Foxy Roxy Part 25

Loretta began shaking her head before Roxy stopped talking. "I practice elder law. When Nooch is ready for a nursing home, he should call me."

"What about being a character witness?"

"In your best interests, I should keep my opinions of Nooch to myself."

"You'd be a big help, Lo."

"You don't want to hear what I think about your sidekick. Tonto he ain't."

"It's not what you'd say that's important. Just show up. You'll make a good impression on the judge. As long as you're not hot flashy. C'mon. Wear your red suit. The one with the slit in the back of the skirt."

Loretta went into the bathroom. Through the door she said, "Don't you have work to do? Surely there's some other weak-minded soul who needs your help today."

Disappointed, Roxy grabbed the doork.n.o.b to leave. But she stopped. Loretta's choice of words triggered an idea.

Suddenly she remembered a weak-minded soul who might buy the statue.

Loretta stuck her head out of the bathroom, a mascara wand in her hand. "You okay?"

"Terrific," Roxy said. "Gotta run."

17.

With Malibu Barbie watching, Arden made an overseas call to an old boyfriend.

"Arden!" Tiki Papadakis cried warmly. "How often I think of your funny narrow bed at Brown! Do you still make that little snore in your nose when you sleep, I wonder?"

"h.e.l.lo, Tiki." Although the memory of his golden shoulders was still quite powerful in her mind, she attempted to divert him back to civilities. "Is the weather warm in Athens?"

"Glorious. When can you come? My family's house on Mykonos is available this weekend. Bring sunscreen. You haven't been topless since senior year, have you, my blus.h.i.+ng little American?"

"That's a sweet invitation, but I'm sorry, I can't get away right now. I'm swamped with- Well, listen, do you remember me telling you about my grandmother's garden?"

"With the sculpture, early cla.s.sical period, perhaps a Hercules or a gem from Olympia. It had a pleasing angle of the hips and shoulders-quite unusual. Yes, of course I remember."

Arden avoided looking at Barbie, who was no doubt staring at Arden with deep disappointment for forgetting how perfect Tiki's memory could be, particularly where art was concerned. His mind was the proverbial steel trap for details-dates, artists, materials, everything. He'd grown up in a family of museum folk and studied anatomy and painting at Brown-emphasis more on American female anatomy, of course. Arden had a vague memory of sketching Dodo's statue for him once, with the Rhode Island moonlight streaming in her window.

"Uh, yes, Tiki, as a matter of fact, it's that statue I'm calling about. You see-"

He crowed with pleasure. "I'm delighted, Arden! Your family is ready to give it back!"

"Actually, I'm just hoping to learn a little more about-"

He wasn't listening. "I can be on the next plane. I work with my uncle Christos now at the Ministry of Antiquities. Oh, he'll be overjoyed! It will be a coup for us to recover such a masterpiece!"

"It's not exactly in my possession at the moment-"

"No? Well, we'll get it for you. We have the power to seize Greek property now, did you know? Well, at least we can kick up a fuss, draw attention. International scrutiny, you see. It's as simple as alerting Interpol, and they take care of all the legalities. Even the inevitable squabble with the State Department. I can get Interpol on the other line right away."

Arden's heart had begun to pump hard enough to send a rocket into orbit. Already, things had gotten out of control.

"We can be there in a trice," Tiki said. "Maybe the FBI will join us. Wouldn't that make all the newspapers? A grand photo op! It will be an international triumph!"

Or an international scandal, Arden thought with dread.

18.

Roxy picked up Nooch on the sidewalk outside his house, glad she didn't have to ring the doorbell. His grandmothers were legendary for hating each other. They conked each other with frying pans and broomsticks, inflicting damage that frequently ended in ambulances. Repeated citations for domestic disputes finally required a clear division of labor in the household. One night Nooch's nonna cooked spaghetti and meatb.a.l.l.s. The next night, his bubbe made pierogies. The grandmothers still squabbled all day long in their respective languages, but the police weren't needed as often.

Except for Nooch and his uncle Stosh, all his male relatives were in jail. Neighbors claimed they committed their crimes to get away from the grandmothers.

