Cadaver at the Con

by Winnie Reed

  Somebody would clean up after me.

  The knock at the door was just about as effective as the ringing of a bell. Bells always made me look up, no matter where I was, thanks to years of hearing the bell over the café door.

  I looked up then, my heart taking off like a scared rabbit. “Yeah?”

  “Housekeeping,” Joe said, a chuckle in his voice.

  I smoothed my hair down and straightened my t-shirt out before opening the door.

  “Welcome,” I murmured, waving him in. Be cool, be cool. But he was in my room and yes, he was annoying, but he was handsome enough to take my breath away and leave me slightly sweaty. “Georgia should be here soon. She was just finishing getting ready for the day when I called.”

  He nodded, looking around. “Nice room.”

  “Yeah, it’s a decent hotel.”

  “Two beds.” He eyed me before sitting on the spare.

  “Uh, yeah. You didn’t think my editor would get me a king-sized bed all to myself, did you? I like to believe she likes me, but not that much.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot this was supposed to be a work event. Have you thought about your work for more than a few minutes this weekend?”

  I had to laugh at myself. “Not much. The sessions were all recorded, so I can always go back and watch. And I met an old friend of my editor, too, so I can say I was networking or whatever.”

  He grimaced. “Never something I was good at.”

  “I find that so hard to believe.” Another knock at the door which I assumed had to be Georgia. Just like that, the energy in the room changed. We both stiffened, exchanging a worried look.

  “It’ll be fine. I’m just gonna talk to her. And you’re here to make her feel safe.” He nodded toward the door. “Go ahead.”

  I went ahead.

  Georgia’s smile was wide and bright when she found me standing in the doorway.

  I shifted to the side.

  Her smile faded. “What is this?” she whispered, staring at Joe.

  “It’s okay.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he didn’t look threatening. He could do that, easily.

  Not right now, though. He was doing his best to look friendly, at ease.

  “The detective wanted to talk to you outside the police station, so you’d feel safer. Less pressured.”

  “You could’ve told me,” she muttered with a nasty look.

  “I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything. I just wanted to get you here. Believe me,” I added, leaning in, “I wouldn’t put you through this if I didn’t trust him.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but at least stepped into the room. Her eyes moved back and forth. “It’s the same as mine.”

  “Are you staying alone, too?” I asked. If I could make her feel better, less defensive, this would go a lot easier.

  “Yeah, my agent got the publisher to pay for a room of my own.”

  “Good agent,” I grinned. “Here, have a seat.” I pulled out the desk chair rather than guiding her to the other bed. If she sat with Joe right across from her, she might feel more threatened.

  “Hi, Georgia.” He flashed his best smile. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I thought this might go easier for you. There’s still a lot I would like to know.”

  “I already told you everything I’m at liberty to say.” She looked from him to me, eyes wide. “Honestly. I’m not holding anything back.”

  “Except for what you’re not allowed to tell me.” Just like that, there was tightness in Joe’s voice. A lot of it.

  “Why aren’t you allowed to say?” I asked instead, eyeing Joe. He was already too frustrated to do a good job with this. Too tired, too frustrated.

  “You can tell me,” I added as I sat at the end of the free bed, close to where she perched at the edge of the desk chair. “I know you don’t think you can, but you can.”

  “You don’t know anything,” she reminded me with a shaky smile, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “Did Lawrence Miller?” I ventured. “Did he know things he shouldn’t know?”

  “No,” she scoffed. “He didn’t know anything about me, not really. Maybe if he had—” Her mouth snapped shut, her cheeks flushing.

  Darn it. She was close to admitting something, wasn’t she? She caught herself just in time.

  “Maybe if he had what?” I pressed, eyeing Joe again. I wanted him to let me do this without sticking his nose into it. I needed it.

  “I can’t.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why? Do you have somebody pressuring you? Is somebody… blackmailing you? Or forcing you to do something you don’t want to do?”

  “No, nobody’s—it’s not like that. It’s not at all. Everything’s completely legal, completely normal. There’s nothing shady going on. But I’m honestly not allowed to say.”

  “You have a non-disclosure agreement.” Joe practically jumped off the bed. “Right? That’s it. You have an NDA with somebody, and you’re not allowed to talk about it.”

  Her lips parted and a tiny sigh escaped. I could practically feel the tension draining out of her.

  “That’s it? You signed an NDA?” I looked at Joe, sighing. “You’re allowed to say that, you know. You can’t reveal anything, but you can say there’s an NDA in place and that’s why you can’t give specifics. That’s okay.”

  “I don’t know any of that. Nobody ever told me that.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Joe turned around, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s all this is? Here I was, thinking you were being squeezed by this guy.”

  Except she was. She really was. Her face went chalky as she stared at the floor.

  Whatever she wasn’t allowed to talk about was something this Lawrence guy had managed to find out. That was why he harassed her. And she couldn’t say or do anything since she had an NDA in place.

  But with whom? And why?

  I wouldn’t be able to get that out of her, and I knew it. Instead of prying harder, I stood. “Okay. You have an NDA and you can’t talk about it. Lawrence found out something. That makes sense.”

