by Desiree Holt
“I’ll take care of the client, but I want that shoot canceled ASAP and everyone back in the States.”
“That could be complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it. Apologize to our host and offer everyone double their fee. That should soothe a lot of people. But bring them back.” She paused to take a sip of her coffee. “Now, how about filling me in on the details? I’ve been trying to put some kind of outline together. They vary in length from two days to six. And we seem to be doing a large number of them offshore.”
Jerry shrugged. “It depends what the client wants. If we’re doing a one-page layout, that takes less time. A magazine article more. A series of ads, even longer. I usually went on the longer shoots with him.”
“I’m curious.” Lindsey kept her tone as even as possible. There might be nothing wrong here except Craig taking every opportunity for expenses-paid Caribbean vacations. And Jerry, of course. How had she not kept track of this before?
Because it wasn’t my business. Not on my list of responsibilities and I had other things to handle.
“About?”
“We live in pretty much a tropical paradise here. Surely there’s someplace on the mainland where these things could take place?”
An expression flashed across his face that looked like a mixture of anger and distress, or it could have been her imagination. Lindsey kept her own expression bland but interested.
“The clients liked the secluded environment of Parrot Cay and the flavor of the Caribbean. It was completely surrounded by water with only the one estate on the entire small island. Craig said it worked because there were no distractions, and the models could relax in privacy when they weren’t working.”
“Partying,” she guessed.
“Not at all.” He shrugged. “They worked hard in the hot sun then relaxed at the pool with drinks and food.”
Lindsey looked at her computer screen. “But some of the trips that only took two days—surely they could have been handled locally?”
“Craig was all about giving clients what they want, and they wanted to be portrayed as international businesses. Things always went off without a problem, I can tell you that.”
She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “Look. It’s less than forty-eight hours after Craig’s death. As I said earlier, Taylor has handed the reins for Elite over to me. I feel a responsibility to reassess the offshore events and look for alternatives in South Florida. I’m not saying do away with them altogether, but I’m putting them on hold for the moment. Meanwhile, get the people back who just arrived there before they start setting up.”
“Fine.” He pushed himself out of the chair. “But a lot of people are going to be pissed off.”
“I’ll deal with it.”
As he strode from her office, something about his attitude rubbed her the wrong way. The more he reacted the way he did, the more certain she was there was something weird about the whole thing. She needed to sit down with John and ask him to track every bit of money involved in them on both sides of the ledger. Her pulse accelerated a tiny bit at the thought and she reminded herself she was professional. A businesswoman. She needed to get those damn four days out of her mind and pretend they never happened.
Right.
She shut down her computer, locked it to make sure no one could get into it and headed for the spare office where Taylor was working. She stopped at the doorway, noting that the woman was studying something on her computer screen.
“Is this a good time?
Taylor looked up, pushed her reading glasses up on her head and smiled. “Why do I think this is not a coffee break?”
“Maybe with a shot of something in it. I need to run something by you.” She gave Taylor a short overview of her suspicions regarding Jerry, including canceling the current shoot before it could start. “Something there tickles my radar, but I can’t say exactly what. I just feel something’s wrong, especially the way he objected to it. As if it would be an insurmountable problem.”
Taylor nodded. “Go with your gut. If we have some unhappy people because of the current one being canceled, I’ll be your backstop. Could be.” She sighed. “I have this feeling, like you, there’s something we’re not seeing here. I hope we’re wrong, but if something else was going on and Craig went to all the obvious trouble to mask it, it might be more than just padding expense accounts or getting freebies from people. Of course, since I took over Arroyo, you’d be amazed at all the ways I’ve discovered people figure out to screw the world.”
Lindsey sighed. “Yeah, it gets depressing. Okay, then. I’ll make sure everyone is up to date on their assignments, but I’m putting anything more in-depth on hold until we go over all of Craig’s records with a microscope.”
“Good. And, Lindsey? Let John know about this. He can trace the expenditures and match them to income from clients. His priority is Craig’s accounts and any others connected to him. He’ll need to get as much input from you as he can, on this and other accounts. It will help him know where to focus.”
She’d known this was going to happen. No way would he be able to do a proper forensic audit without having as many pieces of the puzzle as possible. And who else would be in a position to give them to him, right? She’d just shoved it to the back of her mind and hoped.
She spent the afternoon analyzing the offshore trips, checking the contracts with the clients and doing some price comparisons with locations she found in South Florida that had the same ambience. She wanted to see if the Cantrells had contacts they would be willing to utilize for this. But that could wait until things settled down. With everything in an uproar, trips to tropical islands were the last thing to deal with.
She also went over the master list Leda had put together for her, checking how the other agents were handling their clients and what their needs were. Not all of them required photo layouts. For many of them Elite’s graphics people created what was needed. Marketing a person or product could be much more complicated than many people realized.
“I know you had lunch because we ate together, but have you thought about dinner?”
