Kissing in Action (9 page)

"Nope, you can't," I smiled. I decided against telling him I'd already tried to remove myself from the case and gotten shot down. "Okay. I'm going to head home, but I'll share the letters if you share the autopsy and forensic findings. Deal?"

"Deal," Maddox agreed. "Although you know, I could just requisition the letters without making any deals with you?"

I did know that, so I just laughed and began to clear my plate.

"No, leave it. I'll clear the plates. It was nice having dinner with you."

"Yeah, I enjoyed it too."

"Better than eating alone, right?"

I nodded, stepping past him to retrieve my coat from the entryway. I grabbed it from the peg, turning to pull it over my shoulders when I knocked a couple of envelopes to the floor. I reached for them, intending to return them to the small shelf. As I turned them over, the top item wasn't in an envelope, and I blinked in surprise as I looked at it. A booking for two at a romantic, little inn near Lake Pierce for the weekend. Hurriedly, I dropped the papers onto the shelf, and turned as Maddox stepped into the entryway.

"Don't forget your ice cream," he said, handing me the carton. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Chapter Seven

"How do you know it's a romantic getaway?" Lily asked. I was lying in bed, and the first thing I'd done upon waking was make a coffee, return to bed, and call Lily.

"I'll send you the website. It's gorgeous. Ten bedrooms all individually styled. Queen-sized beds. Freestanding bathtubs. Views either above the lake, or the gardens. Couples massages. Do I need to say more? I've been trying to get a free weekend with Solomon to go there over the last few months."

"Definitely not taking his mom," said Lily. "Did you ask who he is taking?"

"No! I put the papers back on the shelf and pretended I didn't see them."

"What happened then?" Lily gasped.

"He gave me my ice cream and we hugged and kissed..."

"Say what?!"

"On the cheek, Lily! And then I left and came home and found four missed calls from Solomon."

"Did you call him back and tell him you couldn't answer because you were having an intimate dinner for two with your ex on the table where you once did it?" Lily asked breathlessly.

"No, I said my phone was in my purse and I didn't hear it."

"Oh. So, what are you going to do now?"

"Nothing."

"That's not much fun. I thought we could stake out Maddox and find out who his new girlfriend is. What if it's that detective? The one he may or may not have done the nasty with?"

"He swears he didn't and I believe him and... I don't know. What if it is her?" I asked, thinking of Detective Rebecca Blake. I hadn't heard her name in a while and didn't know what happened to her after Maddox joined the FBI.

"We need to find out."

"We don't. I don't. This is his personal business."

Lily snorted. "Sure it is. That's why we're analyzing it at seven thirty. Let's face it, I'm dying to know and so are you."

"I'm not stalking my ex."

"It's not stalking if he doesn't know about it. We all know that. I think it's the law."

"I'm pretty sure it's not."

"But are you positive?"

I thought about it. "Yes, I'm positive stalking Maddox is not okay."

"So you're going to ask him instead?"

"No!"

"Good thing. You can never show casual interest in your ex's new smooch-partner. That
is
the law. I'm positive about that one."

"I agree. Do I tell him I saw his booking? Or pretend I know nothing and wait for him to say something? What do I do? "

"Beats me. You didn't agree to any of the fun stuff that would allow us to find out without asking."

"I'm going to pretend to know nothing."

"Kind of sounds like your case."

I stuck my tongue out at the phone.

"Saw that," said Lily. "Don't pretend you didn't do that."

I laughed. "I need to tell you more about the case. Crazy stuff happened yesterday, and now Maddox wants to work together."

"What can be so crazy about America's new sweethearts?" Lily asked. Just as I was about to tell her exactly what, she said, "Oh, gotta go. Got a delivery at nine and I need to get ready."

"Let's get togeth... Lily? Lily?" I asked, but it was no use. She had already hung up.

