Then something great happened. I spotted Ty coming out of Jeanette’s office. He looked terrific in his Armani suit. My heart did that little flip-flop and my belly felt kind of gooey, just like they did every time I saw him. I didn’t know he’d be here today, so this was a great surprise.
Ty spotted me and walked over. He looked intense, but Ty almost always looked that way. His expression would melt any second now, as soon as he got closer.
I pictured it in my head.
We’ll have a private moment. He’ll lean down and whisper in my ear—just like he did with Sarah, only not as far because I’m enviably taller—something about how great it is to see me, how he misses me, how he wants the two of us to try and recapture that really hot moment in his apartment last fall before—
“The detectives are here,” Ty said.
Hmm. Not exactly what I’d expected to hear, but that’s okay. This was a public place, after all, and we were both at work. Having an intimate conversation wouldn’t be appropriate.
I was surprised that Detectives Madison and Shuman were here again. I thought they’d completed their investigation at the store yesterday.
Ty leaned down a little and lowered his voice. “They want to talk to you. Privately.”
What?
“They think you know something about yesterday that you’re not telling them,” Ty said.
My throat constricted.
His brows drew together. “You don’t know anything that you haven’t told them, do you, Haley?”
I gulped hard, trying desperately for my innocent look.
“I know you’re nervous, but don’t worry.” Ty grasped my arm. “I’ll go with in you, and I’ll stay right beside you the entire time.”
Oh, crap.
Chapter 4
Ty looked down at me, exuding comfort and concern. I’d never gotten that look from him before, and it was nice—or it would have been if there was any way possible I could have been comforted at this particular moment.
Still holding my arm, Ty turned and we headed toward Jeanette’s office, only to stop again. Troy and four other guys blocked the aisle. They were young, like Troy, and worked in the men’s department with him.
Troy’s mouth hung open a bit, and all of them stared and seemed to be breathing kind of hard.
“Hey, Haley,” Troy said, then snorted.
The other guys clustered around him leaned forward a bit, eyes wide, jaws slack. They all yucked a goofy laugh, and kept gawking at me.
What was wrong with those guys?
Ty and I moved around them, down the aisle toward Jeanette’s office.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
I couldn’t go in there. I couldn’t. What was I going to tell the detectives? How would I explain what happened? Especially with Ty standing right next to me?
I sure could use a Snickers bar right now.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I need to ask you something,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t see that I was stalling.
Should I just bolt? Jump in my car and disappear, never to be heard from again?
That might make me look guilty.
Ty was still watching me. I was still getting the concerned look. I had to say something.
“Yesterday when I called you about Claudia’s death, why didn’t you call me back?” I asked.
Ty shrugged. “I’d already heard the news from Sarah.”
“Yeah, but I left a message saying it was an emergency. Weren’t you concerned that something had happened to me?”
“I knew nothing had happened to you. You called me.”
Oh. Yeah, right, I did. And it made sense, just like everything that involved Ty. But what if I’d called from the emergency room? What if I was down to my last breath?
I would have asked Ty both those questions, but he’d already walked away. He opened the door to Jeanette’s office, swinging it wide so I had no choice but to go inside.
I felt like I was walking into the principal’s office.
Detective Madison sat behind Jeanette’s desk. Shuman stood behind him, off to the right.
I liked Shuman. We had a little thing going. Nothing romantic—but maybe there could be. He had a girlfriend who worked at the D.A.’s office that he was crazy about. I liked that about him. I helped their relationship along last fall, and he helped me with those murder charges. An even exchange, I think.
“So, Miss Randolph,” Detective Madison said, giving me a snarky grin. “You again.”
I took the chair in front of the desk and Ty sat beside me. Why was he in here? Why did he pick now, of all times, to be the concerned boyfriend?
“Just like old times, huh?” Detective Madison reared back in the chair. “You, me, a murder victim.”
“Claudia was murdered?” I asked. I figured she probably was, but this delayed his questioning a little.
“Poisoned,” Madison declared.
I turned to Ty and touched his hand.
“This will be hard for you to hear,” I said, managing to sound compassionate. “You should wait outside.”
“I’m fine,” he told me.
“No, really, I insist,” I said.
Ty ignored me and asked the detective, “What sort of poison?”
Shuman checked his notes. “The lab is still working on the tox screen.”
“So you’re investigating the caterer?” I asked.
I hated to throw Marilyn what’s-her-name in front of the bus, but the police probably already had her at the top of their list.
“Right now,” Detective Madison said, looking smug and pointing a stubby finger at me, “we’re investigating you.”
“Me?” I exclaimed. I tried for innocent outrage, but didn’t quite pull it off.
“What can you tell us about yesterday?” Shuman asked.
“Nothing.” Okay, that sounded kind of guilty.
“Nothing?” Madison snorted a laugh. “Well, let me tell you something about yesterday. You were seen entering the loading dock.”
That fat cow Rita must have ratted me out.
“Even though you knew the stockroom and store were off-limits,” Madison added. “And you were seen at the caterer’s food station, messing around with those fruit bouquets.”
