by K. B. Draper
“No.”
“Fine. So, are we going to go talk to Lydia?”
“Paperwork now, then we can interview Lydia tomorrow. Plus, I want to talk to the O’Connellys, as well.”
Kanyon pulled away from the curb. “Back to the office?”
“Back to the office.”
Chapter 12
“Are we going to start every morning like this?” Kanyon asked as Daylen jogged up the steps to Blue’s apartment.
“Pretty much.”
“I thought we talked about this.” Kanyon followed Daylen through the unsecured entry door and began climbing the stairs. “I don’t need a disguise.”
Daylen stopped on the landing. “Funny, I also thought we talked about this and I think the conversation went something like, and I’m paraphrasing …” She tapped a finger to her chin pretending to think, then used the same finger to poke Kanyon in the chest. “Deal with it.” She turned and continued up the stairs.
Kanyon performed a well-executed fit, a’la old-school Nellie Oleson. “Deal with it? Deeeeal with it?” She stomped her foot. “I’ll show you deal with it. I’ll let Blue turn me into a … into a …” She stomped a second foot, but let the fit die when Daylen gave her a ‘not amused’ eyebrow lift.
“Stop complaining or you’ll walk out of here looking like a gargoyle with an acne problem.”
Daylen knocked on Blue’s door. She could hear Blue grumbling before the door even opened. “Is making my life a living hell part of the godmother’s job description?”
Daylen smiled widely. “Yes. Paragraph two, line three, just under ‘Embarrass godchild at every available opportunity’ and right before ‘Offer frequent and highly opinionated how-you-should-live-your-life advice at any given moment’.”
Blue scoffed and opened the door wider.
“I told Daylen this was cruel and unusual punishment, but she wouldn’t listen to me so I brought you coffee to help ease the pain.” Kanyon handed her a large cup as she entered the apartment. Blue gave her a small nod to convey her reluctant appreciation as Daylen glared at Kanyon, knowing she’d been the one who insisted on going out of their way to stop at Blue’s favorite coffeehouse.
Kanyon smiled as she moved toward Blue’s workbench to appreciate the mask she’d been working on during their previous visit. The mask was complex and the details were amazingly lifelike. She leaned in to see the painted intricate scales meticulously inlayed over the entire mask. “Blue this is … I mean I knew you were good but,” she turned back to the mask, “this is truly amazing.”
Blue’s indignant facade dropped briefly to show a sense of pride and youthful vulnerability. “Thanks.” She shrugged then walked over to stand next to Kanyon.
“Seriously, Blue, it’s a masterpiece. You’re very talented.”
Blue, with her low tolerance for compliments, quickly resorted to her more comfortable annoyed disposition. “Okay, ease up Sporty Spice. Enough with the crushin’ ‘cause you’re soooo not my type.”
Kanyon put her hand over her heart and acted crestfallen. “Oh, how shall my heart recover? And I already had a song picked out for us.”
Blue made a show of rolling her eyes, but couldn’t quite keep the chuckle from escaping her throat. “Whatever. What do you need now?”
Kanyon sat on the stool. “I was thinking a Kate Beckinsale, Underworld kind of thing.”
Daylen broke in. “Ah, no.”
“What?” Kanyon asked, all too innocently.
“Not much of a disguise. You’re already dark-haired, blue-eyed, and …” she was going to say beautiful but thought better of it, “all kick-ass like.”
“Kick-ass like?” she repeated with a satisfied grin.
Daylen waved her off. “You know what I mean.”
“I was shooting for kick-ass like, only in leather.” Kanyon spun slightly. “Blue, what do you think? Fangs or no fangs?”
“Duh,” Blue huffed.
“Right, fangs. Just don’t make them too long. I’m thinking subtle, but can you make them strong enough if I suddenly found myself wanting to bite into someone’s–”
“No Underworld!” Daylen exclaimed, flustered by the visual that was now headlining in her mind.
“… apple,” Kanyon finished. She watched for a long moment, enjoying Daylen’s discomfort and smiled. “Can I at least have a long leather duster?”
More images flooded Daylen’s mind. “NO!”
Kanyon turned to Blue, hitching a thumb back at Daylen. “Lame-ville, population one.”
