Kissing in Action (24 page)

"Listen, AJ," I said, reading the nametag on his shirt. "We need your help. We need to review some security footage from the day Katya was murdered."

"I'm not supposed to show anyone that stuff," he said.

"Yeah? Well, I'm not supposed to hand out these free tickets," said Lauren.

"We won't take long," I told him. "I just need to confirm something; then we'll be gone. Plus, I’m with Lauren's security...""

AJ nodded. "Okay, I got the memo about the detective agency being allowed access to our footage. You're with those guys, right?"

"Yes, she is," said Lauren.

That seemed good enough for him. "Okay, tell me what you need."

The three of us sat in front of the monitors and I reconsidered pursuing a nice, safe career as a mall cop, sitting behind a nice, safe bank of security monitors full time, while we scrolled through the footage. "Stop; go back," I said, pointing to the top right of the screen. "Focus on this segment."

"Got it." The segment filled the screen and we watched a man walking through the employee entrance, his face hidden under a cap as he kept his head down. A maid bumped him with a cart and he jumped to the side, looking up and giving the camera an excellent view of his face.

"That's Don," said Lauren.

"And that's exactly what we need. Can you find out where he went from here?" I asked, and AJ began to punch some buttons.

"Maybe. We recently installed a face-reading algorithm… If I set it to run his face to this specific time window... there. Got him. That’s him walking through the kitchen... here he appears again by the service elevator, and here he is, exiting it, thirty minutes later. We can follow him back to the employee entrance."

We watched, totally rapt as Don appeared on screen again and exited the service elevator. This time, his jacket was wadded in his hand, but he still wore his cap. "Can I get a copy of that?" I asked.

"Sure. I can email it to you now."

I gave him my personal email address and brought up the email program on my phone. A moment later, I got a notification saying the email had arrived.

"Thank you so much," said Lauren, giving AJ a bright smile as she counted off four tickets and passed them to him.

"My girls are going to be thrilled. These seats are amazing."

"Do you always carry tickets around with you?" I asked as we moved towards the door.

"Sure, they're great currency."

"That's smart." I leaned in, adding quietly, "You know what would be smarter? Telling me who Michael is."

"You know what's smarter than that? You proving to everyone I'm not the murderer." Lauren paused as her cell phone rang. "Adios! Gotta go!" she said as she clicked off her call. "I'm being called to set early. They probably want me to finish filming before I get arrested."

"Don't forget..."

"Call a lawyer, then call you, if that happens."

"That's right, and don't worry. I know you didn't do this. This video should prove that."

Lauren surprised me by stopping to give me a quick hug as we paused at the door. "Thank you for believing in me. Can you get out by yourself?"

"No problem," I assured her. I watched her rounding the corner before I did an about face and stepped back into the security suite, closing the door.

"Hey, thanks again for these tickets," said AJ, looking up. "I just called my wife and she screamed with joy. I haven't heard her scream like that since I proposed."

"You're welcome. Actually, I hoped you might be able to help me with something else."

"Sure. Anything."

"Can you run Lauren's face through your facial recognition program?"

"Yeah, I can run anyone's face."

"Can you limit it to a specific time window?"

"Sure."

I gave him the date and he looked up, alarmed. "That's when her friend was killed. You think she and this guy were in on it together?"

"No!"

"Is she a suspect?"

"Oh no," I said, grasping for a valid reason to see the footage. "I just wanted to test the software, and it was the first time I could think of."

"Right. Okay. Here's the first sighting of her in that time frame," said AJ, pointing to a screen as he called up the digital video file. We watched Lauren exiting the elevator.

"Where is she there? That doesn't look like the lobby or the penthouse suites."

"It's the sixth floor."

I frowned, wondering what business she had up there. The camera followed her as she walked along the corridor, apparently entirely unconcerned. She knocked on a room at the end. The door opened and she stepped inside.

"Can we skip ahead to the next time her face is recognized by the software?"

