Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3)

by Gemma Halliday

  "I'm mostly here for moral support," I said, feeling my cheeks heat. "Uh, Hartley Featherstone."

  "Ah. Nice to meet you, Ms. Featherstone. And you must be Samantha Kramer," she said, addressing Sam. "And Mr. Erikson."

  Chase gave her a wide smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Lyons. I'm a big fan of your games."

  I had no idea if he was telling the truth or not, but some of the woman's professional coolness thawed at the flattery. "Please, call me Phoebe. And thanks. We're a small company, but we're growing."

  "You are one of the founders, right? You and Connor Simon?" I asked.

  Her eyes flickered to me for a moment before going back to the papers in her hands. "Yes." It was a single word and felt forced.

  "I heard about his…unfortunate passing," I said. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

  "Thank you." It was said in an emotionless monotone, her eyes never leaving my application. Which was a dead giveaway she was trying to hide something, since my application was nearly blank. She could have read it twice by now.

  "You two must have been close," Sam piped up. "I mean, being partners and all."

  Phoebe sucked in a breath and raised her eyes to focus on us. "At one point, we were."

  "Before Simon went to work with VizaSoft," Chase added.

  She nodded curtly. "Yes. Well, I'm running the company on my own now." Her tone gave nothing away as to how she felt about that.

  "It must have been devastating when he left you," I noted.

  Phoebe let out a sudden bark of laughter. "Left me? You make me sound like some sort of jilted lover." She shook her head. "Look, I don't know what you've read in the trades, but Connor's leaving Peak wasn't personal. It was business."

  "Seems like it was good business for him," Chase said.

  "And for us. We have a whole new series of games coming out for the holiday season, and we're courting several new developers," she said, her tone defensive.

  "So it was a mutual decision for you to part ways?" Sam asked. "An amiable one?"

  "Of course," Phoebe said. Though something about her tone made me wonder if that was the whole truth.

  "Still, it can't have felt good that he'd just leave you to go put out his biggest game yet on his own?" Chase pressed.

  She shook her head. "I told you it wasn't personal. He had an offer from VizaSoft, and his manager felt it was a good opportunity."

  "His manager?" I asked.

  "Pruit. Jason Pruit. He's been managing Connor's career since his eSports days."

  "Was it his idea that Connor leave Peak Games?"

  Phoebe sighed. "I don't know whose idea it was, but I know Connor didn't make a move without Pruit. The man controlled every aspect of his life from what VCs we met to what restaurants he was seen at with that stick thing of his."

  I couldn't help a snort at the mention of the model girlfriend.

  "Anyway," she went on, "VizaSoft had the backing to implement some of Connor's bigger ideas. So he left."

  "Ideas like Athena's Quest," Sam said.

  "Yes, that was hyped up quite a bit, wasn't it?" The disdain in her voice was clear as her eyes went to the applications again, shuffling mine to the back.

  "There was certainly a long line at the VizaSoft booth at Gamer Con yesterday," Sam pointed out.

  Phoebe's head snapped up. "You were there?"

  Sam looked from Chase to me. "Uh…yeah. I'm…a fan," she quickly covered.

  Phoebe nodded, though I could see something flitting behind her eyes. "Yes, well, Connor always did have lots of female fans."

  "That's the best thing about your games," I piped up. "The feminist undertones. The women aren't token characters but stars of the show."

  Phoebe turned her gaze toward me. As if suddenly remembering I was there, having mentally dismissed me as a candidate already. "Thank you. I think so too." She put her pen down, giving me her attention. "Which game is your favorite?"

  "My favorite?"

  "In our goddess series."

  I licked my lips. "Oh, they're all so great, it's hard to pick one," I said, racking my brain to try to remember the names Ellen had mention at the con the day before. There was something about a Sphinx? Or a Nyx?

  "I, for one, think your latest is the shining star. Hera's Pride," Chase jumped in.

  I sent him a silent thank-you.

  "Yes. That was Connor's favorite too." A look of sadness crossed her features, true emotion at his passing showing for the first time in the little frown between her eyebrows.

