Kissing in Action (6 page)

"Guess it'll be easy to find out if it was her. No more letters will turn up!" Joe laughed. He took a long swig and returned the empty bottle to the table, having drained it in less than a couple of minutes.

I was just about to hit him with another question, when I heard his name being screamed across the room. The three of us looked around to see Lauren, shaking and sobbing. In front of her, three photographers shoved their cameras into her face, their incessant flashes making her blink as her hands flailed in vain attempts to push them away. The more she swung at them, the more they photographed her.

"Jeez," growled Joe, jumping to his feet, followed by Solomon and me.

"Wait here," Solomon instructed, trailing Joe.

I watched, rooted to the spot, as Solomon pushed back the photographers, allowing Joe enough space to wrap an arm around Lauren. He guided her away from the pack as the hotel manager and several bellboys hurried towards them.

"Get them outta here!" Solomon said loudly before giving one of the photographers a shove towards the nearest pair of bellboys. "Have you no respect?" he snapped at their parting backs before following Joe and Lauren. "Let's find a private room."

"I'm so sorry," said the hotel manager, grimacing as he approached. "Mr. Carter, we have no idea how they got in. We've posted security staff on every door since you arrived, and we even doubled up our usual security procedures and officers to ensure your party wouldn't be disturbed."

"They must have got a hundred shots," wailed Lauren, mascara streaking her cheeks. "This will be in all the papers. They asked me if I killed her!"

"Hush," consoled Joe, tightening his arm around her. "Get us a room, would you?" he said to the manager.

The manager beckoned us to follow him. We left the lounge and a dozen watchful eyes before crossing a short corridor. Entering through a door he unlocked, we came into a small room outfitted with comfortable couches and a wall lined with old books. "The library is at your disposal," the kind manager told us. "I'll have complimentary drinks and refreshments sent to you forthwith."

"And I'll assign my guys to the doors," added Solomon. "No one will get past them."

I followed the manager to the door. "Is this room always locked?" I asked.

"Not always, but we've been renovating the past couple of days, so it's been out of use. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you." He pulled the door shut behind him and I turned back to our party. I glanced at Joe, his arm wrapped around Lauren as he consoled her, wondering why he claimed to be in a room he couldn't possibly have been in.

"Thanks for getting me out of there," hiccupped Lauren before collapsing onto a couch. "I hate the paparazzi. They're... they're such vultures! And now they're going to publish photos of me looking a mess."

"Not a mess, honey. Devastated, inconsolable, at the death of someone who wasn't just a band mate, but a sister, and the paparazzi are just there to take advantage of your trauma. This is great PR for you."

Solomon and I exchanged WTF glances. As Joe spun the story, Lauren's tears subsided and her sobbing slowed to sniffs.

"You've had a hard morning," I said. "People will understand."

Lauren looked up, frowning when she saw me. "Who are you?" she asked.

Joe placed a hand on my shoulder. "This is Lexi Graves, the PI we hired. You met last night."

"Oh, right. I forgot. Hey."

"Hey," I said. "Are you okay to answer a few questions?"

"I already answered a whole bunch of questions that detective just fired at me. Hey, he was called Graves too. He gave me his card." Lauren patted her pockets, then reached for her purse, pulling it onto her lap and opening it, searching unsuccessfully.

"He's my brother and also a really great cop."

"He said I shouldn't talk about Katya with anyone."

"He didn't mean me," I told her, which was a lie. "He meant journalists and... umm... nosy people."

"Riiight," agreed Lauren. She screwed up her eyes, clearly thinking. "Am I supposed to have a lawyer? Joe, should I have a lawyer with me when I talk to the police?"

"Not yet," I said, before Joe could answer, "but call us if you like and we'll advise you. Also, we're not the police."

"So, I don't need a lawyer?"

"Is there a reason why you might need a lawyer?" Solomon asked.

"Like, no!" Lauren scoffed, batting her hand at him. "I didn't kill Katya. I told Detective Graves that, and he was all, okay. So, I'm innocent."

