What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)

by CJ Roberts

Lauren magnified that area of the photo. “Yep, and she’s wearing a black high-heeled shoe with a red sole.”

  “Looks like a Christian Louboutin to me,” Kaden said. When they turned to him, eyebrows raised, he grinned. “What? Can’t a straight guy be able to tell a Louboutin from a Jimmy Choo?”

  “No,” Nic said at the same time as Lauren.

  “Well, I must be special then.”

  “That’s one word for it,” Nic joked.

  Kaden laughed. Then he sobered. “Seriously though. I bought my ex a pair of these last Christmas. Louboutin shoes all have a red sole, like this one.”

  Lauren zoomed on the shoe some more. “This is a distinctive style. If I crop the photo to show only the shoe, a shoe store might confirm the brand and tell us where this kind of shoe is sold. I think it’s worth a try.”

  “I agree, chérie. We can start first thing in the—.” The buzz of the security intercom interrupted him.

  Kaden rose from his chair. “That must be the detectives.”

  As they waited, Lauren started to fill the mugs with tea. Her hands shook. Nic took the pot from her and finished pouring. “How are you holding up?”

  “When I’m focusing on something else, I’m not thinking about it. But as soon as I stop, it all comes back. Until tonight, it all seemed a little unreal. I guess that makes me selfish.”

  “Selfish how?”

  “I mean, even before we knew the stalker had killed Summer, things were pretty serious. You’d been drugged and could have died. It should have felt real to me all along.”

  He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “You’re not selfish. It’s natural to downplay things that frighten you. I never thought it would go this far either.”

  She snuggled her head against his shoulder. “Still, I’m sorry. Maybe now that this is a murder investigation, the police will be more serious.”

  When the front door opened, he said, “We’ll find out soon enough.” They stood up to greet Anderson and Becker. Once everyone was settled, Nic told them what happened at the gala and what Lauren had found in the photo.

  “Sounds like you’ve all had quite the evening. May we see the photo?” Anderson asked. Lauren turned the laptop toward the men, and they left their seats to crouch in front of the screen.

  “It’s a hotel room. Layout is standard but the carpet color indicates someplace high-end,” Becker said.

  “Ms. James, can you email me both the original and enhanced versions? Here’s my address.” Anderson handed her a card. “We’ll check out the hotels in the area that have pale carpeting in the rooms and get back to you as soon as we have some news.”

  “I’ll do it right now,” Lauren said, already bringing up the email client on her laptop.

  “Thanks. If the two of you don’t mind, we’d like to keep your phones overnight. Have the techs check them out.” Her concentration on the email she was writing, Lauren absently reached into the pocket of her cargo pants, extracted the phone, and handed it to Anderson.

  Nic had to stifle a grin as an image of Lauren pulling a kitchen sink out of the large pocket popped into his mind. “Have them look for spyware. We think that’s how the stalker always knows where I am.”

  Anderson accepted the phone Nic held out to him. “If we find any, we’ll see if we can trace it to the stalker. We might get lucky.”

  “Should I get a new phone?”

  “No,” Becker said immediately. “The stalker communicates with you through this phone. You get rid of the phone, you destroy the link.”

  “Got it.” Nic didn’t like it, but he understood Becker’s reasoning.

  Becker stood up. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the resources to put a man outside your door. The most we can do is ask for extra patrols in the area.”

  “We’ll be okay with Kaden here.” They shook hands and the detectives left.

  “What now?” Lauren asked.

  “Now we go to bed. No one can get to us here.” Nic caught her hand and led her upstairs to the privacy of their bedroom. After the crowds and chaos of the day, it would feel good to be alone with Lauren, just the two of them, to hold her in his arms and enjoy sharing a bed with the woman he loved.

  The next morning, Lauren sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the sight of Nic savoring his cup of coffee. The intercom buzzing startled her out of her reverie.

  Mistaking her reaction for nerves, Nic patted her hand. “It’s probably the detectives returning our phones. I’ll be right back.”

