by C. J. Thomas
Then again, she must not have cared about privacy in life, since there wasn’t even a password on the machine. I wondered if all her digital life was like that—if so, it was amazing she’d never been hacked.
The desktop was neatly organized, in stark contrast to my own. I had files strewn across the screen. Hers were arranged in folders and sorted alphabetically. Beneath it all was a picture of her and a young man, both smiling from ear-to-ear. The similarities—chestnut-brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes, straight nose, heart-shaped face—told me he was the brother Julia told me about. She kept him on her desktop to remember him. That touched me more than I liked to admit, even to myself.
I opened the file explorer to see which folder had been touched last. It was the “Photos” folder, last edited the day before Emelia died. I’d start there.
The first handful were just silly junk—a few selfies with other recognizable faces. One from an awards gala, a few from shopping trips and lunches with friends.
She ran around with a lot of people, it seemed. This wasn’t the typical “posing for the paparazzi” stuff, where two virtual strangers exchanging polite conversation were asked to stand together like best friends to smile for a photo. These were totally spontaneous, lighthearted, genuine. I smiled a little as I went through them.
Then, one made me stop. Another selfie, taken in the back seat of a car. Emelia, smiling wide, sitting beside . . . I leaned forward to be sure I wasn’t imagining things. Austin Haynes?
What the hell was she doing with him?
I sat back, thinking hard. Haynes was one of the biggest oil tycoons in the country, and had been since the moment he drew breath and became the heir to his daddy’s kingdom. He didn’t make a move that wasn’t covered by the press.
They made a beautiful couple. Were they a couple, though? It might have been a one-time date.
I scrolled through more photos. No, it wasn’t a one-time date or even a few casual dates. There they were, on a yacht—probably his. There he was, sunbathing on the beach. The two of them, dining together. He took one of her while she was sleeping, she took one of him while he shaved with a towel around his waist. There was a playfulness to the shots. They really enjoyed each other.
Why the hell wasn’t their relationship public? They were more than just two friends, hanging out. Besides, even if it were totally platonic, rumors would have flown thick and fast. They had been very careful to keep it quiet.
But why? Was it just a matter of guarding their privacy? Maybe. Plenty of people did their best to keep some semblance of a normal life to themselves.
But a star of Emelia’s caliber was almost never so successful.
Maybe the press did know, and she paid them to keep their mouths shut—or, rather, a publicist did.
Something wasn’t right. If Haynes was close with her, he had to be investigated. Had she overdosed after a fight with him? A breakup or bad fight could be enough to get even the most level-headed person to lose it. I liked the idea better than a random OD, anyway.
I wondered how long they’d been seeing each other. Had their relationship been smooth? Who would know?
The grapevine. People in Julia’s line of work knew everything. It was an excuse to call her, too. I pulled out my phone to dial her work extension, my eyes going back to a photo of Austin and Emelia as I waited for her to pick up.
127
Julia
MY HEART STOPPED MOMENTARILY when the phone rang and his number showed up on caller ID.
Pierce, Dan.
A smile bloomed on my face before I could stop it. Not that he could see me, so it didn’t matter that I looked like a total doofus.
“Good morning, Mr. Pierce,” I answered, purring into the phone. I was rewarded with a chuckle that set my toes on fire. Even his voice was sexy.
“Good morning, yourself. Wait, I must have dialed the wrong number. I meant to reach Julia Mabel, not a sex hotline.”
“Oh, sorry. I got mixed-up. That’s my nighttime gig.” He laughed again. I loved knowing I could make him laugh.
“Guess where I am?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
My eyes widened—here I was, expecting playful banter, maybe even an invite for another date. I would have said yes in a heartbeat after the way he left me aching for more. Now he sounded like Detective Dan, on the case.
“I have no idea,” I replied.
“A certain recently-deceased celebrity’s apartment.”
That got my attention. I sat bolt upright. “Why? Did something happen? A break in the case?”
“Hold your horses. And don’t speak so loudly—I don’t want anybody else to hear.”
He was right, of course. The minute one of my coworkers got the hint that something hot was going on, they’d be on me like piranhas looking for their next meal.
“Okay. What is it?” I asked, my tone more subdued.
“I think I have a break, here. You got me thinking, so I came back to look around without so many distractions. I was sure we must have missed something.” He chuckled lightly. “We missed something, all right.”
My head spun with the possibilities. A note? Fingerprints? A signed photo of the killer committing the murder?
“Can you come over?”
“Are you kidding? I was just about to hang up and jump in the car. Only, make sure your goons know I’m coming up—I’ve been kicked out of fancy places before, and don’t want it to happen again.”
He chuckled again, his tone lighter. “Fair enough. I’ll see you in a bit.” I grabbed my things and nearly ran out the door, my heart racing.
A break in the case! I knew it! I could have jumped for joy, knowing he took me seriously enough to look back into it. I wasn’t just some chick to him. He respected my intelligence.
He also respected my mouth, after giving it the workout he had the night before. It was a struggle to focus on the road as I drove, thoughts of that electrifying kiss filling my head. My body responded at the memory, filling me with warmth and a slow, aching pulse between my legs.
He was that good.