  I bit my lip, wondering how far I could press before we were officially the nosiest intern applicants ever. "I heard that Connor's death is being investigated as a homicide. You don't have any idea who might have wanted to harm Connor, do you?"

  The frown deepened. "No." She shook her head as if shaking herself out of a dream. "But then again, I haven't seen Connor in forever, so what would I know about his life?"

  "Did Peak Games have a booth at the convention?" I asked.

  "Uh, yes. Of course. We wanted our games to be represented."

  "So you were at the convention when Connor…when it happened?" I settled on.

  "No," she said slowly.

  "Oh? Who was manning the booth?" Sam asked.

  "We do have employees, you know?" she said, nodding toward the closed door.

  Right. "So, you were…here?" I asked, fishing for an alibi.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. "Why?"

  Why indeed.

  "We're just excited to learn about how a real CEO manages her company." Chase gave her a big smile with teeth and everything.

  Her expression was still wary as she moved her gaze from me to Sam to Chase's grin. "I see." She picked up her pen again. "Well, we're looking to hire a minimum of four interns this summer. Three will work the floor, and one will work directly with me." Her eyes went to Chase. "Tell me about the Homepage?"

  For a second I thought our jig was up and she'd figured out why we were really there.

  "The Homepage?" Chase asked. To his credit, his voice didn't even go up into the soprano register with the kind of guilt I felt spreading across my cheeks.

  "Yes. How many reporters do you manage on the school paper?" Phoebe asked. "Because we are looking for interns who have management potential down the line."

  I did a mental sigh of relief.

  "Oh, uh, seven. But a lot of what we do is virtual."

  Phoebe nodded. "Well, we'd expect most of your time here to be in the office. We like to be more hands-on with our interns."

  "I can do hands-on." It might have been my imagination, but I could swear there was the slightest hint of flirt in Chase's voice.

  "Yes, well, let's look over the rest of your application then, shall we?"

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ten minutes later Phoebe had promised Chase that he'd hear back from Peak Games soon about the internship, and she'd given both Sam and me wan smiles that said we needed to up our games.

  "Were you flirting with her?" Sam asked Chase as we crossed the parking lot back to his Camaro.

  "What?" He scoffed. "Come on. No."

  "If that's what it takes to get ahead, I'm never going to get an internship on my college app," Sam sulked.

  "At least she didn't look at your application like it had been done in crayon," I reasoned.

  Sam shrugged. "Still. Look who gets the job: the flirt."

  "I was not flirting!" Chase protested again as he unlocked his car and we piled in. "Besides, I'm not her type. She clearly had a thing for Connor."

  "Clearly?" I asked, turning to face him. "What 'clearly'? I didn't get that."

  "Think about it. They were partners…they worked closely together…" He trailed off, giving me a knowing grin.

  "You know, just because a guy and a girl work together, it doesn't mean they're into each other," I reasoned.

  Chase's grin grew into a positively wicked smile. "Yeah, well, it doesn't mean they aren't either."

  I licked my sudde
nly dry lips, hoping we were still talking about Phoebe and Connor.

  Or maybe hoping we weren't.

  "Well, even if they had been a thing," Sam piped up from the back seat, "it had to be a thing of the past. I mean, he left her, right? She'd be pretty ticked after that."

  "Right." Chase sat back in his seat, fastening his seat belt. "But ticked enough to kill him?"

  I shrugged, fastening my own belt. Tightly. "I guess it depends on if the split really was mutual or not." I paused. "You think the manager would know?"

  "Connor's manager?" Sam asked.

  I nodded. "Yeah, what was his name…Pruit? Phoebe said he had a hand in everything Connor did. He must know the details of the split."

  "You think he'd talk to us about it?" Sam asked.

  "Worth a try," Chase said, pulling out his phone.

  A few quick clicks later he had the number for Silicon Valley Management on speaker phone. Three rings in, it was answered by a recorded voice that told us their offices were open Monday through Friday from nine to five and to please call back during business hours.

  Chase hung up with a shrug. "I guess we can try again later."

  Out the car window I could see the sun beginning to set. "While this has all been fun, I think I better get home before my mom—"

  My phone chirped. I glanced down to see a text from Mom.

