Carmen looked distraught. A frown crossed her brow, then she turned and looked at Eric. “Do you mind, James? I forgot my bag. I have something in it I need to give to Edmond. It’s in the room. Would you be a love and fetch it for me? I’m sure Mimi’s friend here won’t mind filling in for you and watching over me while you’re away. And Mimi, you won’t care, will you, darling?” She glanced hungrily at Mimi’s escort, like she planned to eat him for dessert, then back to me. “And while you’re at it, James, why don’t you take Ms. Childs with you? She’s been making eyes at you from the moment we walked in. Perhaps she’ll be luckier with you than I’ve been.”
Chapter 12
I would have done anything to get away from Mimi’s after-party, but being dismissed by Carmen and leaving with Eric felt wrong, even awkward. The fact Eric was working undercover and I wasn’t supposed to know but clearly did only added to the problem. And then there was this new issue concerning the brooch. I had an uncomfortable feeling it was somehow connected to the robberies and that maybe Eric thought so as well. Added to the mix was the overwhelming thought of being alone with Eric, particularly in Carmen’s private suite. After our self-imposed hiatus, the idea had me feeling like I was sixteen again.
Eric had to be feeling the same thing. He stood behind me in the elevator, and as the doors closed, he rested his hands lightly on my shoulders. With his lips pressed ever so softly against my ear, he whispered, “You again.”
“Yes, me,” I said. I leaned back against him. Thoughts of anything else, the brooch, his work, my job, melted from my mind. His gentle touch sent small electric charges up and down my body as he wrapped his arms around me.
“You shouldn’t be here, Carol.”
“I know.” I closed my eyes and leaned back against his chest. I felt myself growing warm, my temperature rising as the elevator took us up to the penthouse. When the doors opened, Eric took my hand and led the way down the hall, past several more plainclothed security guards who appeared to ignore our passing.
“Welcome to Carmen’s retreat.” Eric stepped ahead of me into the room and gestured to the surrounding opulence. “Three thousand square feet of sky-high luxury, for one night only.”
Inside was the most luxurious suite I’d ever seen. It was hard to believe anyone would lavish such extravagance upon themselves, particularly when they lived in the same city and only planned to use this as a changing room. But obviously money wasn’t an issue. Fresh floral arrangements were everywhere. A masseuse’s table had been set up in the center of the great room. Gowns, shoes, and garments were hung on a porter’s gold clothing rack. Changes for Carmen’s walk down the red carpet, the awards show, something for the after-party, and a negligee. On the sofa, I noticed the small clutch Carmen had sent Eric to fetch. He picked it up.
“We need to talk, Carol.”
Behind him, thousands of tiny white lights from the windows overlooking the city blinked back at me. I stepped closer and laced my fingers flirtatiously around his neck.
“You don’t need to rush back to Carmen?” I was enjoying this little seductive moment, payback for time with Carmen, and hoping if he had any thoughts of discussing the brooch she had noticed, I could divert his attention.
He put his hands on top of mine, Carmen’s small white bag still between his fingers, and smiled into my eyes. “Carmen’s fine, Carol. There’s enough security in this hotel to guard Fort Knox.”
“And you don’t think she’ll be waiting for you to bring her bag? That she won’t be concerned about the ring or Mr. Churchill?”
“It’s the same ring she had on the morning of the robbery,” Eric said.
“Could I see it?”
“The ring?”
“Yes. If it was important enough for her to send you up here to get, it must be fabulous. Do you mind?”
Eric stepped back from me, opened the small white clutch, and took out the largest diamond ring I’d ever seen. He held it between us, like a forbidden fruit, and together we stared at it, my hands on top of his. It was spectacular. A huge square cut stone, so big it didn’t look real.
“I can’t believe she forgot that.”
“Carmen was supposed to give it to Churchill the day of the robbery. She says it slipped her mind, that she was so busy with her necklace and earrings that she forgot to take it off and leave it with him. But the ring’s not why we need to talk, Carol.”
I felt my stomach turn. We were back to the brooch. There was no getting around it. Eric hadn’t forgotten, and I could think of a thousand other things I wanted to talk about. Things that wouldn’t make it look like I’d stepped into the middle of a case he was working and maybe even helped a suspect to escape.
“Maybe we better hurry back,” I said. “Carmen must be getting worried.”
“I don’t think a little longer will hurt. But you, on the other hand, you look like something might be bothering you.” He put Carmen’s ring back in the bag and put his hand back on mine. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Something I wanted to tell him? I pulled my hand away. What about what I wanted him to tell me? I had so many questions. About him. About Carmen. About the diamonds. About what he knew.
I touched the pin above my pounding heart. “You mean about this brooch?” I fessed up. There was no point in avoiding the obvious.
“Yes, Carol, the brooch. Where did you get it?” Eric took my fingers in his hand and waited for me to reply.
I explained how after my broadcast on the day of the robbery that I was coming back to my car when I stopped and helped an old lady. “An old gray-haired lady,” I said. The way I said it made me wonder, was I trying to justify it to myself or convince Eric the woman I stopped to help couldn’t possibly be the redheaded bandit everyone was looking for?
