knowing where he lives.”

”Well, I can understand that,” said Tess evenly, though her heart was thudding. This was the critical hurdle. ”If you prefer, maybe you could contact him for me and tell him about our conversation.”

Charmaine seemed to give the matter some thought. ”No. I'd rather he thought I didn't know about it. Is it a lot of money?”

Tess suppressed a sigh of relief. It was going to work. She could see the calculations going on behind Charmaine's eyes. She and Rusty Bosworth were not yet divorced. Community property had not yet been legally divided. Charmaine wanted to give her estranged husband enough rope to hang himself. When, in listing his a.s.sets, he failed to mention having this account, she would be able to catch him in a deception in front of the lawyers or the court. Obviously Charmaine was trying to achieve a higher spiritual plane, but when it came to Rusty, she could be as ruthless as any injured spouse.

”It's a considerable sum,” said Tess. ”Of course, it may have to be divided among a number of people.”

”Oh no,” said Charmaine. ”Rusty has no other family. He had one cousin but he's...deceased.”

”I see. So Mr. Bosworth would be the sole heir.”

”Yes,” Charmaine said eagerly.

Tess fumbled for a notepad and pen in her purse, trying to conceal both the hope and the distress that this news caused her. No siblings. No cousins. It had to be Rusty Bosworth who had colluded with Lazarus. And it also had to be the police chief who had abducted her son. Tess tried to calm herself, so that her hands wouldn't shake as she wrote in the notepad. ”All right,” said Tess, ”if you could just give me that address.”

”He's renting a condo out by the Stone Hill Mountain ski area. Two-fifty-three B Millwood.”

”And his home phone?” Tess asked, trying to keep her voice calm as she wrote.

”He doesn't want me to have it,” said Charmaine.

”Really,” Tess murmured.

”I know. Do you wonder why we're separated?”

”Charmaine,” Sally called out softly from behind the screen.

”I'm coming, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

”I'm okay,” said Sally. ”I just need to turn over.”

”I'll help you. Just a sec.”

”I won't keep you any longer,” said Tess. ”Thanks so much for your help.”