Joe nodded. "Then you don't need a lawyer, honey." He paused, looking worried. "All the same, if the police want to talk to you again, tell me, so I can call your lawyer."

"Okay," agreed Lauren readily, not asking Joe why. "Do I need a lawyer to talk to these people?"

"No, you don't. Joe hired us to look into the blackmail threats. We'd like to rule Katya's death out as having nothing to do with the blackmail..." I started, only to be interrupted by Lauren's squeal as she sat bolt upright.

"You mean the blackmailer killed Katya? Ohmygod, is he going to kill me too?"

"No, that's unlikely..."

"Ohmygod, ohmygod!"

"We just need to rule out..."

"It's like
Scream!
He's going to pick us off one-by-one! Ohmygod, Joe, he's probably already in the hotel. Get me a new suite! And I want someone to check under the bed and in the wardrobe! And I want a bodyguard and... and..."

"Breathe, Lauren, breathe," Joe repeated, taking Lauren's hand and patting it. "No one is going to hurt you," he added, glaring at me. "The investigators just need to ask you a few questions. I'll be here the whole time and then I'll assign one of the security team to look after you around the clock."

"Even when I'm sleeping? I can't have someone watch me when I'm sleeping. That's creepy."

"Whatever you want, honey. I promise you'll be safe."

"Well, okay, but I don't want to die, okay? Let’s be clear on that. I do not want to die!"

"You won't die," Joe said. A gentle incline of his head indicated I could start questioning again.

"Lauren, can you tell me what happened between you and Katya this morning?" I asked.

"Nothing. We hung out at the mall, but then it got a little crazy with all these girls following us, so we came back to the hotel. We went to our suite and I left after we got into it over some shoes. I planned to go downstairs but then Katya tried to steal my purse and we went back to the suite. She wouldn't let up so I left to see if Amelia was in her suite."

"Did you see Amelia?"

"No, she wasn't there. I called her and she said she was downstairs."

"What did you do next?"

"I hung out in Amelia's suite, waiting for her."

"Why didn't you return to your own suite?"

Lauren sighed. "Katya was in it."

"You two were having a lot of problems?"

"Not really. She was her usual mean self and I didn't want to be around her. She keeps taking my stuff."

Joe nodded. "I had to speak to Katya a few times about not borrowing the girls' things."

"She doesn't borrow, she steals!" Lauren replied, her mouth becoming a cross pout.

"Did you have an argument?"

"No, we were cool, but I can't believe I got stuck sharing a suite with her. Anyway, I waited for Amelia and thought I'd take a nap on their couch, when I heard someone yelling. It was really loud and annoying, and I figured one of our fans must’ve gotten into the hotel, so I just ignored it. Then this cop came and found me and said Katya was dead." Lauren sucked in a deep breath.

"Was anyone else with you?"

"Like... when?"

"After you left Katya?"

"Ummm... no."

"What about Shelley?"

"She wasn't in their suite either."

"Who do you think might have wanted to kill Katya?" I asked, changing my line of questioning slightly now that it was clear Lauren didn't have any alibi.

Lauren laughed. "Seriously?"

I didn't think it was a laughing matter at all, but Lauren seemed to think my question was hilarious. I waited until her giggling slowed to a splutter as she held her sides, then repeated the question.

"Pretty much everyone hated Katya," she said succinctly. "Including me."

"You threatened to kill her last night," I pointed out. "And today."

"Did I?" Lauren shrugged. "I think I must threaten to kill her once a day."

"You said you hoped she'd be stabbed to death."

"Uh, yah, look, I don't know what you're implying, but I didn't kill her, okay? Like I said, I was taking a nap in Amelia and Shelley's suite." Lauren folded her arms across her chest and wrinkled her nose. I figured I had a small window of time before she got so annoyed with my questions, she refused to answer any more, probably forever.

"Do you know Katya's secret?"

