Angel shrugged. “He said he had heard about me at the casino. I was promoting my business there. The Silky Men wear my lingerie and promote it as well.”
“I see. And did you give out your address?”
She shook her head. “Phone number on my business card, but it wouldn’t be that hard to find my address.”
Vance frowned. “Something’s not adding up. Why you? According to Daystar security, they believe that Zack Quinn stole the necklace, based on the victim’s story that she picked Zack up for a night of sex. She had the necklace on when they went up to her room, and it was gone when she woke up from a deep, probably drug-induced, sleep.”
I frowned. “It makes sense to me. Zack is the obvious suspect, so he had to find another way to get the necklace out of the casino, in case the victim woke up too soon and he was caught. So he paid someone to pose as an entrepreneur and pass the necklace in a sex-toy kit.”
With a deadpan stare, Vance asked, “Then what? Run to Angel’s house and steal the necklace back? That’s too risky. Too many things could go wrong. And why Angel? How did they know about her lingerie business? Could they be sure she’d accept the sex-toy kit? It’d be much easier just to pay this Mitch St. Claire to walk the necklace out of the casino and meet him somewhere later.”
Crap. There was a reason Vance was a detective, while I only worked part-time for my PI boyfriend. Or at least I had worked part-time with Gabe until he had hired an assistant.
Angel said, “But the fact is that Mitch did give me a sex-toy kit with a diamond necklace in it. What’s your explanation, Detective?”
Vance shifted his gaze beyond me to Angel. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Had you and Sam told me that a man gave you a sex-toy kit at Daystar the day Sam thought you were missing, we might have the answers right now.”
“I forgot! It didn’t even cross my mind.” Lord, I felt stupid.
Vance closed his notebook and faced me. “Unless Zack paid the two of you to get the necklace out of the casino for him. And when you found Angel missing, you thought he’d kidnapped her because the two of you were double crossing him. That would be an excellent reason to not mention the sex-toy kit to me.” He stood up.
I jumped to my feet. “That’s stupid! Angel and I didn’t even know the diamond necklace was in there. Why would I call you and tell you I had it this morning, then?”
He shook his head. “Hell if I know, Shaw. I’m just a dumb cop.” He closed the distance between us. “But if you want to keep your ass out of jail, then you call me the second you hear from Zoë. Then I’ll . . .” He trailed off as he realized that he was the very person Zoë was trying so hard to find.
“You’ll what?” I demanded. I was not going to be threatened by Vance. “Autograph her collection of R.V. Logan books? Give her a bookmark? Dedicate a book to her?”
His jaw tightened. “I’ll send a uniform to get the necklace from her.” Then he added, “My writing never interferes with my job as a cop, Shaw. I do my job.”
“Then find Zoë.”
“Do you have her full name? Address? Phone number? Place of employment?”
I blinked, seeing the problem. “The name she gave me is Zoë Cash. She’s taller than I am, with black hair and brown eyes. Big-time into yoga and romance reading.” I struggled to think of something that would help. I didn’t even know if Zoë lived in Lake Elsinore or had come here to find me, and, ultimately, R. V. Logan. “Wait . . . she said she had just been to a romance convention. Romance Rocks magazine holds a convention every year. Zoë knew who I was from the reviews in that magazine, so I’m sure it’s their convention. Maybe you can find out more about her through that.” Somehow.
“That’s all?” Vance drilled home his disgust with his stare.
“I wasn’t interrogating her, Vance! I was trying to help you by getting rid of her.”
“You just never get it right, do you, Shaw?” He turned and left.
Angel stood up next to me. “He’s not going to help us.”
I hadn’t even left my house yet and the day was a complete disaster. “I should call Gabe. He told me to call him if there was a problem with turning the necklace over to Vance.” I headed toward my kitchen phone.
Angel passed by me and went to the coffeepot. “And tell him what, Sam?”