  Where are you?

  Too late. The SMother had caught my scent.

  I'm with Sam, I sent back, feeling guilty for letting her assume I meant at the library and not riding around with Chase trying to ferret out a murderer.

  Her response was immediate, like she'd been standing there staring at her phone, waiting for my reply.

  Can you come home now? David is coming over for dinner.

  Oh boy. The only thing I dreaded more than Mom's interrogation about how I'd spent my Sunday was enduring David in my house. With my mother.

  "Is that your mom?" Sam surmised as Chase revved his engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

  I nodded, shooting back a quick, on my way. "Can you drop me off at home?" I asked Chase.

  "Sure," he agreed. He glanced over at my phone. "Everything okay?"

  "Sorta." I shot him a look. "Raley's coming over for dinner."

  "Your mom and the detective are getting kinda serious, huh?" Chase asked.

  I scoffed and shook my head. "No. No way. I'm sure it's just a temporary thing."

  One could hope.

  "I don't know," Sam said. "Last time I slept over I caught them on the sofa—"

  "Stop!" I commanded, putting my fingers in my ears. "I do not want to know what they do on my sofa."

  Sam chuckled. "Let's just say they were canoodling."

  I wasn't exactly certain what a canoodle entailed, but I was pretty sure I could never sit there again.

  "Sorry," Sam offered. "Do you need me to come over for moral support?" She put a hand on my shoulder from the back seat.

  I swiveled around as far as my boa constrictor seat belt would allow. "Would you?" I asked.

  She nodded vigorously. "If it means avoiding the mood my parents are going to be in because Kevin has refused to move out once again? Heck yeah."

  * * *

  Once I'd cleared it with Mom for Sam to sleep over, and Sam had cleared it with her parents, Chase dropped us both in front of my house with a promise to meet us at the con when it re-opened in the morning.

  Even with Chase's Speed Racer driving, it appeared that Raley had beaten us to my house. His beige sedan sat at the curb in front of my mom's azalea bushes.

  I took a deep fortifying breath before leading the way up the front path to my door. I fished in my pocket for my key and twisted it in the lock, the scents of garlic and basil hitting my nostrils as soon as I pushed inside.

  "Hello?" I called out. Mostly so I didn't accidentally walk in on Mom and her date doing anything disgusting enough that I'd need brain bleach.

  Mom's head popped into the kitchen doorway as Sam and I shut the front door behind us. "Hartley! There you are. Didn't you say you were leaving the library ages ago?"

  "Uh…did I?" She had a point. While Peak Games' offices were in Sunnyvale, the library was like five minutes away.

  "I was starting to get worried." Mom put her hands on her slim hips. Encased not, I noticed, in her usual yoga pants but a little black dress that hit just a couple inches higher on her thigh than was decent for a woman of her age.

  "We, uh, had to call Sam's parents to make sure it was okay for her to sleep over," I said quickly. Which had been true. I figured the fact that we'd done it en route from Phoebe Lyon's office was a detail she didn't need.

  "Oh. Well, hi, Sam," Mom said, waving a hand covered in a red potholder at her. "Come on in. Lasagna's just about ready."

  "It smells great, Mrs. Featherstone," Sam said, following me into the kitchen.

  "Don't get too excited," I whispered to her. "This is my mom's cooking, remember."

  As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, any appetite I might have had vanished at the unsettling scene before me. Raley stood near the stove, stirring a pot of sauce. He had a glass of wine in one hand, a dopey smile on his face, and he looked way too comfortable and at home in my kitchen. He turned as he heard us approach. "Hey, Hartley."

  "Hey," I shot back. Maybe in a tone that was a little more defensive than friendly.

  Mom gave me a look.

  What? I mouthed back.

  "Uh, David was nice enough to bring a chocolate cake for dessert," Mom said.

  David. I refused to be on a first name basis with Detective Raley.

  "Do you like cake, Sam?" Mom asked, her voice more chipper than the occasion warranted.

  "Love it," Sam said, leaning in to see what was bubbling on the stove. "What's that green stuff?"

  "Zoodles," Mom said.

  Sam gave me a blank look.

