“Hey,” I announced myself. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a system.”
He looked up. If ever Charles looked flustered, it was now. “Since when am I a secretary?”
I smiled. I could relate to his frustration. Paperwork wasn’t my strong suit, so why did I open a business where every case had reams of reports? At first, I used to put off the reports, but then it became overwhelming. Now I forced myself to write it all down at the end of the day. Just like a lawyer, when you are billing by the hour, keeping track means the difference between a steak dinner and macaroni and cheese. In my first year I probably worked at least a hundred hours for which I never got paid. Having Charles has made a difference. He makes sure I get every penny.
“How about I give you another task?” I hurried over and kissed him on the cheek. “You know how much I appreciate you, right?”
“Yeah, you only appreciate me when you need something. I’m a computer forensics tech, not a freaking file clerk.” Boy, he was in a bad mood.
I handed him Esme’s phone, hoping to mollify him.
He snatched it from me, turning it over and back. “What’s this?”
There wasn’t anything special about it. It was a typical thin, Blackberry. “A cell phone,” I said.
“Really?” Charles’s sarcasm increased with his temper. He really was in a bad mood.
“Esme’s cell phone.” I beamed.
Now Charles looked at the phone again with a new appreciation. “How did you get this?”
“Sebastian gave it to me.”
“How did he get it? Didn’t the police take it when they searched the house?”
“Sebastian said he thought she dropped it in his car on Monday night. He was going to give it to the police when they stopped by, but since I got there first, he gave it to me. Lucky me.” I was almost giddy.
Charles flipped the phone open. “It’s dead.”
“I know. Do you have a charger that will fit it?”
“If not, I’ll go buy one. This should be interesting.” He abandoned the papers he’d been sorting and left me standing there to assess the magnitude of the mess we had.
I walked around to the other side of the conference table and looked closer at the piles. No matter how I tried to process the information, I couldn’t make sense of how he had everything organized. I picked up one set and flipped through one page at a time. There was no rhyme or reason to the stack that I could find.
Charles came back as I set the papers back on the table. “We’re in luck, I have a charger. We’ll give it about an hour or so and then I’ll take a look. When I get the number, I’ll call the cell phone company and get a copy of the records for the last few months. I’m sure we’ll be able to match every number to those in her PDA.”
“Good,” I said, and then pointed at the table. “Is there a method to your madness here?”
“Madness is a good way to put it,” Charles scoffed. “The temp and I just tried to clean things up. It looked bad when clients came in. I wouldn’t give my business to a company with papers strewn across the floor.”
I had to agree. “So this is just random stacks?”
Miffed, Charles said, “Yes, Mimi, I can’t work miracles. Every piece of paper we had in this office was on the floor.”
“I wasn’t criticizing. I was asking. This is a lot to absorb.”
“This is taking away from our clients, you know.”
The thought made me sick. We could ill afford to neglect our clients in order to clean this up. When I got my hands on the person who did this, I was going to make a mess of my own on his face.
I said, “Do you think we should hire a few more temps and have them work with minimal supervision, so we can get back to work?”
Charles frowned. “That’s all well and good, but we have to hire bonded temps. The stuff in these files is confidential. And what happens when we need to have something for a current case, and we can’t get to it?”
“All the more reason to have extra help putting everything back in order,” I said. My phone rang. “Hold on.”
I didn’t look at the caller ID. “This is Mimi.”
“Are you really that stupid? I told you to leave this alone. If you don’t, you’ll be in worse shape than your offices.” It was that voice again.
Now I was annoyed. “Look you idiot, cell phones can be tracked. I’ll know who you are within minutes.”
“Throw away phones aren’t traceable.” The line went dead.
And that’s where the caller was very wrong. The disposable phones that come with prepaid minutes are easily traceable. All I, or rather Charles, needed to do was track the activation time and place. From there, I admit, it was a crap shoot. We’d have to get lucky enough that the seller had video surveillance. Most places with electronics have some sort of camera system in place.
“Who was that?” Charles asked.
I sighed. “Not sure. I’ve been getting calls all week telling me to back off. Since the only thing I’ve been working on is Esme’s murder I guess maybe it’s related to that. I haven’t really thought much about it. I mean what coward hides behind stupid cell phone threats?”
“Maybe the kind that kills people.” Charles looked concerned.
“I guess I should be worried, especially if someone has my cell phone number. It’s not a number I give out to everyone.”
“It’s on your business cards, Mimi.” Charles reminded me.
“Shit, that’s right. Hell, it could be anyone.”
“Does anyone related to this murder have your card?”
“Lauren, Esme, well, I guess she doesn’t count now, Sebastian, Henry, Lauren’s publicist Pat, and I guess Nick.” I couldn’t remember everyone I’d given my card to.
“Give me your phone. We’ll see if it’s your hot boyfriend or not.” Charles grinned. He thought he was so funny.
“One, he’s not my boyfriend. Two, what will I do for a phone?”
He grabbed my phone from by hand before I could react. “It won’t take that long. I’ll have the number traced before you can get through a single pile on this table.”
