CELEBRITY STATUS (The Kate Huntington mystery series #4) (7 page)

            “Oh, no, I’m not sure we should do that. It’ll get in the news then, and others may try to do the same thing, and the location of the farm may come out.”

            “What would you have me do instead, Cherise? We have to involve the police once we know who it is, or there’s no way to get him to stop,” Skip said.

            “Couldn’t you just talk to him, intimidate him into stopping?” She looked at him, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

            “I’m not a thug. I don’t threaten to beat people up if they don’t behave.”

            “I bet you’d do more than threaten if it was Kate being stalked,” Cherise said, a touch of acid in her voice.

            Skip stiffened. He paused to choose his words. “That’s irrelevant. We need to address the matter at hand.”

            He was interrupted by two sharp knocks on the front door, followed by Rose’s muffled voice, “Hernandez and Randolph.” Ben headed for the door to let them in.

            “I want more people staying here,” Cherise was demanding as they trooped in. “I want
you
here, Skip. I only feel safe when you’re around.”

            “Cherise,” Skip said, keeping his voice gentle, “I understand that you’re spooked. I’ll put extra personnel inside and out, but I can’t stay. I have to go to Tiffany’s in New York to check out who bought the bracelet.”

            “Send Rose. I want you here!”

            Skip considered trying to explain that he was much more likely to be able to charm a salesperson at Tiffany’s into telling him what they needed to know than Rose could. He decided to save his breath.

            “Look, Cherise. If you want me to be in charge of your security, then you have to let me be in charge. Otherwise, you’re going to have to hire another firm to take over. I’d be happy to recommend a good one.”

            Cherise looked at him in horror. The tears were back. “You can’t abandon me!”

            “I have no intention of doing so, but you have to let me do my job. I’m either in charge of security or I’m not. What’ll it be?”

            She paused a second, then said, “You’re in charge.”

             “Okay, here’s the plan. Rose and Dolph are going to ask around, see if anybody saw who put the box in your mailbox. I’m going to New York tomorrow. If this guy is who we suspect it is, then we’ll know who to be on the lookout for at Merriweather on Friday.”

            “I’m cancelling that damn concert. I don’t care if it is bad PR,” Cherise said.

            “I wish you wouldn’t. We’ve got the security set-up there under control, and this will be a great chance to catch him in the act and stop him cold.”

            After a brief pause, Cherise nodded.

            “I need to talk to Rose and Dolph for a few minutes.” Skip stood. Cherise grabbed his hand as he walked past her. “I’ll be right back,” he said, pulling his hand free as gently as possible and gesturing to Rose and Dolph to join him in the kitchen.

            “I’m not sure why,” Skip said in a low voice, “but my instincts are telling me not to let on to her who we suspect, until we’re sure. She’s just too unpredictable right now.” He wouldn’t put it past Cherise to hire somebody else to beat Lansing up.

            “Looks like she’s got the hots for you, partner,” Rose said, flashing him a megawatt grin.

            Skip ignored her comment. “You got your fingerprint kit with you?” he asked her.

            Rose nodded. Skip pointed toward the wrapping paper, box and bracelet laying on the table. “Ben tried to keep the handling of them to a minimum, but the housekeeper and Cherise had already touched the box before he got it. Nobody touched the bracelet.”

            “Except, hopefully, the sender. Oh, looky what I see,” Rose said. “Scotch tape! Might just get us a lovely print off of that.”

            “Dolph, are you willing to stay here tonight, along with Ben?” Skip asked.

            The older man nodded, then grinned. “Afraid of her, aren’t ya, son?”

            “Okay, both of you, stop.” They didn’t. They were grinning at him like twin Cheshire cats. “Alright, yes, she scares the shit out of me,” Skip hissed at them in a low voice. “Are you happy now? Can we get back to work?”

            “I don’t know. Are you happy, Rose?” Dolph asked, his face deadpan.

            “Yeah, I think that’s about as good as it gets.” Rose grinned, keeping her voice low so the client wouldn’t overhear. “Skip Canfield, the man who has faced down killers without blinking an eye, is scared of a hundred pound girlie girl.”

