Smaragdus

Dallas, two years ago

“Excellent photos, Therese,” Genevieve complimented her, examining the blown-up pictures of Kathleen Morra’s flamingo clip on the screen of her laptop. “You can see the tiniest details in all of these.” Lady Cantrell had arrived at Dallas only two hours prior, but she wasn’t one to waste a single minute, be it business or sex – or both.    

“That was the point, wasn’t it?” Therese poured herself a drink from an open bottle of vodka that stood next to the champagne cooler. She ignored the flute of bubbly Genevieve had put for her on the nightstand. Sitting on the bed her back against the headboard, Therese pulled the covers up above her naked breasts.     

“How long do you think it’ll take you to wrap things up?” Genevieve neglected to pay attention to Therese’s irritated reply. “Dannie should be done pretty soon when he gets hold of these. He’s got the preliminary work ready. It’s all just fine tuning from now on.”

The vodka was almost warm, but Therese swallowed her mouthful anyway. “I’ll do the swap as soon as I have the replica, so maybe a week or so.” She had been entertaining Kathleen for several weeks now, and she was anxious to get the job finished. There was something about the older woman that kept jamming her radar as far as being an icy cold professional was concerned. Therese had started to enjoy Kathleen’s company, which had nothing to do with sex but everything to do with finding her a caring and a nurturing human being.

“Maybe we could make a trip together,” Kathleen had said a couple of weeks earlier. “I’d love to take you to Europe, to give you the old-fashioned Grand Tour.” Noticing the curious gleam in her young companion’s eyes, she had gladly elaborated on her charming idea. “The young English elite used to spend up till four years traveling around the continent, learning about different cultures through first-hand experience.” She had glanced at Therese, hoping she would find her still intrigued by her proposition. “We could stay abroad for a year or two, if you’re up to it … “ Kathleen had suggested cautiously. “I’m sure I still have a few good ones left in me.”  

Two years in Europe. The thought had appealed to Therese. To see Paris, Rome, Naples and Florence was one thing, but to get away from Genevieve was definitely an added bonus. Therese had allowed herself to daydream about crossing the English Channel from Dover to Calais the old-fashioned way. Paris with someone who actually cares for me.

The exotic taste of Kathleen’s descriptions of Herculaneum and Pompeii had lasted all the way back home to Dannie. Seeing him busy at work with the replica had promptly deflated Therese’s dreams. I am nothing. I don’t even have my passport. Mine is the reverse Midas touch.   

“A week I can live with,” Genevieve accepted. “But don’t get sloppy with this one. I hear she’s a smart lady who rarely leaves her valuables unattended.”

Therese frowned at her remark. “I’m never sloppy. When have I ever let you down?” To get a word of encouragement or appreciation from Genevieve was like drawing blood from a stone. Stone, yes.    

Carol returned to work the following Monday. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but the real reason for her unease surprised even herself. Carol wasn’t nervous about bumping into Lady Cantrell. She was antsy because of Therese. Having told her about the dinner, Therese was bound to ask her if the evening had been a success. What would she tell her? A part of Carol wanted to be excruciatingly honest with Therese, and it confused her. “I got exceedingly drunk with Lady Cantrell and can’t remember much of anything,” Carol imagined confiding to Therese. She couldn’t say something like that, yet she wanted to. Why do I want to level with her? What does any of it has to do with Therese?    

“Mrs. Aird!” A familiar voice stopped Carol right before she was stepping inside the elevator taking her up to the administrative floor. Richard Semco strode across the hall, a smug smile lighting up his broad features. “May I escort you to your office? I have something for you.” He halted and waited for a permission to join her in the steel cubicle.

“Of course, Richard,” Carol replied, keeping the steel doors from sliding shut before he got in. She didn’t find it necessary to pry what the nature of his business was, but she did notice him carrying a small paper bag with him.

Once they were securely inside Carol’s office, Richard set the bag on the conference table and reached in to take out a small cardboard box. He opened it and raised his find up in the air. What looked like a small silver key dangled delicately in a thin chain. It sparkled faintly against the security chief’s chubby palm.

“This is the key I told you about.” Richard Semco looked very pleased. “It’s time you start wearing it, Mrs. Aird. Let me help you put it on.” Without further warning, he walked behind Carol and fastened the chain around her slender neck. “It’s activated. Any attempt to remove it will set off the main alarm from now on.”

