by Gina LaManna
“I knew the PR team used models for the photoshoots. I was not aware of the details.”
“When did you become aware that Dane’s relationship with Andrea wasn’t over?” Detective Ross asked pointedly.
“It wasn’t a relationship—” Dane growled, but he was cut off by the detective.
“Their business relationship, then,” Ross continued. “Did you meet her in person ever?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat, wishing I could avoid what I had to say next. The situation almost implicated me on its own. “I met her the morning she was killed.”
Detective Plane sat back in his chair, the look on his face one of satisfaction. As if that was the end of the story. “Give me a second, Lola.” He ran a hand over his face, as if deep in thought. It was clearly an act. “You get hired on at Clark Company. You develop feelings for Dane, which may or may not be reciprocated.”
“They are reciprocated in full,” Dane said through his teeth. “There was never any question about my feelings for Lola or my lack of feelings for Andrea.”
“Then out of the blue, you discover that Dane is still seeing Andrea for whatever purpose,” Plane continued without pause. “And your world spins a little out of control. We know she was here for a photoshoot the morning of her murder and stuck around afterward to look at the photos.”
Dane nodded in confirmation to the latter.
“Did Andrea perhaps wander upstairs after?” Detective Plane asked, theorizing more than asking. “Did you get a little out of control seeing Andrea with ‘your man’?”
I could feel my blood pressure skyrocket at the air quotes the detective used, and I could sense the rush of blood through Dane’s veins, the wild pounding of his heart, though I couldn’t hear it over my own.
“No,” I said tersely. “That’s not at all what happened. You’re completely wrong.”
“Maybe you didn’t mean to do it,” Detective Plane said. “It could have been an accident, Lola. We’ve seen that before. We understand crimes of passion—they’re just that. Filled with passion.”
“I had no more passion toward Andrea than I do to the cracker on that plate,” I said, nodding toward it. “She meant nothing to me or Dane.”
“But getting her out of the way could only help matters, right?” Detective Plane pressed. “Speed the marriage process along? I’m curious to know if you wanted to be Mrs. Clark first and foremost, or whether you are after Dane’s money. Would you have eventually killed him too? Another blow to the head, or maybe this time you’d have gone with a simpler way?”
“Did Dane help you move the body, Lola?” Detective Ross asked. “Dane, if she coerced you into helping her, this doesn’t have to end you. We can cut you a deal and—”
“Get out of my house.” Dane stood. “You came here on a bullshit tip. You have nothing on us. Unless you’re planning to arrest us—and if you do, my lawyers will shred your theories to bits—you’ll leave. And while you’re at it, I would highly recommend checking into the Rickers’s finances while you’re on the subject of inheriting money. It seems they’ve had quite a windfall since their daughter’s demise.”
Detective Plane was much better at hiding his surprise than Detective Ross. The latter’s mouth parted and he looked dumbfounded at his partner. Plane frowned and moved along quickly.
“One last question.” Plane held up a finger and looked, for the first time, directly into my eyes. “Where were you on the night of Andrea Ricker’s murder, Miss Pink?”
I remembered with vague horror the ding of the microwave as my stupid burrito spun to a stop. “I was at home,” I said, struggling to speak clearly. “Alone.”
AFTER MRS. DULCET SHOWED the detectives out and slammed the door behind them, Dane wrapped me in his arms, holding me to his chest in a breath-stealing squeeze.
“I am so sorry, Lola.” He murmured soothing words against my hair, his fingers pressing hard against me. “If I’d never shown up at your doorstep, you wouldn’t be in this situation at all.”
“Dane...” I pulled back slightly, having taken a few moments to gather my breath, the shattered pieces of my confidence, and pull together one last march. “Wait. There’s something I need to know.”
He looked at me, his gaze rightfully curious. “Yes. Anything.”
“You haven’t yet asked me if I did it,” I said, my voice hoarse. I hated to even speak in such a way, but it needed to be said. “For all you know, I could have. I was home alone. You had to know I was a little jealous of her.”
“I didn’t pick up on that until you told me. I explained you had no reason to be jealous, and I thought you believed me.”
“I do believe you, but I did have strong feelings for you, and I still do. Why didn’t you ask me if I murdered her, or even killed her on accident?”
“Because...” Dane stopped, considering. He bit his lip in thought, taking a long moment to consider my question. Then a light behind his eyes flicked on, one that lightened the dead stare the detectives had brought out in him. “Because,” he said gently. “I just know. I know you, Lola—and just like you believe in me, I believe in you. I know you would never hurt a butterfly, let alone a human being.”
“And the stuff he said about the two of us—” I cleared my throat—“the two of us getting married? You believe that I don’t want to be with you for your money?”
“Oh, Lola.” He pushed the hair back from my face, and to my surprise, an amused smile appeared on his lips. “There are far easier ways to become rich than marrying me.”
I couldn’t help it; I let my head fall forward against his chest, relief flooding out of me. The laugh that bubbled up inside me came swift and hysterical, and it was with a mixture of tears and hiccupy giggles that I let the fear and horror of the last half hour wash away.