I looked at the daunting task. No thanks. “Tell you what. You trace the number and I’ll call Manpower to get two or three temps here in the morning. Until then we’ll forget this pile is here. What they don’t get to we’ll work on this weekend.”
“I don’t work weekends.” Charles turned on his expensively loafered heel and left the room.
“Since when?” I yelled after him. He didn’t bother to answer me.
I went to my office and looked up the number for Manpower temp services. I had the number and was dialing it when Jackie walked in. I looked up and put my hand up for her to wait.
My call was short and sweet. They’d have three employees at the office in the morning. Yes!
“How was your day?” I asked Jackie.
She plopped in the chair across from me. “Long. Sorry I didn’t get to help much with the paperwork. I had three appointments today, and I chose to meet the clients at restaurants instead of here. I’ll pad my expense reports.”
“Haha.” Thinking about the state of the office, I said, “Smart.”
“You have a decoy appointment tonight, don’t you?” She raised her brows.
Even though I appreciated the business, I blew out a breath and complained, “Yes.”
“You want me to take it?” She sounded like she wanted me to say no.
“Yes,” I said. Then I added, “No, I need a break from this case. I’ll go. Besides, I had it planned into my schedule today.”
Jackie relaxed. “Good. I haven’t seen my kids in a few days. I was hoping to have dinner with them tonight.”
“Jackie, you need to tell me when you’re taking on too much.” Last thing I needed was to lose a good employee from being overworked.
“You know I’d work any and all hours if you needed it. I don’t get paid for sitting on my butt. We bill by the hour, remember?”
“I’ve got this tonight. You go home and enjoy your kids.” Her kids were a joy. She was lucky.
Jackie stood. “Thanks. Have fun tonight.”
I watched her leave, thinking aloud, “What a sleazy business we’re in.” Then I thought about it. I’d rather stalk cheating spouses than track down murderers any day.
Charles appeared in the doorway. “How many calls did you say you’ve gotten?”
I said, “Three, I think.”
He came all the way into my office. “Are you sure?”
“Give or take,” I said. I wasn’t absolutely sure. “Why?”
“I tracked the incoming calls and there are four different numbers with unknown. Did you get your message from Sebastian?”
“Sebastian? What message?”
Charles put my cell phone on speaker and dialed my voice mail system. After the prerequisite dialing and passwords Sebastian’s voice came on.
“I’ve been thinking about you since you left today. I really need to see you again. Call me.” He left his number and repeated that he really needed to see me.
“How could I have missed that?” I picked up the phone and started to dial.
“Wait,” Charles closed my phone. “His was one of the unknown numbers.”
“Do you think he’s making the calls?” I didn’t believe it.
“I think it’s weird that you got a call, and then immediately after he left this message.”
“Are they the same number?”
“No. But he’s an IT guy. I don’t think he’d be dumb enough to call and threaten you, then call back and leave a message from the same phone.”
Sebastian was no dummy. “Fine. I’ll call and see what he wants.”
Charles waited.
I dialed and noticed it wasn’t the number for Deriw. He answered on the second ring.
“Mimi. Thanks for calling.” He sounded winded.
I kept my voice neutral. “Hi, Sebastian. What did you need?”
Not sounding as self-assured as he had earlier in the day, he said, “I need to see you.”
“What about?” Couldn’t he tell me anything I needed to know over the phone? It’s not like we were talking about National Security here.
“I just need to see you,” he repeated.
This line was getting old. “Look, Sebastian, I’m really busy.”
“Take me off the speaker phone.” He spat the words out.
I did. I picked up the phone. “What?”
“Please, I just want to get together and have drinks. Besides, you weren’t straight with me earlier.”
“Not straight about what?” What could I have possibly lied to him about?
“It’s not important. Meet with me tonight,” he pleaded.
Will the real Sebastian please stand up? His tone wasn’t the secure, “I can have any girl I want” one that he’d had while I was there earlier. It sounded childish and desperate.
“I can’t. I have a previous date tonight.” I did, no matter that my date was a married man that didn’t know he was meeting me.
“Cancel it,” he demanded.
“No, Sebastian. Look, I have to go. I have a lot to do before my date tonight.” Then, to ease his impatience, I said, “Maybe we can get together tomorrow after the Camarilla.”
Eagerly, he said, “That would be great. I can’t wait. I’ll call you.”
I wanted to say, “I’m sure you will.” But I said, “Okay, bye.”
I disconnected. Charles stared at me.
“What was that?”
Still puzzled about the call, I said, “I don’t know. He wanted to get together with me. He sounded desperate.”
“How did your meeting go with him?”
“Well, I told you he gave me the cell phone. He was very open.” I gave Charles the play by play of my conversation with Sebastian, and how it did or didn’t mesh with what Henry told me. I also told him how cocky and flirty Sebastian acted.
“So you think he’s got the hots for you?” Charles wiggled his brows.
Oh, brother, he really wanted me to have a man.
Charles asked, “What’s this about meeting him after the Camarilla?”
Now I needed to be savvy. I had to get Charles to say yes without a fight. I didn’t have time to beg.