"Sure." AJ tapped his keys and the tape sped ahead, slowing down as Lauren reappeared on the screen. The time stamp read an hour later.

"Was she in that room for the whole hour?"

"Yeah, looks that way. The software would have picked up her face if she were anywhere else."

"Do you know whose room it is?"

"Nah. I don't have access to that kind of stuff. I just get to watch guests making out in the elevators; and check that the maids aren't stealing the robes. You can try the reception desk downstairs. They'll know who booked the room."

I thanked AJ again for his help and left. I was pleased at discovering something else that could help me prove Lauren definitely wasn't in on the murder. So far, my freelance PI career was going great! I knew where Lauren was at the time Katya died, and I knew someone else was in the room to alibi her. I also had a much better suspect; one I could tie to being seen at the hotel during the time he was supposed to have been at the hospital. Unfortunately, what I didn't have was any direct evidence to link him to Katya at the moment of her death. His visit to the kitchen, prior to taking the service elevator, was something. I figured he could have grabbed the knife then, concealing it in his jacket on the way down.

I paused at the corridor junction. I was wondering if I should take the stairs up to the sixth floor, and knock on the mystery room’s door, or head downstairs and get out of the hotel before my luck ran out.
What if I happened to run into Solomon or Joe Carter?
Just then, my cell phone rang, causing me to jump.

Solomon.

I groaned inwardly and hit
reject
. I just couldn't deal with him now. I was too angry. I was angry that he took me off the case after I was set up, angry that he couldn't see that, angry that I quit my job, and angry that he let me. I was also really pissed off that he took so long to call. I felt undervalued and mistrusted and I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. I had to solve a case.

My decision made, I headed downstairs toward the kitchen, stopping short as I spotted Solomon and Josh Alvarez crossing the corridor, also heading in the direction of the kitchen.

"Damn it," I muttered, realizing my path was blocked. Peering around the corridor, I searched for another route. Delgado was posted at the end of the corridor, next to the employee entrance. At the other end of the corridor stood two more men; I knew they were Solomon's guys, but I didn't know them personally. The way I saw it, I had two choices: 1) go back the way I came, and wait for a chance to exit unseen via the kitchen, however long that might take; or 2), walk past Delgado and rely on family loyalty. He wasn't family exactly, but I thought he might become so soon. Crossing my fingers, I walked quickly towards him.

He glanced up as I approached and after blinking, narrowed his eyes. Clearly he knew.

"Two babysitting evenings, and one a weekend night," I said without breaking my stride.

"You got it and I didn't see you," he agreed as I kept walking. Just as the doors slid open, he looked over his shoulder and said, "You better not be in trouble."

"Nope. Later!" I waved, as I rounded the edge of the hotel, unchallenged, before exiting through the gates. I power-walked all the way back to my car. Setting my phone's timer to
start
, I drove back to the hospital, parking and checking my time. I made it back in eleven minutes, which was faster than driving from the hospital to the hotel.

"Katya treated her flings like crap. Don was her latest, and he had plenty of time to get to the hotel, go up to Katya's suite, kill her, and return back to the hotel," I said out loud, tapping my pen against my notepad. "But how did the knife get into his hand?" What I needed, I decided, was to speak to the guy personally.

I called Lauren's private number again. "I'm on my way to the set," she said. "What's up?"

"Do you know if all the dancers will be there?"

"Yeah, I think so. Let me check the shooting schedule. Uh, let's see. Yes. We're scheduled to film a scene with all of them. It's supposed to be a club ambience scene where they all break into this cool routine. It's going to..."

I cut in. "Can you get me into the warehouse?"

"Sure, I'll leave your name at the door."

"No, not mine. Solomon will know."

"Whose, then?"

I scrambled for a name, remembering whom I last visited the set with. "Lily Shuler-Graves."

"Kind of complicated for a made-up name."

"It's not made-up. You met Lily."