With the phone in my hand, I watched Angel get down a coffee mug and fill it up. “That a crazy romance fan stole the necklace.” Then I admitted, “That probably doesn’t happen to a lot of people.” I hung up the phone. With Dee in the picture, hell, with the picture Dee had taken of me the night before, when she had caught Angel and me snooping through Gabe’s office, I wasn’t excited to tell Gabe my latest failure.
Angel went to the refrigerator and pulled out the milk. “Let’s try to find Zoë first. The two of us can outsmart that lunatic. We’ll get the necklace back.” She poured some milk in her coffee, then put the milk carton away.
I stood by the phone and thought out loud. “Once we take the necklace to Vance, he’ll believe us. Then he’ll concentrate on finding Zack so that you are safe.” That made sense. “I’m sure Zoë took that box to blackmail me. I mean, she’s really focused on finding R. V. Logan. If she was working with Zack, she’d have taken the sex-toy kit the first time she saw it.” I knew she’d seen it at Heart Mates the day I was painting and again the day before, when Angel and I were getting ready to look at it.
Angel took a sip of her coffee. “So how do we find her?”
“She usually finds me.” Think! What had Zoë told me? Any hints as to where she might be? “She went to the skate park last night.” How could that help us? “Wait!” I ran down the hallway to my bedroom. Once in there, I went to my desk, snatched up my Rolodex phone tree, and hurried back out to the dining room. “I can call around my phone tree and see if anyone in here knows anything about Zoë.”
Before Angel could answer, the phone rang.
I picked it up. “Hello?”
“Boss,” Blaine said, “there’s a line of people waiting to sign up at Heart Mates. What are the chances of you making an appearance?”
Work. Heart Mates. Ignoring Blaine’s sarcasm, I asked, “A line? Really? How did that happen?”
“Word on the street is that we have signed a sizzling hot fireman who is looking for love. Four women want to sign up before the open house tomorrow night so they can come to the preparty mixer for our clients. Strangely enough, they are expecting to see you here.”
Wow. Talk about a fast gossip grapevine. Excited, I answered, “OK, I’ll be there. I’m leaving right now.” I hung up. Then I looked at Angel.
Nothing like being torn between my best friend, work, and that nagging feeling that I should call Gabe. “Let’s take the phone tree to work. We can make calls from there.”
Angel finished off her coffee and took the cup to the sink. “Maybe Zoë’s there already, waiting for you.”
“Ha, we should get so lucky.” But just in case, I grabbed the can of pepper spray that I’d left on the dining room table and stuck it in my purse. One way or another, Zoë was going to give me that sex-toy kit with the diamond necklace back.
Blaine was on the phone when Angel and I got to Heart Mates, saying, “Yes, ma’am, we did recently add a fireman to our client list.” He looked at me and winked. “We can set you up with an interview today at ten o’clock. Will that work for you?”
I turned to the right. The old metal folding chairs in the little waiting area were empty. Where were the potential clients? Let’s see, all I had to do that day was interview possible new clients. Find the crazy romance fan who stole the missing diamond necklace in a vibrator so I could prove to Vance that Angel and I had nothing to do with the burglary of the necklace. Find Zack before he found Angel again. And get Heart Mates ready for the open house the next night. How hard could it be?
I heard Blaine hang up. I turned around with a questioning look.
“The new clients are in the interview room, boss.
I put in the advertising videotape we made for tomorrow night and let them preview it. I’m still putting the finishing touches on it.”
Dang, Blaine was good. I’d never have thought of that. “Great.” I held out my hand. “Do you have their interview sheets?”
“Right here.” He reached to the side of his desk and picked up four clipboards. “Oh, and Gabe faxed over the clearance for our fireman.”
When had he done that? Busy boy, my Gabe. “Good.” I turned to Angel. “Why don’t you go in my office and start calling anyone you know on my phone tree to see if they know anything about Zoë. I’ll clear out these interviews and be right in to help you.”