“I’m sorry,” I said, hiccupping loudly as I wiped my eyes on his shirt. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I held it together in front of the detectives, but now you get to see the broken version I guess. I’m not quite working properly yet.”
Dane pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re not broken, Lola, not in the slightest. You’re mine—however you are. Whatever comes your way, from here on out, comes our way.”
I let my had find his, our fingers locking together. “You and me, huh?” I sniffed. “Together?” When he nodded, I gave a watery smile. “What a relief.”
He laughed and held me closer. “I hate to say it, but I think we need to put an end to this. I can’t stand to see you this upset. Let me call my lawyers; I’ll have them investigate, and we can find out who did this. We can move on, and Andrea will have justice.”
“It’s such a shame,” I said, shaking my head. “No one deserves to die like that.”
“I just don’t understand why they’re still looking at us.” Frustrated, Dane ran a hand through his hair. “Between the trust fund, her modeling jobs, her ex-boyfriends, and a potential mystery man here at the castle, there are any number of suspects who had more motivation to kill her than either of us.”
“Maybe it’s someone we haven’t even looked at, yet. She could’ve asked the wrong person to squeeze her new chest, for all we know.” I leaned heavily on the sarcasm. “Any number of people could have killed her, but instead the cops are determined to find a motive where there isn’t one.”
“I’m sorry they brought you into this, Lola. They wouldn’t be looking at you if it weren’t for me.”
“Hold on, Dane—I might have an idea,” I said, brushing away his worry with a squeeze to his leg. “Do you remember this morning when I had errands to run?”
Dane nodded. I filled him in on my findings with Regina and Leslie Gray, and my theories on Leslie having an accomplice.
“You think if we can find Leslie Gray’s boyfriend,” Dane said, “we might find our murderous pair?”
“It’s a long shot,” I said. “But it’s something.”
“Something is better than nothing,” he said. “Let me call Gerar
d to get a car. We’ll begin at once.”
Chapter 25
WORKING SIDE BY SIDE with Dane had its advantages. First, he had a zillion sets of wheels to choose from, and none of them required power by human pedaling. Besides having transportation, he also had a way with computers as well as plenty of connections, which spared us from having to get a perm in exchange for Leslie’s address.
The supermodel lived in a wealthy little suburb halfway between the city and us—a place where folks with flexible schedules and bulging bank accounts built looming mansions next to shiny modern ramblers, the neighborhood all sharp edges and odd angles. She could easily commute to the city for any of her fashion gigs, and then return home to the privacy and security of her exclusive neighborhood.
As we quietly pulled into the gated community, I glanced at the clock and noted it’d taken us half an hour to drive here from the castle. Dane smelled rich enough that the security guard at the front didn’t bat an eye, despite it being an unfamiliar vehicle and driver.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d have gotten in here on two wheels,” I said, watching sidewalks disappear as they gave way to narrow roads pierced by entrances to long, windy driveways twisting into the darkness. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Thanks for coming with me,” Dane corrected. “We’re in this together. I wish you weren’t involved, but unfortunately, I don’t think there’ll be much separating us from here on out.”
“Does that mean we’re really fiancés?” I asked him. “Are we doing this?”
Dane stared straight ahead, then shifted in discomfort. “Well—”
“I totally understand if you want to back out. If you’re at all unsure, say the word now. It’ll be easier than if we start telling people, and—”
“I told you I’m sure, Lola, and I meant it. My only hesitation is...” Dane’s eyebrows cinched together as he pulled to the side of the road a few houses down from Leslie’s address. “I don’t have a ring, yet.”
I felt a smile grow on my face as he turned to look at me, his eyes hooded by darkness, his hair lightened by the glow of moonlight. “That’s it? That’s your only hesitation?”
“It’s a big one. You deserve a grand, sweeping proposal like in all of the movies you’ve shown me.” Dane swept his hand dramatically across the car, the movement making my smile shine brighter. “You deserve flowers and a ring and fine wine and fancy dinners. It’s not fair to just...I don’t know, talk about it. I’m so unromantic.”
“You are not!” I squeezed his hand tighter. “The romance is in the little things. The way you stood up for me in front of your parents when I was nothing more than your assistant. The way you tease me for eating sweets, but you make sure there are always plenty for me on hand. The way you talk to me and tell me you love me. All of that is romantic.”
“Lola, Lola,” he says, shaking his head. “You still don’t understand. You’ve never been ‘only my assistant’. Since the day I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted more. I just never knew how to show it.”
I could see my arguments weren’t helping much, so I laid off and tried a new route. “How about this? We’re not fiancés yet. We’re not engaged—”
“But we’re a couple? We are dating, right?”
“Sure, I’d like that.” I drank in the bright gaze of my boyfriend and sighed with the weight of it. It was perfect. “Take a few weeks to think about us—take months if you need, or longer. When you’re ready, you can do a grand sweeping proposal if you’d like.”
His eyebrows knitted together, and my heart fluttered.
“But you don’t have to, Dane—I like simple,” I said. “I’m simple.”
