Kissing in Action

by Camilla Chafer

  What I most wanted to know was: what were the secrets? Only Shelley was forthcoming about hers. Why she was less willing to hide her secret than all the others were, I didn't know, but I suspected when I dug into her background, I would find that her ex-girlfriend wasn't behind the plot. And despite B4U's mutual dislike of one another, it wasn't inconceivable that the band also knew each other’s secrets. I had to wonder if it would be possible to extract those secrets from them, possibly by exploiting their mutual animosity, and using that to aid me.

  "But how do you know their secrets?" I asked the letters. They lay there, blankly unable or unwilling to surrender any clues.

  I grabbed my notepad from my purse and wrote blackmailer? in large letters. First, I added superfan, then stranger, then known to the band. It seemed rather unlikely that the blackmailer would be entirely unconnected to the band. It would have been very hard to learn the secrets of four band members who all grew up in entirely different areas of the country. For a start, B4U's management company was very careful to ensure, nourish, and cultivate, their squeaky clean image. Someone who was close to them would have to be absolutely convinced there was dirt before they went digging. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to imagine someone spending time and effort on one single starlet with the aim of blackmailing a big payday; but four women? No. That took an inordinate amount of time, effort, and access.

  Crossing stranger off the list, I pondered superfan. B4U's target audience was the pre-teen, or “tween,” and early teen crowd. It was almost a given that a child could not have orchestrated the blackmail. It was too careful, and too well planned. It had to be an adult, but what kind of adult would be a superfan of the teen-orientated sensations? Could a superfan find the time and resources to hunt for more dirt? If he or she were that big a fan, why would they want to threaten or hurt their beloved band? I added the word deranged along with a large question mark.

  With the stranger and superfan ideas briefly considered, I had to turn to the people who were closest to B4U. Under known to the band, I added friends, family, management, and crew to my list. None of the band members were related as far as I knew. Although it was a possibility that their individual families might have known their secrets, it was highly unlikely that they knew all of the others’, unless the band somehow mentioned them while gossiping. The same went for their friends, some of whom could have been mutual.

  I ran my finger further down the list, pausing at management. To me, that meant Joe Carter. He was introduced as their manager and no one mentioned any assistant or team. I needed to talk to Joe to learn whom else he worked with, or who might have had any close access to the band. If anyone was hired to work on cleaning up B4U's image, perhaps they might know the secrets they were paid to hide.

  Finally, there was the crew. I watched some footage of B4U's recent concerts on TV, as well as a few other photos in magazines, but I didn't recall seeing any familiar faces in the background. That didn't mean there weren't any. The footage was leaked via cell phone cameras, and consequently, of inferior quality. From what I gleaned after watching the E! network, the band most likely had a team of dancers, personal assistants, stylists, hair and makeup artists, and musicians from the live band, not to mention the roadies who toted all their equipment. That was, of course, providing Katya didn't have them all fired on a regular basis. Nonetheless, it was still quite a long list of people who obtained regular access to B4U. Even if they didn't all chat, there had to be plenty of opportunities to overhear personal conversations.

  I dropped my pen across my list and sighed. Instead of eliminating any possible suspects, I simply added dozens of more likely ones. "It's a start," I told myself. "Stay positive!"

  I picked up the key card Joe gave us to the room, recalling his stern warning to not let anyone else see the letters, or even let them out of the room. I left the suite, pulling the door shut behind me, and listening for the automatic click of the lock.

  Large and Larger were sitting in their usual positions, posted in front of the elevator. After mentally adding them, along with the entire security team to my list, I approached them.

  "Hi! I'm looking for Joe," I said.

  Large and Larger eyed each other before Large inclined his head towards the furthest suite.

  "Awesome. Thank you!" I edged past their huge bulks and power-walked to the end of the corridor. The door to Amelia and Shelley's suite was open, so I ducked inside, hoping no air missiles would be hurled at me.