Angel took the Rolodex from me.
“Boss?”
I had started reading through the first potential client and said, “Hmm?” Abby Rochester. Divorced . . .
“Don’t you want to see the clearance that Gabe sent over?”
Looking up from the interview sheet, I took in Blaine’s bland expression. He looked the same as ever. The front of his brown hair was feathered with the length pulled back into a ponytail. Thick neck, average face. Wore a blue work shirt. All looked normal except that his mouth twitched. “Why?”
“Gabe has a new business stationery.”
“So?” Oh crap. Maybe he had listed Dee as his new assistant or something. I held out my hand. “Let me see it.”
Blaine picked up the fax sheet from his desk and handed it to me.
I looked down and saw a picture of myself centered at the top of the page. It was the picture Dee had taken the night before in Gabe’s home office. My wild, shoulder length, blonde-streaked hair matched the wide-eyed shock in my eyes and tight pull to my mouth. The stained white button-down shirt made me look like I had rolled in the mud days ago. Worst of all, I was holding the large envelope I’d taken from Gabe’s desk and looked guilty. “Pulizzi’s Security and Investigative Services. When you need the real thing, not a TV-sitcom knockoff.” The air evaporated out of my lungs.
Angel leaned in, read over my shoulder, and burst out laughing.
I looked at Blaine. “Get that smile off your face! How many places do you think Gabe sent this to?”
His smile widened. “He sent me a download of the picture in my e-mail. No telling where-all Gabe has sent the picture.”
“Men.” They think they are so funny. I smacked the stack of four clipboards down and went to the coffeemaker at the end of Blaine’s desk. “He probably only sent it to you,” I glanced up at Blaine. “Gabe wouldn’t hurt my business.” Or I didn’t think he would.
“Dee might,” Angel pointed out.
I filled my heart-stamped mug with coffee. “True, and she might be the type to hold a grudge for getting locked in the closet.”
Blaine bounced his gaze between Angel and me, then settled on me. “Who is Dee and what did you do?”
Holding my cup of coffee, I snagged the clipboards. “Angel can fill you in. I’m going to see if the ladies would like to do a group interview or do one at a time. I have a business to run.” Trying to look dignified, I opened the door to the interview room and went in.
I was just finishing up the interviews with my four new clients when Blaine stuck his head in. “Boss, Zoë’s on the phone for you. She’s says it’s urgent and you will want to take the call.”
I jumped up. Things were looking up. All four ladies had signed on for Heart Mates dating packages and Zoë was calling. As soon as I found out where she was hiding, I was making a phone call to Vance and saving Angel’s and my butts. “Thanks, Blaine! Can you take it from here? The ladies have picked the dating packages they want and would like to do a videotape for potential dates to view.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but I was desperate to get to the phone before Zoë hung up.
“Got it covered.” Then he turned to the ladies, smiled, and said, “We could do a group interview video . . .”
His voice trailed off as I shut the door. I didn’t want to lose any more seconds going to my office, so I grabbed the handset from the phone off Blaine’s desk. “Zoë!”
In my ear, Zoë said, “Samantha, I have something of yours, even if it is kinky. Fake diamonds in a vibrator? You’d think a woman who reads romance novels would have better taste.”
Angel came out of my office and sat on the end of Blaine’s desk while I said into the phone, “Zoë, listen, that necklace isn’t—”
Zoë cut me off. “I’m done playing nice, Samantha. If you ever want another diamond-laced orgasm again, tell me R. V. Logan’s real name and address and I’ll return your sex toys. I’ll call back in five minutes.” The phone disconnected. I pulled it away from my ear and stared at the handset.
Angel asked, “What did she say?”
I looked at her. “She said she’ll trade the sex-toy kit with the necklace for R. V. Logan’s real name and address. She’ll call back in five minutes. The woman is crazy.” I slammed the handset down. “She has no idea what she has. She thinks the diamond necklace is fake.” Disgusted, I walked out from behind Blaine’s desk and into my office. I got my purse out and found Vance’s business card.
