Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries Boxed Set (3 Books)

by Jamie Lee Scott

  “It means that Esme concocted all the crap on the website and blog. So?”

  Now I was pissed off. She’d known, and she’d let me think there was really a threat. “So? Are you kidding me? Lauren, this changes everything.”

  “How’s that? I still need protection from that lunatic.”

  “Oh, really? Is there really a lunatic out there? Or was that a ruse too?” Before she could answer, I said, “Come clean now or Gemma’s coming back to Salinas within the hour.”

  There was a long silence. I could hear what sounded like soap opera dialogue in the background. Just as I was ready to have her put Gemma on the phone, she began talking.

  “Look, sales of my last book were down. I didn’t know if it was economics, or that people were moving on to other authors or what. Esme came up with the idea to cause a commotion. Conflict sells novels. We decided to invent conflict through the website to garner some attention. It worked. Traffic was up almost fifty percent. If traffic was up, we hoped sales for this next book would be up too. You know, ‘Oh, yeah, I bought this book about the time when Lauren was having serious trouble with her fans.’”

  I listened, not knowing what to say. This was truly messed up. It made me wonder if something like this was the norm. I mean, didn’t the controversy over James Frey’s book increase sales?

  She continued, “It’s no different than the public relations department would’ve done if they’d thought of it first. Who do think writes those five-star reviews on Amazon?”

  “I don’t really give a shit about reviews on Amazon at this moment. I do give a shit if you’ve been jerking me around, using me for your book-selling scheme.” My face felt hot, and I was yelling, and I didn’t care.

  “Are you kidding me? The stories in the newspaper will bring you great PR, and you’re just the afterthought of the news piece.” She was yelling back.

  “Put Gemma on the phone.” I’d heard enough. I wasn’t going to be sucked any further into her fraudulent antics.

  Lauren lowered her voice, “Look. The attack was real. I don’t know why the woman felt the need to mow me down with her fists, but she did. Maybe she’d been reading the blog, or the Facebook comments. Maybe she thought she’d do more than write a comment. I promise you Mimi, the attack was real.”

  I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure where I should stand on this. And how did all this tie into Esme’s murder? “So we’ve been on a wild goose chase in Esme’s murder investigation, haven’t we?”

  I heard Lauren take a deep breath. “I really don’t know if Esme’s death is related to what was written on the website. I can’t imagine how anyone would even connect her to me. She works in the background, sort of invisible. Not many people even know I have an assistant. My readers think I update the website and answer all the emails myself. Esme is a great loss for me. Henry told me I already have hundreds of emails to be answered, and the blog readers are wondering why I haven’t been blogging from the road. I’ve always given updates while I’m on a signing tour. So to answer your question, yes, you’ve probably wasted your time by trying to track down the origin of the messages.”

  “Shit,” I said, under my breath.

  “Probably. But I do know this. Whoever killed Esme has read my book. And whoever it was had access to my new book before it hit the bookstore shelves.”

  By now I was pacing. When I noticed, I changed my pattern and began walking circles around my desk. I had my phone pressed against my ear so hard it hurt. I switched the phone to my other hand and ear.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before? The killer is now days ahead of us.” In my head, I was trying to decide which direction to take this investigation.

  “I did tell you about the scene being from the book.”

  I sighed. “No, I mean about the online stuff being a PR stunt.”

  “I know I should have. And for Esme’s sake, I’m sorry I didn’t. Why I didn’t, I really can’t tell you. Murder is what happens in books and to other people. When it happens to the people around you, you can’t believe it. I guess I wasn’t thinking right. Between the signings, book sales, the attack, and then the murder, I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Not to mention, you didn’t think we’d figure it out,” I said.

  “That too.” She sounded resigned. “You will keep working with the police, won’t you?”

  “I just don’t know. I have a lot of work piling up. With Gemma traveling with you, and me working the murder, Jackie and Charles are overloaded. If you aren’t telling me the truth, I’m wasting everyone’s valuable time and money.”