  Fortunately, the suite appeared safe as I looked around. It was quiet and someone had obviously done a thorough job of cleaning. The broken pieces of vase were gone and the floor was freshly vacuumed. The air smelled like lemons; and the additional scent of fresh flowers managed to fill the room with a nice aroma. The two bedroom doors were shut.

  "Hello?" I called out. After a moment, I called "Hello?" again.

  No answer.

  I knocked on the door closest to me. Soft footsteps sounded on the other side before the door opened, revealing Shelley. She had on a cute, cropped, pink leather jacket and tight jeans with heels. The purse slung over her arm probably cost more than two months of my salary. "Hey," she said.

  "Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for Joe."

  "I haven't seen him." Shelley stepped outside her bedroom and pulled the door shut. "I have to go out now."

  "Do you want me to alert security?"

  "Why the hell would you do that?"

  "So your assigned bodyguard can stay with you. To keep you safe," I reminded her when she frowned.

  "Oh, right. Him. Yeah, whatever. I'm only going downstairs. I can't stay in this room another minute. I'm bo-o-o-o-o-ored." Shelley stepped around me and swanned out of the room, without waiting to see if I had anything else to say.

  I tried Amelia's door, but there was no answer. When I opened it, it was empty. I took a quick look around, noting how neat and tidy Amelia appeared to be. All her clothes were put away, and the wardrobe doors and drawers were neatly shut. There were a couple of books on the nightstand, which appeared to be of the self-help variety. I had no idea why someone of Amelia's status might need self-help books, but since I wasn't there to snoop — yet — I closed the door and retreated outside. Only when I paused in the doorway to the suite did I notice another door in the opposite wall at the end of the corridor. From it came a man's voice that was low and barely audible.

  I moved towards it, hoping to find Joe. Pausing in the doorway, I saw him at the far end of what appeared to be a housekeeping room, with his back to me. Stacks of towels and toiletries lined the walls, along with large, empty bins, intended for laundry, and a couple of housekeeping carts. There was also a set of sliding doors that I figured must’ve been the service elevator, and designed for the exclusive use of hotel employees. I was just about to call Joe's name when he shifted to one side and I realized he was with a woman. She was shorter than him, with hair that curled at her ears. Their arms were wrapped around each other and they kissed passionately, completely oblivious to my presence.

  I retreated back along the corridor without interrupting them. Given the location, the clinch was clearly something I wasn't meant to see. As I headed toward the security guards, I wondered if she were someone Joe was hiding from the band. She clearly wasn't one of them. The girls of B4U all had long hair, and this woman had very short hair. Maybe she was one of the hotel staff, or one of the crew, trying to have a secret fling. Given Katya's jealous outburst about Solomon yesterday — a man she barely knew — perhaps Joe had to conceal his relationships from the band.

  The elevator opened as I reached it, spilling Katya and Lauren into the corridor. Katya lunged for Lauren's arm, grabbing and twisting. Lauren responded by hitting her with her oversized purse. "Get off me, you psycho bitch!" yelled Lauren.

  "What's going on?" I asked the security guards.

  Neither one made any effort to move. "That one just got into the elevator when the other one came running out and grabbed her p
urse," said Large, pointing to Katya and Lauren.

  "Uh-hmm," said Larger.

  "That's my purse!" screamed Katya, still attempting to wrench it from Lauren's hands.

  "We have the same one. We all got one, remember? I got the gray, you got the black, Shelley got the tan, and Amelia got pink."

  "I want the gray. We have to swap!"

  "No, we don't. It's my purse and you're not taking it. You can't have anything you want, Katya!"

  "I will tell Joe," Katya pouted.

  "Do it. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll fire you."

  "He would never fire me. I know too much."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Lauren asked, stopping dead in the corridor.

  Katya chortled a mean laugh and walked away. Lauren hurried after her and they disappeared inside Katya's suite. The sounds of their persistent bickering drifted out into the corridor.

  "Can you tell Joe I'm looking for him," I asked the security guards. "Couldn't find him."

  "Uh-huh," said Larger. Taking that as a yes, I gave him a grateful smile, wondering if they knew about Joe's closet activities.

