Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) (6 page)

"Did you go inside and ask about DataSync?"

"Yep. They hadn't heard of 'em."

I wasn't surprised. "Thanks. Take it easy, okay? Maybe ease up on the weed." I hung up as he promised to show me what I'd been missing if I came back to L.A.

I checked my emails but the only one of interest was from my mother with a selfie of herself and a gray-haired man grinning back at me.
This is Peter
, the email read.
He's taking me out tonight. I'll call you tomorrow.

That was it. Nothing more about the mysterious Peter like "He's not an axe murderer," or "I won't sleep with him."

Christ, my mother was becoming more and more like the me of ten years ago. Ever since Dad died last year, she'd started acting strange. The house, once neat and prim, was now painted a bright yellow and had the latest gadgets strewn across the benches, floor, and furniture. Now she'd started dating.

Oh God, what if she met Peter on the internet in a second-rate chat room filled with men seeking women to join them in threesomes? She did spend a lot of time online. She even put my usage to shame back in the days I was office manager. Not to mention she had an adventurous streak a mile long which Dad had somehow managed to suppress for thirty years. Speaking of Dad—what would he think?

I shuddered.
Don't go there, Cat
.

Will leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, looking edible with his jagged hair partially obscuring his dark, penetrating gaze. Going by the vibes sizzling off him, I guessed he wasn't in the mood for flirtatious play.

"Slim's employee done anything naughty today?" I asked, trying to divert the subject away from the inevitable third degree.

"Spoke dirty to his girlfriend, but that's about it."

I screwed up my nose at the mental image. I switched off the computer and stood. He moved to block the exit.
Here it comes. Damn.

"I have to go home and get ready," I said, circling my arms around his waist. "I'll come by your place after dinner." I stood on my toes and kissed his throat. "So wait up for me." I made my way down to the small dip below his Adam's apple. He groaned. His body relaxed.

That's when I made my move and tried to slip past. But he wasn't relaxed enough, and he caught me, gently trapping me against his body. I stayed there, enjoying the feel of him, hard and hot, through my clothes. If he had to give me a lecture, I guess I could put up with it.

"Not so fast, Cat. Not until you tell me what you're up to tonight with this Frank character. I don't want you doing anything crazy without backup."

I sighed. I might be an investigator, but he still didn't want to let me loose on my own without wiring me up first and fully prepping me on the nearest exits. Too bad, because the outfit I planned on wearing wouldn't hide a wire, and there was no time to investigate the restaurant's layout.

"I'm just going to talk to him. You know, play the dumb female and get some financial advice from a big, clever man." I kissed his frown until I felt it vanish.

"Hmmm," was all he said as he stood aside to let me pass.

"Don't worry, I'm always careful."

That earned me another frown.

I left the office and headed to my car, parked down the street. Gina was just shutting up her florist shop next door and hailed me.

"You got plans tonight?" she asked as she dropped her keys into her fake Gucci bag.

"I have a case to work on."

She pouted. "Poor you. Is Will working you too hard again?"

Gina always looked out for me. She'd been my best friend since elementary school when she was the half-Italian, half-African American outcast in a middle class suburb. We'd grown up together dancing to Britney Spears, dressing in our mothers' clothes, and giggling over boys. Actually, we still did all those things, except our mothers' clothes had been replaced by our own designer knock-offs.

"Don't feel too bad for me," I said. "I'm heading off to dinner at The Carelton."

"Nice," she said with a nod of approval. "I hope your client is paying."

"Actually, the suspect is. You got a date?"

"Maybe." Without elaborating, she air-kissed my cheek then rushed off.

I watched her tuck her curvaceous figure into her car and speed away. Gina was both the luckiest and unluckiest person when it came to love. Being gorgeous, curvy, and fun meant that men begged to go out with her. But for some reason, she always broke the relationship off before it got too serious. That meant she had more exes than her address book could hold.

At home, I showered and dressed in a strappy little pink dress and matching high heels, then headed to The Carelton's restaurant where Play Group and Frank were already seated. From a distance, they looked like they were involved in an important discussion, and I wondered if I should hang back until they'd finished. Curiosity got the better of me though. As I got close, I heard the tension in the voices, even though I couldn't hear their words.