  “Mimi, I promise. No more publicity stunts. I didn’t leak Esme’s murder to the press, as you must already know. There hasn’t been anything in the papers. I will cooperate fully from here on out. I owe this to Esme. She was my right arm. I will never be able to replace her, as an assistant or as a person.”

  “I don’t know where to go from here. Look, if I find out you haven’t come clean, I’m not only going to quit the case, I’m going to make sure you are brought up on obstruction of justice charges. Are we clear?” I enunciated each word carefully, making sure she got the full weight of my threat.

  “We’re clear,” Lauren said.

  Charles popped his head in the door and gave me a quizzical look.

  “I’ve got to go.” I hung up.

  Charles asked, “Who was that?”

  “That bitch Lauren knew all along. She let us follow a completely worthless lead.” I flopped into my Aeron chair.

  Charles sat in the client chair across from me and put his feet on my desk. I didn’t have the energy to push them off. “So did you fire her as a client?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “To tell you the truth, I’d like to solve the case before Nick does.”

  Charles jumped to his feet. “I knew it. I knew there was something going on with you guys.”

  “Guess again. There’s nothing going on with me and Nick.” I rolled my eyes.

  Charles singsonged, “But there was.”

  I opened my laptop, dismissing Charles.

  He pushed it shut. “I know. If not now, there was in the past, and there will be in the future.”

  I’d had enough. I reopened my computer. “That’s where you are definitely wrong. There will never be anything between Nick and me. Never.”

  Charles knew better than to close my laptop again. But he leaned in close. “We’ll see.”

  Noncommittally I said, “Uh huh.”

  “I’ve got work to do.” He turned and stalked out. At the door he stopped. “You know you look cute together.”

  Behind the cover of my computer I smiled. As much as I hated to admit it, I liked seeing Nick again. I liked his scent, his smile, and even his sarcasm. Sitting across from him at lunch yesterday had taken me back to before the bad times.

  Suddenly there was a bang and yelling coming from the foyer. I jumped up to see what the commotion was.

  Standing in the entry, yelling at Charles, was Nick. So much for the pleasant memories.

  “You compromised my murder investigation,” Nick shouted.

  “I’m not deaf, detective.” Charles remained cool.

  “No, just stupid.”

  At that point I stepped in. No one insults my employees, but me. And I certainly wasn’t going to listen to Nick berate Charles when he didn’t even know the facts.

  “You either calm down, or leave,” I said.

  “Mimi, I’m fine.” Charles tried to push me aside.

  I stood my ground. And I’d be standing my ground from here on out. Nick wasn’t going to step back into my life and play alpha male with me, or my staff.

  “Nick, you need to shut up and listen to Charles, or I’m going to shoot you.” I moved my hand to my shoulder holster. Damn it, I didn’t have my gun and holster on.

  In a slightly calmer tone, Nick said, “With what, your finger?”

  “Just let Charles speak. Uninterrupted.”

  Nick
said nothing. Charles took this as his cue to speak.

  “Like I’ve been trying to tell you, I have everything in the safe. Yes, the computer is gone, but I have all the information that the computer contained. And I truly hope the crime scene techs dusted the thing for prints before you brought it to me. If they did, we have nothing to worry about. As of now that computer is just a carcass.”

  I winced. Charles could have used a better word. This was a murder investigation after all.

  “So the evidence is intact?” Nick asked.

  I jumped in before Charles could answer. “Yes. So you just wasted all that energy for nothing.”

  Using a different tone, Nick said, “Were you able to get anything from it?”

  Charles’s posture never changed. He’d been cool when Nick was yelling, and he was cool now. “Oh, yeah. A whole lot of nothing.”

  “What he means is we’ve been chasing the wrong lead. There have never been any real threats to Lauren.” I was still angry at the woman.