"Feeling better?" Roxy asked when Nooch climbed into her truck.

"I'm okay." He yawned like a lion who'd just awakened from a three-day snooze.

"Have you heard from Kaylee lately?"

He frowned, flummoxed by the simple question. "Huh?"

"I'll take that for a no. I have to go see her."

"She sleeps late. And she hates to be waked up."

With no desire to cope with Kaylee's temper so early in the day, Roxy said, "Okay, after lunch we'll go see her."

Glad Nooch didn't bug her with a bunch of questions, Roxy drove down to the yard, and Rooney greeted her with delight. Roxy herded Nooch into the warehouse, where he wrestled the griffin fireplace from the Hyde mansion onto the handcart. Together, they loaded it onto the back of the truck just as suns.h.i.+ne broke through the clouds. Roxy lashed it down with bungee cords, and they got back into the cab of the truck. Rooney jumped in, too.

"Where we going?" Nooch asked, sitting as close to the window as possible to stay away from the dog.

Roxy said, "I'm not telling, because I don't want you getting hysterical again."

"When did I get hysterical?"

"Never mind."

"Oh, wow! Are we gonna see Lapraxo again? Oh, wow! Oh, wow!"

"We are not seeing Lapraxo! Probably, that is. So calm down."

But Nooch was bouncing in his seat at the thought of meeting his hero, professional football player Lapraxo DuPree. Rooney began to bark as Nooch crowed, "I want his autograph! I wanna shake his hand! I wanna see his Super Bowl ring!"

"Get a grip, will you? First we have to find his house. d.a.m.n, I hate the suburbs."

Roxy found her way out of the city and into a far-flung burb where every house was built to impress the h.e.l.l out of the Joneses. While Nooch chattered on about his favorite Steeler, she got lost twice and was cursing up a storm as she roared through the labyrinthine streets.

"All these McMansions look the same to me," she snapped. "All the same, ugly sprawl. I feel like that kid who went up to Alaska and just kept walking until he found a school bus and died of starvation."

Nooch halted his gush of praise for Lapraxo long enough to look puzzled. "Why didn't he drive the school bus to get something to eat?"

"It wasn't that kind of bus. And where do they get these stupid names? Buckingham Way? Northumberland Lane? Some developer must be hoping for a knighthood from the queen."

"I think it's real pretty. A guy like Lapraxo shouldn't have to live in the city anymore."

"What are you all of a sudden? A social worker?"

"I'm just sayin', a guy has enough money, he ought to have some trees and playgrounds without needles on the ground."

Finally, Roxy found the right cul-de-sac perched on the rolling curves of a golf course. Houses under construction lined the circle. Rooney clambered into Nooch's lap to stick his head out the window. With his tongue hanging out, the dog slurped up the suburban smells, maybe looking for a s.e.xy poodle.

One house looked like a Moorish palace that was being constructed by the same people who built McDonald's restaurants. Twin minarets on either side of the front door were clad in vinyl. The shutters bore the initials DuP.

Standing impatiently on the mud-packed driveway, an ex-fas.h.i.+on model in a fur coat tapped the toe of her pointy shoe and glared at her watch. "Where have you been?"

Roxy slid out of the truck, wondering only for a second what might happen if she kicked mud up on a fur coat purchased by a Heisman Trophy winner who'd once been arrested for beating up his mother.

She slammed the door before Rooney could jump out and pasted on a friendly smile. It took a monumental effort, especially after Nooch scrambled out of the truck and began scoping out the site, hoping for a glimpse of Lapraxo. But Roxy doubted the famous running back would be caught dead spreading Weed 'N' Feed on his own lawn.

Roxy approached her client. "I stopped to pick up something for you, Shanna. I think you're going to love it."

Shanna DuPree narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "What is it?"

"The fireplace of your dreams. Take a look."

The trophy wife of Lapraxo DuPree had been serving as her own building contractor for at least a year. Which only meant the job was taking twice as long as it should. All the tradesmen on the project were delighted Shanna kept changing her mind, because they charged her over and over again for essentially the same work. Also, most of them hung around hoping to meet Lapraxo. Today a panel truck marked with the logo of a plaster company sat parked near the house.