  Lauren nodded and fixed her gaze on Nic’s butt as he sauntered out the door. The man was a walking advertisement for Levi’s. Nic had it all: looks, intelligence, and an incredible intensity that let a woman know she had his full, undivided attention. She shook her head in bemusement. And he loved her. He’d told her in the limo and then again about a million times while he’d made love to her. Each time, punctuating the words with a warm, wet kiss. On her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her…

  Lauren gulped and clapped her hands to her flushed cheeks as Nic returned with the detectives in tow. He peered at her face. “Something wrong?”

  “N-no,” she stammered. “The coffee’s hot and I burnt my tongue.” Embarrassed by her lame excuse, she turned to greet the detectives. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  “Good morning, Ms. James. Here’s your phone,” Anderson said, handing it to her. “We got all the info we could from the message you received last night. And you’ll be happy to hear that your phone is clean—no spyware.”

  Then he turned his attention to Nic. “And here’s yours, Mr. Lamoureux. As you suspected, a spyware tool has been loaded on it. The techs are working on accessing the website used to track your location information. If needed, we’ll get a subpoena to force the host company to give us the account holder information.”

  Becker stepped forward. “In the meantime, we’ve cloned your phone. That means we’ll get any messages sent to you at the same time you do.” Although he was addressing Nic, Becker shot her a loaded look, then turned back to Nic. “We’ll also be receiving and recording any conversations. Please keep that in mind.”

  Lauren narrowed her eyes at him. Did Becker think she and Nic engaged in phone sex or something like that? What a jerk. Then a bomb went off in her head. The fan letter! Had Becker found the letter she’d written to Nic two years ago? Head lowered, she rubbed her temples with her palms. Nic could never see that letter. She had to get it from Becker.

  Anderson gestured to the chair beside her. “May I?” he asked. Lauren nodded, liking his old-fashioned politeness. Maybe Anderson would help her get the letter back.

  “Using indicators from the photograph you sent us yesterday,” he began, “we’ve found Ms. Rayne’s body. Initial analysis puts time of death last Saturday. Once the autopsy is done, we’ll be able to pinpoint the time frame to a four-hour window.”

  “So either Summer or the stalker could have written the message on my mirror. We know how Summer could have gotten the key and the security system code, but how would the stalker have gotten it?”

  “Mr. Lamoureux, you need to consider all the women you interact with. This person is intelligent and determined. She has strong feelings of attachment, even ownership, where you’re concerned. She wears expensive designer shoes, always knows your general whereabouts, and has obtained access to your loft. Can you think of anyone who fits this profile?”

  Summer herself had fit this description. But there had to be someone else. Who? Only one woman came to Lauren’s mind. Could it be her? She’d need a lot more proof before she said anything to Nic. If she accused his best friend and she was wrong, she’d look jealous. But if she was right and she didn’t say anything, she’d look dead.

  After sitting down beside her, Nic raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “It could be any one of a number of women, except for the access to my loft. But then, if they were working with Summer, she might have given them the key and code.”

  “What about your agent
?” Anderson asked.

  Hearing the detective’s question, Nic’s face blanched and tension radiated from his body. Lauren put her hand on his thigh and gently squeezed. Even considering Vivian had to feel like a betrayal to him. Nic shook his head. “It can’t be her.”

  After a brief pause, Anderson said, “Just think about it.”

  “We also determined the message from last night was sent using a prepaid phone purchased at a Walmart in New York,” Becker said.

  “Were all the messages sent from the same phone?” Lauren asked.

  “The first and second messages were. That phone was activated in Chicago.”

  “Was it also bought at a Walmart?”

  “We’re still working to determine that.”

  Kaden leaned forward. “When was each phone activated?”

  Becker pulled out a notebook from his jacket pocket. “The Chicago phone was activated on January tenth and the New York phone was activated on March twenty-first.”

  “The third one was also prepaid and probably activated in Miami, based on the number,” Kaden said.