"The thing she was being blackmailed about? About Russia?"

"Yes. What was worth blackmailing her for about Russia?"

"All I know is that Katya lived there until she was five or six before she came to America. She had this big story about her family escaping as refugees and making their way here to start a new life. She told this whole sad story about being an immigrant and having to learn English from watching the TV while her dirt poor parents scraped out a living, only I don't think it was all true."

"Which bit? That she came from Russia?"

"No, that was true. I just don't think her parents came here as refugees. I think they fled Russia, but only because they were powerful and later became targets for... oh I don't know! The mafia or the government or something. I just overheard something years ago about her parents betraying someone or other. Anyway, Katya's family were super rich and they brought a lot of money with them and they never had to scrape out a living."

"Is that the kind of thing she'd want to be kept quiet?"

"Wouldn't you? The press would have had a field day running the expose. It's not really the American dream when your parents are megabuck traitors, is it?"

Chapter Five

"He's lying, she's lying," I told Solomon. We were on the top floor of the hotel, sitting in Joe's suite, and far away from the overly interested glances of the other hotel guests. I couldn't blame them for their curious stares. If I knew I were staying in the same hotel as a hot girl band, and one of them had just been murdered, I would have been looking too, and not just to check out their fashions. Since our conversation in the library, Lauren had become increasingly louder until she finally dissolved into sobs. I didn't think she was that upset about losing Katya, but rather, feared she was becoming our number one suspect. Finally, Joe spirited her away to "rest."

"That so?" asked Solomon, glancing towards the door as if one of the band members might burst in at any moment.

"I know Joe was definitely not where he said he was. I saw him in the housekeeping closet, making out with someone."

Solomon turned his head quickly. "Someone? A woman?"

"Yeah, but before you ask, no, I didn't see who; and they obviously didn't see me."

"You sure it was Joe?"

"One hundred percent. What I don't know is why he would make up that story about being in the library."

"So we can put Joe in the vicinity of Katya, as well as Lauren."

I nodded. "At least, Lauren wasn't lying about where she was. She told us she was in the suite, alone."

"That doesn't help her since she doesn't have an alibi. You said she was lying too. What about?"

"I know Lauren admitted they were arguing, and they were pretty obvious about it. I saw them going at it too, and it was definitely getting physical. When she left their suite right before Katya was killed, she even threatened Katya. My opinion is they were anything but cool."

"Lauren is not making life any easier for herself."

I sighed. "I know. She didn't make any attempts to give herself an alibi. If it were me, I would have, but could she really have killed Katya?"

Solomon shrugged, which wasn't a lot of help, although it echoed my own thoughts. Sure, Lauren had motive, but the question was: how much? Was a simple fight over a purse, or shoes, or even credit for the lyrics enough motive to kill a person? Some women would have said yes, and while I busily contemplated which of my purses might be worth killing for, I also had to decide whether their arguments ran any deeper than that. Judging by what I'd seen and gleaned so far, I had to conclude that the band's problems must have been going on for a long time; and overall resentment was already established... but had it grown to the point of turning Lauren into a murderer?

I had a lot of problems with the hypothesis that Lauren was the killer. For one thing, while we interviewed her, she still had on the same outfit she was wearing when I saw her and Katya exiting the elevator that morning. Blood must have been splashed on the killer, yet there was none on Lauren's clothing. That didn't mean she hadn't changed her clothes, or even taken the time to change
before
the murder, and redressed into her former outfit afterwards, but it seemed rather unlikely.

Despite all of those contradictions, of one thing I felt certain. "I can't rule Lauren out definitively," I told Solomon. "Not when the facts are: she had motive, access, and opportunity."

"And Joe?"

"Potentially the same. It sounds like he crossed paths with Katya more than a few times; plus, he's lying about his whereabouts at the time of the murder, which is another red flag and mark against him."

"We need to interview them all."

"Regarding the blackmail or the murder?"

