I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“You don’t care about Cal, do you?”
“I care about you, Miles.” I studied my fingernails. “Besides, I think he might have killed Gilbert.”
Miles made a face, like he’d tasted something bad.
“Okay, let’s not go there right now,” I said. “Back to us. To you and me. We’re doing something else. Something new.”
“Well, something interesting, anyway,” he said. “So, you want to go to dinner with me?”
I grinned. “That’s interesting?”
He shrugged. “We never really did that before. I mean, unless you count sharing takeout while hashing out homicide cases.”
“True,” I said. “Of course I want to.”
“Good,” he said. He took a deep breath, and then he reached out and took my hand, wrapping his fingers deliberately around my own.
I looked down at our entwined fingers. It was strange how something so small was such a huge thing for us. I raised my gaze to his eyes.
He smiled.
“So,” I said. “I guess this means I’m still on the case?”
* * *
“Good news,” I told Brigit the next morning. “We’re back on the case. And Miles and I are going on a date.”
“Seriously?” she said. “He forgave you for sleeping with his brother?”
“Yes, I’m astonished as well,” I said. “So, I need you to think about some ideas of how we can find communication between Bix and Cal. I’m thinking that Bix is the weak link here, not Cal. Maybe we can pressure him into giving us his phone or something. He seems stupid enough not to have deleted any evidence of their communication.”
“Yeah, but he’s not talking to us,” said Brigit. “And, um, actually, speaking of dates…”
“What?” I set my purse down on my desk.
“Well, you remember that guy Kent Mercer. The one who wasn’t married?”
“Oh, yeah, the starving artist. Did you go out with him?”
“I did.” She grinned.
“Well, looks like you had a nice time. Good for you.”
“I, um, talked to him about the Cross and Flame ring.”
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t see why she was nervous about that.
“See, I really didn’t think we were going to be on the Gilbert Pike case for much longer,” she said. “I figured that when you talked to Miles, he’d be pretty angry. So, I thought we might have some extra time on our hands.”
“Brigit, what are you talking about?”
She twisted her fingers together. “Well, the thing is, he’s kind of in a little bit of a jam. He’s in trouble with Cross and Flame for selling the ring. Apparently, that’s against everything the organization stands for or something. And now they’re going to ruin him completely.”
I sat down at my desk. “Well, that sounds awful for him. But I don’t see what that has to do with us having time on our hands or not.”
“It’s only that I might have sort of promised him that we’d help.”
“I see.”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” I said. “But this guy is pretty broke, right? And when I was explaining to you why we couldn’t work forever on the Gilbert Pike case without cash flow, I thought I made it pretty clear why taking on a case where a person couldn’t pay would be a bad idea. I mean, I didn’t address that eventuality specifically, but I think it would be pretty easy to extrapolate that.”
“You’re mad,” she said again. “You’re using lots of big words.”
“I’m not mad,” I insisted.
“And I know we shouldn’t be doing stuff for people when they can’t pay. But I can take point on this, and I can do most of the work. And I promise it won’t interfere with the rest of my duties. He’s a really nice guy, and I really like him, and I don’t want him to be completely ruined.”
I sighed. “How would we even help with this?”
“We could help him get the ring back.”
I nodded. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. I guess it’s a simple enough sort of job. Just getting back a ring.”
Brigit bobbed her head, looking eager. “Yeah. Very simple.”
“You know what doesn’t make sense, though? The idea of some secret organization completely ruining someone.”
“Oh, well, he explained all of it to me. See, apparently, all of these very powerful people are in the Cross and Flame, or they used to be. And back when Kent was in college, he joined the Cross and Flame because he wanted to have their prestige and power behind him, and he wanted to have a leg up in the art world. But then after he graduated, he started to realize that if he let the Cross and Flame help him make it in the art world, then he’d never know if he was actually good or not. He’d only know that he was connected to the right people. And he couldn’t handle that. So, he decided that he wouldn’t ask for help from any of his contacts. He still wore his ring, though. He was proud of his past with the society. Anyway, when times got really bad, he had to sell the ring for money, and he thought it wouldn’t be so bad of a thing, because he didn’t want to use Cross and Flame connections anyway. But then, after they found out that he sold the ring, they were really angry, and he said that he’s gotten contact that if he doesn’t get that ring back, then they’re going to use their influence and position to block him from ever making it in the art world. So, it’s like his idea to be noble and true really backfired on him. And that doesn’t seem fair. So, we have to help him.”
I thought I’d followed all of that.
Brigit clasped her hands together. “Please, Ivy. He’s a good person. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“Well, if we all got what we deserved, Brigit, the world would be a completely different place. Bad things happen to good people all the time. That’s life.”
“I know, but I really like him.”
“All right, all right,” I said. “I’ll do my best to help him get that ring back.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but not because he’s a nice guy or because I want to make the world fair or anything like that. Because you like him, and I like you, and I want you to be happy.”
Brigit hugged me.
I hugged her back.