  Anderson’s eyebrows shot up. “The third one? I take it you’ve been investigating on your own?” The detective’s face hardened.

  Kaden scratched his jaw and averted his eyes. “A friend at the phone company pulled Summer’s records. She called a Miami number when she was at Taylors with Nic.”

  Nic’s brow creased. “In January, I did a promotional appearance on a talk show in Chicago. And in March, I attended an awards ceremony in New York.”

  “It’s too bad we don’t know when the Miami phone was activated,” Lauren said.

  “Well, I was on set in Miami in February.” Nic took a deep breath and sighed. “So, if the phone was activated then, that means whoever bought the phones probably either went to each location with me or followed me there.”

  Lauren shuddered, and Nic put his arm around her shoulders. She shot him a faint smile even as her heart broke for him. Vivian was looking more and more like a viable suspect.

  “Did anyone besides your agent attend all three of these events with you?” Anderson asked.

  Nic pinched the bridge of his nose, and she could see the frustration in his eyes. “I couldn’t say. A lot of fans attend all my events.”

  Anderson’s gaze sharpened. “But no one you know personally?”

  “No.”

  Becker put his notepad away. “We’ll confirm the purchase location of the third phone, and we’ll see if we can identify the store where the killer’s shoes were bought.” He shifted his gaze, including Kaden and Lauren in his hard stare. “Is there anything else you haven’t told us? Now would be a good time to share.”

  Nic shook his head. “You know everything we do.”

  “Good. And from now on?” He paused until he had everyone’s attention. “Leave the detecting to the detectives. The last thing we need is the three of you running around contaminating evidence. We need to catch the killer before she goes after Ms. James.”

  When Lauren gasped, Nic scowled at the detective.

  “Sorry ma’am.”

  She inclined her head but remained silent. Of course Becker was right but, jeez, was a little sensitivity too much to ask for? Minutes later, they wrapped things up and the detectives left. She rubbed her temples as a massive stress headache pounded behind her eyes.

  “Are you okay, chérie?”

  She shot him a small smile. Nothing got past the man. “Just a headache.”

  “Why don’t you take some Advil and have a nap?”

  Great idea. She kissed him and went up to their bedroom. As she crossed the room, she took in the sight of her purse on the dresser next to Nic’s keys, her book on top of his script on the nightstand. In the closet, she saw her gown hanging next to Nic’s tux, her shoes next to his. She entered the bathroom to get the Advil from her cosmetics bag. Her eyes fell to the toothbrush holder where her brush stood next to his.

  Her chest constricted painfully. Everything around them was so wrong, but this? This felt right, so unbelievably right. She wanted to see her toothbrush next to Nic’s for the rest of her life.

  Tomorrow, she had to go back to Seattle, back to work, back to reality. The roller coaster ride was over. She’d loved Todd, she really had. But losing Nic was going to hurt worse. So much worse. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of never holding him again.

  Despite the emotions running high and the adrenaline rush they’d both been feeling last night, Nic had meant every word he’d said. He loved her. When she looked into his eyes, when they made love, when he held her close, she felt his love for her. So why not stay? Why not make a life with him?

  Because sometimes love wasn’t enough.

  The faint sound of her phone ringing interrupted her thoughts. Crossing to the dresser, she got her phone out of her purse and answered it.

  “Ms. James? This is Helen Combs from Vanity Fair.”

  “Ms. Combs. How are you?”

  “I have some good news. Your talent and unique vision impressed the executive committee. Vanity Fair would like to offer you a position.”

  “A position?” Weren’t they just talking about the purchase of a few photos?

  “Yes, we have three photographers on staff, with you we’d have four. Each would provide shots for the cover and a headline article for three issues a year in addition to some smaller side projects.”

  Lauren began to hyperventilate and forced herself to take several deep breaths. When her throat relaxed enough for speech, she said in her most professional voice, “That sounds very interesting, Ms. Combs. Where is the job location?”

