by Peggy Jaeger
Ignoring the annoyance in her tone, Josh said, “Because they left before anyone else yesterday, while the party was roaring along.”
“So?”
“Everyone was outside on the beach. No one would have seen them go up to your loft. One of them had plenty of time to leave the note for you.”
“You really think it’s one of them doing this?”
“Strongest probability so far.”
Kandy thought for a second. “I’d bet on Alyssa.”
“Why?”
“Mostly because the calls I’ve been getting sound like a woman.”
“Any other reason, aside from the fact that you just don’t want it to be Cort?”
She threw him a look and said, “If I’m being honest, no. I just can’t see him doing it.”
“Fair enough. It’s my job to find out who it is, not yours.”
Her irritation grew at the mention, one more time, of his job. “Anything else?” she asked, not bothering to hide the displeasure in her voice.
“Mark Begman. Ever have any problems or concerns with him?”
“None. He’s been with me since the beginning, too. Why? Did you find out some nasty little secret about him?”
Josh stopped midstride, and planted his feet in the sand.
Turning back to him, she stopped and saw him, hands fisted on his hips, glaring at her.
“I thought you were over this, Kandy. I thought you were going to help me, not fight me, at every turn,” he said.
Ashamed, she felt twin stains of heat leap out on her cheeks as she looked down at the sand. “I’m sorry.” Raising her head to meet his eyes, she added, “I did agree to help. I want to. Sorry for being so bitchy.”
Josh let her stand there for a few, penitent moments. “Bitchy is a word I would never use to describe you,” he said, walking to where she stood. When he was close enough for her to tip her head back to maintain eye contact, he stopped. “Determined, stubborn, and loyal to a fault are more appropriate.”
She could feel the color spread down her neck.
“I ask about Mark because he’s in a position close to you and has access to the studio. Plus, another network wants him to direct a sitcom for the replacement season.”
This was news to her. “How did you find that out?”
He shook his head. “Professional sources is all I’ll tell you. But it’s true. He hasn’t said anything about it to you? Or Cort?”
“To Cort, I don’t know. He certainly hasn’t said anything to me. You should ask Stacy.”
His brows pulled together. “Why would Stacy know?”
“They were dating up until a few weeks ago. Just casual. Nothing serious.”
“Why’d they break it off?”
“I don’t know if there was anything to break off. Like I said, it was casual. A drink now and then. Maybe a movie and dinner.”
“I wonder why she never mentioned it.”
Lifting her shoulders and glancing out at the sea, Kandy said, “I’d guess she didn’t see it as important.”
“Maybe. How tight is Mark’s contract?”
“He has the same one everyone else does. Run of the show, guaranteed.”
“Are there any out clauses?”
She squinted, thinking.
“Probably. I mean, don’t there have to be for legal reasons? You’ll have to ask someone in the legal department because I honestly don’t know.”
“Cort has the same contract?”
“Yes, because I remember the day he signed it, Stacy and I took him to lunch. He was thrilled to be working at a steady job in television. He’d been dry for a while, opportunitywise.”
Josh nodded. With a quick glance at his watch he said, “It’s getting late.”
They ran the rest of the way in silence, and were met by three very tired, still waking women, gathered around the coffee urn.
Chapter Nineteen
After attending Mass as a family and dropping off the cheesecake to a grateful Mario, Josh had acquiesced and allowed Kandy to drive them back to the city. Gemma drove herself, while Abby and Hannah carpooled.
Due to the heavy end-of-the-weekend traffic, Kandy had to keep her speed to a delicate rush and wasn’t able to weave in and out of lanes. She was as acutely aware of the man seated next to her, typing away on his laptop, as she was of the bumper-to-bumper traffic they were stuck in.
A torrent of thoughts washed through her while she inched forward a few feet per minute.
She’d finally admitted and agreed the person responsible for tormenting her had to be someone within her realm. That simple fact hurt more than she could give a voice to. She’d always tried—in business and in dealing with her family—to be fair, appreciative, and available. To know someone she trusted, someone she’d probably helped, was determined to cause trouble and potentially harm her was upsetting at the very least. Kandy knew she was considered hard and intractable by some people she’d had business dealings with. As she’d told Josh, she’d risen fast and stepped on a few professional toes along the way. But she’d never intentionally or purposefully hurt anyone—not that she knew of. When she’d had to take a hard line with someone she usually felt guilt more than anything else afterward.
Kandy’s generosity to her family was something she also knew many in the business world looked down on and questioned her for. But again, every person she employed, whether related to her or not, was tops at what they did. She truthfully would never have hired them if they weren’t.
Someone she knew wanted her to suffer emotionally and physically. The incidents like her closet being disturbed, the misplaced wallet, and the harassing phone calls all seemed malicious and determined to annoy her. The light falling at the studio and the rental car mishap could have killed her.
Who hated her so much?
