by G. K. Parks
“No, you didn’t.”
“Do you think Cross knew about Eve’s connection to Priapus when he assigned you to this case?”
“Maybe.” I bit my lip, but I could never figure out what Cross was thinking. “My head hurts enough already without me thinking that Cross would actually do something to help the police instead of hinder them. He gave me this assignment to keep me away from you. To keep me too busy to do anything else. When I told him Eve had the app on her phone, he seemed genuinely shocked.”
“Lucien Cross shocked? I’d have to see it to believe it.”
“More annoyed than shocked, but shocked nonetheless.” But now I wasn’t so sure. My conversation with Cross replayed in my head. Blackmail, background checks, fear of being exposed, Landau could have come to Cross Security for any of those reasons or a million other ones. Cross claimed not to know Landau’s reason for making an appointment, but that could be a lie. Still, I couldn’t fathom how Cross would have known Eve Wyndham was also a member of Priapus when Cross Security had no history of her or Andre prior to that morning, unless Eve and Landau had a prior connection.
“Do you know why he gave us Ritch Summers?” O’Connell asked.
“He said it was to protect other Cross Security clients from a killer. He said if anyone were to know how Priapus operates, it’d be Ritch.”
“Do you believe that?” O’Connell asked.
“At this point, I don’t know what to believe.”
We watched Eve for another twenty minutes before O’Connell grew bored. “Is this what you’ve been doing all week?”
“Basically.”
“And you haven’t gone stir crazy yet?”
“When I tail her to the gym, it’s more interactive. At least I get to work on rebuilding leg strength while working. Although, I think I overdid it last night with all that standing around in the club.”
“Spark?”
“No, Olympus. Colton Raine’s launch party will be held at Spark tomorrow night. Colton even invited Cross, but Eve met friends at Olympus after leaving Spark.”
“Is Cross going to the party?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you?” O’Connell asked.
“I have to, especially now that I know Eve might jet off to have group sex at any moment. I just don’t know how I’m going to get in, unless Cross invites me to be his plus one. But since it’s a private event, I don’t know if he’s permitted a plus one.”
“I doubt a giant blowout like the bash Eve is planning would deny guests from bringing a date.”
“Who knows? Spark is a strange place. Lots of security. Lots of private areas and back rooms. I have no idea what goes on in there, but it’s all very top secret.”
“I’ve heard that about the club and the owner.” We sat in silence, watching Eve bark orders while she grabbed one of the oversized portfolios and put the call on speaker. She was tired, irritable, and coming up on a hard deadline. O’Connell examined his hand for a moment before taking off his wedding ring. He put it in his pocket and turned to me. “The only way to know what Eve’s doing and what she knows about Priapus is to find a way to get you invited to that party. Since you’ve built up this bride-to-be persona, let’s milk it for all it’s worth.” He grinned. “Alex, will you marry me?”
Thirty-one
Eve didn’t even glance up as we entered, but Samantha did. She passed whatever she was doing off to the woman standing beside her and came to meet us at the door. “Alex, is this him?”
“Nick.” O’Connell stuck out his hand, and they shook.
She smiled brightly. “Hi, I’m Samantha Benson. Welcome to Elegant Events.” She glanced back at the chaos going on just a few feet away. “As you can see, we’re in hardcore event planner mode. If you want to peruse the books, I can set you up in the corner. But today’s really not a good day. Would you like to make an appointment instead?”
“Actually, I ran into Eve last night,” I said. “When I got home, Nick and I had a long talk and decided it must be kismet. We don’t want to cause any trouble. We’ll just make an appointment and go.”
“Now, sweetheart,” O’Connell said, doing his best impression of Martin, “let’s not be too hasty.” He turned to face Samantha. “We’d love to make an appointment to discuss our wedding with Ms. Wyndham at her earliest convenience, but we still haven’t nailed down a theme or venue idea.”
“Theme?” I asked.
“See what I mean?” he said to Samantha. “I think looking through the books might help us come to a decision. We don’t want to waste Ms. Wyndham’s time or our first appointment by arguing.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” Samantha said. “Let me check our schedule.” She led us to a computer on the counter while Eve spoke to the caterers for Colton’s party. “Eve has an opening two weeks from now. Wednesday at ten. Is that okay?”
“I’m not sure.” O’Connell pulled out his phone and pretended to consult his calendar. “I’ll have to move my morning meeting to after lunch and reschedule that conference call, but it should be feasible.”
“That’s fine,” I said to Samantha while digging my nails into O’Connell’s forearm. He was taking this act a little too seriously.
“Great.” She asked for our names, so I gave her the names O’Connell and I decided on while in the car, Alexandra Peters and Nick James. Since I’d written James on the forms at the florist, it seemed the safest option. She reached beneath the desk and pulled out one of the oversized portfolios. “Here are photos from weddings we’ve planned, along with themes.” She looked up at O’Connell when she said that. “Go get comfortable, and take your time. Make sure you note whatever might be of interest.”