"Oh. Okay. Whatever. I'll leave that name at the door and say you're my guest."

"Thanks."

"Does this mean you-know-who did it?" she whispered. "Did we discover the right stuff?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"Cool. See you there."

"Hey, Lauren," I called, worried that she'd hang up before I could warn her. "Be careful, okay? I don't want Don to know we're onto him. Don't do anything out of the ordinary. Don't go anywhere alone with him. If he suspects we know as much as we do, we could both be in trouble."

"What exactly do we know?" Lauren asked, sounding intrigued.

"Right now, not enough to tie him to the crime. Without more hard evidence, he could claim he was in the hotel for any reason."

"So get more hard evidence," said Lauren unhelpfully.

"I plan to. See you on set."

Chapter Seventeen

The problem with identifying a murderer is no one ever really looks like one. There were exceptions of course, but as I watched Don lifting a dancer high into the air, tossing her and catching her again, I had to admit he looked like an average guy. An average guy with perfectly defined pecs, bulging biceps, and what looked like an eight pack. I could take a wild guess at what Katya saw in him. But I needed to confirm that Lauren's suspicion was true. Did Don and Katya actually have an affair?

"Cut," yelled the director and the dancers collapsed in a heap - dramatically, of course, with arched limbs and plenty of high-fives.

"Amazing, aren't they?" said the woman next to me. A small group huddled together on the edges of the set to watch the filming. I steadily edged my way closer, figuring I was more likely to be taken for a crew member if I physically aligned myself with them. Despite that I could prove I was Lauren's guest, I preferred not to have to explain myself. As for the few people I already introduced myself to, I just hoped they would keep assuming I still worked for Solomon. When it came to Solomon, I hoped he remained at the hotel so I wouldn't run into him. Once again, I looked around to see who was keeping an eye on Lauren, but I didn't see anyone familiar. I figured Solomon probably replaced me with one of his new guys and that the FBI and MPD had backed off.

"Amazing," I agreed. "Janette, right? From wardrobe?"

"Yeah, that's me," she confirmed, seemingly pleased that I recognized her. She didn't ask who I was so I didn't volunteer. I hoped she simply assumed I belonged in the building with everyone else. "They just keep going. They're like robots."

"What take are we on?"

"Seven. I don't know how they do it. I'm out of breath just watching them."

"That guy's really strong." I pointed to Don. "Did you see how he just threw the girl in the air?"

"Yeah, like she was a rag doll."

"It's great how he can keep going after everything he's been through," I said, waiting for my chatty, new friend to take the bait.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, getting divorced, and everything."

"Oh." She nodded knowingly. "He's really cut up about it."

"I bet he's got a whole bunch of girls waiting for his phone number," I said, tossing out more bait.

"Oh, yeah, the girls went nuts when they found out he was single again. Do you see how many abs he has? That's an eight pack! Who has an eight pack? I'm lucky if I can get a guy with a two pack."

"I bet he's seeing someone already. Guys like that don't wait around long," I told her, making my voice as conspiratorial as I could. After all, we were just two women gossiping as far as Janette was concerned.

"I heard that. And that he was getting it on with someone, but whoever it is, I don't think it's serious." We watched Don sling his arm around his dancing partner, pulling her in close and dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"That her?"

"Cynthia? No. She's been hooking up with Landon for like, two years or something. That's Landon," she said, pointing to a less muscled, but equally handsome guy. He'd probably have looked even better if he weren't glowering in Don's direction. "Cute, isn't he?"

"Totally," I agreed again, and it wasn't even a lie. "I wonder who Don was seeing? Do you think it was another dancer?"

"Nah."

"Oh my God, was it you?" I asked, my eyes widening.

She giggled and swatted my arm. "No, silly. I heard a rumor that he was with..." She looked around then mouthed, "Katya."

"Get out! For real?"