When the traffic finally edged its way onto the expressway, Kandy sped up and concentrated on driving, wishing she never had to know the answer.
* * *
“This is a ridiculous hour to be awake and working.” Stacy stifled a yawn and readjusted her glasses.
Josh agreed.
They stood off to one side of the studio set as Kandy put together a simple three-course brunch for the Today Show, while at the same time conferring with the segment director about the best shot angles and how she was going to present the food. Josh glanced down at his watch.
“What time did you get here?” he asked.
“Four. I had all the ingredients shipped over from the studio on Friday, but I wanted to make sure everything arrived and was ready. Live shows like this leave no leeway for problems. Kandy’s got to have everything timed and paced to perfection. They’re doing a full sit-down interview in the seven-thirty hour and then this demo during the eight o’clock segment.”
“Three hours from now. Why did she have to be here so early?”
“Logistics.”
When he just stared at her, she explained. “Like her show, Kandy has to prepare at least two separate meals. One as the finished product for the end of the segment, ready to show and serve, and one for during the preparation stage. She’s so obsessive she makes two finished products just in case one doesn’t come out exactly the way she wants.”
“What are the chances of that happening?”
“Nil. But she does it anyway. And she never wants help. Wants to do it all herself.” She turned to stare up at him. “Remember I told you she borders on obsessive-compulsive?”
He turned back to the set to watch Kandy roll out pastry dough, confer with the director, and evaluate the lighting all at the same time. “Yeah, but it pays off.”
“No argument there.”
She lowered her eyes for a moment and took a breath. Facing him, she said, “Aunt Hannah called me last night.”
Josh put his hands in his pockets and turned his attention back to Kandy’s cousin.
“She thought we might want to halt
production until you find out who’s doing this.”
“Knowing your cousin, do you think that’s a possibility?”
Stacy yawned into her hand. “No. I said as much to Aunt Hannah. I didn’t even have to call Kandy for confirmation. There’s no way she’ll stop working.”
Josh looked down at the clipboard she held, which outlined the schedule for the day.
“Are you any closer to figuring this out?”
He nodded. “A few new things have come up, but I can’t do much about them today since Kandy’s going to be all over the map. I need to stick close.”
“Just knowing this may be over soon is a relief.”
He put a hand on Stacy’s shoulder. “I need to ask you something. Personal.”
Hesitation grew in her eyes and her unlined brow rose above her glasses.
“It’s about Mark Begman.”
Her cheeks turned a hot pink before his eyes. “What about him?”
“Kandy told me the two of you were dating.”
“Not dating. Not really. Why?”
“You never mentioned it.”
She shrugged. “It was nothing serious. He invited me out for drinks twice, dinner once. That was it.”
“No breakup, then?”
“No. I haven’t been out with him for about a month or so.”
“Any specific reason?”
“No. Why is this important?”
“Two reasons.” He leaned in closer to make sure no one around them could overhear. He’d have preferred to have this conversation in private, but he wasn’t leaving Kandy’s side for any reason. “First, Mark isn’t listed as a person who has her private numbers.”
“He doesn’t need them.”
“I realize that, but I have to look at every possibility in this matter and it may be that he obtained them from you.”
“I never gave them to him.”
“Lower your voice.” A few of the setup crew threw glances their way. “I didn’t accuse you of doing so. He might have gotten them without your knowing, say, from your purse or even your tablet.”
He could see the moment the realization hit her.
“Are you saying he only went out with me to gain access in some way to Kandy?” Hurt danced across her expression and he hated himself for putting the doubt in her mind.
“No, Stacy, I’m not. But I have to look at everyone and everything related to her from every angle and perspective. This is just one of those angles.”
She stared at her clipboard for a few seconds. He could see her knuckles turning white from the intensity of the grip. Eyes narrowing behind her glasses, she aimed a cold, deadly glare at him. “You said two reasons. What’s the other?”
He’d debated with himself about letting Mark’s secret out of the bag. But Kandy’s safety was uppermost, not the career machinations of an assistant director.
Josh told her about the offer to direct the sitcom.
“I had no idea,” she said. “Does Kandy know?”
He nodded.
“But why would you suspect him of doing these things? He has no grudge against her.”
“Not an obvious one, but Kandy told me you all have run-of-the-show clauses built into your contracts. Is that true?”
She nodded. “Who wants to leave a hit show? They were put in for all the production staff to protect both management and workers.”
“How hard is it to break the contract?”
She bit her lower lip and scratched a spot under her chin. “I don’t know. You’d need to talk to the legal department. Do you really think Mark’s behind all this because he wants to break his contract?”
Shaking his head, Josh said, “I have no proof one way or the other. But it’s an interesting point to look into, simply because he’s never mentioned it to anyone. I wonder why, and wondering why makes me think there’s an ulterior motive behind it.”