“Totally. She voted herself Mayor and passed ordinances for no fun zones.” Blue crossed her arms and leaned against her workbench facing Daylen, all too eager to join the “Gang Up on Daylen” parade.
“Hired herself as police chief and writes herself tickets for exceeding the fun limit.”
“Lives on the corner of Bor and Ing Streets, next to Uptight Park.”
“Opened a lingerie store, but only sells panties that are in a bunch.”
“Okay, very funny,” Daylen interrupted. “Why do I even try? If you want to walk the streets of L.A. all vamped out, go for it. Do whatever you want. I have some phone calls to make.” She turned to the door.
“Whatttteeeevvver, I want?” Kanyon called out.
“Whatever,” Daylen replied over her shoulder.
“Leather wearing vampire slayer?” Kanyon asked.
“Fine.”
“Slutty lounge singer alien chick?” Blue asked.
“Sure.”
“Xena with full leather and metal breast plate?” Kanyon egged.
“Have at it.” Daylen shrugged a disinterested shoulder.
“Blue Avatar lady?” Blue threw out.
Phone to her ear, Daylen turned to the comedic duo. “That’d be fabulous, just hurry up. I’ll be waiting in the car.” Blue and Kanyon high-fived. Oh Christ, what have I just done? Daylen thought as she swore she heard “mixed with Tomb Raider” before she closed the door.
Twenty minutes later Kanyon crawled into the car. Daylen eyed her suspiciously. “You look like …” she examined Kanyon again, “… you. I thought we had a deal?”
“Last thing I heard was I could do whatever I wanted. I wanted to be Kanyon McKane, movie star on a break, but …” Kanyon rolled up her sleeve to expose her left bicep, which had been turned into a flesh canvas, “with a new tattoo.”
“The Charlie’s Angels logo?” Daylen slapped her hand across her forehead. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. But see, it’s you and me. And since we needed a third person, Blue drew herself in there.”
“Get back up there and get a disguise.”
“Are you saying you don’t like it?” Kanyon teased.
“Disguise!” Daylen pointed to the building.
“Geez … Guess when I was gone you promoted yourself to Dull-dom County Commissioner,” Kanyon said as she got back out of the car.
“Don’t come back until she does something visible to your face and hair, minimum,” Daylen yelled out the window after her.
Daylen was just hanging up from another call when Kanyon dropped back into the driver’s seat. “Ah, I thought I said you needed to disguise your face and hair?”
Kanyon twisted in her seat so she could face Daylen. “Actually, I believe your exact words were, do something visible to your face and hair. My hair is in a ponytail and Blue added a freckle on my cheek.” Kanyon turned and pointed to her cheekbone.
“You think that qualifies as a disguise?”
“I believe a freckle and ponytail meets your specifications. And I’m still thinking about the black leather duster,” Kanyon taunted.
“Why exactly did it take you twenty-five minutes for a ponytail and a freckle?”
“The ponytail and freckle took two seconds. It took her twenty minutes to draw me a new tattoo.” She lifted her sleeve again to expose the new tattoo, which replaced the Charlie’s Angel rendering.
Daylen stared in disbelief. “Captain Poopypants? Rea
lly?” She scowled.
“What?” Kanyon looked down at the cartoon figure of Daylen in a Superman-like pose and outfit with a big P on the middle of her chest and the banner depicting her new superhero name. “What, you don’t like it?”
Daylen slugged Kanyon in her new tattoo as a response.
“Hey, the paint isn’t completely dry yet.”
“I’d so be dragging you back up to Blue’s right now if we weren’t late meeting with Mrs. O’Connelly.”
Kanyon started the car with a satisfied grin.
“Stop smiling, we’re in a fight.”
“Whatever you say, Captain.”
They pulled up to the intercom at the gated entrance of the O’Connellys’ mansion. They were granted access and directed to park in front of the house.
A young, big-eyed, big-boobed, small-waisted, attractive-ish, (if you’re in to that kind of thing), brunette, was standing on the front stairs as Kanyon parked. Daylen unfastened her seatbelt. “I’m going to bet that’s Lydia.”
“Can someone say bim to the bo?” Kanyon added.