Carol was overwhelmed by his straightforwardness. “You could have given me the heads up before setting to do what you just did.” She didn’t sound too happy about it.

“Am I interrupting something?” Therese was standing in the doorway. The scene that greeted her inside Carol’s office didn’t exactly appeal to her. Richard was lingering far too close to her boss.

“No … please, come in,” Carol stammered. “Richard was just explaining how this extraordinary … umm … pendant works.” For some inexplicable reason, Richard Semco felt the need to straighten Carol’s collar before he took a step back. Therese, on the other hand, felt the need to wring his neck.   

“What’s so special about it?” Therese mumbled her question. She kept glaring at Richard whose face was turning as red as a tomato.

“It’s the key to the display case where the centerpiece is going to be at,” Carol explained in her most carefree manner.

Therese approached Carol, and when she was quite close to her, she picked the key gently up. The contact the tips of her fingers made with the exposed skin startled Carol. The gesture was both natural and unexpected, signifying a closeness they had yet to share.

“I’ve seen places keys have been hidden at, but none as lovely as this one,” Therese murmured, admiring the smooth décolleté instead of the small silver object. Her remark might not have been meant to anyone’s ears, and maybe she hadn’t even thought of saying it out loud, but Carol was close enough to register the compliment. Not knowing whether she should acknowledge what she had heard or not, Carol acquiesced to glance at Therese. Her curiosity being sated with an earnest look back, Carol blushed up to her ears.

Richard’s nervous coughing caught Therese’s attention first. She backed off, reluctant to let the key fall on its human cushion. ”Well … I think my job here is done,” Richard said. What he had just witnessed was evidently giving him a particularly hard time.

”Thank you, Richard.” Carol bounced back, her face assuming its normal color. Only when the security chief had all too willingly exited her office, did she dare to turn to Therese again. ”Was there something you wanted … to discuss with me?” Her arms akimbo, Carol’s stance was challenging.

”Yes … ” Therese started, surprised by Carol’s sudden gutsiness. Instead of a woman flustered by recent lapses in her short-term memory, she was now meeting a feisty one. Carol wasn’t as fragile as she had at first thought her to be; in fact, she didn’t seem weak at all. A bit clueless, maybe, and unaccustomed to the ways of the underworld, but all in all she cut an impressive figure in her dignified defiance to dwell on confusion. Or at least so it seemed to Therese who at the moment became more and more interested in the other fine figure Mrs Aird cut – the one she had had a distinct pleasure of gawking at at the night of Carol’s altered state.

”Quit staring at her boobs!” Abby had hissed at Therese while they had been busy undressing unconscious Carol in her bedroom in Brooklyn. Therese had found Abby’s reproach quite unnecessary, and it had ticked her off big time.

”I WASN’T LOOKING AT HER BOOBS,” Therese had growled back. ”I was only making sure they … umm… slipped into where they were supposed to … ” After careful consideration she had picked up a black lace babydoll from Carol’s drawer for her to wear, and Therese had simply needed to adjust it properly on her, that’s all.

”And you just had to choose the sexiest piece of lingerie for her to don, too … ” Abby griped, annoyed. She had never seen the said garment on Carol, and the thought of witnessing it grace her employer’s sultry body now was troubling to say the least. There were, after all, some things one wished to take pleasure in only when all the concerned parties were – present.

”It looked … comfy … ” Therese murmured, embarrassed by her weak argument.

”And that is exactly why people buy FUCKING LINGERIE,” Abby continued mercilessly. ”Because it's SO COMFY.”

Carol’s questioning stare cut Therese’s rapturous reminiscing short. ”Yes, I did want to talk to you about something … ” The memory of Carol’s voluptuous curves filling the black babydoll perfectly wrecked the rest of her sentence.

”So what is it?” Carol was starting to sound impatient, and for a minute Therese couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mind was consumed by the different ways in which the thin lacy fabric had folded against her boss’ contours, how Carol’s skin had seemed to glow just beneath the hem of the deliciously sinful attire.