  “No!” Her head snapped up when she said it—then, again, she caught herself. But it was too late this time. She’d already slipped.

  “It’s okay,” I mouthed, winking. Then, so Joe could hear, “I think that’s all we need to know.”

  “Hold on—” He turned, looking furious with me.

  “That’s all we need to know.” I put an arm around Georgia’s shoulders and walked with her to the door. “I’ll see you downstairs, lady. I can’t wait to see you at your signing. I’ll be first in line. I absolutely adore your book.”

  “You do?” Her face lit up, the color returning. “You’re not just saying that?”

  “Hon, I considered skipping dinner to keep reading last night, and that never happens. Trust.” I winked again, and she giggled as she started down the hall.

  Poor girl. She didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t blame her.

  “What was that all about?” Joe demanded once the door was closed.

  “Chill.” I held my hands up. “The walls are thin, you know.”

  “I don’t care about the walls. I don’t care what anybody hears. I care about you acting like you’re in charge of this investigation. I wasn’t finished with her.”

  “Yes, you were. You were finished with her before you even started.” I took a chance, taking him by the arms. Thick arms, strong. “You’re too tired. You’ve been working too hard before this even happened, haven’t you? You’ve been skipping sleep, pulling doubles, you’re burned out.”

  He sneered, eyes rolling. “I don’t need you to—”

  “Listen to me.” I shook him, which of course made no difference at all. He was built like a house. “You have to take a breath. Step back. I know we’re not super close. I don’t know much about your personal life. But I know burnout when I see it. You’re exhausted, you’re tense, you’re easily angered. You’re like a totally diff
erent person than you were just a little earlier. And that girl wasn’t responding well.”

  “You don’t know anything.” He shook me off. “Hands to yourself.”

  “Sorry,” I breathed, taking a step back. “I know what it’s like to be super frustrated, the way you are now. And I wanted her out of here so we can talk about what this NDA thing means.”

  He ran his hands through his hand, lacing his fingers behind his neck as he started pacing the room. “It means I’m screwed, unless she’s willing to risk getting sued. That’s what it means.”

  “It means she’s dealing with somebody who uses an NDA,” I added, watching as he stalked like a caged animal. “Who could that be? A business, an entity. Maybe even an individual, but let’s go big, first. Her publisher? Her agent, maybe? Whoever or whatever, Lawrence was able to find out about it. He was holding it over her head, whatever it was she wasn’t allowed to talk about. How could he have found out?”

  Joe took a few deep breaths before replying. “I don’t know.”

  “He didn’t have a formal job. It’s not like he found out through work.” I sat on the bed, staring out the window while my mind raced. “So he found out through what he did. Writing. Trolling online. It has something to do with writing, obviously. But what?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “Because you’re so tired.”

  “Do you know how many interviews I’ve conducted? How many interviews I’ve had to go through that my team conducted? How many hundreds of people there are at the hotel right now?” He turned to look at me. “How many people think they know something? How many theories?”

  “Yeah, that much I can imagine,” I groaned, remembering how many theories and whispers I’d already heard.

  “And we’re not anywhere near finished. I’m about ready to chalk this up to somebody who ran off once they realized what they’d done. I’ve been on the force for twelve years and never once have I had this impulse.”

  “It’s very tangled and murky, I know. I just want to help.”

  He sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. “I know.”

  “I can keep trying to pry something out of her,” I suggested.

  “You don’t have to do anything. This isn’t your job, not your responsibility.”

  Yes, but now I wanted to help him, too. Not just Georgia. “You need all the help you can get, Detective.” I smirked. “Just accept it when somebody tries to offer.”

  “If your theory is on the money and whoever did this is still around, they could get pretty desperate. Dangerously so.” He frowned, nostrils flaring, jaw twitching. “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I,” I admitted, shrugging. “But it’s Georgia I’m focusing on. I doubt she could do any damage.”

  “She might’ve done a lot of damage already,” he reminded me.

  “You don’t believe that, do you? Real talk. You don’t think she’s capable of this any more than I do. Admit it.”

  There went that poker face again. I wished he wasn’t such a tough nut to crack.

  “I don’t know, and neither do you. Okay? Keep that in mind. Always. Don’t underestimate anybody. I’ve seen how easy it is for good people, people who never did a single even slightly questionable thing in their lives, to make one massive mistake. That’s all it takes. One mistake, one moment of losing their head. Only once they know they have something to hide do they become truly dangerous. Are you hearing me?”

  “I hear you.” I nodded, to show him that I got it.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very.” I kept myself from calling him Dad, but just barely. I couldn’t fault the guy for caring. And I knew that was where this was coming from. Not the impulse to tell me what to do or be the boss. He was only concerned.

  Well, friends were concerned for each other. That was what friends did, they looked out for each other. Like the way I wanted to look out for him.

  As a friend.

  Nothing more.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The ballroom had been transformed again. This time, instead of rows of chairs, it was chock full of tables with banners, book displays, balloons. Anything an author could come up with to decorate their table, they’d gone all-in.