“Will do.” I glanced at Eve who was now desperately trying to find a crew to help with setup on such short notice.
O’Connell took the book, and we went to the far corner of the room, near the front door where a table and chairs had been set up. We flipped the pages, and O’Connell pointed and pretended to make notes while we listened to Eve and her assistants frantically throw the party together.
“Do you think they usually let people do this?” I whispered.
“No, but they think we’re whales. That’s why they’re bending the rules. Plus, Eve knows you. She spent last night drinking with you and airing her dirty secrets.”
“Samantha doesn’t know that.”
“No, but she might have surmised. She probably knows her boss pretty damn well by now.”
That’s something I hadn’t considered. I should have thought to go to Eve’s friends sooner. One of them might have been able to shed some light on her extracurricular activities, except Cross told me Eve’s friends were rich and famous. And Andre hadn’t done anything to dispel that notion. In fact, that’s probably where Cross had gotten the idea. The women I met at Olympus last night weren’t Eve’s close friends. They were just going through the same pre-wedding turmoil and taking the same fitness classes as part of the wedding frenzy. They’d bonded over that, but aside from talking about all the things they should do before getting married and the tiny details that went into the wedding, they hadn’t mentioned anything on a deeper personal level.
Replaying the conversation I overheard in the flower shop, I wondered if Eve even had bridesmaids or a maid of honor. She hadn’t made any mention about any of that. Just her dress and Andre’s tux.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” O’Connell asked.
“What about the wedding party?”
He cocked a confused eyebrow at me. “What about it?”
“They would need flowers and dresses and dinner.”
“That’s how weddings work. Don’t forget about the rehearsal. That requires more flowers and dresses and dinner.”
I could be wrong, but Eve didn’t seem concerned about any of that. She hadn’t even mentioned it. Something wasn’t right. I sent a text to Cross asking if he knew anything about Eve and Andre’s wedding plans, who was officiating, or
the names of the members of the wedding party. Obviously, Andre would want to include his college friends who were now his business partners, so there would be more prep. Did Eve hire someone to handle these things and just not tell anyone for fear it would harm her reputation? Last night, she said it was going to be a small private ceremony. I imagined it’d be something like the commitment ceremony Martin and I had, except that wasn’t a wedding and no one had been there except us and Marcal, who’d taken far too many candid photos which Martin had framed.
My phone buzzed, but as I suspected, Cross didn’t have any of those details. I thought about the photos in Eve’s apartment. Aside from a few shots of her with Andre or the group shot from work, there had been nothing else to find. I turned my chair a little so I could watch Eve work. The woman didn’t have any friends. She had coworkers and clients. Her job was her life. The women in this room probably knew Eve better than anyone else, except for maybe family.
“Alex, what’s wrong?” O’Connell asked.
I sent another text to Cross. “Nothing. I was just thinking my mother’s going to want to have some say on the wedding.”
“Yeah, that happens.” O’Connell and his wife had been married for ten years, but Jen was still telling horror stories about her mom and her mother-in-law arguing over the seating arrangement and Jen’s wedding dress.
The backgrounds on Eve and Andre had shown living relatives. They each had a mother and father, and Andre had two brothers. That didn’t include grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins. I stared at the photo in front of me of a hotel ballroom decked out in white and rose gold with an ice sculpture of two swans, their necks forming a heart, which when paired with the expensive linens, exquisite place settings, and a beautiful layout didn’t seem cheesy at all, and I couldn’t help but think Andre and Eve had no plans to get married.
“Alex?” Eve’s voice disrupted my blasphemous thoughts.
I turned in the chair. “Hi.”
She tapped one of the assistants on the shoulder and pointed to the speakerphone which had been playing hold music for the last three minutes. “Handle that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the assistant said.
Eve came toward us, brushing a stray hair out of her face. “What are you doing here?”
“This is Nick.” I wrapped both of my arms around one of his. “I’ve been meaning to make an appointment ever since I ran into Samantha at the smoothie bar a few weeks ago, but we haven’t been able to agree on any details. I didn’t realize this was your place. After all those pilates sessions, you’d think I would have put it together.” I laughed. “I’m so dense sometimes.”
“Aren’t we all?” Eve asked.
“Needless to say, after I ran into you and the other girls at Olympus, I realized just how behind we are on this whole wedding thing. Nick said we had to do something or we’d end up having a long engagement with no ceremony in sight.”
“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who was freaking out when you got home last night.” O’Connell turned to Eve. “You probably see this a lot.”
“See it?” Eve laughed. “I live it.”
“I’m telling you, Alex, it’s fate.” He ran his thumb against my cheek, and I fought to keep from glaring at him. The detective was having a little too much fun with his impersonation.
“We booked an appointment.” I pointed to the computer. “Samantha said you’d have time to meet with us in a couple of weeks, but we thought it’d be best to have some idea what we might want before the time comes.”
“Excellent idea.” Eve pulled out one of the chairs and sat beside me. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’m in the midst of making everything perfect for this spur of the moment event. Things aren’t usually this crazy.” She looked down at the book. “What were you considering?”