* * *
“Oh wow,” said Kent Mercer, looking all over the office. “This is a real private investigator’s office. You’ve even got that door with your name stenciled on the glass, like in all the movies.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, “I guess that was a little bit silly on my part, but I liked the way it looked. Sometimes I like to pretend I’m Philip Marlow or something.”
Kent furrowed his brow. “I think you might mean Sam Spade.”
“Whatever,” I said. “I tried to watch The Maltese Falcon once, but I fell asleep halfway through.”
“Oh, Ms. Stern, you need to try again,” said Kent. He turned to Brigit. “You’ve seen The Maltese Falcon, right?”
“Um… what’s it about?” said Brigit. “Is it about… birds?”
“We’re watching it,” said Kent, shaking his head. “That’s that. If you want, Ms. Stern, you could watch it with us.”
“You can call me Ivy,” I said. “And no thanks. I haven’t got time to watch movies.”
“Too busy drinking,” muttered Brigit.
“Brigit,” I said in a warning voice, “don’t make me change my mind about all of this.”
“You don’t have time to watch movies,” she said.
“I don’t really watch movies,” I said. “Honestly.”
“But that’s because you spend all of your free time at the bar,” she said. “I’m not wrong about that.”
Okay, maybe she was right. So what? “Kent, why don’t you come back into my office?”
“Sure,” he said. “Thanks for doing this. It really means a lot to me.”
I waved that away, gesturing for him to sit down.
He sat in a chair opposite my desk and Brigit sat down next
to him.
I settled down behind my desk and got out my notepad. “So, the way I see it, Kent, your best option is to simply buy back this ring.”
Brigit leaned forward. “Ivy, he doesn’t have the money to buy it back.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll figure that out,” I said. “We’ll find the money to get it back somehow. So, don’t worry about that.”
“Seriously?” said Brigit. “But you said we didn’t have money. You said we need paying cases, and—”
“Brigit, not in front of a client.” I gave her a stern face. Thing was, I was serious about trying to make sure that she was happy. This was the easiest way to get the ring back. Besides, we were getting paid for the Gilbert Pike case now, and Miles seemed to have access to some money, so I wasn’t worried about that. We were probably going to be okay for a bit.
“Thank you so much,” said Brigit.
“Yes, thank you,” said Kent.
“Fine,” I said. I was getting a little uncomfortable with this outpouring of emotion. “Let’s just get down to business, okay?”
Brigit turned to Kent. “She acts like this sometimes, but she’s really a big softy. Once you get to know her—”
“Brigit.”
“Sorry,” she said.
“Okay, so we just need to know who it was that you sold the ring to,” I said.
“Well, that’s kind of the problem,” said Kent.
“What do you mean?” I said. “You sold it on eBay, right? That means that you had to ship the thing. So, you should know the person’s address and everything.”
“Right,” he said. “Well, after I found out that Cross and Flame wanted me to get the ring back, I tried to get in touch with the guy, but he wouldn’t email me back. So I tried to call him, because there was a phone number there. Disconnected.”
“Hmm,” I said. This might be a little bit more work than I had anticipated. That was okay. Anything for Brigit. Besides, I had to admit that I was starting to get a little bit intrigued by the whole thing. “All right, well, we’ll have to look into this a little. I’ll need all of the information you have on the buyer.”
“Absolutely,” said Kent.
“Good,” I said. “I’ll do my best to resolve this as quickly as possible.”
“Okay,” said Kent. “So, what does that mean? Like a day? A month?”
“Somewhere in between those two things, I hope,” I said. I turned to Brigit. “Don’t we have to go meet that journalist?”
“Yeah, in an hour,” she said.
“That my cue to leave?” said Kent, smiling.
* * *
We met with the journalist at a coffee shop in Renmawr. I liked it because there were booths in the back, so I could meet with someone in relative privacy. However, we were in public, so that wasn’t threatening to anyone. There’s something really nice about a booth, especially if it’s got the high partitions in between, which these did. The bench seats, being tucked away. It feels very private.
A booth is my very favorite place to talk in public, but to feel private. The thing is, most booths are in restaurants. So, to get to sit in one, I usually had to buy a meal—sometimes buy a meal for whoever I was meeting as well. Not a problem. Buying those meals is tax deductible and all. But it’s not very casual. It’s pressure.
Of course, I could always meet someone at a restaurant and not buy an entire meal, which would make things more casual. But that would also draw attention to us, because who goes to a restaurant and doesn’t eat? But going to a coffee shop and getting to sit in a booth, well, that sort of solved all of the problems. It was perfect.
The journalist was late, so Brigit and I ordered some fancy coffee drinks smothered in whipped cream, powdered sugar, and chocolate syrup. We sat in the booth and waited, scooping up whipped cream with our fingers and licking it off.
So, that was what the journalist walked in on. Two women in a booth licking their fingers.
Great first impression. Super professional.
“Maybe I’m at the wrong booth,” said the journalist.
I stood up. “Stanley Walter?”
“That’s me.”
“You’re in the right booth,” I said. “Sorry, we were just…” I looked at Brigit.