I sighed softly, remembering what it was like to be completely overwhelmed by his nearness.
Before getting out of the car, I swung the rearview mirror in my direction and applied a quick coat of lip gloss. I breathed into my hand to check my breath—it smelled like coffee, but could have been worse. It would have to do, since I didn’t have gum or a mint in my purse. I twisted my curls into a loose bun and secured it with a clip. Nothing in my teeth. Okay. I was good to go.
True to his word, Dan must have let the guards know I was coming up. They stepped aside with a nod when I showed them my ID. What a difference when compared to the day before. My heart raced as the elevator cruised up to the top floor, and by the time the doors opened I needed to rub my sweaty palms over my thighs to dry them.
“He’s just a man,” I whispered to myself as I stepped off the elevator and into Emelia’s apartment—or, rather, what was her apartment.
My heart sank a little as I stepped inside. There was such a deep silence. She would never come back. It felt almost like disturbing a grave, morbid as it sounded even in my thoughts. I would never have stepped foot into the apartment if Dan hadn’t called.
“Julia?” He sat in the living room. I joined him there.
“Hi.” I felt like an awkward schoolgirl, and chastised myself for not dressing a little nicer when I saw yet another perfectly-tailored suit hanging off Dan’s exquisite body. Now that the two of us were seeing more of each other, I had to be ready for anything. Jeans and a t-shirt wouldn’t do.
“Hi, yourself,” he grinned. “I’m glad you came.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked. Gah, my voice cracked. What was wrong with me? Maybe it was the way his smile made my hands shake and my breath come in little gasps.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his grin widening. He had the cutest dimples. “I didn’t know what else to say. Come, sit. I want you to see this.”
<
br /> Nerves vanished when I noticed he sat in front of an open laptop. “Emelia’s?” I gasped in wonder.
“Yup. Still sitting here.”
“You didn’t take it in for evidence?” I sat beside him on the sofa, my mouth open in wonder. I had never heard of anything like it. The laptop would normally have been bagged and sent straight to the lab. Everybody knew that.
“I guess we were satisfied with the original theory.” His tone was flat, grim. He wasn’t satisfied with the work he’d done. As sorry as I felt for him, I agreed with him, too. He shouldn’t have been satisfied with such a half-hearted attempt at an investigation. If it hadn’t been for me poking at him, he might have moved on. Emelia would be just another closet junkie, chewed up and spit out.
She would get justice. All because of me. Julia Mabel, superhero.
I shook my head to get myself under control. It had to be the way he made me feel whenever we were together. I turned into a complete idiot.
“What do you have here?” I asked, nodding toward the screen.
I told myself to stop thinking about how close he was, about how easy it would be to lean over, just a little, and pick up where we left off in the parking lot. The sofa was wide, and comfortable. Hell, I would have made out with him on a slab of concrete.
Sure, Julia. Make out with the detective on the dead girl’s sofa. Classy move.
“A bunch of photos. Ready?” He clicked on the trackpad, revealing a picture of Emelia and—
“Austin Haynes?” I recoiled, stunned, my face twisted in a disbelieving smirk. “What were they doing together?”
“You didn’t know about them?” he asked.
“No, why?”
“I thought maybe they were an open secret in the media, but a publicist paid the papers off. Just a hunch.”
I shook my head, reaching over him to scroll through the files. Our hands touched briefly, sending a tingle straight up my arm. Jesus, I needed a hormone suppressant whenever he was anywhere near me.
He must have felt it, too, since he jumped like I’d shocked him.
I told myself to get my urges under control as I went through the pictures. “What were they doing together?” I muttered. “Whatever it was, they look happy.”
“I thought that, myself,” he admitted.
“They look so playful. They were in love. Or pretending to be.” I bit my lip, mulling it over.
He chuckled. “You’re a real romantic at heart, aren’t you?” he asked, sarcastic as hell.
I glanced at him with a smirk. “Let’s be grownups for a second, Detective. There were never two people more ill-suited. You have Haynes, here. Silver spoon, oil tycoon Austin Haynes. His family’s been ripping up the ground to find oil for generations. Then you have Miss Emelia. Do you have any idea how many environmental protests she headed up? It was her pet project, saving the world. A huge advocate. She donated tons of money to charitable causes.”
“How do you know all this about her?” he asked.
I blushed. “I keep up with things. Remember, my finger has to be on the pulse at all times. And it wasn’t exactly a secret. Just because you don’t keep up with current events—”
“A movie star protesting oil drilling counts as current events? Gee, to think I wasted all that time watching CNN.” I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the sarcasm that still dripped from his voice.
“Regardless, the fact remains that he’s the last person she would have dated. Emelia was one of the rare breed of people with principles. When she believed in something, she believed strongly. The environment, keeping drugs away from kids, that sort of thing. Dating Austin would have gone against everything she stood for.” I sat with my elbows on my knees, my chin in my hands. They looked happy, but she had been a great actress, too.
“She might have been using him,” Dan suggested. I turned to look at him.
“For what?”
“Information. You know, about his business. She might have been trying to shut him down.”
I raised an eyebrow. He might have been on to something. “You’re not just a pretty face,” I murmured.
