Harlan Coben - Play Dead

‘What?’

‘Problem in the transformation, Captain. I still sense a few molecules of the nymph hidden under the business facade.’

‘You sense right.’

‘Laura?’

‘Yes?’

David took her hand. ‘I love you,’ he began, his eyes misting over. ‘You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.’

She hugged him, her eyes closing. ‘I love you too, David. I couldn’t live without you.’

‘Grow old with me, Laura, and I promise I’ll always make you happy.’

‘You’ve got a deal,’ she said gently, ‘and you better stick to it.’

‘Forever,’ he said.

Laura kissed him then, not realizing that the honeymoon was over.

‘G’day, ma’am.’

‘Good morning,’ Laura answered the receptionist with a smile. They were staying at the Reef Resort Hotel in Palm’s Cove, about twenty miles from Cairns, Australia. The private resort was a quiet slice of Eden, a secluded paradise overlooking the Pacific. They were hidden within the century-old palm trees and lush bush of tropical northern Australia. Take a boat out in any direction and you would be mesmerized by the rainbow colors of Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, nature’s most exquisite masterpiece of jagged coral and exotic marine life, an underground park that man both explored and preserved. Travel in any other direction and you would be wandering through green rain forests with cascading waterfalls, or the beginning of Australia’s famed outback region. It was like no other place in the world.

The receptionist’s voice was heavy with an Australian accent. ‘Your taxi should be here in a few minutes, ma’am. You and your husband enjoying your stay?’

‘Very much so.’

‘Lovely here, ain’t it?’ he said proudly. Like most locals, his skin had a bronze-to-red tone from the constant exposure to the sun.

‘Yes, it is.’

He began to tap his pencil on the desk, his eyes darting around the sun-drenched room. ‘Do you mind if I ask you a sort of personal question, ma’am?’

‘I guess so.’

He hesitated. ‘Your husband I recognized right away from the telly. Even in these sticks we get some of your important basketball games – especially the Boston Celtics. But, ma’am, you also look a might familiar. You used to be on magazine covers or something, right?’

‘Used to be,’ Laura responded, amazed at both how widespread certain publications were and how far the average person’s memory stretched. Four years had passed since Laura had been on any magazine covers, with the exception of last November’s Business Weekly.

‘I knew I’d seen you before. But don’t worry, ma’am. I won’t let on. No way I’m going to allow anyone to disturb you and Mr Baskin.’

‘Thank you.’

A horn honked. ‘That’ll be your taxi. Have a good one.’

‘I’ll try.’ She left the lobby, greeted the driver, and sat in the backseat. The air-conditioning was at full blast, making the car almost too cold, but against the outside sun, it was a most welcome change.

Laura settled back and watched the tropical foliage merge into a wall of green as the taxi sped toward town. Every once in a while a small building would pop out of the natural habitat but for the first ten minutes of the ride, they were only a few hidden bungalows, a post office and a grocery store. She gripped the briefcase that contained the catalogues of all the latest Svengali products. Her right leg bounced up and down restlessly.

Laura began modeling when she was only seventeen. Her Cosmo debut was followed by Mademoiselle and Glamour covers in the same month, and then Sports Illustrated’ s annual swimsuit issue made her name somewhat household. The cover photo was taken during a sunset on Australia’s Gold Coast about 500 miles from Palm’s Cove. In the photograph, Laura was wading knee-deep in the water, her eyes staring into the camera as she pulled back her wet hair. She wore a black, strapless one-piece that molded to her curves, her shoulders bare. It ended up being the best-selling issue Sports Illustrated ever had.

From there, the amount of covers and layouts grew along with Laura’s bank account. Sometimes she appeared on the cover of the same magazine for four or five months in a row, but unlike other models, there was never a backlash to too much exposure, never an overkill. The demand did not let up.

It was all very odd. As a child, Laura had been fat and unattractive. Her classmates had teased her mercilessly about her weight, about her stringy hair, about her thick glasses, about her lack of make-up, about the way she dressed. They called her names and taunted her with the painful insults of cruel children. Their oral barrages never slackened or let up. In the cafeteria, in the hallways, in the schoolyard, in gym class, Laura’s classmates were relentless in their savage attacks upon their defenseless victim.

They made her childhood a living hell.

Sometimes, a group of the really popular girls would beat her up in the woods behind the schoolyard. But physical abuse never hurt little Laura as much as the cruel words. The pain of a kick or a punch went away. The cruel words stayed with her always.

In those days, Laura would come home from school crying to a mother who had to be the most beautiful woman in the world, a woman who could not understand why her baby was not the most well-liked girl in her class. Mary Simmons Ayars had always been unusually gorgeous, had always been popular amongst her peers. Girls had always wanted to be her friend; boys had always wanted to carry her books and maybe hold her hand.

Laura’s father, her dear, sweet father, would be heartbroken over the situation. It tore at Dr James Ayars’s stomach to see his daughter spend every night crying alone in a corner of her darkened bedroom. He too tried to help, but what could a father do in a situation like this?

Once, when she was in seventh grade, Dr Ayars bought his daughter an expensive white dress with a designer’s label on it. Laura loved the dress. She was sure that it was going to change her whole life. She looked pretty in it. Her father had said so. And Laura was going to wear it to school and all the popular girls were going to think she was pretty too. They would all like her – even Lisa Sommers, the prettiest girl in the class. They would ask her to sit with them during lunch instead of by herself in the back of the room. They would ask her to play hopscotch with them during recess instead of making her stand away from them where no one would talk to her. And who knows? Maybe Lisa Sommers would invite her to go over her house after school.

Laura was so excited she could hardly sleep. She got out of bed very early the next morning, showered, and put on her new dress. Her older sister Gloria, who was really popular with the boys, helped her get ready. Gloria brushed Laura’s hair out, curled it, and even added light touches of make-up. When Gloria was finished, she stepped back and let Laura look at herself in the mirror. Laura tried to be critical but she could not help it. She looked pretty.

‘Do I really look okay?’ she asked her sister hopefully.

Gloria hugged her and stroked her hair. ‘Just perfect.’

When she came down to breakfast, her father smiled. ‘Well, well, just take a look at my little princess.’

Laura giggled happily.

‘You look lovely,’ her mother added.

‘The boys will be fighting in the playground today,’ her father chipped in.

‘Do you want me to walk you to school?’ Gloria asked.

‘That would be great!’

Laura beamed with joy as she headed to school with Gloria. When they reached the edge of the playground, Gloria turned to her little sister and gave her another big hug. Laura felt warm and secure in her sister’s arms. ‘I have cheerleading practice after school,’ Gloria said. ‘I’ll see you at home later tonight, okay?’