Jenny spotted me first and shot a nervous glance at Angel and Frank. "Hi, Cat," she said.

No one else seemed to notice me. I felt like I'd walked into a soap opera, complete with heaving chests, narrowed eyes, and pinched lips.

"I wish you were dead!" A teary Angel burst out. She thrust back her chair and stormed off to the Ladies room, clutching her purse like it was a murder weapon.

Everyone stared after her. A moment later, Frank turned to me for the first time. "Welcome to our happy little family," he said with a sneer.

CHAPTER 4

Jenny introduced me to the two men of Play Group. They were both striking in different ways, and both turned on megawatt smiles for me, despite Angel's dramatic exit.

"Jenny's told us so much about you," said Taylor. Tall and dark, he had a voice like a radio announcer and the looks of an MTV presenter. He wore a black T-shirt, black jeans, and black nail polish. His short hair was gelled into a spiky mess and he either had very dark lashes or wore mascara. His handshake was kind of pathetic, but his smile seemed genuine.

"Don't believe a word of it," I said with a wink at Jenny.

"Oh, no," said Jenny, eyes wide. "I didn't tell them any of the bad stuff."

Taylor leaned on arms crossed on the table in front of him. "Now
that
sounds interesting. Come on, spill it. Which celebrities did you get naked with?"

I wasn't sure if he was asking me or Jenny, but it didn't matter because neither of us got a chance to answer.

"For fuck's sake, Taylor," muttered Frank into his glass of wine, "does everything have to revolve around sex and gossip?"

Taylor's lip curled into a snarl. He looked like he was going to bite Frank's head off with a well-aimed barb, but instead he snatched up a menu and pretended to study it. The air around the table became thicker, crackling like a stormy night. I shifted uncomfortably, not sure if I wanted the storm to break overhead to clear the air or drift somewhere else. The voyeur in me shouted "Do it!" but the ostrich wanted to hide in the bathroom until it was all over.

"What a terrible impression we must be making on you," said Corey, the other member of Play Group. Blond and fine-boned, he looked like a male version of Angel. His smile, although wide and white, was faker than Jenny's breasts. "We're not usually this bad tempered. It's been a long tour and everyone's strung out."

Jenny nodded. Taylor and Frank didn't look up from their menus.

When Angel returned, there wasn't a single tearstain marring her impeccable makeup. She was all smiles again, as if nothing had happened. "It's so good to see you again, Cat. We have to go shopping again another time. There's a pair of shoes I think I'd like to have in pink after all."

I glanced at Frank in case their earlier argument had been about her spending spree, but he ignored his wife from across the table.

"Speaking of pink, you look gorgeous in that dress, Cat," Angel continued. "I
love
that color on you."

"Stunning," Taylor agreed, lowering his menu, his smile back. "You know, I'm surprised you never did more in Hollywood. With your bone structure and figure, you should be a star."

"Maybe I should have hired you as my agent," I said.

His laughter bubbled out in a deep, rumbling chuckle. "I'll consider the career change when Play Group ends."

"Which won't be anytime soon," Frank said into his menu.

The four members of Play Group exchanged glances while I pretended not to notice the charged atmosphere.

We ordered and ate while only exchanging polite words, mostly between myself and the four group members. Frank sat sullenly in his seat, getting ruddier with every glass of wine.

After the main meal I excused myself and went to the bathroom. On my return, I had a good view of Angel and Corey's backs. What I saw made me stumble in my heels. They were playing footsies under the table.

Hell-o!

I sat back down and engaged Angel in a conversation about L.A. in the hope that I would detect something between her and Corey, but they were seasoned performers and not a sign of their foot play showed.

During dinner, Frank's phone rang and he searched for it in the pocket of his jacket, hanging over the back of his chair. He pulled his hotel room key out, placed it on the table, then fished out his cell. He returned the key as he stood and then walked off, talking loudly on the phone. The mischievous devil that sat on my shoulder got a glint in her eye. The good girl in me didn't stand a chance when that happened.

