A Dead Sister (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) Read online

  That incident, and the punishment that followed, did not stop them from drinking. However, it did make them more discrete, or maybe the better term was sneakier. By the time Jessica turned twenty-one, she was bored with the whole idea of drinking to excess. Somewhere along the way, she had figured out how many calories there were in a beer or a Piña Colada. A binge just was not worth the price she would have to pay when standing on the scale a few days later.

  Kelly’s take on the whole thing was different and became only one of the many conflicts that emerged between them. “You know, Jessica, you can eat and drink what you want if you barf it up. That’s what dancers and models do.” At first, Jessica laughed. Surely she was joking. The whole idea was so gross that Jessica must have had a horrified look on her face. Kelly got ticked.

  “Everybody does it, Jessica. What’s the big deal? It’s not like you have to do it every day. Just if you want to have a little fun on the weekend and not worry about it, you know?” Jessica was not convinced. It just seemed easier to drink less. Besides, she was such a control freak that getting drunk scared her. After a few more minutes of fighting about it, Kelly brought the discussion to an end.

  “Whatever, Jessica, be a stuck up little “b”, I don’t care. Don’t blame me when you’re home by yourself because you’re such a drag, or when you’re a fat cow.” With that, she stormed off. She and Kelly avoided each other for about a week, until Laura insisted they kiss and make up. They never resolved anything, but moved on after a teary apology.

  She and Kelly also smoked pot for the first time together. Hiding under the high school bleachers where they had tried cigarettes, and where Jessica had had her first kiss from a boy. Kelly was always way out ahead of Jessica when it came to boys. She practically had to fight boys off, who were drawn to her like bees to honey. If what she said was true, Kelly wasn’t doing all that much fighting.

  Kelly was so much more alluring than Jessica or their other friends. As Frank Fontana so aptly reminded her, Jessica was “cute,” not stunning like Kelly. She was a “late bloomer” according to her mother and Bernadette, which meant nothing to Jessica as she threw a fit to wear a wonder bra. She wanted something that would add to her shamefully small bust, right then. Not later, when she was an adult and her life would be over anyway.

  “You’ll get your share, chica. You don’t want to go through life being falso, a fake just to fit in.” Bernadette advised, trying to admonish and reassure her at the same time. The thought of being falso didn’t really bother Jessica, fitting in mattered more.

  Her mother had also encouraged her to be patient and not worry so much: “Besides, if things don’t work out the way you like, there are plenty of good plastic surgeons around when you’re old enough.”

  Bernadette and her mother were right, of course. In another year, Jessica had filled out nicely, getting more than her share, in fact. That had another set of drawbacks, as she quickly learned.

  When the two of them were together, though, it was always Kelly, not Jessica, who drew the appreciative glances and comments from members of the opposite sex. Jessica tried not to let it bother her, but it did. Partly, it was envy about being overlooked. It was also a fear of losing Kelly as a friend. Her feelings were hurt when Kelly, enamored with some new boy, ditched her and Laura and their other friends. During her absence, they would talk about Kelly as if she were a dog, vowing never to invite her to go anywhere with them again. Of course, they never kept that vow, and soon Kelly would be back.

  The envy between them was not all one-sided. It was Kelly who first made Jessica feel self-conscious, and even a little bad, about being rich. The summer after their junior year in high school at St. Theresa’s, she and Laura and Kelly were all seated on the floor of Jessica’s bedroom in Mission Hills. Jessica was griping about some injustice imposed upon her by the unholy trinity, her father, mother and St. Bernadette, when Kelly suddenly let loose.

  “Oh my God, Jessica, what are you bitching about? You have it all, looks, brains, and money! Give me a break!”

  “I have it all? What do you mean?”

  “Just look at this room, Jessica. Do you really believe most people live in a palace like this? You’ve been in my room. Your closet is about as big as my whole room, isn’t it, Laura?” Laura looked down at the floor, then, nodded yes, slowly. Jessica had never given the size of Kelly’s room a moment’s thought. But how was that Jessica’s fault?