Stacy adjusted her glasses once again and stared up at him. “Pretty big leap to even consider,” she said. “Are you very suspicious by nature, or is it just something you have to do in your job?”
The question floored him, because he had no response for it.
“Never mind. I don’t think I want to know the answer.”
On the set, Kandy spooned fresh berries into a tart.
“You know,” she said, rubbing her chin again, “Kandy’s wallet was missing for a week.”
Josh nodded again.
“Whoever took it could have gotten some of her personal information that way and not necessarily from anything connected with me. Have you seen her wallet?”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes. “It weighs about a pound and it’s filled with scraps of paper with everything from phone numbers of friends and business people to passwords for some of her accounts. I’ve been telling her for years she needs to transfer information as soon as she gets it to her cell phone or computer, but she never does.”
He felt bad he’d put the idea into her head, but in the next minute he thought she might be protesting just a hair too much.
“Regardless,” he said. “I need to look at everything, every bit of info, no matter how small, as it relates to Kandy.”
Stacy nodded. “I’m going to get some coffee. Want some?”
He declined.
For the next three hours he stood watch. With a comfortable ease, Kandy sailed through the interview with the cohost, trading light and humorous banter, and then just as effortlessly moved to the cooking segment. As he’d been before, Josh was amazed at how simple she made everything seem, while he knew the real truth behind the hours of preparation it took to bring the meal to delicious fruition.
When the segment was completed and they were ready to leave, Kandy asked her cousin, “They know where to send it?”
“Yup. I gave the delivery service a time and approval to pick up the food.”
“What am I missing?” Josh asked as they settled into the limo.
“Everything I just cooked is being sent to a women’s shelter in Harlem.”
He stared at her, speechless.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just continually surprised by you.”
A crooked smile coupled with twin commas of confusion lit her brow. “I think that’s a compliment.”
Without stopping for a break, she went from the television interview to the radio station, and then on to Barnes & Noble for the book signing. Josh couldn’t believe the throng of people lined up and around the two-block-square area. When she alighted from the limo, waving and smiling at the crowd, Josh said to Stacy, “She’s like a rock star.”
“Yeah.” A huge grin split her face. “She is.”
Reva met them inside the bookstore, beaming like a beacon when she saw the swarm.
“I called the local news stations when I got here and saw all this,” she told them, reaching up to kiss her client’s cheek. “The manager says there haven’t been this many people waiting for an author since that kid wizard’s last book. You’re a hit again.”
Kandy smiled, and shook the bookstore manager’s hand.
As he stood behind her for the next few hours, Josh was again impressed by Kandy’s graciousness. She never hurried a fan along, or interrupted a story about cooking or baking thrown at her. She was courteous, pleasant, and considerate to all who asked for an autograph or to take a picture. Several times Josh moved in closer when a fan got a little too close or became a little too ardent for his taste. As many times as he did, Kandy shooed him away with a flick of her hand. At two o’clock, the beaming store manager thanked her and kissed her cheeks.
Laughing, Kandy followed Reva and Stacey out the back door to the waiting limo.
“All three local networks showed.” Reva was unable to keep the glee from her face or voice. “Babe, you can’t buy this kind of publicity.”
“I’m starving,” Stacy announced as they climbed into
the limo.
“You coming?” Kandy asked Reva, who stood outside.
“No. I have things to do. But I’ll meet you at the television studio at four thirty. Don’t change. That color looks great on tape.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Kandy told her, bussing her agent’s cheek.
“Where to, Kandy?” David asked from the driver’s seat.
“What do you want?” she asked her cousin.
“I’m craving pork dumplings.”
“Call Wong Fat’s and tell them we’re on the way. Did you hear that, David?”
“You got it. ETA, fifteen, twenty minutes.”
“You like Chinese food?” Kandy asked Josh.
“It’s a food group.”
She laughed. “Then you’ll love Wong Fat’s. Best lo mein in the state.”
For the remainder of the ride to Chinatown, the cousins worked out the scheduling for the following three days of studio production.
Josh was amazed at how fresh and unfettered Kandy looked. She’d been up for almost twelve hours, cooked two full brunches, and been asked more questions than he’d been asked in all of his professional career. And she still smiled, laughed, and appeared in general to be having a good time.
“No cooking for the five o’clock news, right?” she asked Stacy.
“Nope. Pure book promo.”
Josh felt his gut twist when she sighed and closed her eyes.
How anyone could keep a pace like this and not drop to their knees with exhaustion intrigued and baffled him.
But then, the gorgeous woman seated across from him intrigued and baffled him as well.
* * *
Directly after the late lunch, the trio was back in the limo and on their way back uptown for her next television spotlight piece.
Once again Kandy sailed through the interviewer’s questions about her cookbook, charming both her and the television audience. It was almost six thirty by the time they were dropped off at the condo.
A quick check on the answering machine showed, thankfully, no messages.
