by Peggy Jaeger
Kicking her shoes off in the foyer, she stretched. “I’m taking a shower,” she told him. “We have to leave at seven forty-five for Gracie Mansion.”
Nodding, he asked, “No tux for this event, right?”
“No. Jacket and tie is fine.”
She disappeared into her bedroom, leaving Josh to do the same.
The nervous energy he’d stored up all day following her around and not being able to gather any new information needed immediate attention.
He went into the guest room and called Rick.
“What have you got for me?”
“A couple of interesting things about Mason.”
“Go ahead.” Josh grabbed a notepad and pen from his briefcase.
“In addition to having a background as an actor, it seems he’s been trying to get out of his contract just like the other guy, Begman, has.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Hired a hotshot Hollywood litigator by the name of Patricia Grimble. Ever heard of her?”
Patty. “No. She any good?”
Rick snorted. “Evil is a better word. She’s all shark. Anyway, she’s been burning up her cell phone with calls and texts to Mason for the past month.”
“How did you find out it was about the contract and not something else?”
He could hear Rick’s smile through the phone. “The old Bannerman charm.”
Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. ”Just tell me whatever you did was legal,” he said.
“How long have you known me? Or course it was legal. But I may have to fly out to California next week to make good on a dinner invitation. Anyway,” he added, “my source said Mason wants out and he wants out ASAP. No reason given.”
“I wonder if getting out of his contract would become a moot point if production was halted.”
“What put that thought in your head?” Rich asked.
Josh told him about the note on Kandy’s pillow.
Rick whistled and then said, “Yeah, makes sense. Threaten the safety of the cast and crew, production would stop, and maybe the show would be canceled because of it.”
“That’s a pretty big stretch to cancellation,” Josh said. “From everything I’ve seen and heard about this show, the network isn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it being on air. It’s a cash cow for the sponsors.”
“Does Kandy have the authority to pull the plug?”
“Actually,” Josh said, frowning, “I don’t know. Whoever wrote the note thinks she does, because everyone knows how loyal she is to her crew.”
“So making a threat against them might influence her to cease production.”
“Yeah.” Josh nodded. “Makes the most sense so far. I’ll find out if she has final say. Anything else?”
“Yes,” he said. “Alyssa Mason was in rehab about six months ago. Very hush-hush. The press never got wind of it.”
“For what?”
“Booze. She’s a bit of a nasty drunk, too. Went in kicking and screaming, but completed the program. She was discharged thirty days later.”
“Interesting.”
They signed off a minute later with Rick promising to keep digging. Josh booted up his laptop to get some more work done before they had to leave.
* * *
For the third time Kandy searched her jewelry cabinet but couldn’t find the pieces she wanted to complement her outfit. The same uneasy feeling she’d had when she’d arrived home from California and thought her clothes had been rearranged blew through her head. These were the times she felt her borderline OCD was a good thing, because she knew without doubt she’d been robbed.
She bolted from her bedroom wearing just her robe and called out Josh’s name.
He materialized from his side of the condo in an instant.
“What’s wrong?”
He moved so quickly, she barely blinked before his hands were wound around her upper arms. Like her, he hadn’t finished dressing yet, his feet and torso bare.
Kandy had to mentally force herself to look up at his face and not the broad, chiseled, expanse of his chest.
His naked chest.
“I’ve been robbed,” she told him, swallowing hard. “There’s some jewelry missing I know I saw just the other day in my cabinet.”
“Show me.”
Kandy described the pieces she’d intended to wear: two diamond bracelets with a matching drop-slide necklace, the diamond teardrop, three carats.
“You’re sure these pieces were in here? You didn’t put them someplace else so they’d be easily accessible, planning for when you’d wear them tonight?”
“No. They were in here Friday morning. I checked before we left for the studio because I knew how tight my schedule was going to be today.”
Josh ran a hand threw his still-damp hair. “How come you don’t keep them in a safe, or at the bank?”
“Because I like easy access. If I kept them at the bank I’d be making trips to it almost weekly. And I never had a safe installed in here because, well, I felt safe.”
Josh shook his head. “Are you sure nothing else is missing? It’s just those three pieces?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I was focused on those.”
“Go look while I call the police. A theft like this needs to be reported.”
With a sigh, she frowned. “Josh—”
“I know, Kandy.” He gripped her upper arms again and through the robe she felt his warm fingers soothe. “But I can’t handle a theft like this. The police need to be the ones to investigate it.”
Resigned, she nodded.
While she searched through the jewelry cabinet tucked inside her walk-in closet, she heard Josh speaking on the phone.
Within fifteen minutes two uniformed police officers were shown into her condo.
In addition to the bracelets and necklace, Kandy couldn’t find a ring that had belonged to Grandma Sophie and a pair of pearl earrings that were a present from Gemma.
“Your insurance company have pictures of the pieces?” one of the uniforms asked.
It was Josh who answered. “I’ve already called them and reported the theft. They’re faxing the photographs over to my office and I’ll have my partner run them over to the precinct.”