Oh my God. Oh my God. The fruit bouquets—Mom’s fruit bouquets. I didn’t want to tell Madison they were from my mom’s business. He’d be all over that. I couldn’t let him drag her into a murder investigation.
“I was just checking them out,” I explained. “I thought I recognized the caterer. Marilyn something-or-other.”
I’m dying for a Snickers bar now.
“So the caterer can vouch for you?” Shuman asked, his pen poised over his notebook.
This wasn’t good. This definitely was not good. The caterer couldn’t vouch for me because she hadn’t even known I was there.
So what could I say but, “Sure?”
“Nobody saw you during the luncheon,” Madison told me. “You want to explain where you were?”
I couldn’t explain. Not now. Not in front of Ty. I couldn’t admit to all the problems I’d caused—which hadn’t seemed like such a big deal at the time—and have everybody know what I’d done. The reasons—which were perfectly logical yesterday—seemed pretty lame right now.
“You were seen on the video surveillance tape going into the loading dock,” Madison said. “But you weren’t seen again until after Claudia Gray was murdered. Surveillance tape doesn’t lie.”
Damn that videotape. I always forgot about it.
“Well, Miss Randolph?” Madison sneered, like he knew I didn’t have a good explanation.
Shuman looked at me weird now. So did Ty.
Where was Sarah Covington? She was always interrupting Ty. Why couldn’t she show up the one time I needed her?
I had to tell them something. What sort of explanation could I give? Alien encounter? Out-of-body experience? Cramps?
“Okay, well, when I was in
the loading dock, I heard a noise—a strange noise—in the stockroom,” I said. It didn’t come off as a total lie, which I was thankful for.
Detective Shuman leaned forward a bit, as if I were about to reveal something significant. Madison looked disappointed that I might.
“What sort of noise?” Madison demanded.
“Don’t get all excited,” I told him. “I’m not going to solve this case for you, too.”
Shuman stifled a laugh and Madison narrowed his already beady eyes at me. I could only imagine the flak Madison had taken, after what had happened last fall.
“It was kittens,” I announced. “I heard kittens in the stockroom, so I went to investigate.”
Okay, it was possible. I’d seen birds flying around in one of those home improvement stores, and once I’d seen a stray dog that had gotten into the food court at the Grove shopping center.
“Kittens,” Madison repeated, not bothering to hide his doubt.
Shuman looked at me really weird now. So did Ty.
“A big party going on outside, food, a fashion show, a prize raffle, and you’re in the stockroom the whole time, looking for kittens,” Madison said.
“I’m an animal lover,” I told him. “I’ve been in parades and everything.”
“So, where are these kittens now?” Madison wanted to know.
I rolled my eyes as if the answer should be obvious—I was getting really good at this police questioning thing—and said, “I couldn’t find them. That’s why I was in the stockroom the entire time.”
“Until you heard screams coming from the store?” Shuman asked.
“Exactly.”
I could feel Ty glaring at me. I didn’t dare look at him.
“Well, then,” Madison declared, “maybe we need to get Animal Control out here and find those kittens.”
I could seriously kill someone for a Snickers bar right now.
“Maybe we need to keep the store shut down until we find them,” Madison said.
No, no, no!
“Not so fast,” Ty said. “Look, Detective, I’ve cooperated with you throughout this entire investigation, but I will not allow this store to be closed another day. Not for a litter of kittens.”
“They’re probably gone now, anyway,” Shuman said. “After all the chaos yesterday, the mom moved them.”
Madison looked as if he wanted to murder him for speaking up. I could have kissed him.
I popped out of my chair while I had the chance.
“I have to get to work,” I said.
Ty got up when I did. I guess he was antsy about sitting there any longer. He hadn’t been on his cell phone for a good ten minutes.
He opened the door and there stood Sarah Covington. She looked right through me. The two of them drew together as if they were magnetized and moved down the hallway a few feet, Sarah talking low and urgently, Ty listening carefully.
You’d think since she was a vice president she could make a decision or two on her own, without dragging Ty into every little thing that came along. I was thinking she just made up problems to take to him.
“I know about Claudia Gray and your boyfriend,” Detective Madison called.
How had he found out so quickly that Ty and Claudia used to date?
I turned and saw Madison still seated at Jeanette’s desk, still watching me, still looking smug. I guess he expected me to go back into the office, after hearing that comment. But no way was I getting close to him again.
Madison smirked. “Claudia was quite the looker. On the covers of all the big magazines. Appearing at those fashion shows. Everybody probably wondered what Cameron saw in you.”
My stomach jerked into a knot and my cheeks heated up.
Madison hoisted himself out of the desk chair and walked over to me.
“You must have wondered the same thing yourself,” he added, looking me up and down.
I knew he was comparing me to Claudia, and I wished I could say it didn’t matter. But it did. I knew how gorgeous she was. I didn’t need Madison to tell me I didn’t measure up.
“So, maybe you decided to do something about it,” he suggested, leaning closer. “Maybe you decided to get rid of the old girlfriend before Cameron came to his senses and realized what a mistake he’d made.”
Breath went out of me. My cheeks flamed.