She looked up to see John lounging in her doorway. And damn it. She got that funny little feeling in her misbehaving pussy again, along with the tiny snap and sizzle that danced unwanted through her body. She wondered if there was a rehab and cure for this, like alcoholism or drug addiction.
“Is it that late already?” She glanced at her watch. “Wow. Time sure flies when you’re having all this fun.”
He grinned at her and her stomach did tiny flip-flops. Maybe she could lock herself in the closet until they passed.
“Noah’s huddled in with Taylor, going over some things he took care of this afternoon. Then they want a minute with us. He’s got information on the autopsy and the plans for the funeral. After that, I believe they have a dinner meeting.”
She leaned back and ran her hands through her hair. “Let’s do it.”
They congregated in Craig’s office, where John had been working.
“I think everyone’s pretty coffee’d out,” Noah began, “so I’ll just get right to it. I met with Natalia Wainwright this morning. I know she realizes she can’t disconnect Elite from what’s going on, so she’s doing the proper thing. Funeral’s in three days. She gave me the name and address of the funeral home, which I’ll text to make sure we all have it.”
“I’ll have Leda memo it to everyone on staff, too,” Lindsey told him.
Taylor looked at everyone. “Lindsey, I think we should plan to go together. Noah and I have some other business to handle while we’re in the area. I’m trying to put it off for a couple of days but if not, why don’t we all just meet here?”
“That works,” Lindsey said at the same time as John nodded.
“About the autopsy. This isn’t usual procedure, but I convinced the police to email me the results.” Noah took out his cell phone and tapped the screen, bringing up an email.
“You must have d
one some heavy convincing, because those aren’t public knowledge.”
“Helps to have friends in high places. The actual cause of death was injuries caused by the crash. His neck was broken on impact.”
“God.” Lindsey blew out a breath. “How awful. Do they know what caused the accident?”
“They’re pretty sure it was a heavy dose of an erectile dysfunction drug. There was a huge amount in his system. Something else.” Noah tapped the screen again. “It seems Craig was taking prescription medicine for severe tension headaches. The police found the prescription bottle in his pocket. The directions said he was supposed to take them twice a day, and more if the pain was severe. But there was no trace of them in his system.”
Lindsey stared, mouth open. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wish. They think it’s possible someone substituted the dysfunction meds for the pain meds. It caused an attack of some kind that made him lose control of the car and crash.”
Taylor frowned. “What did his wife have to say? I know she loved Craig and she was very nice to everyone here, but, I don’t know, there was something…?”
“I got the same impression. However, she’s either very stunned or doing a great acting job. She’d already received the information by the time I got there, so I asked her how long he’d been taking the pain meds.”
“And?”
“Again she was either shocked or doing another great acting job. Said she didn’t even know about his headaches. That he’d never told her about them. Then she burst into tears.”
Lindsey heaved a sigh. “It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s acting with her. Do you think maybe he went off the meds to take the other pills for whatever reason? What did she have to say about that?”
Noah’s face was always set in an implacable expression so it was hard for Lindsey to tell if he was reporting information or commenting on his impression. “She wondered if he started taking them as a surprise for her, and shed a few more tears.”
“You think she was faking it?” Taylor asked.
He shrugged. “Like we both said, with her, it’s hard to tell. I think she’s one of these people who’s so busy making sure she’s doing and saying the right thing that you can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. Lindsey, would you know anything about their marriage? Were they okay as a couple? Were they having any problems in the bedroom?”
“Lord, no.” She blew out a breath. “We never had that kind of relationship, nor would I have wanted it. At all. I can tell you she was always the loving wife when they were together, or whenever she dropped into the office. She liked to tell people what a great investment it had been for her to fund Elite. But she was also quick to tell people it was strictly Craig’s baby. She had no part in the operation.”
“Is that true?”
“As far as I can tell.” Lindsey spread her hands. “But who knows the truth, at this point.”
“Do you think he might have been having an affair?” Noah persisted.
Lindsey thought for a minute, then shook her head. “No. He’d been a little preoccupied lately, but when I asked him about it he said it was nothing. Just juggling demanding clients, which I could certainly understand. And more of those damn trips. The couple of times I mentioned them, he said that’s what the clients paid for.”
“Let’s not write anything off just yet. I’ll bet we know people we could make discreet inquiries to. About that and everything else. Let me jot something down in my Notes section.” Taylor picked up her phone and tapped something on the screen. “We have a lot of contacts here. I’ll figure out the best people to approach.”
“Wouldn’t he have noticed an extreme difference in his, um, anatomy?” Lindsey asked. Then her lips curved in a tiny grin. “Not something we’d know about, right, Noah?”
Lindsay wanted to laugh, watching the stone-faced man fight the smile teasing at his mouth.
“You’d think. The lab says there was so much of the dysfunction meds in his system it’s a wonder he didn’t walk around with a permanent hard-on.” He tapped the screen again. “The real kicker is both pills looked exactly alike.” He looked at the others. “Anyone get the same feeling I did?”