This had happened way too many times lately. No matter how cunning she had been behind Carol’s back, in direct contact with her Therese had repeatedly dropped the ball. Grasping at straws, Therese attempted to save herself by blurting out something – anything – insignificant, but even words were against her this time.

”Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Dallas, two years ago, five days after Genevieve’s visit

”Beth has prepared us a feast,” Kathleen Morra stated, ushering Therese to the dinner table. ”I especially asked her to make your favorite foods … ” Smiling, Kathleen was happy to register Therese’s surprise. ”Yes, darling, I have paid attention.”

Seeing the antique table so immaculately set, yet the shiny silver bowls overflowing with perfectly crisp fries, fluffy onion rings and other lovingly made fast food was both comical and heartbreaking to Therese. The enormous lump in her throat was enough to bring tears in her eyes, when she took her seat at the table. Therese knew it was all just for her, and as a gesture so typical of Kathleen who always thought of her, always put Therese’s needs ahead of her own. Why Kathleen did that was unfathomable to Therese, for she had never known such kindness, let alone love that didn’t seek its selfish gratification.

To have that kind of attention had made Therese greedy for more, but it had also had another kind of effect on her. While she embraced what was being lavished upon her, Therese wanted to tear it all apart, too. Kathleen’s affection had reinvigorated her existence as if a healthy organ had been transplanted inside of her. Yet the rest of her core was somehow hell-bent to treat the newcomer as an unwelcome intruder, her old self rejecting what could have been the blossoming bud of her evolving one.

Picking up strips of fried potato out of an ornamented bowl felt suddenly like an ordeal as if the sheer movement of her hand was too hard and complicated. Therese stopped eating, the pile of golden longs appearing seemingly untouched. She was running out of time, and the last thing she was supposed to be doing was stuffing her face with fries, Therese thought.

Genevieve expected her to fly back to New York tomorrow. ”You’ve had your week. Get the damn clip and clear out.” Therese had ended the call without another word, but she had been all too aware of what her situation was. She faced an impasse, a dead end, and no amount of talk about Europe, of any sweet escape, could turn her reality into something it was not. She had to make her move, and she had to make it tonight.

Something in the way Therese chose to leave her favorite food alone must have alarmed Kathleen, too, for she went out of her way talking tirelessly about the future she had envisioned for the two of them. Every word, every new sentence, that dropped out of Kathleen’s lips had a purpose, a promise as well as a goal. Therese listened to her as long as she could stand it, and when she finally couldn’t, she shut her benefactor’s mouth with her own.

The tender night, their last, was short, teeming with second thoughts. The air was stuffy, the doors of the balcony remaining shut and keeping the darkness at bay. When Kathleen finally fell asleep, Therese was still very much awake. Quietly, she got out of the bed, her mind focused on seeing through what she had initially set out to do.

I am what I am, and my life is not my own. Opening Kathleen’s jewelry box, Therese drew a hasty breath to convince herself of what was inevitable, what needed to happen. She had fetched the replica, and all she had to do was to take out the real one and replace it with Dannie’s fake masterpiece.

”What are you doing?” Kathleen Morra’s question pierced the silence like a lone arrow hitting Therese in the back. Slowly, she turned to face the older woman. When she thought about answering her, nothing came out. Every lie, every possible fabrication, sounded not only dull but felt excruciatingly heavy, too.     

Why bother? Therese knew the truth was written on her face, and for a while she was almost happy that it was all over now. Everything was finally over for her.

”Had you only asked, I would have given it to you.” Kathleen Morra looked older than her years, her shadowed self shrinking in the opposite corner of the dim room. ”I would have given you everything.”

It was only then when Therese realized that she had been holding the flamingo clip in plain sight all along. The stupid bird appeared to be fluffing its brilliantine feathers as the moonlight hit its uneven surface. It took no more than a second for Therese to understand the agony Kathleen drew from her deception, but that blink of an eye soon grew into an eternity she would never be able to put out of her mind.

When Therese came back to her senses, Kathleen was gone. She hurried after her, for now she knew how to explain and beg for her forgiveness. She would tell Kathleen all about her wretched childhood, about Genevieve, and then she would turn herself in.

Therese followed Kathleen back to her bedroom, but the older woman was nowhere to be found. Only the curtains in front of the opened doors to the empty balcony billowed in the night air.