"Yeah, I walked in on them once and she went crazy, saying if I ever mentioned it to anyone, she'd have me fired."

"What a bitch," I murmured, adding every gram of concern I could. "How awful for you."

"Yeah, but I didn't take it personally. She was like that with everyone. She used to threaten to fire everyone at least once a day. I'd say it's hard getting used to being without her, but truthfully, it's not. Everyone is happier."

"Even Don," I added, but I wasn't sure if that were an observation or a question.

"Yeah."

"Hey, when did you see this thing between them? Was it before or after he said he was getting a divorce?"

"I don't know. It was only a week ago so... after that? I don't know. I'm not that close with either of them."

"I bet you hear all kinds of stuff in fittings."

"Yeah, they're not exactly discreet."

Neither are you
, I thought, but didn't say it. "Anyone accidentally confess to the murder in front of you?" I asked, nudging her jokingly.

She swatted my arm again as someone called her name. "Oh, you are so funny! That's me. I bet someone ripped their pants again. I guess I have to sew whomever it is into their seams!"

"Saving the day again?" I faux-laughed, waving as she giggled and hurried away, leaving me some free time to observe Don. Although he didn't look like a murderer, he didn't act like one either. There was no creepy skulking in dark corners, no weapons hanging from his belt, and no blood on his hands in the visible sense. It made my life so much harder that he looked so damn normal. Happy, even. Lauren was right. Don didn't seem upset at all.

I turned, watching Don move into position on the next set as the director barked orders, flinching when I saw Solomon making his way towards me.

No, not towards me; towards the band's security chief, I realized, as he raised his chin in greeting. While he approached Josh, I stepped backwards, looking for somewhere to hide. Spying a pillar, I swiftly retreated behind it.

"Positions, people!" shouted the director. "Final run-through before we start taping."

I peeked around the pillar, watching Don grabbing the hand of his next dance partner, a lithe redhead with impossibly toned calves. She jumped up gracefully, colliding with him, her hand rushing to her mouth as she bit her lip in the most insincerely coy manner I'd seen since Lily realized my brother actually had the hots for her. Instead of stepping away, or setting her straight, Don stroked a hand down her arm until it came to a rest on her hip. She batted her eyelashes and he said something that made her gasp. She stepped out of his grip, circling around him, her hand trailing across his taut stomach as he turned to follow her.

Something told me they weren't just dance partners. For a man with a divorce going ahead, and a dead fling, he sure moved on fast.

My phone rang, startling me as I pulled my head back behind the pillar.
Solomon.

I made a noise that sounded somewhere between "meep!" and "argh!" when my ring tone sounded in the near vicinity. Instead of canceling the call, I hit
answer,
cursing myself as I lifted the phone to my ear.

"Yeah?" I said, hoping I sounded more sullen than petrified. What if he'd seen me? Or heard my phone?

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Out," I squeaked.

"Did you remember I'm picking you up at seven?" he asked, not sounding at all worried or heartbroken.

"Seven? What for?"

"Dinner at your parents."

I pulled a face at the phone. "Oh. Is that it?"

There was a moment of silence, then, "Why did you think I was calling?"

"I don't know," I said, pretty sure I definitely sounded sullen now.

"So, seven?"

"Sure."

"Where are you?"

"Just... out."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"You're out doing nothing?"

"Yes."

A longer silence this time. "Did you really quit? For real?"

"Yes." I wanted to add more. I wanted to explain how hard this case was because of our hellish clientele, and the awful twist it took, not to mention the leaks. Sure, they were partly my fault, but it wasn't intentional. I wanted him to get that without me having to explain it.

"Huh."

"Yeah," I said to cover the sound of someone yelling a name, right behind me.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" My heart thumping, I wondered.

"Nothing. Must be an echo on the line."

"Where are you? It sounds loud."

"Working the case."

"Do you have a lead?"

"I can't talk about the case."