“And you didn’t think there was anything suspicious about that?”
“No. Not at the time.” I knew I sounded defensive. My voice had a shrill ring to it. I took a deep breath and concentrated on sounding more controlled. “Look, she was an old lady, and I had just witnessed an explosion and you coming out of Westin’s with Carmen on your arm. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.”
Eric stared into my eyes, the look on his face dumbstruck. I wasn’t sure if he was feeling sorry for me or couldn’t believe what I was telling him.
“Besides, you know how I am. I rescue lost dogs and talk to old people.” If there was one problem Eric and I had, it was that he thought I was too trusting. Maybe I was.
“Okay,” he said. It appeared he was putting things in perspective and working very hard to understand how I came be in such a predicament. And, I thought, maybe he understood how it was partially his fault I had been so sidetracked. “This old woman, Carol, could you describe her any better than that? How tall she was, size, weight?”
“Old. Bent-over. Like I said, gray hair, and she was carrying several large shopping bags.”
“Go on. What else did you notice about her?”
“The bags were full. Overloaded, in fact. I think she had a coat or something covering one of them, and she was wearing gloves. I remember the gloves. They were long and white. Out of season, come to think of it.”
“That’s good.” Eric smiled and squeezed my hand. “What happened next?”
“She looked like she might have been struggling with the bags, and I offered to carry some for her. She seemed appreciative, and when we got to the garage, she gave me the brooch as a thank you for helping her. I tried to tell her I couldn’t possibly accept it, but the valet interrupted me. By the time I found my wallet she had disappeared. To be honest, I totally forgot about it until this afternoon when I was looking for something to dress up my outfit for tonight’s show. I had no idea if it was real. I thought it was just some fancy piece of costume jewelry the old woman had on her jacket.”
“Do you mind?” Eric carefully unpinned th
e brooch from my dress and looked closely at the workmanship. “I’m no jeweler, but this does look real.”
“I know. Churchill told me as much a few minutes ago. And now I think the woman who gave it to me may very well be the Wigged Bandit, and maybe I helped her escape.”
I could see Eric was making a mental note of everything I told him. He asked me to recount the events of the morning of the bombing and everything that had happened since then. I began with telling him what he already knew. How Sheri and I had seen him on the street with Carmen just moments before the doors on Henry Westin’s blew open. How I’d interviewed Detective Lewis and knew Westin’s wasn’t the only robbery LAPD was concerned about, and how Mr. Churchill had confided in me about Carmen being a courier for her husband. That she had used a black eyeglass case to deliver loose cut stones and gems to Henry Westin’s the morning of the explosion. And that I suspected the FBI was involved and knew Eric had to be working undercover.
“And since the bombing, anything else happen you think might be related?”
“Not that I can think of, why?”
“I’ll explain later, but right now, I need you to think. Has anyone contacted you or sent you anything you found strange since the robbery?”
I started to shake my head, and then I remembered the crazy caller, Tomi, who had called the station the morning after the bombing. I explained to Eric what had happened.
“She kept going on about how Ms. Pero wasn’t supposed to die. That it was an accident. She started to get upset, and Kari wanted to dump the call, but I stopped her and I asked Matt if he could trace it. But he said he couldn’t. And then the line went dead. After a while I dismissed it. The station always gets a few crazies after a big story.” I told him I had mentioned the call to Detective Lewis, but that he didn’t think much about it. Said unless she called back, not to worry. “Why, you think it’s connected?”
“Let’s just say it wouldn’t be out of character.”
“Really? You think Tomi might have something to do with the robbery? That maybe she’s the Wigged Bandit?”
“I don’t know. But what I can tell you—off the record—is that the police reported finding several abandoned shopping bags just around the corner from the parking garage where you were the morning of the bombing. And guess what was in them?”
“I don’t need to guess. A red wig.”
“Among other things we believe our Wigged Bandit may have used to disguise herself for the robbery.”
Dammit. I put my hand back over my heart, just below where the pin had been. It was beating even harder than it was before. I could kick myself.
“So I’m involved.”
“Looks like it,” Eric said.
“Okay, then suppose I ask you a few questions.”
“I’ll answer what I can.”
“Does Carmen know who you really are? Or Churchill? Do they know the FBI’s involved?”
Eric shook his head. “Not at all. And as far as Carmen’s concerned, she thinks we’re all professional escorts. Nothing more.”
“All of you?”
Eric ignored my obvious implication and answered, “We’ve infiltrated Carmen’s network of escorts. She hires them regularly. She doesn’t like to go places alone, and it was an easy cover.”
“I’ll bet.” I raised an eyebrow a bit sarcastically and smiled.
“Nobody knows, Carol.”
“Not even Mimi? She mentioned something downstairs about security. She said they’d make sure her necklace made it back to Westin’s, even if she didn’t. You’re telling me she doesn’t know?”
“No, and we need to keep it that way. I need you to agree to leave certain facts concerning the FBI’s involvement with Carmen out of your broadcast. You may be a material witness, and as such, may be useful in helping us to apprehend whoever is behind these robberies. If you agree to help, I may be able to help you fill in some information down the line. But not until then. Agreed?”