  A part of me wanted to pause and listen at the door to Katya's suite when the argument grew louder. I didn't know whether that part of me was the private investigator, a nosy person, or someone who was more than a little awed at being around four internationally famous women. I suspected I was influenced by all three.

  Just as I slipped my key card into the slot outside Joe's suite, the sound of footsteps made me turn around. I was just in time to see Lauren storming out. She paused in the doorway to Katya's suite, turning. "I wrote three of the damn songs for our new album and Amelia wrote the rest, so you can forget trying to steal any credit for them, you talentless bitch. All the royalties are mine; and I'll fight you to the death to keep them!"

  She slammed the door shut behind her and marched down the corridor. A moment later, loud music came on. Clearly, Katya wasn't upset at all, I concluded. Checking my watch, I sighed to find the hands reading eleven. It was going to be a very long day. Grimacing as I turned away, I stepped inside Joe's suite. I deliberately left the door open, in order to give me a clear view of the corridor. The letters were all right where I left them. Joe forbade any copying, but I couldn't work out how else I was supposed to study them away from the hotel without having copies. It wasn't feasible to create an office in there, despite Joe's insistence that we should. There were too many distractions, and too many people with personal motives who could stick their noses into the investigation. I needed to get close to them, but I also needed to maintain some separation. I couldn't have my mind clouded by a barrage of information and suspects, with the soundtrack of B4U screaming at each other. Before I could think it through, I whipped out my phone and began to snap photos of each letter. My task complete, I slipped the phone back into the hip pocket of my dress and hoped Joe wouldn't ask if I adhered to his rules.

  Instead, I turned my attention back to my notepad. The people I really wanted to talk to were the members of B4U, but I didn't see any of them in the corridor. Unless I'd somehow missed them, Amelia still hadn't returned to her room, nor had Shelley. Katya was back in her room as of a half hour ago, and I didn't seen her leave again. After the argument, Lauren marched down the corridor towards Amelia's suite. I didn't think she returned to her room, and guessed she was probably lying low. Since Katya was closest, and I could still hear music playing faintly through the wall, I decided to visit her first.

  As instructed, I went through the rigmarole of relocking Joe's room before I knocked on Katya's suite door. It was ajar and swung open a few inches when I knocked. "Hello? Katya?" I called, but only received silence in return. "Katya, it's me, Lexi Graves, the investigator Joe hired. May I come in?"

  More silence.

  My heart thumped as I pushed the door open further, but nothing crashed against the wall. I stepped inside cautiously, hoping Katya had either calmed down, or was so obsessed about hating Lauren that she might be persuaded to give up Lauren's secret. "What are you doing?" I asked, seeing her leg sticking out from behind the sofa. The leg didn't move. I stepped closer. "Are you okay? Katya? Is that a yoga position?" I asked, puzzled. With a sigh, and fully expecting some kind of nasty trick from Katya, I hurried forwards, determined to get our interview over with.

  Katya wasn't playing any trick, or doing yoga.

  A knife protruding from her back, along with the fresh blood, now pooling from the wound, indicated she was very, very dead.

  Chapter Four

  "Lexi Graves, you must be the unluckiest woman I know."

  "Tell me about it." My oldest brother, Garrett, a long-serving detective on Montgomery's homicide squad, proceeded to do just that, However, I held my hand up after he mentioned the two thugs I found with holes in their heads. That was in the days before I became a PI.

  "Enough!" I wailed. "I know, my life sucks! How could this have happened? I only just heard her arguing with another member of the band! And now she's..." I flapped my hand at Katya's body. It hadn't moved one inch. For me, that was a good thing since I bristled at the very thought of a zombie apocalypse; but for Katya, it was still very bad news.

  "Dead," Garrett helpfully supplied as he pulled out his notepad, his pen poised. "Who was she arguing with?"

  "Lauren. They were shouting at each other. Something about a purse."

  "Just shouting? What did they say?"