Before O’Connell could say anything, I spouted out a similar set of details to what Colton Raine had given Eve, including the size of the guest list and the features he wanted for his party. Eve flipped through the book and found a few photos from different indoor venues.
“It’s so hard to decide from pictures,” I said. “I can never tell how things are going to look unless I see them in person.”
“That’s because you have wonky depth perception,” O’Connell said.
“I do not.”
“You do too.” He took my hand in his. “Don’t you remember the first time we went ice skating?”
“I’m telling you that wasn’t my fault. The sun was really bright that day. The reflection off the ice was bothering me.” I didn’t know what to say, but O’Connell and I had spent enough time together to make it up as we went.
Eve bought it and laughed. “You should check out some of the events I’m hosting over the next couple of weeks. It’ll give you an idea of how it all works. The things I do for celebrities and any private affairs are off limits, of course. But there are some receptions and parties you could swing by and check out.”
“No, I totally understand,” I said. “We don’t want to intrude on someone’s special day.”
She chewed on her lip for a moment. “Colton Raine’s having a launch party tomorrow. It’s invitation only, but the media will be swarming all over the place. He wants the publicity. I don’t think he’d mind having two more guests show up.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“We don’t want to be an imposition or get you in any trouble,” O’Connell said.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll make sure you’re added to the guest list.” Eve reached for a notepad. “So you’re thinking a guest list of three hundred?”
“Give or take,” I said. “He wants three hundred. I was thinking something smaller and quieter.” I cocked my head to the side. “You’re getting married soon. How many people are going to your wedding?”
“Not many. We’re just having a small gathering.”
“How big’s your bridal party?” I asked, hoping that seemed like something Steff or one of the other bridezillas would want to know.
“I’m not sure.”
“Aren’t you getting married next month?” I asked.
“That’s the plan.” Eve flipped through the portfolio, scribbling notes in shorthand. Before I could say anything else, the annoying hold music stopped. “I have to get back to work. Feel free to peruse the books as long as you like.” She wrote down the info for the party and tore it off the bottom of her notepad. “Don’t forget to check out the party tomorrow night. It’s at ten. I hope you can make it.”
“We’ll be there,” O’Connell said.
Thirty-two
“Did you notice the photos in her book?” O’Connell asked.
“Lots of extravagant décor.”
“Not that.” He circled the block. “The venues.”
“Mostly hotel ballrooms.”
“Two of them I recognized from the poisonings.” He slid into a parking space at the other end of the street.
“Makes sense, I guess. Eve Wyndham organizes events for the rich and famous. The members of the underground sex club are equally rich and possibly just as famous. There are only so many places that would live up to their standards.”
“I didn’t realize group sex required two thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.” O’Connell rested an elbow on the door while he drummed the fingers of his other hand against the steering wheel. “Those parties had an awful lot of flowers.”
“Anything poisonous?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, but I’m no horticulturist. I can’t identify toxic plants from photos.” O’Connell stared at the Elegant Events sign. “You said Eve Wyndham was out of the country when Victor Landau was killed.”
“As far as I know. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“You’re thinking the parties Eve throws and the murders are connected.”
O’Connell glanced at me. “Is that what you’re thinking?”
“I don’t know. Eve’s around the types of people
who would belong to Priapus. They’d make ideal clients, and what better way to celebrate a special event than with an even more exclusive private after party.”
“That’s kind of what I was thinking.”
“Eve might know the killer.”
“I need to check dates and find out what types of events the hotels had going on when the killings occurred.”
“Start with Landau’s.” I thought about everything we knew about the four murders. “Cross said Priapus is in favor of anonymous sex. He suspects the participants might wear masks or disguises to conceal their identities from one another.”
“You saw the security cam footage from outside Landau’s hotel room. Motorcycle helmet, cowboy hat, sunglasses, and scarves.”
“Yes, but they might have had other disguises. Latex or lace masks. Body paint. Something they put on once they stepped foot in the suite to make themselves unrecognizable to the rest of the participants.”
“What are you talking about, Parker? You saw Victor Landau, he was recognizable.”
“He’s also dead. The victims might have tried to blackmail other members of Priapus.”
“That seems unlikely. Is that what Cross said?”
“Not in so many words.” I stared out the window, wondering if Eve’s life could be in danger too. “I’m just thinking that might explain why Ritch Summers couldn’t give us better descriptions of his fellow fornicators.”
“Body paint is out. We would have found transfer at the scene, like the lipstick on Landau’s body.”
“They could have worn masks instead.”
“Sure, or they kept on their sunglasses and scarves. Or hey, a paper bag with a few strategic holes cut out would work too.” He studied my expression. “Does it matter?”
“It might.” I thought about the lace masquerade-esque masks I’d found in Eve’s drawer. If she participated in these events, that might have been what she wore to conceal her identity, especially if the people she planned to have group sex with turned out to be her clients.
