In the Name of Glori: The Redemption Series, #3

Chapter One

First I noticed the shine of her fake red hair. Then I saw his over-bleached, over-sized, smug smile. Dad and his It Girl of the week. Front and center. My heel slipped, and I almost catapulted off the stage. I caught myself though, and bounced up, blowing kisses to my fans.

You’d think, on the greatest day of my life, the one I’d been waiting for forever, I’d be able to focus on my success. After all, I’d heard the applause of the crowd thundering in my ears every day of my life—in my dreams.

Now it was reality. Fresh from my first Grammy, I stood in front of a gazillion screaming fans. They loved me. A feeling I can’t describe. And now I had it—for about a millisecond.

Dear old Dad. I could always count on him to bring me down. Not that I didn’t have enough other family stuff on my mind.

I untwisted my insides and did a victory lap around the stage. No one was going to take this moment from me.

As I left the stage, there were dear Dad and Shiny Red, heading in my direction. Well, I’m an actress, so I acted like I didn’t see them. Fortunately, my manager Joe intercepted them, so I had time to kick off my shoes and bolt to the dressing room.

I found Aubrey Rose, international superstar, chatting on the phone. She was supposed to do a song with me. And what was left of the elation and the intention to drag her back on stage with me all disappeared from my little mind in that one instant. I knew who she was talking to. The love of her life—Navy SEAL turned secret agent—Jimmy Hollinger. She had that look all over her face.

What has that got to do with me? And one of the greatest moments of my newfound music career?

I knew the guys were safe. My sexy French secret agent, Alain, and his cohorts were back home. Undoubtedly they’d saved the world from some unknown disaster yet again. And they’d lived. And Jimmy called Aubrey. I ran for my phone.

Joe, my manager, appeared in the doorway, garbling curses around a stinky cigar. Dad and Shiny wedged in beside him. I grabbed my phone from the table. No messages.

Joe’s cigar dropped from his mouth. Glori! Get back out there. What the hell are you doin’?

Dad squeezed into the room and gave me that million dollar smile. I didn’t give him a chance to start. "I don’t need your bit part. You can keep it. No more groveling for crumbs from Dad."

Aubrey slinked toward the door and smoothed the metallic mini that barely skimmed her billion dollar butt. No surprise—that was enough to distract Dad.

I pushed through the crowd to find my shoes and get back to the stage.

The jerk. I’ll show him. He’ll beg me to do a movie before I’m done. I was now Glori Coulson, superstar. (Yeah, I believe in positive thinking.) I didn’t need Don Coulson, legendary Hollywood director-and-now-producer. That was for sure. There’d be plenty of producers calling. They’d be a dime a dozen.

Aubrey offered her arm for support as I climbed into my heels. Jimmy called. They’re okay.

So why didn’t Alain call me?  My insides were twisting up again. She hauled me to the stage.

***

As soon as the show was over I headed to the airport. I was so worked up I couldn’t think straight. Alain was mad at me or something else was wrong. I couldn’t call him. He was supposed to call me.

I know, I know. It’s not like getting on a plane is acting any less desperate, huh? Well I had plenty of time to sort things out—all the way from Los Angeles to Salzburg, Austria.

Of course my flight was delayed, so I headed to the VIP lounge.

Glori!

I turned to see my friend Tamara Everett waving furiously. We ran to each other laughing, and she gave me a huge hug. Her assistant, laden with way too much carry on luggage, gave us a look. Tamara never appeared the least little bit undignified. But today was different, I guess. We were acting downright goofy.

She’d changed a lot since her dad, Senator Everett, was murdered—over a year ago now. Then a couple months later, her best friend Kendra was murdered. Poor Tamara had a lot to cope with. But it looked like she was bouncing back. Tamara sent her assistant on her merry way, and we settled at a table and ordered iced teas. Her bodyguard kept an eye on her from a distance.

I suddenly felt naked—I realized I had absolutely no security. How did that happen?

Tamara’s smile was bigger than I’d ever seen. I’d hoped I’d catch up with you before you went back to Salzburg. I know you were a last minute addition to Aubrey’s show. But by the time you texted me, I was in New York, and my designer is so busy, I didn’t dare cancel. What a thrill to meet you here!

Yeah. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since Cindy’s wedding. Wow. I took a sip of tea. The last thing I needed was more caffeine. So, you’re looking great, hon.

"Well—I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Please—please! Tell Alain—and David and their colleagues—how very grateful I am. General Pearson saw to it I’ve got one million dollars back so far, and he thinks the rest will be coming. Not to mention the peace of mind I have with him out of the picture."

I had no idea what she was talking about. Him, who? Alain was the most tight-lipped person I ever knew. I’d never hear a thing from him. But something sure was going on.

You don’t know?