  Kelly was just warming up, egged on by Laura’s acquiescence. “How about the clothes you’re wearing. You take us shopping with you on El Paseo, but do you know where I shop when I go by myself or with my mom? It’s not Saks, I promise you. The underwear I have on came from Walmart, not Victoria’s Secret! Does that shock the you? I paid ten dollars for five pairs of panties sealed in a plastic bag, not ten dollars for one pair wrapped in pink tissue paper!”

  Jessica was starting to get ticked. “What do I care where you buy your underwear or how much you paid for it? What’s wrong with you? I don’t care about money.”

  “You don’t care about money, Jessica, because you don’t have to. You just assume it’s there because it is! You have no idea what it’s like out there for real people like me and Laura, who have to work for everything they get.”

  Jessica was getting angrier by the minute. “What are you talking about? I am going to work. That’s why I’m going to college!” By this point, Jessica’s seventeen-year-old face was flushed. Tears of anger welled up in her eyes, and her fists were clenched.

  “Okay, so rub it in. I know, my grades suck and I’m not going to get into any college. I’m going to be lucky to graduate from St. Theresa’s with you two. If I did get into college, who would pay for it, Jessica? Me! That’s who! My parents don’t have extra money lying around. When my grandma died, she didn’t leave me a trust fund. Fuck, I didn’t even know what that was until you mentioned it. I had to Google it. So, if I did go to college I’d pay for it.” The truth of what she was saying got through in a ruthlessly blunt kind of way. A rush of guilt and shame flooded Jessica, warring with the anger she felt.

  “I’m not trying to rub anything in. I, I...” Jessica sputtered.

  Laura tried to object. “Shut up, Laura. You know what I’m saying is true. If you weren’t trying so hard for a saint goody-two-shoes award, you’d say something too. You think you’re that Laura Ingalls girl living in a ‘Little House on the Prairie’, but you’re not. You’re Laura Powers living in a little house on the dump, not easy street like Jessica.” Kelly turned back to Jessica and continued her tirade. “How do you suppose I feel, knowing that I’m a charity case? How can I ever keep up, no matter what I do...” The steam finally ran out. Both Jessica and Laura were sobbing quietly. Kelly started to weep, too. The three of them sat in miserable silence for a little longer, until Laura got up on her knees and put her arms around both of them.

  “It doesn’t really matter,” Laura said over and over. “What matters is that we’re friends, that we stay friends.” That was Laura-the-peacemaker, doing her thing. She was the essential third leg, always propping up their unstable triad. Without her efforts, the three of them might have parted ways long before the end of high school.

  Despite the intermittent drama, they had been there for each other in important ways when they faced one teen trauma or another. At times they had fun, laughing until they couldn’t get a breath. Once, they replaced the usual morning blessing broadcast over the intercom with Jon Bon Jovi’s rendition of Keep the Faith. Another time, with other friends, they put all the picnic tables on the roof of the cafeteria. They toilet papered the campus on several occasions, and liberated the lab animals, some of which made their way, surprise, surprise, into locker rooms and the school cafeteria.

  At least some of the good times they shared were brought to them courtesy of Jessica’s prosperity. Whole days were spent at the spa. Alexis, who accompanied them on spa days and shopping trips, often coached them on how to use a product or accessorize
an ensemble they had bought that day. She also supplied them with first-run movies they could watch in the media room that Hank Huntington had built into the Mission Hills estate.

  Bernadette fixed popcorn, made lemonade, and baked cookies. Even that sometimes provoked Kelly’s intermittent tirade against Jessica’s privileged life. The fact that there was a Bernadette, waiting on Jessica hand and foot, was another source of resentment. All that ambivalence hovered in the background as they finished high school at St. Theresa’s.

  It didn’t get any better after that. Kelly did well enough in her senior year to graduate from high school with them. But she decided not to go to college, at least not right away, opting to get a job instead. The fact that both Laura and Jessica started college the following fall put distance between them. That distance was more than a matter of geography. UC Irvine, where Jessica enrolled to study environmental science, was only a couple hours away. Laura, who started college at the local community college, didn’t even leave the valley. Laura tried desperately to cajole Kelly into taking classes with her at the College of the Desert. Kelly refused, adamant that there was nothing in it for her.