            “Cut it out,” Skip said, but he couldn’t help grinning a little at their good-natured teasing. “Tomorrow, Dolph, we’ll send another bodyguard to babysit with Ben. I need you to do two things. Get your hands on a good photo of Lansing, maybe in back issues of the celebrity rags from when they were dating. A good head shot. Make about four dozen copies, so everybody and his uncle can have one Friday night. Then take another warm body for back-up and go see Lansing again. See what he was up to this afternoon, but more importantly, try to get something with his prints on it.”

            “Are we going to try again for a restraining order if we get more proof it’s Lansing?” Rose asked.

            “I’m thinking not until after Merriweather. Hopefully he’ll make a move and we’ll catch him there. If not, then it’s restraining order time.”

            “Those things aren’t worth much more than the paper they’re written on if the guy’s a nutcase,” Dolph pointed out.

            “Yeah, we’ll actually be hoping he violates so we can get him arrested and throw the fear of some serious jail time into him, if he persists,” Skip said. “Anybody object if I go home now and kiss my sleeping children?”

            “Not us, but Cherise might,” Rose said.

            And she did. When Skip informed her he was leaving, she once again rushed him and threw her arms around him. He reached back and pried her hand off his gun butt, then held her hands in both of his. “Cherise, you’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got things under control.” Silently he thanked his wife for those words.

            “I’m going to send in another guy to stay with you and Ben until Dolph’s finished canvassing the neighbors. Then Dolph’s going to stay tonight, along with Ben. He’s one of our best operatives, Cherise. Only the best for you. But I’ve got to investigate who’s doing this. And get some ducks in a row for Friday. Coordinate with Howard County cops and Merriweather security.” He’d already done that, but he wanted her to think he planned to spend the evening working her case, rather than kissing his kids and making love to his wife.

            “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised, and was finally able to pull loose from her and get out the door.

* * *

            Skip got up well before dawn in order to catch the seven-thirty Acela train to New York. He arrived at Tiffany & Co. on Fifth Avenue just as they were opening the doors. Making a mental note of the fare and tip he had given the cabby so he could add it to his expense report later, he donned the Stetson he had dug out of the back of his closet, along with his Western-style suit. Entering the store, he sought out one of the female sales staff.

            “Howdy, ma’am,” he said, as the young woman greeted him. Laying the hat on the counter, he poured a considerable amount of Texas into his voice as he told the saleswoman he was looking for a bauble for his wife. For some reason, a Texas accent often seemed to charm the ladies.

            “My friend, Timmy Lansing, said he was in couple a weeks back. Got himself a gold doodad for his girlfriend. Showed it to me ’fore he gave it to her. Had some real nice engravin’ on it. Thought I might get one of them fer the missus.”

            The saleswoman showed him quite a few gold bracelets. He kept shaking his head, even though he had recognized the one Cherise had received. Finally he said, “Don’t suppose you could look up what ole Timmy got, now could you?”

            “Certainly, sir,” the young woman said, and pulled out a ledger to rest it on the counter. “Two weeks ago, you said.”

            “’Bout that, as I recollect,” Skip drawled.

            “Hmm, well, Mr. Lansing did make a purchase two weeks ago, but it was a pearl necklace. However, I seem to recall he was in more recently than that.” She flipped forward in the book. “Ah, here it is. He was in just this past weekend. Bought a gold bracelet, number 165490.” She pointed to the tray of bracelets they had just perused. “This one, sir.”

            “Ah, now, darned if that isn’t it. Guess I didn’t recognize it without the fancy engravin’ on that there gold plate.”

            “Uh, sir, this is a rather inexpensive bracelet. We stock them mainly for the kids, you know, to give to their girlfriends.”

            “Well now, how much is it exactly, ma’am?” Skip asked.

            “Only two hundred dollars. I can show you something much nicer that your wife would be sure to be thrilled with.”

            Skip was trying to hide his shock that this young woman considered a two-hundred-dollar bracelet inexpensive. He was also trying to fathom what teenagers could afford a little bauble like that for their girlfriends. Even the rich kids in his hometown would have considered two hundred dollars a bit on the expensive side.