I rolled my eyes. I doubt it.

They finally caught up with Colonel Johnson. This past March. I’m quite sure he’s dead. They found him in South America. He’s probably the one who murdered Dad and Kendra.

Whoa! Colonel Johnson?

Tamara started to get teary-eyed. Yes.

Light began to dawn. Oh! That’s when Jimmy was shot!

Oh? Yes. The tabloids had pictures of Jimmy and Aubrey—said he’d apparently been injured—and that was about that time. So he was shot?

I took a big breath. This secret agent world I’d managed to fall into sure was crazy. Yeah. So I know Jimmy came back from some mission with a bullet hole in his leg, and you know Colonel Jerry Lee ‘Jerko’ Johnson is dead. Wow. So he’s the guy that’s been messing up our lives for the past year and a half? No wonder I don’t have security these days. Huh.

Then I remembered the picture Alain had taken from me. Tamara and Kendra stood with her parents and Colonel Johnson in the lobby of some hotel in Rome. I bet that was their break in the case. And—of course—Alain would never mention that to me. Typical.

So how did Colonel Johnson end up with a million dollars of your money?

Tamara whispered, Oh, Glori, I was terrified! He came to my home, and I received him—well he’d worked with Dad sometimes and they played golf. So I thought nothing of letting him in. Then he started acting all crazy. He threatened me, and said I needed to give him eight million dollars, and he’d disappear in South America and leave me alone. By the time he was done, I thought he was the one who murdered Dad and Kendra. So I went along with him. He took me to my bank, and I gave him the money.

Wow. I didn’t know what to say.

I called Agent Lambrecht—David—right away. Well, Debbie had introduced me to General Pearson at their wedding and asked if David could work on Dad’s murder investigation. The General said he’d see what he could do. It was quite some time later when Alain and David showed up at my home with a photo of us with Colonel Johnson. It was only then I realized they were working on the case. At the wedding, I just thought the General was being polite to Debbie. She’s such a doll.

Yeah. She’s a doll. And David’s unbelievable with a gun, so I bet he’s the one that shot ol’ Jerry Lee Jerko dead.

Well, whichever one it was—I’m eternally grateful.

***

The second I hit the seat, a stewardess appeared with a pina colada. "Gossamer Magazine says they’re your favorite. She smiled and leaned in toward me. What’s it like?"

I remembered how it felt to be so obscure. To feel like no one gave a crap about what happened to you. I remembered how lucky I got. My life? I looked up at her. "It’s kind of like Sound of Music meets James Bond."

Oooo, she cooed, I always wanted to be a Bond girl.

I sipped my drink. Yeah. They always ended up getting screwed somehow.

***

Alain hadn’t expected this change. Glori had always been there to welcome him home. His mind returned to the very public welcome after the Sara Blackington case. Of course, it was a great PR opportunity. And Glori was a star. Maybe that’s all he really was to her. A great PR opportunity.

He turned the car down the narrow, winding road to their cozy home in the woods. It was cold for May, and the house was in darkness.

He found the note on the kitchen table, anchored by Glori’s recent Grammy award.

Hi Honey! I’ve been worried about you!!! I hope you’re okay. Well, I guess if you’re reading this, you probably are! Anyway, I got a call from Aubrey Rose. She asked me to open her show for her! The other girl broke her arm. So I’ll probably be in the U.S. for a couple weeks. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I hope you understand. Please CALL ME as soon as you can!!! I love you!!! Glori

She had drawn a large heart around flourished handwriting. A faint hint of her perfume wafted from the stationery.

He went to the cabinet. Glori always kept the ingredients for her favorite pina coladas. Tonight he only needed the rum. He took the bottle and a single glass to the bedroom and sat in a large overstuffed chair.

He stared over the empty bed into a strategically placed mirror. He could see her there now, vaguely, her long tousled hair, her perfect curves.

He closed his eyes and remembered their last night together. Or was it? They’d had more than a few last nights. Damn rum. He poured another shot and looked for her in the mirror again.

Dim lamplight and liquor formed a strange aura. The short, sandy hair he had hastily brushed after his shower, now stuck out in tufts about his face. Eyes bloodshot with exhaustion and sadness glared back at him.

He took a swig of rum and remembered a song he heard once on the radio in Los Angeles. A strangely unsettling song about pina coladas.

***

Early the next morning, Alain arrived in the conference room and opened the blinds. The first rays of the day’s sun struggled to illuminate the stark room. He leaned against the window frame, staring out at the old military base-turned-training-ground for the organization. Drab rectangular buildings nestled silently in the hollow, blatantly contrasting the beauty of the Alpine foothills.

He could almost see the orange ball of flame shoot up over the crest of the knoll, and his stomach pitched. He rubbed his desiccated eyes, attempting to banish the image from his mind.