I tossed my cell phone onto the nightstand and reached for my coffee, wondering if the uncomfortable feeling I had that Lily was avoiding me was just that: a feeling. So what if she were hanging out with my mom and going to the mall alone? I did those things too. After a long sip, I decided I was just being paranoid. Lily had been my best friend for more years than I had fingers to count. She was busy running the bar, I decided, and enjoying her married life with the man of her dreams. I could hardly point the finger at her without looking inwardly. There were times when I'd blown Lily off in favor of a night with Solomon, or because I was working a case. That was grownup life, I decided. It might assist in the purchase of fabulous heels, but it played havoc with our social engagements.

After finishing my coffee, I showered, washed my hair, blew it dry, and dressed in my favorite blue skinny jeans and pink shirt. I finished off the outfit with cream flats and a cream leather purse that I hoped said effortlessly stylish. After a quick breakfast of yogurt and fruit, I made my way slowly to the agency office.

Delgado and Fletcher were at their desks when I arrived.

"Good morning!" I chirped.

"Who you gonna kill today?" asked Delgado.

"You're at the top of the list!"

Delgado spun around in his seat, smiling. He wore baggy jeans, a plain, navy t-shirt, and a gray hoodie under his leather jacket. There was a plain cap on the desk, and next to that, his telephoto lens and a thick file. Clearly he'd just gotten off a job. "Seriously, we leave you alone for a few minutes and a corpse turns up."

I refused to be any less chirpy. "I didn't kill her!"

"You were asked to do one simple job," Fletcher added. "Delgado, here, just took down a local drug dealing ring. I just filed a report on my mark, a guy with not one, not two, but
three
wives."

"Man is he going down in divorce court," said Delgado with a shake of his head.

"What's your point?" I asked.

"You get a blackmail case and it turns into murder!" finished Fletcher. "Our marks just stuck with the crimes we originally busted them for."

"Not my fault." I couldn't help pouting. I really never saw Katya's murder coming. Now, with less than twenty-four hours since her death, which hadn't yet broken in the national media, I was ready to re-double my efforts to find the blackmailer, in the hope that would lead me to the killer.

Delgado and Fletcher both had wide grins. "Just playing with ya, Lexi," said Delgado. "Could have happened to anyone. Need a hand?"

"No, I'm going to look into the band’s past to see what I can find. Simple background checks today. All done in the office. Nothing dangerous for me today." As I said it, I shuddered. Yesterday, it hadn't occurred to me, but now it did. I was mere yards away from a murderer. I was on my way to see Katya. I could so easily have bumped into the murderer and wound up as collateral damage. Yet, I didn't bump into him, or her. In fact, from what I could glean, no one saw anyone leaving Katya's suite after Lauren left. How could that have happened? If there was no evidence on Lauren to connect her to the crime — although she was seen leaving the room after loudly threatening Katya — then how did someone else get in and out without being seen? That reminded me: how did Shelley escape from the locked room where I was trapped inside?

"You've got a look," said Fletcher. "I don't know what it means, but I know one when I see one."

"How could someone get in and out of a room without being seen?" I asked.

"What kind of a room? Katya's suite?" he guessed, correctly.

I nodded. "Lauren was seen leaving, but she denies being the killer."

"They all say that," interrupted Delgado, waving for me to continue.

"Let's say she didn't do it. How does someone else get in and out without being seen?"

"More than one exit," said Fletcher.

I put my palm on my forehead.
Could it really be that simple?
"I didn't see one."

"Doesn't mean it isn't there."

I picked up my desk phone and dialed Solomon.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, and I guessed he was alone.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At home. What's up?"

"Can you get blueprints for the hotel?"

"I have them already. Why?"

"Does Katya's suite show any extra exits aside from the main door leading onto the hallway that connects all the suites?"

"Not that I recall."

"I'm playing devil's advocate for Lauren. I think there might be another exit. Assuming Lauren didn't kill Katya, that's why no one saw the murderer enter or exit their suite."

There was a long silence. I was about to say Solomon's name when he said, "I'll get on it. Anything else?"

"No. That's it."

"Dinner later?"