“Maybe you heard the same thing that I heard,” Madison said, moving even closer. “That the two of them were getting back together.”
I gulped, stunned. I knew the shock showed on my face because the detective grinned sadistically.
“Sounds like a motive for murder to me,” he said, looking altogether pleased with himself.
Madison chuckled and walked out of the office. Shuman followed, but I couldn’t even look at him. I grasped the door casing trying to hold myself up.
People thought I wasn’t good enough for Ty. That didn’t surprise me. All anyone had to do was look at Claudia and me. She was stunning and, as my ex-beauty-queen mom had often said, I was merely pretty.
I couldn’t compete with Claudia in the looks department. But that’s not why Ty was attracted to me. He said his grandmother thought I had spirit, and he liked the way I’d told him the truth about how awful Holt’s clothing was, and that I—I…
I got a yucky feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why did Ty want to date me?
I thought back and realized he’d never really said. I mean, I could think of a million reasons he’d want to date me, but what had Ty actually said?
Then my stomach started feeling really yucky. Was Detective Madison telling me the truth? Had Ty been getting back together with Claudia?
A zillion thoughts flew through my mind. Ty canceling our dates, being late for our dates, talking on the phone through our dates. Always distracted, supposedly consumed with business. Plus, we hadn’t slept together yet.
I looked down the hallway. Ty and Sarah had split up, both of them on their cell phones. I’m not big on suspense, so I headed toward Ty, ready to ask him exactly what was going on.
But as I passed Sarah, two words she said caught my attention: “Ty” and “Europe.”
I froze behind her, blatantly listening to her conversation. She slapped her phone closed a few seconds later and opened her Louis Vuitton organizer.
“Ty…Ty’s going to Europe?” I managed to ask.
“For several weeks,” Sarah said, frantically flipping pages.
My heart sank.
Ty was going to Europe for several weeks. And he’d never even told me.
Chapter 5
It was a Fendi day. Definitely a Fendi day.
The January weather was fabulous, as always in the Golden State, as I walked along Wilshire Boulevard. Shirtsleeve weather, as my father’s relatives from back East like to say, on the rare occasions when they can tolerate my mother long enough to visit. They’re always impressed by it while I, a native, take it for granted. I freely admit to being a California-weather wimp. Extreme heat, cold, or humidity and I freak out.
I’d selected the Fendi bag this morning because it so perfectly complemented the Chanel suit I had on—the kind I used to wear every day before last fall—and I needed to present just the right image. Facing down a vice president at the prestigious, old-money Golden State Bank & Trust would take some finesse—something I’m a little short on, but hey, that’s what the Fendi and Chanel were for.
A reverent hush hung over the lobby of the GSB&T as I walked through the big glass door. It was exquisitely appointed in rich dark wood, sumptuous leather furniture, and fine artwork. Their branch offices that spread out across the West offered a more contemporary look, catering to the masses. But here at their main office, old money, good taste, and quiet sophistication reigned supreme. It was sort of like being in someone’s rich grandmother’s house.
The bank’s greeter, a young woman wearing a gray skirt, a navy blue blazer, and a necktie, for some reason, approached.
“Good morning, ma’am,” she said
quietly, giving me the GSB&T smile called for in their customer care handbook, no doubt. “How may I assist you?”
I hoisted my Louis Vuitton organizer—a surprise gift from Ty, which proved he was crazy about me, didn’t it?—so she could see it and be jealous.
“I’m here to see Bradley,” I told her, managing to sound as if calling unannounced on a vice president at the B & T were the most routine of events.
“Is Mr. Olsen expecting you?” the greeter asked.
“No,” I told her, giving her an eyebrow bob that indicated making an appointment was oh so far beneath me.
I may not have gotten my mom’s looks, but I can summon her I’m-better-than-you gene when I need it.
And I needed it today. I didn’t know if Bradley Olsen’s secretary would schedule an appointment for me if I called—I’m pretty sure my picture, with a red circle and a line drawn through it, was plastered next to her telephone—but I figured if I showed up, he wouldn’t refuse to see me.
The Golden State Bank & Trust had gotten caught up in that whole mess last fall, and while you’d think Bradley Olsen would be grateful that their involvement was settled quietly—meaning no lawsuit or unseemly publicity—I just didn’t know how he’d feel about being reminded of the whole thing. When I’d brought Evelyn in here before Christmas to open that account with my settlement money, Mr. Olsen didn’t seem all that glad to see me.
“Tell him Haley Randolph is here,” I told the greeter. “And Ty Cameron will be joining us momentarily.”
Ty wasn’t coming—he didn’t even know I was here—but what was the point of having a sort-of boyfriend if you couldn’t use him, occasionally?
The customer greeter must have recognized the Cameron name as one of their biggest and oldest depositors—I think their account number is “one”—because she invited me to be seated, offered to bring me coffee, then took off. As I’d discovered last fall, the B & T was anxious to make the Camerons happy.
A moment later, the customer greeter returned and escorted me though the silent corridors, the heels of my Jimmy Choos clicking on the marble floor, and into Bradley Olsen’s well-appointed office.
Purses and Poison Page 4