            “Well now, that sure doesn’t sound like Timmy,” he drawled. “Never thought that boy was such a cheapskate.”

            “Oh no, sir. He bought a pair of diamond earrings the same day. He probably just liked the bracelet because he could get a fair amount of engraving on it. It will hold up to fifty characters and spaces.”

            “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure that’s why he got it. ‘Our love forever. Til death do us part.’ Darn romantic of ole Timmy, that was.” The saleswoman glanced down at the book and nodded.

            He grinned.
Yup, Lansing sent the bracelet. Got ’im cold.
Skip considered trying to bribe the woman for a copy of the sales book page, but decided she would probably take offense. Easy enough to subpoena it later, if need be.

            Out loud he said, “Hmm, diamond earrings. Now there’s a thought.” He’d been contemplating whether or not to buy the bracelet and get it engraved with something, just to complete the charade, but... “My sweet Kate has a diamond necklace but I don’t believe she has earrings. What do you have in those sparkly little devils?”

            Forty-five minutes later, Skip was in another cab headed back to the train station. Tucked away in his inside jacket pocket was a pair of solitaire diamonds, set in platinum, in one of Tiffany’s trademark robin’s egg blue boxes. They had cost him half a month’s salary but he’d had to have them. He was fairly sure they were a match, in clarity and color, for the diamond necklace he’d given Kate their first Christmas together.

CHAPTER SIX

            Kate and Rob were halfway through their lunch when Kate’s cell phone rang in her purse. She pulled it out, intending to turn it off. She found it annoying when people talked on cell phones in restaurants.

            But when she saw who it was, Kate changed her mind. “It’s Skip. He’s in New York today,” she told Rob as she answered it. “Sweetheart, I’m at lunch with Rob. What’s up?”

            She listened for a moment. “Do you want Rob to try again for the restraining order?”

            She listened some more. “About four-fifteen. My last client cancelled. Her son is home sick from school.”

            She listened again, cheeks a soft rosy glow as a grin spread across her face. “It’s a pretty day. I’m sure Maria won’t mind taking them to the park... Okay, sweetheart, see ya later.”

            “Hmm,” Rob said teasingly. “I’m not sure I should’ve been listening even to your end of that conversation.” When Kate’s blush turned a deeper red, he laughed out loud.

            “I guess we should be acting more like old married folks by now,” Kate said.

            “Lord, I hope that day never comes to pass. May Skip Canfield still be able to make you blush like a schoolgirl when you’re eighty, my dear.”

            Kate’s cheeks turned pink again. “The client thinks he’s spending the night in New York so we should have a peaceful evening for a change.” She was avoiding using Cherise’s name in public. “I have a waiver from her now to talk to both of you. So here’s the abbreviated version of what I told him. She’s fairly narcissistic. She wouldn’t think twice about letting someone get hurt, or having their reputation ruined, if it suited her purposes. She’s not completely lacking in empathy but other people’s feelings and needs won’t normally show up on her radar screen.”

            Kate took a sip of iced tea, then continued, “He has some concrete evidence against that guy, but he wants to hold off on the restraining order until after her concert on Friday. He’s hoping the guy will make a move and they’ll catch him in the act. If not, then he’ll ask you to go talk to the judge again.”

            “How concrete is the evidence?” Rob asked.

            “An engraved bracelet was delivered to her mailbox yesterday. Skip’s traced it back to Tiffany’s. The ex-boyfriend bought it last Saturday.”

            “That’s pretty concrete,” Rob said.

            “Yeah, but the timing is bothering me. This guy just doesn’t sound like the lovelorn type. More the vindictive, pissed-off type. Skip and Dolph talked to him last week. I can’t help wondering if maybe that interview gave him ideas. He may not be the guy who sent the earlier notes.”

            “Good point,” Rob said.

            “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about you-know-who anymore. Back to the party plans. If we’re doing this the week after Liz’s birthday, won’t she be disappointed when not much happens on her birthday?”

            “Ah, but that’s the beauty of it. She said she didn’t want a big fuss. This from the woman who announced my fiftieth birthday to everybody we know by inviting them all to that big bash.”

            “Come on, you loved every minute of it.”