It had been one hell of a ride. He could still smell the burning oil, and he coughed reflexively. He remembered Lambrecht’s face, expressionless as usual. One shot was all he ever needed. One shot and the plane was only fire.

He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. He was glad Lambrecht did that job. He hated taking out women and children. He hated imagining what they had looked like in their final moments, but he always did.

It was an unfortunate part of the job. Of course, he knew Lambrecht didn’t like it any better than he did. At least, he thought he didn’t. It wasn’t something they discussed.

The overhead light switched on and Eduardo Clemente lowered himself into a chair at the table. He began industriously polishing an apple with a freshly bandaged hand. So, did you call Glori?

***

You might think it was the pina coladas that loosened my tongue, but it was nerves. That stewardess was my best friend by the time we were in the air. Probably not the best quality to have if you’re a secret agent’s fiancée. Not that I told her anything that wasn’t already plastered over Gossamer Magazine and all the rest. Besides, I was better off running my mouth than sitting there dwelling on my problems.

I have a wacky family. And why wouldn’t they be? I’m the one that patched them together and called them family. Way better than Dad and Shiny Red, anyway. I upped the enthusiasm in my voice. Wacky with a capital ‘W.’ Well, interesting, I guess I should say. Interesting. Take Cisco for instance—

Cisco? She helped herself to the seat beside me.

Cat’s husband.

Oooo. He’s so handsome. And smart, I hear.

"Smart? Yeah. When he says ‘three-way,’ he means arbitrage—gold, dollars, Euros. Now David, he means, well you know. We both giggled. Not that I ever knew what arbitrage was until I met Cisco. Not that I really do now."

My stewardess was already on the three-way thing. I think I read every shred of reporting on your friend, Debbie, and David Lambrecht.

Here we go. Well I started it with my smart remark. Yeah, that was pretty intense, huh?

Thank God it was time to take off. I focused on my pina colada, and the stewardess reluctantly left to attend to her duties.

I strapped myself in and thought about my sexy French secret agent—the one I planned to marry. Yeah, sometimes I wondered if he was marriage material. But then I wondered if I was marriage material. I began to hyperventilate.

What would my therapist say? I took some deep breaths. That didn’t work. Then I remembered Debbie’s feel the feelings stuff she’s always doing in her eating disorders program. It seemed to be working for her.

Okay, what was I feeling? I pictured Alain. I was feeling—oohhh! Okay, okay, that always comes out when I picture Alain. I was feeling… upset… angry that I couldn’t enjoy the success of my biggest solo performance to date. I was worried… worried maybe he was really hurt, and no one would tell me. Worried maybe he just didn’t want me anymore. Maybe he found some other woman secret agent like David did that time.

Yeah, that old scandal started rattling around in my brain. The Weekly World Gossip headlines never quit. The entire planet focused on an undercover agent ripped out from under covers all right. David and the two strippers shacked up together. David and the woman spy. David and his oblivious wife, Debbie. Debbie was painfully naïve.

But who knew what Alain was up to? Maybe he was no different than David. Maybe he was just luckier, and didn’t get caught. Maybe I was as naïve as Debbie.

By the time we landed in New York, I’d had a few drinks. And they didn’t help.

I needed to talk to Cindy, my best friend. She’d help me sort this stuff out. I circled the VIP lounge a few times to work out some of the tension, took out my cigarettes, ground them in my hands, and dumped the crud into a trash basket. Not good for the voice. Like anyone could tell. I found a private spot and dialed the phone.

Hello? It was Debbie. What was she doing answering Cindy’s phone? I took a deep breath. I knew I’d have to be all polite and sweet. You just can’t be anything but sweet to Debbie. Otherwise you get the feeling she’ll go and starve herself to death, and then it’d be all your fault. Hello? Her voice was always so breathless—I took another breath.

Hi, Honey. It’s Glori. How are you? How are the babies?

Glori! Oh, we’re fine! And David’s fine. He got home yesterday. How was your concert? When are you coming home?

Home? Never in my life did I ever think I’d call Salzburg, Austria, home. How could I leave Beverly Hills? Just for some sexy French guy. And Paulo Clemente’s band, of course. And my best friend, Cindy, who married Paulo’s cousin. Somehow these people all turned into the family I never had. Like I told the stewardess, I have a wacky family. In Salzburg, Austria.

I’m on my way now, honey. I didn’t want to talk about Alain, so I dove into the topic Debbie loves best—her husband, David, and their babies. So, did you tell David the happy news?

There was a major pause on the other end. No… not… not yet, she stuttered.

Uh oh. I’d probably put my foot in it now. I thought by this point, the whole world knew she was pregnant again. Every time I called Cindy that’s practically all she could talk about. Of course, it was pretty amazing news. I thought you couldn’t wait to tell him, honey. Cat’s prediction is coming true.