“Any idea of the value of the jewelry, Miss Laine?” the other officer asked.
Kandy stole a quick look at Josh and then said, “In total, they’re worth about two hundred and fifty thousand.”
The police asked to speak privately with Josh, so Kandy took the opportunity to call Stacy and relay the events of the evening so far.
“Are you going to come to the event?” Stacy asked. “I can give your regrets to the mayor.”
“No, we’ll be there. Just get everyone settled at the table. I don’t want to miss this.”
“Kandy, it’s perfectly understandable if you cancel.”
“I know, but we’ll be there. Let everyone know we’ll be late.”
Stacy’s sigh was long. “Okay. You know best. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Kandy pressed the End icon on her phone. When she turned, Josh was standing in her bedroom doorway, his hands folded into his pants pockets.
“Are they gone?” she asked.
He came into the room and nodded. “Since there was no evidence of forced entry and you live in a doorman-protected condo, there’s not much they can do except file a report and put the word out to local pawnshops and such.”
“They’re not even going to dust for fingerprints or anything?”
His lips lifted a little at the corners. “I doubt it. Unless whoever took the jewelry tries to sell it, their hands are pretty much tied.”
“This just sucks.”
“I agree.” He stared at her for a moment. “I heard you talking to Stacy. You really feel up to going to this shindig?”
“No, not really.” She sat down on a corner of her bed. “But I feel li
ke I have to. Do you think this is related to…you know?” She bit the edge of her bottom lip. For some strange reason she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“I actually do.” He leaned a hip against her dresser. “And I think you do, too.”
She nodded and dropped her gaze down to her phone. “It feels the same way it did when I got back from California. Like someone was in here, going through my things.”
“Only this time they took something.”
The sadness that had soaked into her system when she’d discovered the theft gave way to anger. She nailed Josh with a determined glare. “I want to know who’s doing this. And I want to hurt them.”
“I know, Kandy. I want that, too. I promise you I’ll make whoever it is pay for all this.”
In that moment she knew one very real and total truth about the man she was rapidly losing her heart to: he kept his promises.
“Come on,” he said, pushing off the dresser. “Let the police do their job. Get ready.”
She nodded again and rose from the bed with a sigh. “I need about ten minutes.”
* * *
When he met Kandy in the foyer, he was clean and fresh in a deep blue suit and matching tie.
“You look nice,” she said, tossing her keys into her purse. “Very professional.”
When he saw the midnight-blue strapless dress she was garbed in, he wanted to say, “You look good enough to eat,” but didn’t. Instead, his gaze raked from tumbled-coiffed head to four-inch-heeled toes, his stomach doing flips at the length of leg in front of him, and said, “So do you.” He hoped the heat burning inside of him didn’t show in the gravel in his voice.
She dazzled him with a broad smile and Josh realized she knew exactly how damn good she looked. In lieu of the jewelry she’d planned on wearing, she’d opted now for simple and sparse, just a gold chain with a small sapphire at the base, a pair of matching earrings, and a thin, gold wristwatch on her left arm.
In the elevator she explained the evening ahead of them. “Every year the mayor hosts his Citizen of the Year banquet. I always buy a table.”
“It’s a fund-raiser?”
Nodding, she fiddled with the stone at her neck.
“Proceeds go to summer programs for inner-city kids. It’s a good cause. Most of the people who get this award have helped the public in some major way. Last year the award went to Captain Brad Stefans. Have you heard about him?”
Josh told her he hadn’t, realizing he’d been caught staring at the low-slung bodice of her dress.
With a smile he could describe only as sly, letting him know he’d been caught, she continued. “He was a chaplain stationed in Afghanistan and was wounded during one of the air strikes. Came home in a wheelchair and started teaching English to non-English-speaking Latinos and Asians in the community, free of charge.”
“Impressive,” he said, shifting his gaze to the doors when they opened. He left first, glancing around the area, and then stepped aside for Kandy to exit.
“The only down part is the food. It’s usually not very good.”
Josh grinned. “Are you saying that because you’re not catering it, or because it really isn’t?”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder with a quick flick of her wrist, she pierced him with an ice-cold gaze and said, “You can judge for yourself when it’s served, but one thing you should realize by now is I’m not catty when it comes to food. I cook well. That’s just fact, not hubris. The food at this affair is donated by various restaurants in the city so all the money raised can go toward the charity. There’s no set fare, just small samplings off their menus. Usually it’s either overcooked, undercooked, or cold. Last year Reva had a piece of fish that was raw on the inside —and it wasn’t supposed to be. Plus, there’s no set theme, so spicy is mixed in with bland and you never really know what you’re getting. I hope you have a strong stomach.”
The haughty tone, meant to put him in his place, failed. As Josh watched the cavalier way she walked away from him, balancing perfectly on shoes any other woman would have cringed in pain to wear, he felt a live wire shock him with a megavolt of power.
He wanted those legs wrapped around his waist, holding tight while he disappeared into her.