“And in the meantime?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure between the two of us, we can come up with something.” Eric looked towards the bedroom, then back at me, and winked. “Kind of a shame to let a beautiful room like this go to waste.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” I grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom. Between my house and Eric’s boat, this was probably one of the nicest rooms we’d ever been in. What harm could it be? A little romantic rendezvous between lovers.
It wasn’t until Eric’s cell phone buzzed an hour later that I knew we weren’t just hunting for a diamond thief anymore. He took the call and I watched as the color drained from his face.
He hung up and looked at me. “Carmen’s dead.”
Chapter 13
Eric walked ahead of me into the restaurant and disappeared. The room, which only a short while ago had been crowded with guests happily toasting one another, now looked deathly still. A low murmur encircled the room like fog. I pushed through the crowd toward the area where Mimi and her entourage had been partying.
“What happened?”
There was no answer. In the dim blue light, people stood like cardboard cutouts, their arms wrapped tightly around themselves, staring blankly at one another, uncertain what to say.
From behind Mimi and Bunny, I got my first glimpse of Carmen’s body. It was spread ungracefully across the end of the couch, her arms thrust outward, her legs crumpled beneath her as though she had suddenly fallen backward. Her head was cocked against the back of the sofa at an awkward angle, her mouth open like a fish gasping for air. I noticed Mr. Churchill next to her, adjusting her skirt. It had slipped above her pale white thighs, exposing a garter belt and lacy panties. Even in death, Churchill was doing what he could to protect his client.
I turned to Mimi and asked again, “What happened? I thought your escort was watching over her.”
Mimi shook her head, her mouth trying to form words, but there was no sound.
Bunny grabbed her arm. “It’s okay, dear, let me explain.” Bunny looked at me like she expected me to take notes. “We were talking and having drinks. Carmen had a question about tonight’s show and sent him away to find a program.”
“The server,” Mimi interrupted, her voice nearly cracking. Standing on her tiptoes she pointed towards the kitchen as though she were looking for someone. “He had just refreshed her drink. Then Carmen started to—”
“Choke,” Bunny said. She continued to hold Mimi’s hand while she described the scene. “Carmen grabbed her throat. It looked like she had swallowed the wrong way, like she was going to be sick. She started to wheeze and then cough all at the same time, like she couldn’t catch her breath. Finally, she just doubled over and fell back on the couch. Like she is now.”
“Mr. Churchill called 911, but I think it’s too late.” Mimi looked at me like she expected me to dispute the obvious.
I hadn’t seen many dead bodies in my career, but I had no doubt looking at Carmen she was gone. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, her face was slack and colorless, and her hands hung limply by her sides.
“And what about Carmen’s glass?” I asked. I looked around the floor beside the couch. If Carmen had been drinking champagne, there was no flute to be seen. Mimi and Bunny were still holding theirs. What happened to Carmen’s?
Both women looked at me and shook their heads.
“Who ordered the champagne?” I asked.
“I did,” Mimi answered. “We were all having such a good time, I ordered another round for the group. The server brought a tray and handed a glass to Carmen. You don’t suppose it was poison, do you?”
This was the second time Mimi mentioned the server. Her response seemed almost too convenient, and the fact she had mentioned poison even more so. I wouldn’t have put it past her to put something into Carmen’s drink. From what I knew about Mimi’s relationship with her sis
ter, she certainly may have had cause. But for the moment, her grief and surprise looked as real as the tears in her eyes.
I scanned the room for Eric. I needed to report this story, but before I did, I wanted one last word with him. I was about to leave when I saw him talking with a uniformed LAPD officer. I figured there must have been some need-to-know exchange between the two, because moments later, the officer blocked the front door and told us all we were on lockdown.
“I’m sorry, folks, we need to secure the area. Until we’ve had a chance to talk to everybody, nobody leaves.”
As the officer continued to explain LAPD plans for evacuation, Eric pulled me aside.
“I know you’re going to want to file a report with the radio station, but—”
“I know. There’s a lot I can’t mention. Starting with the fact the FBI was here tonight.”
“As far as anyone needs to know, the plainclothes guards here tonight were simply security, hired to make certain nobody made off with any of Henry Westin’s jewels.”
“I guess they did that much for sure.”
I pointed back at the body and then at Churchill. He was standing next to it like a sentry. Whoever had murdered Carmen hadn’t done it for her jewelry. Around her neck was the necklace she’d worn to the awards show earlier that evening, a stunning diamond ruby choker I estimated to be worth be several hundred thousand dollars.
Eric didn’t answer. Instead, he said we’d talk later. I watched him disappear back into the crowd and found an empty space in front one of the big plate glass windows overlooking the city. I took out my phone and called Tyler. If I hurried, I could call in the news of Carmen’s death before the station went dark for the evening. If I missed, I’d have to wait until morning to break the story. I didn’t want to do that. Even though the restaurant was on lockdown and nobody could leave until after police had spoken to them, everybody had cell phones. I didn’t want to risk news of Carmen’s death escaping the room before I had a chance to report it. I knew once news hit the street, it’d spread like a California wildfire.
Without a Doubt Page 8