  "Actually, they got kind of physical. Katya grabbed Lauren, and Lauren hit her with her purse. Katya was going to tell Joe — he's their manager — and threatened to and Lauren said something like 'Do it. He'll probably fire you' and Katya said Joe would never do that because she knew too much. Later, Lauren said she'd fight her to the death over royalties then she left."

  Garrett looked around for one of the uniformed cops in attendance. "Go find this Lauren. I want to talk to her a-sap," he told him, quietly adding to me, "Also, well done for eavesdropping. This is helpful stuff."

  "I wasn't eavesdropping. I was walking along the corridor when they got out of the elevator. Large and Larger can verify that."

  "Large and Larger?"

  "The security guards who always sit in front of the elevator. Can't miss 'em."

  Garrett nodded. "I know who you mean. Where were you when Katya was stabbed?"

  I was about to say I couldn't believe he'd ask me a question like that, when my name was called. I turned around, smiling, as soon as I saw who stood in the doorway. "Special Agent Maddox!" I grinned as he crossed the room. He gave me a quick hug then stood away, assessing my condition. Apparently, he must’ve found it satisfactory.

  "Another body? Really, Lexi? How many does this make?" he asked, running a hand through his wavy, brown hair. He may have been my ex, but I wasn't immune to the glances he drew from the two female forensic investigators. I couldn't blame them. Maddox was a good-looking man who looked even better than usual, dressed in a dark gray suit and blue shirt and tie.

  "Another one too many," I replied before holding up my fingers and physically counting. "What are you doing here?"

  "High profile murder equals FBI interest. Since I have the best connections with MPD, I volunteered to come down here and see what was going on."

  "We've got one Katya Markova with a knife in her back. She sings with a band named B4U. They're in town temporarily for a concert and also to shoot a video," explained Garrett, checking his notes.

  "I have all those details," replied Maddox, walking over to the body and taking a long look. He glanced over his shoulder at us. "Anyone know why she has a knife in her back?"

  "I was just about to ask Lexi the same question."

  Two sets of eyes bored into me.

  I threw my hands in the air. "I have no idea! I just found her."

  "Let's get out of here and go someplace quiet to talk," Maddox suggested.

  Garrett held up a hand. "Whoa there; we're not done."

  "You're not seriously questioning your sister?" />
  "You're not seriously questioning your ex, and your ex's brother, who also happens to be leading the investigation?" Garrett responded, squaring his shoulders and looking annoyed.

  "Nope. Just thought we'd put Lexi in a quiet room where she can get away from all this blood."

  "Terrific idea," I agreed quickly, since he was exactly right. I have a strong stomach, but seeing the spray of blood on the wall behind Garrett made me queasy. Plus, it was different when you discovered dead bodies of people you didn't know. It was a lot different for me, finding the body of someone who was a living, breathing, albeit, bitchy person, only an hour ago. "Follow me," I said, edging out of the room before either of them could stop me. They didn't, and followed me to Joe's suite, waiting while I unlocked the room and let them in.

  "Whose room is this?" Garrett asked, stepping in and looking around. "Yours?"

  "I wish. No, this is the manager's suite. He's letting me use it while I work on the case."

  "That's some foresight! Hiring you before the murder happened!" Maddox winked as I gathered up the letters, tucking them into the box and out of sight. "Why are you really here?"

  "I'm not sure I can say right now," I told them as we took our seats around the table. "But I can tell you B4U's manager hired me to look into an issue with the band."

  "Could this issue be related to the murder?" asked Garrett. "Throw me a bone here. What's going on?"

  I grimaced. It was something I wondered myself in the minutes between stumbling into the hallway, yelling for help, and the arrival of the police. The blackmail notes were not physical threats, but several ambiguous ones warned about regretting one’s actions if one failed to follow instructions, which I assumed meant releasing whatever secrets the blackmailer had. Plus, the blackmailer was getting paid to keep the secrets. Why would he or she kill one of the cash cows? It seemed too big a step to go from blackmail into murder. "I can't rule it out."