"Both. Let's find Amelia and Shelley and see what they have to say."

"This is nice," I told Solomon as we rose simultaneously. "Working together, I mean. I thought I'd be on my own for the blackmail case, just staring at those same cryptic letters over and over."

"You have poor expectations of
nice
. Why don't I take you out to dinner later? Then I can show you what
nice
truly is."

"If you raise my expectations, you might be sorry."

Solomon smiled as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Doubt it."

~

Amelia and Shelley were in their suite along with Joe. A tray of teas and coffees sat between them on the coffee table, along with another tray laden with sandwiches and snacks. Amelia was nibbling on a sandwich while playing with her cell phone and Shelley sipped what appeared to be a glass of champagne.

"How's Lauren?" I asked when we entered.

"Sleeping. She had a tough morning," replied Joe. He reclined his chair and stretched out his arms along the back. Amelia glanced at the hand closest to her, but made no move from the spot where her legs were curled under her.

"She had a brilliant morning," Shelley muttered. Amelia glanced over, raised her eyebrows, but said nothing as her phone beeped again.

"Shelley, have some sympathy," Joe said with an annoyed shake of his head. "I thought it best if Lauren relaxed a little. She had a rough morning, what with finding Katya, and talking to the police. Then that nasty incident with the paparazzi..."

"Lauren got her photo taken?" Shelley said, her mouth dropping open. "So, she gets to be on tomorrow's tabloid covers? Great!"

"Shelley," Joe warned before she shut up, and took a deliberately longer sip of her champagne. "The PR debriefing really wore her out and she's beat. I told her to take a nap in Amelia's room. Take a seat. Have some refreshments. What can we do for you?"

"We'd like to talk to Shelley and Amelia," Solomon said as we sat down. Shelley brightened. "The more we understand about the blackmail, the easier we can separate it from Katya's murder."

"I thought it was the same person," said Amelia, dropping her phone as her attention was visibly drawn. "I wish I could tell you more but I was downstairs when Katya was killed. I guess I was lucky. It could easily have been any of us alone."

"We don't know if it was the same person yet," said Solomon. "That's why we want to talk to you further. We've reviewed the blackmailer's letters and we want to talk to you about Katya's."

"I didn't see Katya's," said Shelley.

"Me neither," agreed Amelia. "But I heard about them."

"What do you know about the Russia secret?" I asked, wondering if their versions tallied with Lauren's.

Shelley and Amelia exchanged glances, but didn't say anything.

"C'mon," I cajoled. "Whatever it is, it can't hurt Katya now."

After a long moment of silence, Shelley shrugged. "Guess not. I heard Katya's rags-to-riches story was kind of suspect."

"How so?"

"Well, she was supposed to be dirt poor, but we bumped into someone who knew her at one of our concerts, some PR chick, and apparently, they went to the same private school. I looked it up online. It's super expensive and exclusive. You don't go there if your parents are scraping out a living."

"Do you know how they got their money? Could they have made it here?"

"Sorry, that's all I know, but I wouldn't put it past Katya not to have concocted the whole thing. She was a compulsive liar, you know."

"Really?"

"Totally! Everything that came out of her mouth was a lie! She'd tell her crappy life story to journalists; and they'd all print it as if Katya was some amazing success and prodigy! Anyone can be successful if their parents pay for their 'in.’ The rest of us had to work to get into B4U. She just waltzed right into the final auditions and grabbed a spot."

"Is that correct?" I asked Joe.

"Before my time. I joined B4U as their manager once they wanted to take their TV career to the next level and break into music. I wasn't involved in the auditioning process," he told us.

I took a long, lingering look at the tasty-looking sandwiches before I asked my next question. "Did that create problems within the group?"

This time, Amelia answered. "Not at first. We all knew Katya was talented. She could sing, dance, act, and really, her story was an asset to the band… at first. We all had our own background stories, something that made us a little different from each other, so there would be someone special for every fan. We were supposed to be the people our fans might be. We were actually really good friends for the first couple of years."

