She Wanted It All - Kathryn Casey [127]
Days later Celeste called Tracey in the middle of the night. “I’m out on Toro Canyon. Come get me.”
When Tracey got there, she found Celeste walking on the road. Tracey opened the door for her and they drove through the quiet neighborhood while Celeste talked. On the side of the road, Celeste cried over what the police might do. Tracey, the one already facing a life sentence, comforted her. “By then, I wasn’t in love with her,” Tracey said. “But I loved her.”
And still, every day, Celeste asked Donna if that would be the day Modesto would fulfill the contract and kill Tracey.
In early March, Donna told Celeste, “Modesto needs $2,500 to finish the contract. He has expenses.”
Again, Celeste told Kristina to go to the bank.
“Why?” Kristina asked.
“Because I said so,” she answered.
When Kristina returned, she found Celeste and Donna in the master bathroom. She handed Celeste the $2,500 in an envelope and watched as her mother gave it to Donna.
“What’s going on?” Kristina asked. “What’s between you and Donna?”
“Never mind,” Celeste said. “It’s none of your business. And I don’t want you asking Donna any questions. Stay away from her.”
With the hit imminent, or so she believed, Celeste had an idea. She and Donna left the next day for New Orleans. It was Mardi Gras. What better place to set up an alibi than with thousands of people to testify she wasn’t even in Austin?
That week, Anita had plans to help Celeste write thank-you notes for the flowers and remembrances that had poured in for Steve’s funeral. Instead her fax churned out a letter from Celeste: “I’m just too distraught. I can’t handle Steve’s death. I feel like I want to kill myself and be with him. I’m going back to Timberlawn.”
Days later Anita mentioned it to Christopher, who worked part-time in her office. “I’m worried about Celeste,” she said. “She’s really taking Steve’s death hard.”
“She’s partying in New Orleans,” he said. “I think she’s fine.”
Meanwhile, Celeste and Donna jumped from hotel to hotel in New Orleans, and what was to have been a three-day trip turned into ten. During the day they shopped, buying wild costumes and long, shiny metallic green, purple, and silver wigs. At night they walked Bourbon Street in leopard leotards, their hair concealed beneath the wigs. In platform shoes, they towered over the other revelers, attracting attention. One night they dressed like members of the rock group KISS, their faces painted white with black stripes. Nearly every night, Celeste slept with a different man. On the street during the parades, she tore open her blouse, flashing her breasts for the bright plastic beads thrown off the floats. A few nights, Celeste’s current boyfriend, Cole Johnson, flew in. When he left, she partied again, picking up a new guy in the bars or on the streets. While Celeste brought her latest man upstairs, Donna slept in the lobby.
When Celeste once again urged Donna to find out when the hit would take place, Donna pretended to call Modesto; no one answered. “Maybe he’s taking care of it right now,” she’d say.
With that, Celeste called Tracey. When she answered, Celeste hung up.
Finally, on the tenth day after they’d arrived, Donna said, “I need a phone card to call Modesto. We don’t want it traced.” They walked over to an Eckerd and Celeste bought one. While Celeste waited, Donna dialed her mother’s house on a pay phone. Donna’s teenage son answered, and they talked for half an hour or so while Celeste waited.
“When are you coming home?” he asked.
“Soon,” she said, feeling guilty about being gone so long.
“We have to leave now,” she told Celeste when she hung up. “Modesto has pulled out. I have a new guy who says he’ll do it, but he wants more money.”
“I need the car loaded in five minutes,” Celeste barked at the bellman. “I’ve