She Wanted It All - Kathryn Casey [123]
“Do you know anyone who could do it?”
“There’s this guy, Modesto, he’s part of the Mexican mafia,” Donna said.
“How much do you think Modesto would charge?” she asked.
“About five hundred,” Donna answered, taking a long drag from her cigarette.
“When can he do it?” Celeste asked.
Donna smiled, “He’ll need the money first.”
Later, Donna insisted that she never intended to hire anyone to kill Tracey and that from the beginning she was playing along to squeeze money out of Celeste. “It was a you-don’t-con-a-con situation,” she says with a smirk.
In Lake Charles, Celeste handed Donna $500 to play the slots, which the tall redhead pocketed. At the craps table, Celeste dropped another thousand, then hooked up with a guy at the bar. A big loser that night, he took them for a comp dinner, and Celeste bankrolled him for $400, which he quickly lost.
“Let’s go,” Celeste said at about eleven.
This time, not wanting a replay of the trip to Houston, Donna drove.
“Pull into that ATM,” Celeste ordered as they passed a bank. When she did, Celeste withdrew $500 and handed it to her. “For Modesto,” she said.
The rest of the five hour drive, Celeste slept. As they pulled into Austin, at four that morning, a heavy fog clung to the road. “I want to drive you by Tracey’s,” Celeste said. “So Modesto can find it.”
Celeste then directed Donna to the corner house on Wilson. In the early morning hours of February 14, Tracey’s maroon Nissan Pathfinder was parked in the driveway.
“When can he do it?” Celeste asked again.
“I just need to talk to him,” Donna said.
Celeste dropped Donna at the salon to get her car. After driving home and changing, Donna headed to work. It was Valentine’s Day, and the salon was booked solid. But when she arrived, her check wasn’t what she thought it should be. Angry, she left and went to the Toro Canyon house.
“You don’t have to work there, you can work for me,” Celeste told her. “I can pay you four hundred dollars a week, and you don’t have to pay for anything. I’ll pick up all the tabs.”
From that point on, Donna worked for Celeste.
That day, Donna called Bruce Reynolds, a friend who owned a small plumbing company, to see if he wanted to go out. He agreed, met Donna at her house, and they drove to Toro Canyon at seven that evening. “She lives here?” said Reynolds, who was tall with an aquiline nose and a runner’s body. On the porch, Donna rang the doorbell, then ran and hid behind a tree, like an adolescent playing a prank.
“Donna, are you fooling with me?” he said as Celeste opened the door.
“Nah, this is the place,” Donna said, laughing and walking toward him. Then she pointed at the door. “This is Celeste.”
Donna immediately sensed a connection between them. At dinner at Louie’s 106, a small, posh downtown eatery, they talked and drank, Bruce seated beside Celeste in the booth. On her way back from the rest room, Donna saw them kiss. That night, Bruce slept with Celeste, and Donna bunked in Kristina’s room alone. By then the twins were rarely home. Kristina spent most nights at Anita’s or at Justin’s parents’ home, while Jennifer overnighted with friends or Christopher. Since the shooting, the house had become a frightening place for them. And once Donna entered Celeste’s life, they stayed away even more, wary of her brashness and what they’d heard about her past, including that she was on probation. At times they stared at her, wondering if what else they’d heard was true—that she’d once been a man.
“When will Modesto do it?” Celeste asked off and on during the ensuing days.
“Pretty soon,” Donna said.
For a week Bruce hung so close he seemed physically attached to Celeste. During the day, they slept in the master bedroom. At night, they circulated from bar to bar, with Donna as driver. Later, who brought up marriage would be a point of dispute. Donna and the teens would say it was Bruce, who seemed entranced with Celeste and her wealth. But he maintained that Celeste asked him to elope with her to Las Vegas. At times Donna thought that Bruce