The Bracelet by Mary Jane Clark Page A

where they socialized with other beautiful people. She grew up thinking that was just the way it should be. She had been proud of her father and the things people said about him, the way they raved about his work and declared him a miracle worker. The magazine articles about the spa he had founded touted his “magic hands.” The tabloids speculated on various movie stars for whom her father had turned back time. Occasionally she’d overheard her father telling her mother about the actor or actress who had come to Elysium looking to be transformed in order to revive a flagging career.
    â€œHail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Sister Mary Noelle’s lips moved, but barely a whisper came out of her mouth. She prayed for her dear father, her beloved sister, and her deceased mother.
    Sometimes through the greatest pain came the greatest blessings. If her mother hadn’t died of a heart attack after cosmetic surgery, Sister Mary Noelle might never have rejected the empty pursuit of physical beauty. She might never have discovered what was truly important. She might never have become Sister Mary Noelle.

 
    C HAPTER F OUR
    B efore she dressed for the party, Piper took a minute to Google the name Jillian Abernathy. The most recent links were to articles about the acid attack. They recounted that a woman, hired to clean the house, had opened Jillian’s front door thinking she’d be accepting delivery of a gift for her employer’s upcoming wedding. The victim was unable to provide a description of the attacker, recalling only that she did catch a glimpse of a pair of aviator sunglasses and a blue cap before the acid was thrown in her face.
    Esperanza Flores, thirty-one, was quoted from an interview conducted in her hospital room. “I couldn’t stop screaming. My face was on fire. The worst fire you can imagine.”
    The case remained unsolved. As Piper searched further, she came upon older stories. One headline read BUSINESS MAJOR HITS THE GROUND RUNNING . The article explained that immediately after graduation from USC, Jillian had taken over as director of Elysium, replacing Hudson Sherwood. Sherwood had been Elysium’s director since the spa was founded by Jillian’s father.
    Nepotism at its best, thought Piper.
    There were several articles about Elysium in which Jillian was quoted. All of them seemed to be puff pieces, listing the fabulous treatments and amenities offered at the spa. Piper noticed that little mention was made of the cosmetic surgery done there.
    Piper was about to log off when she spotted one last thing. It was a death notice that had run in the Los Angeles Times several years earlier. It listed Jillian Abernathy as one of the two daughters of Caryn Abernathy, formerly the actress Caryn Collins. No cause of death was listed.
    Piper didn’t recognize the name. She glanced at the clock and decided she’d have to learn more about Caryn Collins later. She had promised Jack she’d get to his place early to help him before the guests began arriving.

    While the traffic at the George Washington Bridge was not too horrific, the FDR Drive was a nightmare. Should have gone down the West Side Highway and cut over, Piper thought as the cars inched along for over eighty blocks. When she got off at Twenty-third Street, she was already an hour late.
    As she locked the sedan door, her BlackBerry rang. Feeling the cold air whipping across from the East River, Piper put the tray and the two shopping bags she was carrying on the hood of the car and pulled her handheld from the pocket of her coat. She glanced at the screen.
    It was Jack.
    â€œHey, where are you?” he asked. She could hear the concern in his voice.
    â€œI’m here,” said Piper. “The traffic was horrible, but some guy was pulling out across the street from your building and I just got his space.”
    â€œGood. Do you need me to come down and help you with