  “Our headquarters and studios are in New York.”

  “Do I have to relocate?”

  “No. You’ll need to travel to our headquarters occasionally, and of course, we’ll fly you to different locations for photo shoots.” Lauren breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good. Travelling might be an issue, but her parents and her friends probably wouldn’t mind helping her out from time to time.

  “We would like to offer you a starting salary of fifty thousand dollars. We have a medical plan and a 401K program. Our HR department will provide you the details.”

  Holy crap! They wanted to pay her fifty thousand dollars to take pictures? That was twice what she made at the department store. Lauren inched her way back to the bed to sit down. “When…” She cleared her throat. “When would I start?”

  “This is the part that might be difficult. We would need you in New York by Friday afternoon. We’re having a four-day workshop with all the editorial staff and photographers to plan the next twelve issues. Because we’re changing our format, we’ve had to throw out all our previous plans. We’re starting with a clean slate, so this is the perfect time for you to be joining the team.”

  Lauren pressed a palm against her racing heart. Opportunity was knocking. Was she brave enough to open the door? It was a five-and-a-half-hour flight from LAX to JFK, plus the three-hour time difference. To be there by Friday afternoon, she’d have to either leave tomorrow morning or take a red-eye tomorrow night. Everything was happening so fast. Lauren rubbed her temples. A position at Vanity Fair would change her life and Jason’s for the better. She swallowed hard and said, “I’d be delighted.”

  “Excellent. You can sign the contract and benefits documentation when you get here. Of course, we’ll reimburse all your travel costs, so please keep your receipts.”

  Lauren thanked the woman again and ended the call. She fell back onto the bed and smothered her face in Nic’s pillow, inhaling the faint scent of his Armani cologne deep into her lungs. It wouldn’t take much to make her stay. Around Nic, everything was more. More exciting, more intense. He’d flash his brilliant movie star smile, peer into her soul with his baby blues and say, “Everything’ll be all right, chérie,” and she’d believe him.

  No matter how much they might love each other, she had to be strong, had to resist him. Life with Nic was just too dangerous
for her and Jason. The stalker’s threat against her was clear. And terrifying.

  Last night, when Nic had admitted that he loved her, she’d been bursting with joy. But even so, it would be irresponsible of her to put her son at risk for a man who wasn’t honest about his past. If he loved her enough, he’d trust her with the truth.

  She fought back a sob and hugged Nic’s pillow more tightly against her chest. Maybe once things quieted down after the stalker was caught, they could see each other again and talk. They could find a way to make it work, if they loved each other enough, couldn’t they? Maybe then he could trust her enough to be honest about Rachel. And if he couldn’t? Her father had said it: he wasn’t the one for her.

  New York City and Vanity Fair’s offer waited for her. A new chapter in her life was starting. This opportunity would better her life and Jason’s. It would make her into the strong, independent woman she’d always wanted to be. And it was all thanks to Nic. Meeting him was the best thing to ever happen to her.

  Leaving him would be the worst.

  Nic paused in front of his office window and stared outside, unable to believe what he was hearing on the phone. Was Rémi yanking his chain? The man had pulled some pretty elaborate pranks in the past. As much as he’d be pissed at his friend for being such an asshole, he’d also be relieved. What Rémi had just said was his worst nightmare.

  “Come on man. Stop fucking with me.”

  “I wish I were. When Rachel called me, I assumed she was misunderstanding something, overreacting, you know? But then she showed me the letter. There’s no mistake.”

  His head was starting to spin, eerily reminiscent of his Rohypnol misadventure. On shaky legs, he stumbled to his chair and collapsed into it, putting his head between his knees before he passed out. “Tell me again what the letter said.”

  “It says:

  Ms. Lamoureux, wire ten million to the following bank account within five days. If you do not produce the money, I’ll hurt you, destroy the ranch, and kill your brother. I know what he did, and I’ll tell the world the truth about the accident. Do not involve the police. I’m watching you.”