He wanted to yank that barely-there-dress off her body and brand her, letting everyone know she was his and his alone.
He wanted more than anything to tell her how much he desired her, craved her, hungered for her, as no man ever had before.
He wanted to do all that and more.
But what he wound up doing was following her through the lobby. A sudden thought blew into his head and he put out a hand to hold Kandy still and turned back to the porter’s desk to the doorman, whose name he’d learned was Andy.
Before he could ask a question, Andy said, “Miss Laine, I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“It’s not your fault,” she told him.
“Did the police ask you anything? Anything about suspicious visitors, or people you didn’t recognize?” Josh asked.
“Yes, sir. I told them no one unusual came by, and I’ve been here all weekend.”
“No one came with, say, a delivery for Miss Laine?”
“No, no one, just—”
Josh’s ears perked up. “What?”
His brown eyes looked sheepishly from Kandy then to Josh and back to Kandy again. “Well, Mr. Chandler stopped by on Friday evening, asking if you were home.”
“Evan?” Kandy’s risen voice echoed in the entranceway. “Evan was here?”
“Yes, miss. He arrived, oh, about, ten-ish on Friday. Told me to let him up to see you. I remembered you’d taken his name off the visitor list, so I told him no and asked him to leave.”
“How’d he react?” Josh asked.
The doorman’s lips thinned, his eyes narrowing. “Not well. He called me a few nasty names. I told him I was going to call the police, and after a few harsh descriptions about my mother, he left.”
“Moron,” Kandy muttered.
“Did he come back?” Josh asked.
“No, and like I said, I’ve been on duty all weekend because Sanderval’s wife is sick.”
Josh pulled at this bottom lip and asked, “Would it be possible for me to get a look at the security footage for the building?”
“Right now? I can’t leave my post until I’m relieved at eleven.”
He turned to Kandy, “We should be back by then, right?”
“We should. But even if the program goes long, we can just leave whenever we want.”
“Okay,” Josh told Andy. “Wait for us to get back. Don’t leave, okay?”
“You got it. Anything for you, Miss Laine.”
Josh understood the sheepish devotion dancing across the man’s face.
He put a hand to Kandy’s back and said, “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty
“Food’s lousy as usual,” Reva declared, tossing her fork down.
Kandy looked over at Josh and lifted an eyebrow.
He smiled into his water glass.
“You should volunteer to do this shindig next year, sis,” Gemma said. “At least we’d get a decent meal.”
Josh put down his glass and surveyed his dinner companions.
Reva was seated next to her client and across from him. When they’d taken their seats after being shown into the spacious ballroom, Kandy had purposely placed herself opposite Josh, squeezed in between her agent and Stacy. To Stacy’s right was Harvey Little. Next to him, Gemma—without her camera for once. Alyssa Mason was seated to Josh’s right, next to her husband, who rounded out the table of eight.
When they’d arrived almost an hour late, everyone began asking Kandy questions at once about the robbery. She attempted to downplay the incident, saying the police were on the case and that she was lucky she was insured. Reva had pierced Josh with a penetrating stare, but she’d backed down when he gave her a small shake of his head.
“You know,” Gemma said, “I had to cancel my date tonight so you could have a seat with us.”
Turning his attention to her, Josh tried to discern by her expression if she was mad about it.
She smiled at him. “Thanks. The guy was a real bozo. You did me a favor.”
Josh grinned. “I aim to please.”
“Have you found out anything about…you know?” Her eyebrows rose as she finished her sentence.
“Moving along.”
Thinking of what his partner had discovered, Josh turned his attention to Alyssa. She’d been drinking heavily since they’d arrived and hadn’t touched any of the food offered to her. Neither had Kandy, but she wasn’t guzzling Cosmopolitans by the cocktail glassful.
Josh studied the model for a few moments, concerned when he saw her eyes trained on Kandy. Her gaze never wavered from its piercing scrutiny, and the expression on her face turned sour when Kandy laughed at something Cort said.
For his part, the director appeared more nervous than usual. He frequently snuck glances at his wife and to the drink in her hand. Several times Josh heard him whisper for her to eat something, but she flipped her hand at each entreaty, dismissing him.
Wanting to draw her attention away from Kandy, Josh leaned over and said, “You’re not a fan of the food either, I see.”
Amber-colored eyes, slightly bloodshot and glassy, tried to focus on him when she turned.
“I wouldn’t eat this bloody crap if you paid me,” she said, in a voice that didn’t care if it was heard.
All heads at the table turned toward her. Cort slid his chair closer and said, “Babe, not so loud. One of the chefs is at the next table.”
“I don’t care.” Her voice remained shrill. She polished off her drink and commanded her husband get her a refill.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked.
“No.”
“Come with me to the bar, then.”
“No. I want to sit here. Go on. Go.”
Josh was embarrassed for the man when he saw Cort’s shoulders sag as he rose to do as he was told.
Next to him, Gemma whispered, “What a bitch.”