Yes… yes I know… but… but I don’t think David ever really believed it. He … he always got upset anytime anyone ever talked about us having six babies.

Oh. I thought when you had the nursery redone last winter you said he was okay with it.

Yes. But—but I think he was just placating me.

Placating you? Okay. Time to bail out of this conversation. I had enough problems of my own. Well, everyone knows Cat’s predictions always come true. Especially David. Hell—heck—they grew up in the same house together. He’s got to have seen it more than anyone. So don’t worry about it, honey. Anyway—is Cindy there? Thank God she went to get her.

Then I heard Cin in the background. Freddy is such a good boy today. That lilting voice always meant she was holding her godson. Cindy had wanted a baby of her own, for as long as I can remember. In the meanwhile, she showered Debbie and her triplets with constant attention.

Glori. We were just talking about you. How are you? How was the concert?

The concert was fine, Cin. Is everything okay there?

Everything is fine, honey. Cindy sounded hesitant. The guys got back safe and sound yesterday. So everyone’s relieved and happy. What’s going on with you? Isn’t it awfully early there?

I heaved a heavy sigh. I couldn’t help it. I broke down into sobs. Alain never even called me, Cin. He never even called. I found out they got back when Jimmy called Aubrey. She told me they were back in Salzburg, and they’re okay.

Oh honey. She babbled into the phone. I don’t know what she said, but she couldn’t console me. My mascara started to run—I hate when that happens.

Finally, I managed to speak. My voice rose higher, all squeaky. I really hate when that happens. What should I do, Cin? What should I do?

Well… well, it’s got to be some sort of misunderstanding.

***

Yeah, it was a misunderstanding all right. That was the word that described my relationship with Alain. Agent Alain Dusseault, the one man I ever met worthy of the L word. Love and misunderstanding. Welcome to my world.

I sat there on that plane, dwelling on him, alternately crying and touching up my makeup. Thankfully there was no one in the seat beside me. The stewardesses gave me curious sympathetic smiles, but mostly left me alone after I refused food and drinks about eight hundred times.

Yeah, I knew a lot of it was my fault. He was a great guy, but I had a career to think of. I was on the brink of superstardom. No screwing it up now.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest. I needed to get my mind on something positive. The concert, the fans, the applause, the thrill. Then Dad and Shiny Red. So much for positive.

Back to Alain. A guy that preferred a life lived in the shadows. A guy who worked for some agency that didn’t even exist. A guy that had proposed to me two months ago, and who didn’t bother to call me after surviving whatever so-called mission they did this time.

Yeah, Alain was a guy that was probably just as messed up as I was.

How could I live with a secret agent and become a famous actress? How could I live with a secret agent and not know anything about his work?

And now, my friend Tamara knew more about what Alain and his cohorts were up to than I did. When was he going to tell me we didn’t need to worry about getting shot or blown up any more? When was he going to tell me that jerk Colonel Johnson was responsible for all that misery, and now he was dead? Wow. It boggled my mind.

I looked out the window at the tops of clouds that looked like cotton candy. That was one weird organization. They had American military guys at the top—that much I knew. I was pretty sure they also had foreign military guys in charge too. Then there was Alain and his friends—an odd group of recruits. Alain was French, Jimmy was American, Eduardo was Spanish, and David was Austrian. The four of them had obviously been to hell and back numerous times. Now they were in charge of training. Of course, they still went off to save the world from time to time.

Alain would only say they were in international law enforcement. From what I could see, they sure had a lot more clout than Interpol. I mean, who could get away with shooting a colonel? I figured they answered to the little old men who ran the world.

***

I pulled my shiny black sport sedan up to the gate. It took every minute on the plane to whip myself into shape to confront Alain. But I was ready.

Then I noticed the guard. I couldn’t help but groan as I realized my misfortune. It was the very same guard I had encountered before. The rifle slung stiffly over his shoulder, the sneering lips, the firm jaw, and the steely eyes. It was that very guard I loathed.

My resolve began to crumble. I put my head down against the steering wheel, and my brain returned to the day last fall when I’d first tried to cajole the guy into letting me through. Unfortunately, Debbie was hysterical in the seat beside me, and when I got out of the car to confront the guard, she drove off through the gate and into the side of a truck. Meanwhile, I’d tried to wrestle the guy to prevent him and his cohorts from shooting us.

Yeah, that was a fun day. As if that episode wasn’t bad enough, that was the day Debbie managed to learn about David’s secret agent girlfriend. Not one of our brighter moments. I took a deep breath.

I hadn’t come all the way from L.A. for nothing. I formed a determined smile, tossed my hair back, and confidently opened the door.