“Oh, that awful movie, Philomena,” the nun cried out. “Everyone knows it’s full of lies, inaccuracies and exaggerations.”
“You forget. I was here. The man who found Philomena’s lost son, Martin Sixsmith? Nuns and the church blocked him at every stage. Thousands of records had been burned. Oh, that lying movie, Philomena. The United Nations investigation ruled what the Magdalene institutions did to girls and women and their babies was torture. And the church has yet to admit responsibility.
“You had better hope there’s truth in a heavenly reunion for those mothers and babies, because I’ll send you all there to see for yourselves before I’m done.”
“You’re crazy,” the nun cried, turning to retreat into the dark, hulking church buildings behind her.
“That was quite insanely mad of you,” Max said.
Kathleen’s breath heaved out of her chest. Her hands were bloodless and so was her face, white marble with the pink veins of the fading cat scratches etched across it. Her expression was as twisted as she was, her beauty gone.
“Well done,” he added. “You have certainly done your homework on Philomena, but I think you’ve spit in the baptismal font enough for today.”
He took her arm to lead her back to the car. She stumbled beside him, silent.
25
A Valentine Surprise
Jay Edgar Dyson, killed in the very building that threatened Electra’s financial survival. What a shock. Temple had assumed someone had killed him at the Araby Motel after she and Electra left.
Temple paced in her living room, alone. Louie had disappeared.
Just back from their happy, successful visit to her Minnesota family home, and she and Matt had parted on the elevator, both a bit disappointed. One couldn’t see the other’s point of view about Temple’s risky Araby Motel outing.
She picked up her cell phone and speed-dialed Matt’s apartment to make up.
There was no answer. She closed her eyes. Such a stupid thing to quarrel over. With all that had happened, of course Matt was hypersensitive about her staying safe. With Electra fearing for her livelihood, of course Temple felt obliged to be there for her.
Now maybe Matt wouldn’t be there for Temple. She had to admit it was an impulsive outing that courted bad outcomes. She’d apologize, if only…
Her doorbell rang. She ran to open the door, phone in hand.
“Matt! I was just calling you.”
He had his cell phone in hand. “Me too.”
“I’m sorry,” they said together, then laughed.
They bumped the wrists of their cell phone-holding hands and then hugged.
“I guess these smart phones are smarter than we are,” Matt said. “I just worry about you.”
“It was a stupid stunt. Electra was so upset and she would have gone alone. Now look at the mess we’re all in. Dyson dead. Police interrogations. Us quarreling.”
“We better drop these cell phones,” Matt said, steering her to the sofa and pulling her down on it with him. “We communicate much better face-to-face.”
“Umm,” Temple agreed a couple minutes later, stretching her formerly stressed-out shoulders and neck.
Matt gave her a last kiss and picked up his cell phone.
“Hey, I thought a cell phone wasn’t ever going to come between us again,” Temple said.
“This one has to,” Matt said with a smile. “While we were too worried and busy to check, Tony Valentine left a message. I just called him back. He wants a meeting as soon as possible, requesting your attendance.”
“My attendance? Matt! An agent wouldn’t ask a significant other along for a business meeting unless he had a huge offer. The network must have green-lighted your new talk show.”
“You think?” He looked a bit dazed. “I haven’t exactly encouraged them lately.”
“No, you didn’t. You had to drop your career plans to play the hero-decoy and make yourself a target for a psycho. Three a.m. ‘counseling’ sessions with Kitty the Cutter! I’m sure she pulled out all her seductive wiles.”
“I’m temptress-proof. She threatened you, Temple. I’d do anything necessary to keep you from harm.”
“Actually,” Temple said, “your being so noncommittal with the Chicago suits probably was savvy negotiating. Now. Where are my lucky shoes? I think I’ll be clicking my heels together and chanting ‘There’s no place like Water Tower Place’ soon.”
Matt picked her up and spun her around. “I’m ready to leave Las Vegas too,” he said, “but which are your lucky shoes?” He set her down carefully on her three-inch-high heels.
“Anything that coordinates with what I’m wearing when I’m with you. You know what?”
“What?” Matt smiled down at her.
Temple was glad to see that recent faint wince of worry had vanished from his warm brown eyes. “I’m going to celebrate the big deal Tony has for you by getting some new shoes at the Stuart Weitzman boutique in the Caesars’ shopping mall. Is that too extravagant?”
“Anything your big heart and tiny feet desire. Your stock of estate sale and resale shoes have earned some fresh high-design spikes.”
“It’s silly, but when you’ve spent your entire life staring into people’s shoulder blades in crowds, a spiffy heel assist is so esteem-building.”
“I’m sure Tony will be pleased to underwrite such a noble objective while collecting his percentage.” Matt frowned.
“What?” Temple asked in her turn.
“I let Kathleen’s taunts get to me, and upped the amount of my income via speaking engagements from Tony that goes to charity from ten to twenty percent. It occurs to me I don’t have a right to reduce my income when I’m not just me, but a ‘we’.”
“Gosh, you are a saint in the making.” Temple shook her head. “You can do what you want with your money, but including some animal causes among the charities would appease your shoe-hound fiancée. What a guy! Not only generous, but you want to honor your word made to an armed and dangerous psychopath.”
“How’d you know Kathleen was armed?”
Temple felt her mouth go dry. “I didn’t. I was speaking metaphorically. Armed with a gun even then? And you went back for more?”
“Not a gun. Straight razor. I only had to take it away from her once, when she got overwrought.”
“Unbelievable. You are one cool guy, but it’s time we got outa Dodge. Speaking metaphorically again.”
“I understood Kathleen. She had absolutely no power until she escaped the Magdalene asylum. She needs to flaunt it now. And she’s not here anymore. She’s off in the wilds of Northern Ireland, playing tag with Max.”
“Enough of that woman in our lives. I’m going to fetch my currently lucky shoes…the zebra-stripe numbers from the successful trip up north.” Temple consulted the large-face watch on her wrist. “And then it’ll be time to leave for Tony Valentine’s office. Lord, that’s a great surname for an agent. Every new gig is a Valentine gift.”
Tall, with a full head of taffy-white hair, Tony Valentine looked more like a classics professor than what entertainment agents had been called for decades, a “ten-percenter”…although nowadays a package fee of three percent could be charged on top of it.
Temple didn’t know how Matt had lucked out in getting a patrician-looking agent in a profession where agents were often regarded as crass, greedy and possibly crooked.
Then again, not looking like all of those things could be a license to steal.