Daylen chuckled. “Can you please behave?”
“Yes, I can, actually. But it really comes down to if I choose to behave or not.” Kanyon opened her door.
“Let’s choose to, please,” Daylen mumbled as they met in front of the car and walked toward Lydia. “Hello, I’m Daylen and this is–”
“Kanyon McKane!” Lydia supplied. “I’m a huge fan …” she looked back to Daylen, “of both of you. I’m Lydia. I couldn’t believe it when Mrs. O’Connelly told me we were expecting you.” She shook both of their hands vigorously then led them into the house. “You know, I came out here to be an actress too, but only got a couple of small walk on parts and a couple of gigs as a model at the car shows. But it couldn’t pay the bills so …”
“Shocking,” Kanyon said under her breath, earning a backhand across the arm from Daylen.
“It’s a difficult business to break into,” Daylen offered.
“Yeah. Mrs. O’Connelly said she’d be a minute. Make yourselves comfortable in here.” She waved toward a room just off the foyer. “Can I get you anything to drink? A snack?”
“No thanks, but you could keep us company while we wait. Maybe you could answer some questions?” Daylen asked.
Kanyon watched as the smile from Lydia’s oh-so-helpful demeanor faltered.
Lydia quickly recovered. “I don’t, I don’t know what I could tell you, really.”
Kanyon moved closer to Daylen, testing a theory that this was just about the time Daylen would get one of her suspicious bouts of “lightheadedness.”
Daylen met Lydia’s eyes and swayed slightly as the emotions of guilt and fear hit her like a burst of wind.
Kanyon saw the slight imbalance in Daylen’s posture and put a stabilizing hand on her shoulder. She stepped forward slightly, instinctually blocking Daylen from the unseen threat. “Oh, I bet you know more than you think,” Kanyon instigated, giving Daylen a moment to collect herself. “Why don’t we just sit and chat for a minute? I’m sure you want to do whatever you can to help the O’Connellys get their ring back. Right?” Kanyon said, smiling as she guided Daylen to the chairs arranged in a conversational setting only a few feet away.
“Well, yes. Yes. Of course, I want to help.” Lydia stumbled reluctantly, taking a seat.
Refocused, Daylen blinked a couple times, gave Kanyon a quick, I’m okay nod, and took out her notebook. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate any help you can give us. How long have you worked for the O’Connellys?”
“Just about three months.”
“And what does your job entail? What all do you do for them?”
“Well, I’m kind of their personal assistant; more so for Mrs. O’Connelly than Mr. O’Connelly. He has an assistant at work, but I handle more of the household and personal things for them. I help Mrs. O’Connelly manage the house, organize events and luncheons, those sorts of things. She’s on several charitable boards and committees so she has a lot of meetings and events here and other places. I help organize and plan those events and run personal errands for her.”
“Sounds like a much different career path than acting. How’d you get into this line of work?” Daylen asked as she felt Lydia’s emotions rise again, even more powerful than before. Daylen, more prepared this time, fortified herself against the wave of anxiety, fear, and guilt.
“I was working for a gentleman who put in a good word for me with the O’Connellys.”
Lydia’s emotions were like a tidal wave and Daylen knew they were homing in on an intricate piece of the puzzle. Daylen pushed against the back of the chair trying to distance herself as much as possible as she gave Lydia a reassuring smile, in hopes Lydia would relax. Lydia was an emotional basket case.
“It’s always good to know someone who knows someone,” Daylen began, then paused as she took in Lydia’s emotions. She lowered her head, pretending to review her notes as the hatred, fear, and love threatened to consume her. Then as quickly as the attack emerged, it faded. She blinked to clear her vision and found Kanyon sitting on the chair’s armrest, the comforting heat of a hand on her shoulder.
“Who’s the guy that got you this gig?” Kanyon asked.
Lydia was visibly shaken. “He is, he …” she stuttered.
Kanyon raised a knowing eyebrow. “Come on, Lydia. Who was it? Who got you this job?”
“He’s just a guy. I don’t see why this is important,” Lydia said, stiffing her back and trying to put up a resolute front.