  The last time Jessica ever saw Kelly, they fought. On New Year’s Eve in 1998, Jessica returned home, after completing her fall quarter in college. She and half a dozen friends, including Kelly and Laura, had gone out to celebrate. Jessica rented a limo with a driver who looked the other way while she and Kelly loaded it with food and drinks. They were all more than a little tipsy, having helped themselves to well-chilled Cristal as the limo driver took them from place to place that night.

  On their way home, following a round of toasts to the last new-year of the twentieth century, Kelly’s mood turned dark. “Let’s not forget to toast our good friend, Jessica.” A cheer went up. Jessica’s friends, in their slinky party dresses and stilettos, raised their glasses.

  Kelly wasn’t done. “Where would we be tonight if it wasn’t for you, Jessica?” Her glass was still raised in a salute. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I would have been watching that fucking little ball drop on TV with my parents and my little brother.”

  Heads bobbed in agreement. “Ooh me too!” someone groaned. A ripple of nervous laughter followed as Kelly took a sip then held the glass aloft once more.

  “Thanks, Jessica, for taking time off from college to save us from that fate!” The others followed, raising their glasses again. But with less abandon this time. “What about next year? Are you going to do the same thing next year and the next?” Kelly paused, downed the champagne in her glass, and refilled it.

  “How about tomorrow, what are you doing tomorrow? I have to go to work to try to make up for the tips I lost taking tonight off. You’re probably planning to go to the spa tomorrow. I am too, but I won’t be getting pampered. Are you coming to the Agua Caliente spa so I can wait on you? Will you leave me a big tip, Princess Jessica?” She bowed, spilling a bit of the champagne from her glass filled to the brim.

  “Oops! Sorry don’t want to waste the Cristal.” She licked her fingers and giggled, sipping to lower the level of champagne in her glass.

  It had grown quiet in the back seat of the limo. Jessica was too mortified to speak. The others, stunned, angry or embarrassed, were also mute. The silence didn’t last long. Kelly lifted her head, wobbling a little in her drunkenness.

  “No, no, wait, what am I thinking? That won’t happen. You have a spa practically in your backyard. You and your mom don’t even have to go outside the gates, do you, to get a massage or a facial? You just get on that little golf cart and ride over to your country club.” She gestured wildly, this time splashing champagne everywhere. She quickly refilled her glass again and drank it like it was water.

  “You know what I think?” Kelly asked, slurring her words. “I think you like taking us along with you so you can throw your money around. You’re just showing off again, like you always do.”

  “Kelly, shut up, you’re drunk. You’re embarrassing yourself and turning this into a downer for us.” Kelly’s head swung loosely in Laura’s direction. She glowered at Laura who had made the comment. Then she turned toward Jennifer Cox who had the temerity to utter a few syllables of agreement.

  “Yeah, Kelly you’re being rude,” was as much as she could get out before Kelly’s glare cut her off.

  Jessica, now past the initial shock at Kelly’s attack, fought back tears. She was suddenly completely pissed off.

  “Not this again! Kelly Fontana, I have had it. You are a mean, ungrateful bitch. I like doing things with my friends and I’ve got the money to pay for it. So what? I’m sorry it upsets you that I have more money than you do, but that’s the way it is. You can say no when I ask you to go places.” Kelly said nothing but glared sullenly as Jessica went on.

  “If you have to go to work tomorrow, that’s your choice. I tried to talk you into going to college. So did a lot of the rest of us. If you want things to be different, you need to do something different tomorrow. Quit bitching. Get up and go talk to somebody. Make a plan. Do something besides feel sorry for yourself and act like an asshole. That’s not going to change anything, except make me believe our friendship isn’t such a good idea anymore.”

  Kelly’s mouth dropped open. Jessica had never spoken to her in quite that way before. Before Kelly could say anything else, Jessica hit a button on the console and got an immediate reply from the front seat.

  “Yes, is there a problem?” the driver asked.

  “No problem, but a change of plans. We have someone who needs to get home right away. Can you take us to the address on the list for Kelly Fontana, please?”

  “Sure thing, hang on a second. I need to pull over and get my bearings, ok?”