“That’s what they tell me. It’ll be on my tombstone.” He smirked, then continued, “Maybe she spied on him, and he found out. Could he have killed her?”
I looked back at the couple on the screen. “If she were about to cost him enough money, I wouldn’t doubt it,” I agreed.
“Looks like this needs to be investigated as a homicide, then,” he said.
I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t want to share my doubts with him—how ridiculous would that seem, after it was me who convinced him to investigate in the first place?
Austin might have been a slimy oil tycoon, but he had absolutely no record of violence whatsoever. The most he ever got into trouble for was throwing loud parties and a couple DUIs. Sure, he made irresponsible decisions that put others in harm’s way by driving under the influence. But murder? There weren’t even the sort of whispers that usually follow the ultra-rich around—private sex clubs, fetishes, harassment, that sort of thing. For all intents and purposes, he was squeaky clean, just as Emelia had been.
“Do you think he had it in him?” I asked.
“If enough money was involved? I think he’d be capable of anything. And it’s not as if he needed to do it himself. He might have hired a professional to do it for him. The rich don’t want to get their hands dirty.”
The finality of his tone told me he didn’t want to be convinced otherwise. I suppressed a sigh. Sexy as he was, he was also quick to arrive at a conclusion and slow to change his mind.
He had taken me seriously, enough to take a deeper look, at least. And that meant the world to me.
I checked my watch. “Dang it,” I muttered, standing. “I have a meeting in a half hour. I’ve gotta get back to the office.” When I looked down at Dan, still seated, there was no missing the way his eyes darted from my butt to my face. So he was checking me out. I warmed all over.
I also got an idea. “You know, there’s a huge party tonight. Total A-list stuff.”
“And? It’s LA. What else is new?”
I shook my head. “The point is, I’m going.”
“You? To an A-list party?”
“Make one more crack, Pierce. So help me—”
“Sorry, sorry.” He held his hands up. “I’m not trying to insult you. I didn’t think the in-crowd invited you to their little parties. That’s all.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re the enemy, aren’t you?”
I grinned. “Buddy, you have no idea. How do you think I get the stories I get? Why do you think nothing I report on is ever all that damaging? I walk the line between insider information and keeping the celebs safe from complete, career-ending scandal. Think that over the next time you have a minute to spare.” I turned to leave, knowing he would stop me. When he did, I smiled victoriously to myself.
“So you work with them, not against them?”
I turned back. “The detective cracks another case. They like me. I like them. It works. Besides, the magazine is sending me. The difference is, people actually talk to me when I get there. Other columnists get the cold shoulder.”
He stood, crossing the room to where I stood. “Why did you bring up the subject?” he asked, his voice low and intimate. It reached every part of my body, including the very warm and suddenly very wet part between my legs.
“Because I was going to ask if you’d like to go with me. You were too busy being smug to let me get the invitation out of my mouth.” It was all I could do to stay in control of myself. In my head, I had a vision of jumping him, then climbing him like a tree.
Simmer down, girl.
“Me? Amongst the glitterati?” He grinned.
“Please. You told me yourself you’ve been down that road before. Don’t act like it’s too much for you, in your fancy suits.” I reached out and gently flipped one of his lapels.
“Is this a date, Ms. Mabel?”
My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Instead, I shrugged, then left without a word. The sound of his soft chuckling followed me.
128
Dan
MY PARTNER STARED AT ME, his mouth hanging open in shock. “You’re going where?”
“It’s some big party. Julia invited me.” She’d just texted me the details. Her last message was simple, but effective: Black tie. Nobody on the squad knew about my near-brush with Hollywood fame, and I wanted to keep it that way. As far as Frank or anybody else was concerned, this would be the closest I’d ever come to the rich and famous.
Frank laughed, shaking his head. “Some guys have all the luck, don’t they?” He was still laughing when he turned his attention back to his work.
Yes, some guys had all the luck. I did feel pretty lucky, knowing I’d be spending the evening with Julia—with or without a tux.
It was a chance to see her dressed up again, too, which I looked forward to very much. I wanted to see more of her body, though the view I got of her firm ass in those tight jeans wasn’t so bad.
I made a call to the garage. “Chuck? It’s Dan Pierce. Can you have the Jaguar ready for tonight? I have a special occasion I’d like to take it out for.”
It was time to break out the big guns.
I PICKED her up at seven, rolling to a stop in front of her apartment building. I felt a little out of place and picked up a few stares from passersby, but the stare I cared most about came from Julia when she stepped out of the building.
I stared at her, too. She took my breath away. Just when I thought she couldn’t outdo herself—
“Is this a Jaguar F-Type?” she whispered, running her hand over the hood. I stopped staring at her long enough to let out a surprised laugh.
“Is there anything you don’t know about?” I asked.
“I didn’t know you drove one of these. Holy cow.” She looked it over with deep admiration. Meanwhile, I wondered if she would mind if I took her, then and there. She was perfection in a long, flowing gown of a gauzy blue fabric, cut low in the front and back, tying in a halter behind her neck. It looked like it should be see-through, but there was a nude fabric underneath that kept her covered. She was the picture of class, sophistication.