John nodded. “Someone could have switched his pills and he’d never have known the difference. If the dysfunction pills ramped up his blood pressure and heart rate, and that escalated the tension headache because, hello—no pain pills—together that could have caused the accident.”
Taylor turned to him, a questioning look on her face. “But who would have exchanged them? That’s the real question, isn’t it? And when?”
“It’s the question of the day,” Noah agreed. “The prescription says to take one in the morning, the other twelve hours later. If he worked late or at least into the dinner hours, it makes sense he’d carry them with him. Theoretically it could have been anyone, either at home or at the office.”
“I can’t think who at the office would even have an interest in harming him,” Lindsey said in a slow voice. “I have a good feel for what goes on at Elite and if there was anyone here who fit that bill, I promise I’d know it. What has Natalia said about it?”
“Very little.” Noah rubbed his jaw. “I wish I knew if she was really so wrapped up in grief or just doing a good job playing a part.”
Taylor laughed. “Forgive him. He’s suspicious of everyone.”
“And with good reason,” he reminded her.
“Is it possible whoever switched the pills expected a different ending?” Lindsey asked. “Maybe what they hoped for was just to incapacitate him and sideline him for a while.”
“That’s what the medical examiner said.” Noah shoved his phone back into his shirt pocket. “But why? That’s the big question. I spoke to the detective assigned to the case. The police are opening a full investigation. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Lindsey, but they’ll probably be around here more than you’d like. They’ll want to question everyone on the staff.”
She tensed, her first thought being the staff and how they would react.
“Oh, joy. Although I am surprised they weren’t here the next day, talking to people.”
“They had no reason to until the autopsy,” Noah pointed out. “Up until then it was classified as just a single-car accident.”
Lindsey raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m going to ask people to reschedule client appointments or hold them at their offices until this is over. I don’t need people who pay us a lot of money in the midst of a police investigation. That’s a surefire way to kill business.”
“I’m sorry.” Taylor leaned forward in her chair. “Word of his death is going to be bad enough, especially if details of the autopsy get out. I know gossip spreads like the flu in this industry. Well, any industry really. But marketing is like an overgrown family with too many busybodies and too many people willing to do anything for business. Anyway, I’m not going to dump the agency and all of this in your lap and take off. If you’re okay with it, I’m going to set myself up in Craig’s office to handle my business until the worst of this is over. I don’t want to leave you with this whole mess in your hands.”
Lindsey wondered how Taylor would react if she jumped up and hugged her. She was sure she could handle it all, but having the head of Arroyo ride shotgun for this was a real blessing.
“Thank you. I would never ask you to inconvenience yourself like that, but I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I promise you both the staff and our clients will feel a lot better if they know this is important enough to you to do this.”
“Happy to do it. And John will be here for as long as it takes to get his part of the job done.”
Lindsey was afraid to look at him, worried at what he might see on her face. She had to get past this or she’d be in a big mess.
John cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I’m wondering, Lindsey, if you’d mind working a little later tonight to walk me through the basics on some of these projects and c
lients. Having more information helps me interpret the numbers better.”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
As soon as the words were out, she wished them back. She was sure she could have found a different way to phrase her response. John looked at her with both a question and hunger swirling in his eyes. Damn.
Taylor pushed away from her desk and rose, breaking the charged moment.
“We’re having dinner with some people tonight. John, are you good to Uber back to the hotel when you’re finished? Or maybe Lindsey could drop you off? Is it out of your way?”
It’s out of my sphere of self-control, but what can I say?
“It’s no problem at all,” she answered in a smooth voice. She could certainly manage to control herself for a short ride. “I’m happy to. John, I thought I’d order in some sandwiches for us. Does that work for you?”
“Anything is fine.”
“Get whatever you want and charge it to Elite,” Noah told them.
“I really don’t like to do that,” Lindsey began.
“That’s an order.” Taylor winked. “One of the perks of being the big boss.”
The Cantrells left for their appointment, Lindsey ordered a sandwich tray from the deli and fifteen minutes later, one was delivered.
“Let’s take the food into Craig’s office,” Lindsey suggested. “That way we can work and eat at the same time.”
John rested the fingers of one hand on her arm, then ran them gently from her elbow to her wrist, sending tiny shivers through her. “This isn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to dinner, you know.”
“But this is important,” she insisted.
“It is, which is why I’m not arguing. But, Lindsey, I’m not letting you off the hook here. You’re going to listen to what I have to say if I have to tie you to the bed.”
His words sent a rush of heat through her and she had to dig her fingernails into her palms to stay calm. She had such control over every other area of her life. How was it she turned so stupid the minute she saw this man or he touched her? If any other man had walked out of her life without any contact the way he had, she wouldn’t give him more than a frosty hello. She had to find that control where John Martino was concerned. Somehow.