Dane began to respond, but at that moment, a car pulled out of the driveway next to the address marked with Leslie Gray’s number. It was a sporty little Miata, a quick, cute little thing that had Leslie’s name written all over it. Literally—her license plate said: LESLIE on it and was surrounded by a frame of sparkly diamonds.
“Conversation to be continued,” I declared. “Or not—either way, follow her.”
Dane Clark followed her at a distance, well enough that I wondered if he’d followed someone before, or if he’d merely read enough crime thrillers. Then, I remembered that Dane Clark didn’t read much fiction outside of the classics.
At my frown, he gave a grin. “Ever since you got me hooked on movies, I’ve been dabbling in television while I do my running on the treadmill. I picked up a few tricks of the trade from crime shows.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you’re running while watching. Sometime you should just plop your butt on the couch, grab a bag of Doritos, and pop on an action flick. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He didn’t look convinced, but then again, he was focused on driving. We didn’t have to follow Leslie far; she drove in the direction of the Sunshine Shore, pulling into a community located on a higher cliff than most of the surrounding area. This space tended to draw retired folks with old money. The houses here weren’t splashy, but they were grand in their own way, and sturdy. Many were over a century old with nifty little additions and meticulous upkeep.
Leslie parked in front of one house with a particularly glamorous view of the ocean. I expected Dane to pull over and tuck his car behind one of several others on the street, but he never stopped. He kept right on driving past Leslie, and I ducked under the window, though she didn’t appear to glance our way.
“What are you thinking?” I hissed. “Where are you going?”
Dane shook his head, mystified. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand? We have to go back. That’s probably her boyfriend’s house. We need to find out who he is—maybe he’s the one who helped Leslie get rid of the body.”
“I know who lives there.” Dane Clark leveled his gaze at me as he finally brought the car to a stop on the side of the road, several twists away from Leslie’s vehicle. “That house belongs to my Uncle Anders.”
“WE DON’T KNOW HE’S involved,” I said. “Maybe she’s here for a different reason. We don’t know they’re dating at all. What’s your uncle like?”
After a few moments of stunned silence, I’d convinced Dane to drive back around for a second pass at the house. We were just approaching when the front door opened and Leslie stormed out, her purse swinging violently on one arm and the end of a word on her lips that couldn’t be anything pleasant.
Dane jerked the car to a stop, and thankfully, Leslie was too steamed to notice anything out of the ordinary. She got back in her car and was speeding off, probably toward home, before either of us could react.
Dane shook his head, still mystified.
“Dane,” I said gently. “We don’t know your uncle is involved. Tell me what he’s like.”
“He...” Dane tilted his head to the side. “He’s never been married, no children. He’s my dad’s younger brother, but to my knowledge he’s never been jealous of the rest of the family. He owns his own real estate business that provides him with a generous living. To me, he’s always been a good uncle. Gave me cards with money on birthdays, showed up for holiday dinners, no drama.”
“Does he—did he—ever bring someone along? A date?”
“Once or twice, but it was a while ago,” Dane said thoughtfully. “I always did wonder why he didn’t date more. He’s got a lot going for him, and when he was attached to someone, it was always a young, attractive woman. I guess nothing ever stuck for him. In fact, I suspected I might end up like him, and frankly, I didn’t think it would be all bad. He was always a pleasant enough family member, which is more than most people can say about me.”
“Stop that,” I said with a firm shake of my head. “You’re plenty pleasant.”
Dane gave a weak smile. “I know what you haven’t asked yet. Is he capable of it? Murdering her?”
I didn’t react, just let Dane muse on his own question.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I don’t kno
w him well enough. He was always around, but he didn’t talk much. Maybe that’s why I liked him so much.”
“Do you think we should go inside?” I asked. “If he’s truly a nice guy, don’t you think he’d have an explanation for us?”
“Do you like being questioned about murder?” Dane retorted. “Sorry, but I don’t think he’d take kindly to being suspected by his nephew even if he’s innocent.”
I gave him that point. “What if we just swung by to say hello? Heck, you could introduce him to your new girlfriend—say you wanted him to hear about it in person before reporters splashed it across the papers.”
Dane tilted his face toward the sky, the glow of light giving his features a sharp, almost supernatural glow, as he considered. “As it turns out, I don’t think we have a choice.”
“What do you—” I turned my head just in time to catch sight of the man waving from the front steps. “Uh, oh.”
Anders hopped down the last step, dropping his waving arm as he picked his way easily over the sidewalk. Strong build, tall figure, limber enough—I hated to think so pessimistically, but I’d come to the snap judgment that physically, he could do it.
He could have worked with Leslie to get rid of the body. Between the two of them, it would’ve been a simple matter to load Andrea into the car and drop her on the side of the road. My inhalation was sharp when I realized one other fact: As a member of the Clark family, Anders had mostly unrestricted access to the castle.
“Dane,” I whispered urgently. “Did your uncle come by the castle for any reason recently—maybe when you weren’t around?”
Dane pursed his lips. “He stopped by to discuss an investment opportunity not long ago. He was only there for a minute.”
“Were you in your office the whole time with him?”
Dane glanced my way, reading the question in my eyes even as Anders reached the car and stood expectantly outside. Dane gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head as his eyes glowered with new understanding.