  “No problem, do whatever you need to do.” The driver pulled over, recalculated the route, turned the limo around and had them back on the road again in no time flat.

  Jessica never took her eyes off Kelly, who held her gaze at first, defiantly. She finally dropped her eyes. Kelly mumbled, talking mostly to herself. “I know you don’t approve of me. I have to make a living.” Jessica didn’t say a word. Kelly continued to drink and mutter under her breath, “it’s not my fault what I have to do,” and “you snooty college girls don’t approve, that’s your problem.” When Kelly filled the glass again, she was still talking to herself, but Jessica was done listening. Kelly raised the glass, to no one in particular, before sucking down its contents.

  That gesture signaled the end of the conflict. Several of the other girls ventured a little chit-chat in low voices. Laura gave Jessica a nudge with her foot. When she looked up, Laura gave her a reassuring smile with a nearly undetectable shrug. She was not going to try to fix this. Not tonight, at least.

  When they got to Kelly’s apartment and the driver opened the door, it was as though a wild, caged thing were escaping. Kelly leapt from the limo, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne as she left. Jessica marveled at how graceful she was. Even while drunk and breaking the hearts of her friends as she fled into the cool desert night air. Kelly did not look back, but wagged the champagne bottle up and down, like a town crier swinging a bell. There was no cry. It was two o’clock, and all was not well.

  When the limo doors closed again, the relieved group burst into chatter. Jessica wasn’t paying much attention to who was saying what.

  “Oh, thank God!”

  “Good job, Jessica! She needed to hear that. Something is wrong with her!”

  “You did the right thing,” Laura said. “She’s done that to you before, I know. She’s done the same thing to me, more than once. Not about how much money I have, of course. How much I get away with at home. I don’t have a younger brother I have to babysit, blah, blah, blah. That’s in addition to ranting at me about what a chump I am going to college. If anybody is disapproving of others, it’s her.”

  “It’s about time somebody told her to shut up. She had no right to say any of that to you, Jessica.” That was her friend Nicky, joi
ning forces to support Jessica.

  “You’re always happy to do stuff that doesn’t cost a dime.” Laura went on in a reflective tone. “Some of my favorite memories are of us sitting around eating popcorn and watching TV, doing each other’s hair, or trying out some new eye shadow.“

  “How about those great parties at Uncle Don and Aunt Evelyn’s house where we all brought something for the BBQ and a dish to pass?” Jennifer added.

  “Those were great parties, especially when Aunt Evelyn made her Coca-Cola sheet cake. That was so good, wasn’t it?” Shannon asked.

  “Yeah and it didn’t cost a thing except for a few extra laps around the track or in the pool,” Laura offered.

  “A few, are you kidding?” Jessica interjected, finally climbing out of her funk. “You must not have eaten as much of that cake as I did! I had to run my legs off and swim like a maniac after one of those parties.” Several of her friends giggled.

  “You mean you didn’t just puke it back up?” That question, from Shannon, evoked another round of giggles.

  “Oh my God, did Kelly tell you to do that, too? That is so gross. There is definitely something wrong with that girl!” Jennifer said, with others nodding agreement.

  “Maybe there’s something wrong with me too, because I am starving.” That was Laura again.

  “Me too,” someone else chimed in, “stop talking about that cake.”

  Jessica flew into action, hitting the intercom button again.

  “Yes, what’s up?”

  “Sorry, but there’s been another change of plans, we need food. We’re desperate. Is there anything open this early on New Year’s Day?”

  “Nothing fancy, but maybe Denny’s or IHOP. You want to swing by one of those places?”

  “How does that sound?”

  “Pancakes, yum!” Laura responded. The rest of the still-tipsy bunch agreed. Their long-suffering limo driver swung the car around again, heading for the nearest IHOP. He earned a huge tip that night. Joining them for pancakes, he turned out to be quite a storyteller. He held them spellbound with tales of even more bizarre evenings than their own. Some, which involved celebrities, seemed familiar to Jessica: the stuff of urban legend, perhaps. It was great to hear them told as eyewitness accounts, and in hilarious fashion. Near dawn, they each returned home stuffed and exhausted. The memory of Kelly’s tantrum faded away in the wake of pancakes and conviviality.