Luckily, Charles was the kind of mild-mannered boy who did what he was told, even though he had the body of a centerfold, which had doubtless endeared him to Juno initially, although I’d been surprised to hear they were still together. Juno did not have a good track record when it came to relationships. There must be much more to Charles than a pretty smile and a body to die for.
He was subdued during the car ride, although he kept chewing on his blue-polished fingernails—the only not-so-perfect part of him.
“Charles, it’s going to be all right.”
He shot me a glance that was filled with doubt. “Do you really think so?”
“Have the two of you been having relationship troubles? Or is this coming from out of the blue?”
“Out of the blue. At least, I think so. Juno seemed cheerful enough yesterday.”
“Has everything been going well with their art?”
“As far as I know. They were working on a piece they were really excited about…until today.”
I shot Charles a glance. “They aren’t excited about it anymore?”
Charles shook his head. “This morning, they—they—” Charles rubbed a shaky hand over his eyes. “They destroyed it.”
“Oh.”
Charles took his bottom lip between his teeth, then released it. “It was a painting of me.”
“Oh, sweetie,” I said, the endearment coming naturally, even though I barely knew Charles. I examined him as he sat huddled in the car beside me, almost disappearing inside the puffy jacket, his chin down against his chest, his hands clasped in his lap.
“I don’t know why they did that,” Charles muttered.
I thought I knew what might be going on. Juno had occasional bouts of neuroses, centered around their ability to fulfill their artistic vision. “Juno tends to deal with these sorts of things in a very dramatic way.”
“What sorts of things?”
“Self-doubt. Imposter syndrome.”
Charles looked confused. “Imposterwhat?”
I shook my head. “It’s a thing all artists go through. Most of them go through itquietly.”
“Huh,” Charles said.
“Juno doesn’t do anything quietly.”
Charles sighed and looked out of the window. “Yeah, I’ve figured that out.”
When we got to the apartment building where they lived, Charles directed me to a Visitor parking spot then took me up to the tenth floor and the apartment he shared with Juno. The building was one of the nicer ones in the city, and the property values at this place must be high. Leave it to Juno to only settle for the best. I’d been here a handful of times, but I realized at that moment that it had been a long time since I’d seen the flamboyant artist.
When Charles keyed us in, he gazed around before moving forward into the empty rooms.
“Charles, Juno’s not been physically aggressive with you—or anything?” I asked, because Charles looked wary.
But he shook his head. “No. I just hate to see them so upset and out of control. I don’t know what they’ll do next—not to me, but to themself or the apartment…or their art. It’s hard to…watch.”
“Sure.” I could understand feeling overwhelmed in a situation like this. I was older and had more experience dealing with eccentric personalities, having hobnobbed with musicians and artists most of my life. I knew Juno and was confident they wouldn’t do anything drastic. At least, I didn’t think they would.
“They’re either in the bedroom or their studio—unless they’ve gone out,” Charles said in low tones, his face pale.
“Okay. Let’s check the bedroom first. Why don’t you knock and see if you can engage them. I’ll be right behind you.”
Charles nodded, his face full of worry as he led me to a door past the luxury kitchen. He knocked three times.