  “You figured this out from a computer?” Nick asked, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I did some poking around and found out that all of the hostile remarks, threats, and instigation were coming from the same IP address. I pinpointed the address and it turned out to be Esme’s computer.”

  “So all that crap on the website was a hoax?” I could see a crimson color seep into Nick’s tanned face.

  Here we go again. He’s going to blow a gasket.

  “In so many words, yes. It was a publicity stunt. They were trying to increase web traffic, therefore possibly increasing sales on the upcoming book.” I said as I stood my ground, waiting for the tirade.

  “Instead, it got Esme killed.” He was solemn, almost sad.

  Charles piped up. “I don’t think so. I don’t think Lauren, her books, or her fans have anything to do with the murder.”

  Incredulous, Nick said, “How can that be? The murder was a replica of that scene in her book.”

  “So maybe the killer took advantage of the so-called ‘publicity’ to throw off any suspicion. What else did Esme do besides work for Lauren?” Charles said.

  That was it. It wasn’t Esme’s professional life, it was her personal life that got her killed. And who else would have such an interest in vampires? The Camarilla.

  I grabbed Nick by the arm. “Come into my office, we need to talk.”

  Nick resisted for a moment. I felt the flexing of his muscles and nearly let my guard down, wanting those arms wrapped around me. To save myself the embarrassment of jumping his bones, I kept myself from looking at him until I was safely on the other side of the desk. Yes, a large wooden desk between us was a good thing.

  When I did look at him, I could tell he wasn’t thinking the same things I was. He was still back on the fact that we’d been following a dead end.

  Nick sat in the chair and crossed his legs. “What do we need to talk about?”

  “About us.” I was joking, but I wanted to get his reaction.

  “What us?” He’d put his foot back down and leaned forward, not repulsed like I expected, but intrigued.

  Well, that backfired, didn’t it? Think fast. I said, “Us working together on this.”

  “In that case, there is no us.” Nick stood.

  “Sit down,” I demanded. “I have something you’ll want to hear.”

  “I doubt it.” He remained standing.

  “Fine. You know where the door is.”

  “What? What could you possibly say that I want to, or need to, hear?”

  Drum roll please. “I know what the charm necklace is all about.”

  That worked. He sat back down. “Okay?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Camarilla?” I loved having the edge over him.

  “It’s a live role-playing game. They play it up in San Francisco. It has a huge cult following. What about it?” But before I said anything, he said, “Vampires.”

  God, why did he have to know more than I did?

  “Fine, so you know about it. Did you know Esme was a player?”

  “No shit?” Now I had his attention.

  “So is Henry, and Esme’s boyfriend, Sebastian. The boyfriend actually got her involved in the game. The charms belong to the players.”

  “Do you think it’s related to her death?”

  “Could be. I’m just learning more about the game. I’d like to talk to Sebastian about Esme, the game, the other players, and anything else she might have been involved in.”

  Nick said, “So would I. I actually like the guy as a suspect.”

  “Really?” Now he had my attention.

  “I haven’t been able to get a hold of him. I’ve left messages, stopped by his apartment, and even went by his office. He hasn’t been at work, and hasn’t returned my calls.” He’d pulled out a notepad and was flipping pages.

  “Where does he work?”

  He flipped through a couple more sheets of the pad. “That’s what I was looking for.” He flipped one more page. “Here it is. He works for an IT firm in Monterey. They help set up networks and provide support.”

  “So what does he do?”

  “He provides IT support,” Nick said.

  “Really? Can you be more specific? And maybe give me the company name?”

  He looked at the pad again. “Deriw Support Systems.”

  I wrote the name down. “And he hasn’t been there?”

  “I really don’t know. Every time I stop by or call, I get the run-around,” Nick said.

  “Private business?”

  “Very private. Unless I have a warrant, they won’t even tell me if he’s been calling in sick, left the company, or is out on business. Guess they are lawsuit shy.”