  The excitement in the room was palpable, and the positive vibes were a pleasant change. For once, there wasn’t a bunch of hushed whispering, muttering, speaking behind hands.

  Had people already started to forget? Maybe in our continuous news cycle world, few people had the attention span anymore to care for longer than a day about anything that didn’t directly affect them.

  It made me a little sad. How many people died, or were killed or whatever, and nobody cared much after a day or two? Sure, people had to get on with their lives.

  What happened when there was nobody to remember? Like in Lawrence’s case. Would anybody notice his absence from the forums and imagine the worst? Would they even care enough to think about it? Or would his lack of activity be a blessing?

  Maybe Trixie was right, and I was thinking about it too much. I was letting it get me down.

  A little searching told me Georgia sat along the far wall, right around the middle. The banner and balloons matched the blue on her book’s cover. Gorgeous and eye-catching. Multiple copies of her book were stacked on the table for anyone who wanted to pick up a new read.

  A pair of women passed me just then, and I pointed to the table. “That book, written by Georgia Steel, is a knockout. I couldn’t stop reading it.” They exchanged a look, shrugged and walked over. That was two copies, I hoped.

  Though she couldn’t have been doing too badly, judging by the quality of her table and decorations. I trailed behind another group of women, waiting as Georgia spoke to them and accepted their congratulations. She signed their books with a flourish.

  Whatever she’d been in the grip of in my room, it was over. Probably because Joe was nowhere near her.

  She only flinched a tiny bit when she saw me. I held my hands up. “Just here as a fan.”

  “I can’t believe anybody would want me to sign a book for them,” she admitted with a shaky little laugh that sounded more like a gasp.

  “I can. You’re awesome.”

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” she whispered, looking back and forth in case we were overheard.

  “No worries. We surprised you. I was afraid if I warned you, you wouldn’t come. I wish you felt like you could talk to me.”

  “Me, too,” she replied with a slight smile. “But I can’t. Besides—”

  “Now’s not the time,” I nodded. “I get it. Of course. Enjoy yourself today.” I slid my copy of her book across the table for her to sign.

  “Oh, so you’ve met my latest and greatest find!” I turned in surprise at the sound of Brian Murphy’s voice. He looked just as resplendent as he had when we first met, this neckerchief a shade of blue that just about matched the balloons, the banner, the book.

  My mouth fell open. “You’re Georgia’s agent?”

  “I certainly am. The editing field was a bit more than I could manage after a while,” he explained. “I decided I wanted to spend my precious time helping talent find their place to shine. And land nice, juicy book deals.” If a wink could be described as delicious, his fit the bill.

  “That’s fantastic. I’ll be sure to tell Marsha how successful your latest client is,” I winked back, and we shared a laugh.

  “Not that Georgia Steel is my only success. And I believe Miss Marsha knows very well how my clients have done. Don’t let her fool you. She follows along with me just as I follow her. She’s bound to know that I’m the agent who was smart enough to sign Deidre Price.”

  Again, there went my mouth. Good thing I wasn’t outside, where a fly might buzz in. Or where a seagull might fly in, seeing as how my jaw was nearly on the floor and there was plenty of room. “You’re Deidre’s agent? I had no idea! Though I have to admit, I don’t know as much about her as most of the people here seem
to.”

  “Oh, my dear!” He looked downright aghast. “She’s my ultimate creation. Though Georgia here is poised to surpass her. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  He chuckled. “Until she hits the big time, in which case you’re free to announce far and wide that I predicted her success.”

  Lucky girl! “How’s the deal you brokered for Georgia? If it’s not too much to ask?”

  “A significant deal. That’s all I’m at liberty to say.” I had no idea what that meant, but the way he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips told me it was special.

  Very lucky girl, indeed.

  Was that what the NDA was about? Nah. What would be the purpose of that? There had to be something deeper. Could I ask Brian?

  Could I trust him?

  I pulled him aside, just slightly, and when I did I remembered how eager he was to start up the conversation about the dead body in the pool. How much did he know?

  “Did Georgia tell you anything about being harassed by the guy who died?” I whispered, keeping an eye on her at all times. She was so happy. Radiant.

  He sputtered. “Did she tell you?”

  “I was there. We were in line together at the front desk. That’s how we met.” I held up my copy of her book. “She gave this to me for free to thank me. I hope that’s okay.”

  He didn’t find my little joke very funny. Well, it wasn’t all that funny. But I hoped to ease up the tension that was now written on his otherwise very smooth face. I couldn’t help but wonder if he used the same treatments he accused Marsha of using.

  “Whoever that man was, he had the wrong idea about Georgia. She isn’t who he thought she is.”

  “Who did he think she is?” I whispered, my palms going slick at the thought of being so close to something. Anything. It would be so nice to stop hitting my head against a brick wall.

  He waved a hand, huffing. “He accused her of plagiarism. Can you imagine? Plagiarism? Her?”

  “No way! Who did he think—”

  “That’s all I can say,” he shrugged. “I’m sorry. But now you know why you saw what you saw. And I thank you for stepping in to shoo him away before things escalated any further. I know Georgia appreciated it very much.”