  "Zucchini noodles," I explained. I shrugged. "Told you so."

  "They're higher in fiber than grain noodles and gluten free," Mom said. "Plus they complement the vegan ricotta."

  "Vegan ricotta?" Sam gave me a wary look this time.

  "Tofu," I translated.

  Suddenly Sam looked as green as the zoodles.

  Raley chuckled. "Don't worry. At least we have real cake to wash it down."

  "Vegetables are real food," Mom said, giving him a playful swat on the arm, accompanied by a giggle. An actual giggle. Like a middle schooler.

  "Well, I love cake," Sam said, clearly looking on the bright side.

  "Hartley too. Chocolate is her favorite, David," Mom said.

  "Actually, it's red velvet," I shot back.

  Mom gave me that look again.

  What? I mouthed again.

  Be nice! she mouthed back as Raley turned his attention to the stove. Her eyebrows drew down into a firm line that said I was pushing it.

  I resisted an eye roll. Mostly because my mom's date carried a gun. And the way she was looking at me, she might not be above using it.

  "Sam, I heard you dressed up for the convention yesterday," Mom said, turning her perky voice on Sam to keep the chitchat light.

  "Yeah. Link. It was old-school, but it was kind of last minute. I'm thinking maybe I can go a little edgier tomorrow though and try something more modern."

  "Tomorrow?" Mom frowned. "You girls aren't thinking of going back, are you?"

  "Well, yeah." I looked from Mom to Sam. "I mean, our tickets are good all weekend."

  "No." Mom shook her head from side to side. "Hartley, someone was killed there!"

  "Mom, it was hardly a random crime," I whined.

  "You don't know that."

  "The police do." I shot a meaningful look toward Raley. Who, by the way, had become inordinately interested in the sauce during our exchange.

  He slowly turned around. "Hmm?"

  "Tell my mom that there is not some random killer running around the convention center," I demanded.

  "Hartley, that is no way
to speak to a guest," Mom warned.

  I took a deep breath. I counted to five. I was about to tell Mom what I thought of our "guest" when he piped up, beating me to it.

  "Actually, I think Hartley is right."

  He did?

  "You do?" Mom asked.

  Raley nodded slowly, eyes going from me to Sam. "We've secured the immediate crime scene and the convention is cleared to resume tomorrow. There are extra security measures in place, and I honestly don't think we're looking at a random crime."

  "See?" I couldn't help saying.

  The look came back.

  I shut my mouth again. Better to quit while I was ahead.

  "If this wasn't a random crime," Sam, who had been listening to all of this, said, "who do you think did it?"

  But Raley shook his head. "I can't share information about suspects in an ongoing investigation." He turned to Mom. "But I do think the girls will be perfectly safe at the convention tomorrow."

  I could see he was wearing her down. Either that, or she didn't want to look too crazy overprotective in front of her new boyfriend. "I don't know…" she hedged.

  "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll be sure to look in on them while I'm there tomorrow, too."

  Oh fab. Just what I needed. Raley looking in on me. I made a mental note to make sure I was nowhere in when he came looking.

  But the promise had the desired effect on Mom. The worry lines between her eyebrows smoothed out, and her shoulders sagged, her face giving way to a slow smile. "Well, I guess if you feel like it's safe."

  "I do," Raley agreed. "Now, let's get to that lasagna. I'm starving."

  The joke was on him. I was pretty sure he'd still be starving after the vegan version.

  * * *

  "It wasn't that bad," Sam said an hour later as she sat cross-legged on my bedspread, texting Kyle all about our day. "I mean, the sauce was good."

  I shrugged. "I guess if you closed your eyes, you could kinda pretend the noodles were real."

  "And the cake was delicious," Sam added.

  I had to concede that point to Raley. I'd had two slices.

  Luckily between Sam as a buffer and food as a great reason not to talk, I'd been able to make it through dinner without incurring too many more of Mom's looks or watching Raley get too comfortable in my home. After cake, Sam and I had declined their invitation to watch a movie with them, and we'd escaped to my room. Where we'd spent the last half hour going over what we'd learned about Connor Simon and typing up a draft of a story on my laptop.