She shrugged.
Stanley sat down.
Brigit tried smiling brightly at him. “I’m Brigit Johansen. We spoke on the phone.”
“Right,” he said. He looked around the coffee shop nervously. “Look, I accepted a lot of money to keep quiet about this. If you two aren’t really private detectives, if you’re some kind of terrible tabloid journalists who are just trying to get the scoop out from under me—”
“We’re detectives.” I slid my card across the table. “That’s me. Ivy Stern. I’m the detective who found Ralph the Hatchet.”
The journalist nodded slowly. “Oh right. I remember that. The trucker serial killer. Wow. Hey, I do this for you, and when that guy goes to trial, you give me the exclusive.”
“That means that when Ralph goes to trial, I only have to talk to you? No other reporters? I’m sold,” I said.
He grinned. “All right, so what do you want to know?”
“Well, you were in contact with Gilbert Pike, right?” I said. “What was that about?”
He took a deep breath. “Okay, you know that Gilbert Pike’s family owns Quikslim, right?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Well, there was an energy shake that they were rolling out, something called Turboslim or something. Anyway, they had a secret ingredient—”
“Okay, we know this stuff,” I said. “Gilbert was going to blow the whistle on his father. He came to you to help him do that, I guess.”
“You know?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
Brigit spoke up. “We found the memo on his computer.”
“You saw the memo?” Stanley said. “He kept telling me he was going to show it to me, but I never did get my hands on it. I think Gilbert was afraid that if he gave me the evidence, I’d go to press right away, and he was trying to control when the story broke. Man, there was a time when I would have given anything to see that memo, but now—”
“Let’s go back to the part where you said that you accepted money to keep quiet,” I said. “That’s what we’re unclear on. Who gave you that money? Quikslim?”
“Well, yes,” said Stanley.
“Did you approach them and negotiate silence?” I asked.
“Are you kidding?” Stanley said. “I’m a journalist, not a blackmailer. I wouldn’t even have considered such a thing. I was going to bust a huge story wide open. All I was thinking was that maybe I’d get a guest spot on TV interviews. I wasn’t thinking about making money at all.”
“So, then Quikslim came to you?” said Brigit.
“Calloway Pike came to you,” I said.
“What?” said Stanley. “No, I never dealt with Cal Pike.”
“But it was his product,” I said. “According to Louis’s assistant, the CEOs were in the dark about the ingredient. When they found out from Gilbert, they made sure that the shake was reformulated, and they—”
“That’s bullshit,” said Stanley. “That’s complete and utter bullshit. I mean, maybe that’s what Louis told his assistant. I met her once. Nice girl, but she’s a little feisty. Louis probably realized that she’d be less than helpful if he told her that she was working for one of the most corrupt corporations in America. So, maybe she swallowed that story, but I sure as hell don’t. No, when I spoke to Louis, it was pretty clear that he’d been in on this little secret from the beginning of the formulation. And maybe he let little Cal think that it was his product, but he was always coddling that kid. This Turboslim stuff was conceived as an energy shake so that they could hide the fact that it was stuffed full of ephedra. People would think that the effects they were feeling were coming from the caffeine and herbs listed on the bottle. And they’d be dropping weight like crazy. Other companies might try to copy it, bu
t they wouldn’t be nearly as successful. This was a business strategy. I’m sure of that.”
Hmm. Well, this whole thing kept getting more and more confusing.
“What do you mean that Louis coddled Cal?” I said.
“Oh, just take a look at that company,” said Stanley. “Louis is always trying to do stuff for his little boy, especially within the last year. Before last year, I’d say that Cal’s position in the company was just a joke. He was a wild child playboy who rarely came in to the office but liked to pop by once in a while just to pretend he had a job. Then he had some kind of psychotic break or something, disappeared for a week or two, and when he came back, he was ready to ‘really’ work. Thing is, though, everything he’s achieved has been put in place by Daddy.”
That was the second time that someone had mentioned Cal having a breakdown about a year ago. What was that all about, and what did it have to do with the case?
“You studied this company a good bit,” said Brigit.
“I wanted to make sure I knew my stuff,” said Stanley. “I wasn’t going to take them on unless I was completely sure I knew what was going on.”
“But you decided not to take them on,” I said. “You took money instead.”
“I told Gilbert not to go to his father,” said Stanley. “See, at first, he came to me, and we were just going to go public with the story. But then, the longer that we talked, the more he began to understand the scope of the story and the damage we might do to his father’s brand—you know that two people had died from this shake in the limited promotional release—the more he started to feel hesitant about it. I think he was a rebellious kid who wanted to give his dad the finger, not dismantle his father’s empire. But, of course, I wanted the story, so I kept trying to talk him out of talking to Louis. But eventually, Gilbert went to him anyway.”
“And then Louis got in touch with you?”
“Yeah,” said Stanley. “Then Louis came to my office and offered me an exclusive on the family and a whole bunch of cash and I wanted so badly to stay strong and follow my journalistic ethics, but…”
Born Under a Blond Sign Page 18