Before dessert arrived, I made my move. I cornered Jenny in the bathroom and asked her to swap seats with me.

"Why?" she asked, lip gloss poised. "You're not going to ask Frank questions about my money in front of everyone, are you?"

"No. I need some financial advice." I winked at her.

She gave me a blank look then shrugged.

Back at the table, she said she needed to speak to Corey, so I gave her my chair. As I settled into her seat, I turned the charm on for Frank. It wasn't as easy as usual. In between glaring at his wife, who ignored him, he guzzled his wine and food as if he'd just come off the grapefruit diet. He stuffed crepes into his mouth before he'd finished chewing the last spoonful. It was disgusting. He hardly noticed me at all.

"Jenny tells me you're the one to speak to about financial matters," I said.

"What of it?" he said, his mouth full.

"Maybe you can help me. I recently came into some money—"

He put down his spoon and looked at me for the first time. "How much?"

"A few thousand. Do you know any investments I could dabble in?"

"It's not worth my while unless you've got at least ten grand." He returned to his dessert.

I leaned closer and lowered my voice. "Actually, it's twenty."

That earned me his complete attention and a smile. His chest swelled and something passed over his face. He went from asshole to slick salesman in a heartbeat. "Well then, you came to the right man. I have some exciting new opportunities that need backing from someone just like you." He leaned closer, conspiratorial. "Someone willing to see the big picture and the long-term benefits."

"Are they safe?" I flicked my hair, doing the ditzy thing. "I mean, will I lose my money?"

"Safe as houses." He smiled and was almost handsome when he put in the effort. I could see why Angel had fallen for him. He was charming too and could probably sweep a girl off her feet if he said the right things in just the right way. "Don't worry, I wouldn't let a friend of Jenny's invest in anything that would lose money. She's a great girl and I get the feeling you're just like her."

I bet he did. Let's be honest—Jenny thought the stock market was just another shopping mall. Something Frank was probably counting on with me too.

"What are the investments in?" I asked, dialing up the girly tone in my voice. "I mean, have I heard of them? I don't want to give my money to anyone who kills baby seals or anything."

"I wouldn't recommend anything like that to you. I find those sorts of companies abhorrent, don't you?"

I nodded and simpered and when he turned away, I slipped the hotel key I'd retrieved from his pocket into my handbag.

***

I left the restaurant before coffee arrived, claiming I needed to meet up with my boyfriend. It wasn't a lie. Will would be pacing around his lounge room about now, imagining all the nasty situations I could have gotten myself into. It's doubtful that he would have guessed I was sneaking into my target's hotel room. Suite 1201 wasn't the penthouse, but it was definitely huge with two bedrooms, a bathroom the size of my entire apartment, and a supersized TV. Both bedrooms were being used. Angel's things were spread out over the bed in one room, and Frank's suits hung neatly in the wardrobe of the other.

I started my search there, checking through his pockets, the desk drawer, and the nightstand. When I found his suitcase tucked under the bed, I expected it to be empty, but what I found made my heart pump harder. An iPad which I couldn't access without a password, a notepad with illegible messages scrawled across the first two pages, and a stack of bank statements belonging to a company called Karvea Holdings. There was also a letter from Guest and Lieberman, a law firm based in L.A. I was about to read it when I spotted something more interesting at the bottom of the case.

Photos. Three of them to be precise, and all showing two men in what the courts would describe as a lewd act. In all the shots, one man's face was clear: Taylor.

So he was gay. No big deal. I'd guessed as much from his voice and clothes. No straight guy I knew dressed that snappy. It wasn't the nudity or the fact it was two men that intrigued me, it was that Frank had found them interesting enough to have them in the first place. Why?

I didn't get a chance to think about it. The sounds of voices outside the suite sent my pulse racing, and my mind switched focus.

"Where's my damned key?" came Frank's voice.

Crap! I returned the photos and papers and scrambled to the bathroom, partially closing the door but leaving enough of a gap to see through. Frank and Angel entered—she must have had a key—and neither looked like they'd be happy to find a virtual stranger hiding in their bathroom. Somehow I didn't think a lie would get me out of this one, so I stayed hidden.