Kanyon left Daylen’s side to walk over to Lydia. “It might not be, but you are kind of making it sound like it’s important by not wanting to tell us. So now I’m just curious.” Kanyon bent down to meet her at eye level. “Did you sleep with him before or after he helped you out?”
Lydia’s eyes darted from Kanyon to Daylen. “I … That’s not … I don’t have to tell you that.”
Kanyon smirked as she stood back up. “You’re right. You don’t have to tell us, ‘cause you just did. We can get the name from Mrs. O’Connelly.”
Lydia bolted from her chair. “I didn’t say anything!”
“Okay.” Kanyon shrugged.
Lydia advanced on Kanyon, but stopped suddenly when she heard the distinctive clicking of high heels coming in their direction. She spun and watched as Mrs. O’Connelly came into the room.
“Hello. I’m so sorry I’m late; luncheon crisis. Apparently, there’s some new fad diet this week and no one’s eating anything red or something utterly ridiculous.” She waved a frustrated hand. “I swear, if they’d simply walk as long as they ran their mouths, they wouldn’t have to diet.”
The woman was classically beautiful with short gray hair atop a tall, lean frame. She wore a friendly smile and Kanyon could tell she wasn’t nor had she ever been a plastic, bubble-headed society wife. This woman carried intelligence and pride in her pale green eyes.
Daylen stood to meet her. “Mrs. O’Connelly, so nice to see you again.”
“Daylen, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Carol?” She walked to Daylen and embraced her warmly then released her and turned to Kanyon. “And you must be the infamous Kanyon McKane.” She winked at Kanyon playfully and held out a welcoming hand. “I’m Carol. I know your mother, Katherine. She is simply an amazing woman. I enjoy her thoroughly.” She linked arms with Kanyon and walked her to a loveseat. “If you ever have some time, ohhh, the stories I could tell you. We used to run around the town together when we were younger.”
“I’d love to hear them. I’m running out of and then my mother … stories to tell my therapist.” Kanyon grinned.
Carol laughed, patting Kanyon’s arm. “Well then, I can definitely give you several sessions worth.” Carol turned to Lydia who was still lingering. “Lydia dear, did you offer our guests something to drink? Eat?”
Kanyon couldn’t help but push Lydia even more. “She did and we declined, thank you. Lydia was also very helpful in giving us
some very valuable information.” Kanyon added a knowing smile at Lydia who was visibly shaken by Kanyon’s answer.
An hour later, Daylen and Kanyon waved good-bye to Carol and got back into their vehicle. “Jonathan V. Defalco, Sr,” Daylen read from her notes, pondering out loud. “So, Johnny gets gullible Lydia a job with the O’Connellys so he can get her to, knowingly or unknowingly, help him get his hands on the ring?”
“I think that’s a good possibility. What I do know is Betty Boop in there definitely had something to do with it. So how do we find out what exactly?”
“Well, Mrs. O’Connelly said Lydia gets off around five so I think we start by finding out where she goes and what she does in her off time.”
“Or who she does in her off time,” Kanyon added.
Daylen chuckled. “Or who she does. We have a few hours before we need to be back here. I think we should head back to the office and I’ll call a friend at the PD to see what I can learn about Mr. Defalco and Lydia.”
“Sounds good.”
Kanyon left Daylen at her desk making calls and doing background checks on their new leads. She wandered down the hall toward Ruby’s office, stopping halfway to examine the wall. She went back to the doorway of Daylen’s office then paced off the steps to Ruby’s, thirty-two. Interesting. She went back and poked her head into Daylen’s office and eyeballed the room’s width, roughly twelve. Daylen watched her curiously as she continued to talk on the phone. Kanyon waved and ducked back out. She went down to Ruby’s office and took in the distance to the adjoining wall of Daylen’s, maybe fifteen feet.
“What’re we looking at?” Ruby’s question came as a whisper just over her shoulder.
Kanyon jumped. “Jesus, where’d you come from? I was just in the hall.”
Ruby grinned. “It’s just one of my special talents.” Ruby moved around Kanyon and into her office. “Come in and sit. I’d love to hear how things are going with you and Daylen.”
Kanyon followed Ruby and sat in front of Ruby’s desk. “Good, I think. Besides the small fact she wants me to hide behind a mask.”