“It’s this live role-playing game they play in Santa Cruz.”
“Like Dungeons and Dragons?” He sat on the edge of my desk, curious.
“Sort of, but it’s vampires. Ever heard of the Masquerade?”
“No. Vampires, huh?” He was curious.
“Yeah, Esme was a part of the game, and since our other lead has been wiped out, we’re going to look at the players. Henry and Sebastian are players too. It’s just too good a lead to pass up.”
“Where is the tie-in with Esme’s murder?” Charles sounded skeptical.
So was I, to be honest, but it couldn’t hurt to take a look at how the game worked. “I’m not sure. But Lauren’s books, the sword, and the game are tied to vampires. There has to be some sort of connection.”
Charles raises his brow. “I have to agree.”
Okay, here we go. “You want to come with Nick and me tomorrow night?”
Charles popped up. “Sure. What time?”
“Are you sure?” Charles never wanted to go anywhere. Other than work, he usually stayed home in his cocoon.
“Yes, and don’t ask why,” Charles said.
“I won’t. But you can’t change your mind. Nick wants you to go in and act like you’re a reporter. Take pictures, ask questions, you know.” Here was the rub, and I knew he’d change his mind.
“You want me to bring our digital camera from the office?” His cooperation was really out of character and puzzled me.
“Okay, what gives? You have never agreed to go out without asking if you’re getting paid for it. And now you just say, ‘Okay, you want me to bring the digital?’”
“I didn’t say it that way. And if Nick’s going along, why would I argue about it?” Charles winked.
“Nick is not your type. Besides, he’s a little old for your taste.” Charles was usually interested in the All-American look. Come to think of it, sans tattoos, Sebastian would be right on target. Too bad Sebastian liked girls.
“I’ll find out what’s up between you two. And if you won’t talk, maybe Nick will.”
I groaned. Now I was sorry I asked. My secrecy was about to bite me in the ass.
CHAPTER 15
I was at the CV Ranch by seven o’clock. CV Ranch is a resort and conference hotel that sits several miles down in the valley from Highway 1. The view from the hotel overlooks a stunning view of the resort’s golf course, and when the sun is setting it’s a sight to behold. No wonder people from all over the country, and the world, planned their business conferences here.
There was something about business and golf. Most of the conference hotels in the Monterey Bay area were affiliated with a golf course. But they also had great bars. The bar at CV Ranch had an open floor plan. The white walls were capped with a wood-slatted, vaulted ceiling and open concrete beams. The décor featured clean, straight lines with upholstered white bar stools, black-and-green seating, and ivory tables. Seating was arranged for groups of four or more, and each area had its own low table. I sat at the bar, waiting and sipping my drink.
Here’s how the decoy thing works. This one in particular was referred by another detective agency. The woman hired the company to see if her husband was cheating on her while traveling. Since his travels brought him to California, it’s cheaper and easier for that company to hire a subcontractor, and the two businesses split the fee. It’s not as much money as it would be if it were my client, but if I ever have a client in their neck of the woods, they reciprocate.
Acme Detective Agency set up the gig. They sent me several photos of the man I’m to interact with, and the information on his whereabouts. There may be a chance I don’t even see the husband, but with most business conferen
ces, they all end up in the bar after the last meeting. I knew the last meeting ended at five, and they were having a group dinner. I figured they’d hit the bar for drinks by seven, seven-thirty.
The man I was looking for, Albert Niess, was six feet tall with a medium build. From his photos he looked handsome enough, but not “ooh la la” handsome. Albert would be easily recognized. The hardest part of the gig was to not call the man by his name until he told it to me. I wish I didn’t know it ahead time, but it keeps me from hitting on the wrong guy.
The bartender knew me and thought what I did was similar to being a hooker. I took offense at first, but in a way it was true. Only I didn’t have to have sex with the man in order to get my money. I’ve been called worse, especially the time I led the husband to think we were going to do it right there in the bathroom of the bar. I flirted and touched, and flaunted my goods, then said, “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to fuck in the bathroom?” It sounds crude, but men love that kind of talk. He agreed. And when we walked into the bathroom, with his hands all over me and trying to kiss me, his wife was standing at the sink. I think he peed his pants.
The wife calmly walked out. I innocently asked, “Who was that? And what was she doing in the men’s room?” He stood stunned for a moment, then said, “You bitch, you fucking set me up.” He lifted his hand to smack me, and then got another surprise. I don’t take well to violence, and before he knew what had happened, he was face down on the floor, on his belly. I placed my knee in the center of his back and whispered in his ear. “I’m not the bad guy here, you are.” Then I left him. The wife filed for divorce the next day.
Yes, it’s a sleazy business, but someone has to do it. And in reality, it’s only a small portion of our income. Most of our jobs are for people cheating their employer or insurance company. So next time you complain about high insurance rates, you can thank the low-life that cheats the company out of money by filing a fraudulent claim. My job is to keep that from happening. My rates are high, but not nearly as high as the cost of fraud each year.
Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries Boxed Set (3 Books) Page 13