Roxy led Shanna around to the back of her truck and unfastened the tarp protecting the soapstone fireplace they'd pulled out of the Hyde mansion. With some luck, Roxy might sell the statue to Shanna and be done with it. Maybe not for what it was worth, but enough. But first, she had to finesse her customer a little.

Shanna leaned over the tailgate from a distance that a.s.sured she wouldn't get her coat dirty. She eyed the fireplace. "Not bad."

"Not bad? It's stone from France! Hand carved, too."

Shanna rubbed her forehead as if the strain of thinking was too much. "Are those supposed to be lions?"

"They're griffins. Mythical beasts. Half lion, half dragon or something. See the claws? And it's beautiful workmans.h.i.+p. Just the thing to give your family room some pizzazz."

Shanna shook her blond hair extensions very firmly. "It's not a family room. It's a great room. And I don't want pizzazz. I want elegance."

"How much more elegant can you get than French carving?"

"Oh, my G.o.d!" Shanna suddenly took a step back from the truck. "I know that fireplace. It came out of Julius Hyde's house, didn't it?"

"How did you-?" Roxy decided to fall back on her professional policy of keeping her mouth shut whenever possible, and she swallowed her involuntary question. "Yeah, it came from the Hyde mansion. Which only means it's top quality. Look, Shanna, you need a little vision. It needs some polish, that's all. I know just the guy who can buff it up."

"I don't care how much buffing you can get, I'm not buying a fireplace from a dead guy-certainly not Julius! My husband would kill me."

Roxy couldn't help herself. "You knew Julius?"

Shanna gathered the folds of her fur coat closer. "Of course we knew him. He came to a charity fund-raiser at the Hilton one night. My husband does them all the time, and Julius was-he was rude as h.e.l.l. Grabbed my b.o.o.b in an elevator."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! The man was a pig. If Lapraxo had known that night, he'd have flattened Julius's face."

"Julius must have charmed you back to his house, though, if you recognize this fireplace."

Shanna managed to convey anger without the use of her Botoxed muscles. "If you say that to anyone, I'll sue."

"Take it easy," Roxy said. One look at Shanna's suppressed panic said there was more to the story. "I didn't know Julius was like that."

"Give the man a martini and he tried to pork every woman in sight. He was one of those guys who think inheriting a few million dollars gives them the right to do anything they please. Add alcohol, and he was disgusting. I'm glad he's dead. At least my husband will finally stop talking about beating him up."

Nooch said, "Is Lapraxo around?"

An expert at ignoring big men with dumb questions, Shanna said, "Everybody thinks Julius Hyde was some kind of philanthropic prince, but that was all his wife's work. I liked Monica. She was always nice, and she looked good. But Julius deserved that lowlife s.l.u.t he was shacked up with."

Kaylee was no prize, but Roxy suddenly wanted to bop Shanna on her surgically perfect nose for taking the side of a woman whose big claim to fame was giving away her husband's dough and keeping her hair combed.

Roxy managed to say, "Why don't you take another look at the fireplace?"

Shanna snicked her tongue. "I don't like it. I want something really cla.s.sy, not a bunch of animals, okay? It's not a children's room, it's a great room. That means everything needs to be great. You have to keep looking."

Roxy had already made three trips to show architectural materials to this gum-cracking trophy wife of a jealous millionaire Neanderthal. Nothing was going to please her.

But Roxy fought down her exasperation. "Okay, sure. That's what you pay me to do, right?"

"I don't know," Shanna said. "So far, you haven't demonstrated an understanding of my taste."

Of course Roxy understood Shanna's taste. She wanted gigantic and obnoxious. If Roxy could find a giant Mickey Mouse straight from f.u.c.king Disney World-that's what Shanna would grab in a heartbeat.

Roxy tried another strategy. "Well, if you've got somebody else in mind-someone who works cheaper-I understand completely."

"I'm not looking for cheaper," Shanna said quickly. "I just want to see some results."