Free Broken Serenade by Dorina Stanciu Page A

didn’t want her to see him tonight. Not yet. For a moment, he looked absently at the envelope in his hand and chuckled amused at what he was about to do. Then, he exited his Mercedes and walked to the main entrance of her house. He carefully pushed the envelope between the door and the wooden frame. He chose to place it above his height – so it would fall when the door would be open, and she would not miss it.
        Without any trace of regret, Timothy Leigh went back home, took a quick shower, and fell asleep immediately. He slept like a baby for the rest of the night. Next morning, he woke up full of hope that he would meet with her that very day. He wanted to know how she really looked like. He just wanted to stay close to her. It was a vital, internal necessity that needed to be fulfilled at all costs.

 
    CHAPTER 6
     
     
           V ivien peeled off her little night gown and thoroughly examined herself with a critical look in the huge bathroom mirror. I must double the number of squats and push-ups. The fight with Sir Time and Lady Gravity is extremely hard, she told herself. She came back inside her bedroom and lifted the silk yellow scarf from beside the bed. She had found it in the Tiffany box she had received from Tee fifteen years ago. Of course, it had not been destined for her from the beginning, but for that spoiled Nadine. Back in front of the bathroom mirror, she wrapped up her naked body in that fine silk. Is this way you wanted her to come to you that wedding night, Tee? Is it pure coincidence, or your action hides something rather sinister? Actually, who are you, Tee? the young woman demanded, confused. In the light of the events of the day before, she found his gift disturbing.  
        Always very organized, Vivien had already planned her day. On the back of the newly discovered painting that had elucidated the nature of the relationship between Mademoiselle Lili and Nadine, she had found an address in Menlo Park. She would stop by to check it out. It was surely an art studio, and the painting had been exposed or sold there. She guessed who the painter was. His signature on the canvas was indecipherable, and the label on the back of the frame was partially missing, leaving only an address. Time had worked miracles. The colors were as strident now as they had been in his adolescence. Still, the maturity had brought subtlety and exquisite refinement to his executions. That raw sensibility that breathed in every stroke of his brush raised the mysterious artist to the rank of a phenomenon in the world of modern painters. At least, that was Vivien’s educated opinion in the matter. She had studied music and arts in California and abroad, in Western Europe, for many years.  
        Vivien anticipated that she would finish with tracing the painting’s origin before lunch. That would give her time to pay an unexpected visit to Timothy Leigh. She had no doubt that, inside those walls artistically designed by the talented architect, there were old secrets hidden, and only she could decipher them. If he’s home, that’s fine. If he’s not home, that’s better, she thought. She was confident that she would find a solution to enter his house. With the risk that she would have to tell him who she truly was.  
        The start proved to be unsuccessful. She had just finished with the morning shower and the routine make-up. As she prepared to throw away the burnt cinnamon rolls from the evening before, the phone cut the peaceful flow of her early chores.   
        “Good morning, Miss Hopkins,” detective Art Leonard greeted. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
        “Good morning,” Vivien saluted, spiritless. “I have a habit of waking up early.” 
        “I just wanted to remind you that you can’t enter your store. You also can’t enter the room behind your store, the one where you found the corpse… I mean, where you found Miss Morgan,” the detective stuttered. “The