I turned away slightly, dropping my voice to whisper into the phone. It was unprofessional to arrange a date with the boss, but I had an important question to ask: "Are you cooking?"

"Yes. Be here at seven."

"I'll bring wine. Any preference?"

"Victoria's Secret."

"I don't think they do... oh!" I smiled. "Okay. Later, John." I hung up, swinging around. Delgado and Fletcher stared at me with their arms crossed and silly smiles on their faces. "Oh, shut up," I said, but I didn't mean it.

Opening up my laptop, I set up four new files, one for each member of B4U. I needed to find out about their pasts, and not just the squeaky clean stories they fed to the media. What I needed were their real histories, the parts of their lives that would reveal the secrets the blackmailer already knew. At the moment, however, I was several steps behind that mystery player. I needed to get ahead. Even more pressing, I needed to find out if the murderer and blackmailer were the same person. Second, I had to pare down my suspect pool.

Somehow, I didn't think the band would agree to having their personal lives so closely scrutinized in order to find the blackmailer, but I tried to ignore the mild discomfort I felt at poking through their pasts. After all, I was doing it in order to help them. Since no one except Shelley would tell me any secrets, I had to find them out for myself.

The question was: whom to start with? I decided on Katya.
Could her secret have been the reason for her murder?
I wondered, as I started with simple searches. To save time, I put in requests for Shelley, Lauren, and Amelia's birth records, as well as their financials, DMV licenses, and details of their former residences. Some of those I could get by legal means; some of them Lucas could access. I never asked how he got them either. While I waited on those, I printed the photos I took the previous day of the blackmail letters and spread them out across my desk.

On a large pad of paper, I wrote
Katya - Russia?
Under that, I added:
Shelley - ten years ago
. I added
sex tape
to that since Shelley readily admitted what her blackmail secret was. Then I added
Amelia
and
secret
, the only clue offered in the letters. Finally, I added
Lauren - Michael?

Calling up an internet browser, I began to type Katya's full name, but
auto fill
suggested "found dead", "murdered", and "tragic death" as the first three possible options. Clearly, her death had leaked to the press. I clicked the top option and scrolled through the news reports. All the national papers mentioned it as well as most of the gossip blogs. Some ran the story with photos of her covered body being removed from the hotel on a gurney before it was loaded into the coroner's van. It was gratuitous and served no purpose. The press, I noted, already had the basic information of the murder case. They all knew it wasn't a natural death, and the police were treating it as a murder. Their accounts differed as to whether there was a suspect, or someone in custody, or any suspects at all. There were a few shots of a distraught-looking Lauren, and more where she hid her pale face behind dark glasses. Fortunately, to my relief, there was nothing in the press about B4U's raucous afternoon escape.

I returned to the search page and typed Katya's full name again, adding "Russia" to my search query, before hitting
enter.
There were hundreds of pages. I opened the first one, an interview where Katya spoke at length about her early years in Russia, and her family's struggles to reach the US and settle here. The other pages I opened had the same or similar stories in varying degrees of detail. Very few of the articles carried any photos of Katya's early life, but that was easy to write off as her family being too poor to own a camera. It puzzled me, however, that there were no candid shots taken later from elementary or high school, or even from a yearbook. Katya often talked about school and her struggles to learn English so I knew she attended school. Surely someone had evidence to disprove her public story? Why hadn't they sold them?

"Got the birth records," said Lucas, tapping me on the shoulder and making me jump.

"That was fast. Do I want to know how?"

"No. Just know that I have my ways. I couldn't get Katya's, but I figured she was born in Russia, so that's no surprise. I'll reach out to my contacts there. I got her immigration papers..."

"How do you obtain this stuff?"

"Again, I have my ways. Here're the birth records for the other three. I thought they were all supposed to be teen stars or something."

"They started that way," I told him. "They're all in their early twenties now."

"Take a closer look at the dates on their certificates," Lucas said. "DMV licenses are here, but their financials are going to take a while. They've got high-level accounts. That means extra levels of security to overcome. They're probably used to hack attacks. Might be quicker just to ask them."