My turn for silence. Finally, when I was wondering if Solomon hung up — and I didn't dare peek around the pillar to find out — he said again, "So, seven?"

"Seven."

"What did you bake?"

"Oh shoot!" I yelled. Despite reminders, I totally forgot. Now I would have to factor in a visit to the market or bakery to buy something I could pretend was home-made.

"Where are you again?" he asked, "You sound really close."

"I just got home," I lied. "Okay, gotta go. See you at seven."

"Okay, are you resting up?"

"Uh, yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing."

"Maybe have a snack or something if you're extra hungry. Then take a nap."

I frowned. "Great idea! I think I'll do that and have a nap."

"Do you need extra vitamins?"

"Uh..."

"I'll get you extra vitamins. You can't have enough. Your health is important. Bye." He hung up and I glared at the phone, wondering what that little bit of weirdness was about. How could he be so concerned about my health when he thought I was jobless? Was it because I no longer had a health plan? The thought of that made me want to tap my phone against my forehead in annoyance. A good health plan was hard to find. On the plus side, since I was now freelance, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about getting shot, stabbed, or injured anymore?

Checking my watch, I did a double take. How had it gotten to be six-ten without me noticing? Solomon thought I was home, taking a nap before he picked me up. Meanwhile, I had barely fifty minutes in which to catch Don doing something suspect, buy some kind of baked goods, drive home, and get changed into something Mom-approved. I groaned, wondering how I could manage it.

With my phone in my hand, I sneaked a look around the pillar. First, I looked for Solomon. I found him just as he and the guy he was speaking to began to walk to the far side of the warehouse, their backs turned to me. Second, I looked for Don. Apparently, while we were on the phone, the dancers completed their rehearsal and he had his arm slung around the redhead. I held up my phone and snapped a photo of them. Tucking it into my pocket, I pulled up the collar of my jacket, pushed my chin down and jogged to the exit. I hated to leave Lauren, but I figured with her under constant watch anytime she left the hotel, she would be safe enough.

My VW was hidden behind a large truck, blocking it from view of Solomon's SUV, but I wasted no time in pulling out of the lot and aiming for home. Twenty minutes of light traffic, one tray of cookies, and no driving violations later, I pulled into my driveway. I ran into the house, checking my watch every few minutes as I made my way around, shucking clothes so I could shower. I put on a blue maxi dress with minutes to spare. Just as I heard Solomon's SUV park out front, I pulled my hair out of its band, ran my fingers through it, and added a last slick of lip gloss. Making my way downstairs, I stepped into the entryway as Solomon entered via the front door. He stopped dead, his eyes running over me and I felt that familiar tingle through my veins. Yeah, I was mad at him, but I loved him too. Not only that, but I lusted after him like crazy, which only exacerbated my annoyance even more.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, not taking a step further.

"Yes." What I should have said was 'let's talk' or 'can I have my job back?" but nothing came out. All I could do was look at him and feel utterly confused. He wasn't my boss; but he seemed to still be my boyfriend. I wanted to be mad at him; and I wanted to have a relaxing evening with my family during which I wouldn't have to think about our crazy case. I wanted to tell him I thought I had a huge breakthrough, and that I knew who Katya's killer was, but I couldn't prove it beyond probable doubt, except I wanted to win something more. I wanted to solve this case alone, prove I was a good investigator, so instead of all the things I could have said, I said nothing.

We rode to my parents silently, the tray of cookies in my lap. When he pulled in front of the house, he shut off the engine but didn't open the door.

"Are we okay?" he asked simply.

I shrugged, looking out of the window.

"Lexi?" He reached for my hand. "Lexi, I know you're mad at me. I don't know if it's the case, or your hormones, but I want to talk."

"We can't talk."
Hormones?
I wondered.

"Sure, we can. We can talk anytime."

"No, I mean, my mom's peeking out from behind the curtains."

"Oh. We should talk though, before we go in."

"I haven't told them."

"About..."

"Work."