  “He’s one of them. The Camarilla vampires. You need to find him.”

  “You keep coming back to that game,” Nick said.

  “I’m sure this live role playing thing has something to do with Esme’s death. I mean, why else would someone stage it like the scene in a vampire novel? I’m sure she gave advanced copies to her player friends. They have to be freaks too, if they dress up and play that game.”

  Nick flipped his notebook closed. “The fan angle may not be completely dead. There’s always a chance a crazy fan knew more than they think, or found out Esme was posting the messages. Hell, who knows?”

  I had a revelation. “Look, you haven’t been able to get to Sebastian, maybe I can.”

  Nick slammed his hands on my desk. I jumped back.

  “No. This is a murder investigation. Don’t you get that? I can’t have you nosing around, contaminating evidence or my potential witnesses.” He pushed off the desk and stood. “I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  “Before you storm out of here like the immature boy that you are, I wanted to let you know that there is a bottle of wine at Lauren’s house that needs to be tested. And maybe even printed.” I still had the one up on him.

  “What?”

  “Henry said he put away a bottle of wine and two glasses that night when he came home. He said he came in through the kitchen and saw the stuff on the counter. Before putting it away, he poured himself a glass.” I beamed with self-satisfaction at knowing this.

  “I know. There was a glass of wine on the nightstand in the bedroom,” Nick sounded bored.

  “Was it drugged?”

  “We think so. But I don’t have the test results just yet.”

  “Do you know what wine it was?” I asked.

  Nick looked up, like he was plucking the answer from the ceiling. “Red.”

  “Bummer. Well, see ya.” I suddenly couldn’t wait for him to leave. I wanted him to want the answer. I wasn’t going to blurt it out.

  “Are you going to tell me? Or do you want me to guess?” Now he was edgy.

  “Fine, it was,” I looked at my notes, “Santa Rita Casa Real Cabernet Sauvignon 2003.”

  “Thanks,” Nick said, writing furiously in his little pad. “Now stay out of it, Mimi.”


  Then he stalked out.

  As soon as I heard the front door of the building close, I called Charles on the intercom. “Do you have contact information for a Sebastian Zidonis from Esme’s PDA?”

  CHAPTER 12

  I couldn’t believe my luck when I called Deriw Support Systems and got Sebastian on the phone. He said he had meetings after lunch, but would be willing to meet with me about one o’clock.

  I drove back to the house and dropped off Lola. She didn’t need to be running loose in the office with so much paperwork scattered everywhere. She’d probably revert back to her potty training days and see it as an excuse to pee on everything. While I was there, I changed into a black sheath dress. The hem came to about mid-thigh, but was flared just enough to be flattering to my behind. I slipped into the same black pumps I’d worn for lunch with Nick. I even had enough time to straighten my hair and wear it loose over my shoulders. I couldn’t wait to meet the elusive Sebastian.

  When Sebastian Zidonis walked into the reception area of Deriw Support Systems, my first thought was NBA. Most of the computer geeks I’d met in my life looked like the class nerd. I’d say Charles was the exception, but if you saw his high school photos you’d know he was the class nerd.

  Sebastian had a body that had been honed for years. He towered at least a foot above me, and I was five-seven. He wore Levis, a long-sleeved Oxford shirt, and a lanyard with his identification card attached. His face had sharp features with a dimpled chin, and looking in his eyes was like looking into a Jacuzzi, pools of blue so pale they had flecks of white.

  I imagined him standing next to Esme, who was the epitome of waif. What a contrast in size, but in looks, they could have been brother and sister: The olive skin, blue eyes, and black hair. Esme’s hair was dyed, but Sebastian’s look naturally black. He had it cropped short on the sides, with a bit of length on top that could easily grow into a curly mess. A curly mess any girl would want to run her fingers through, including me.

  When he put his hand out to greet me, I just stared. The paw he offered could cover my face and he’d still have hand left over to wrap his fingers around my head.