"What happened to change that?"

"Katya," Amelia and Shelley chimed.

"How's that?" Solomon prompted.

Shelley fixed him with a perfect, white smile and I had to repress my urge to sigh. The last thing I needed was having someone in the band develop a crush on my boyfriend. On the other hand, maybe after a few more flashes of his sexy smile and smoldering eyes, and we'd have the case in the bag by the evening.

"She went from being a pain, to becoming a pain in the ass. Everything had to be about her. Everything was always about what she wanted; and if it didn't turn out that she was the star, she would try to sabotage the deal, or make some last minute change that always resulted in her getting the spotlight. You remember our last album cover?" she asked, turning to Amelia.

Amelia nodded, her mouth tightening. "We were all supposed to wear these little black numbers, but Katya's costume amazingly disappeared, leaving her with only a white dress. We were already three hours into the desert, and there was no time to get another costume, so the whole shoot had to be centered on Katya looking different from the rest of us."

"We looked like her backup singers!" snarled Shelley. "She did the same thing for our calendar too."

"She didn't even write a single song on the album," added Amelia. "Or sing a solo track. Lauren and I wrote them all."

"I'm not talented at songwriting," said Shelley, holding up her hand, "and I totally admit it."

"But you sang an amazing solo track," said Amelia.

"Were those things that Katya did the source of the bad feelings in the band?" I asked, only to be met with stony,
are you serious?
faces.

"Katya's antics didn't make anyone happy. She was a lot of work," interjected Joe. "But yeah, over all, she caused bad feelings."

"And that was only one thing," continued Shelley, finishing her champagne and banging the glass onto the coffee table. "Let’s not forget how she messed with our costumes, and did not turn up for interviews! Then she’d call the journalist or whomever, herself, to make sure she got extra column inches, or even a solo profile!"

"Or that time when she told us our gig at an exclusive club was canceled before she turned up and did a solo acoustic set..." Amelia said.

"That was an administration error," started Joe.

He was temporarily cut off by Shelley's loud “Harrumph!”

"Sure, it was, Joe. We all knew it was Katya. Or when she switched the photos in our calendar two years ago so that she got all the best months! Or that time she made sure my dress was sent back right before the awards show I was presenting! And I had to borrow a second-rate dress from my stylist! Or that time she broke Amelia's guitar..."

"We get the picture," said Solomon.

"You have no idea," said Shelley, leaning towards Solomon. She tossed her hair and gave him a pretty smile, "But maybe if we got together later, I could go through a few other things with you..."

"I have plans later," said Solomon. "Let me ask you both a simple question. Did either of you like Katya?"

Amelia and Shelley exchanged looks again. "No," they both said in unison.

"Why didn't you ask her to leave the band if she was causing so many problems?" I asked.

"We wanted to, but we're under contract. It didn't matter what she did, and she knew it. None of us can leave," Amelia explained.

Shelley nodded. "We were stuck with her until..."

"Until now," Amelia finished.

"Now we're free," Shelley said with a high-five for Amelia.

"I don't see what any of this has to do with the blackmail," Joe interrupted as the pair of girls started to seriously celebrate their good fortune.

"It's all part of the investigation," Solomon said, smoothly glossing over our questioning. "Joe, how was your relationship with Katya?"

"Purely professional, I can assure you. Katya and I were okay, but like Amelia and Shelley already said, she was a difficult character. We had our run-ins; and yes, she caused problems, but she knew who was boss."

"Katya," said Shelley, and Amelia giggled. Joe ignored them.

"Could we take a look at Katya's contract?" Solomon asked him. "It will help us work out the dynamics involved in keeping the band together."

"I can't show it to you, but I can tell you the basics. The girls are all under contract to stay with the band. They can't quit unless it's for a very serious reason, such as severe illness or poor health. The band members were specifically selected and put together; and management wants them to stay together."

"Can they be fired?" I asked.