Angel came in just as I picked up my phone. She asked, “What are you doing?”
“Calling Vance.” That way he could be ready once I had a place to meet Zoë.
Angel reached across my desk to the base of the phone and hung up. “No. You and I will meet Zoë, give her what she wants, then we will take the necklace to Vance. If Zoë sees the cops coming, she’ll run.”
She was crazy enough. God. “Vance can send a plainclothes or—”
“You didn’t get a phone number, Sam. So you’ll have to set up a meeting anyway. Then the police would scare her off. Wackos like Zoë can smell cops. Listen, Sam,” Angel said while keeping her finger on the hang-up button. “No one I called this morning knows who Zoë is. I don’t think she lives in Lake Elsinore. If she rabbits, we’ll never see her again. Zack’s not going to believe that someone stole the necklace from us. We’re in deep shit here.”
She was right. If Zoë took off, we were toast. What would Gabe do? He’d probably set up some kind of sting. Why couldn’t Angel and I do the same thing? The two of us should be able to outsmart one psycho stalker-fan. I pointed out the one flaw that I could see with her plan. “But we can’t give her Vance’s name and address. We already have enough problems without pissing off Vance more. Who do we tell her R. V. Logan is?”
Angel smiled. The first smile I’d seen that day. “I have the perfect candidate. We’ll tell her that Hugh is R. V. Logan.”
I choked on the very idea of Angel’s ex-husband writing a romance novel. “Hugh?”
“Sure. Once we give her the name and get the sex-toy kit back, it won’t matter how fast she figures out we lied.”
When the phone rang again, I snatched it up. “Zoë?”
“Well? Are you ready to deal?”
I fought down a wave of sheer, butt-kicking anger. At first I hadn’t been too sure of Angel’s plan. But now I was ready to take on Zoë Cash. “Yes. I have what you want.”
“Tell me R. V. Logan’s name and address.”
“No way, Zoë. I’ll meet with you and exchange the information for my stuff. Do you know where Smash Coffee is?”
“You are trying my patience, Samantha.” I heard clicking noises in the background, then, “Is that a coffee shop that’s located on Grape Street?”
I guessed that Zoë was on a computer, surfing the Internet to find Smash Coffee. I’d seen Grandpa do that. “Yes. In the Wal-Mart shopping center. Be there in a half hour.”
“Fine. But you’d better have what I want, or you’ll never get your sex toys back.” She hung up.
Angel looked up at me. “I’ll drive.”
Angel parked her Trans Am in front of Smash Coffee and we got out of the car. I glanced in the backseat. “Angel, maybe you should roll up the windows and lock the car.” She had stacks of white folded towels neatly lined up on the seats.
Angel went
around the front of the car. “It’s locked, and I have the alarm on. Besides, who would steal plain white towels for a beauty shop? I took those out of my mom’s dryer at her house last night. She must have forgotten she brought them home to wash before she left for the cruise. I’ll drop them off at the shop later today in case they are running low.”
I followed Angel into Smash Coffee. Inside, it had the look of an outdoor patio. The walls were painted a light pecan color and trimmed with glossy white molding. Leafy green plants trailed along the ceiling and the top of the walls to create a sort of jungle effect. The floors had a rough-finish tile that matched the pecan walls. Glass-topped, wrought-iron tables and cushioned chairs were scattered on the left side of the shop.
The right side of the shop had a long counter that rested on several clear glass containers of coffee beans. Behind the counter were rows of sparkling machines, presumably for grinding and making coffee. On the end of the counter stood a nose-high glass bakery case filled with breads and pastries.
My stomach growled.
“Samantha! Angel!” Dominic Danger called over his shoulder. He turned on a noisy machine, then took the tall silver container out and filled a Smash Coffee cup. When he turned to face us, he flashed a smile that advertised his white teeth in his tanned face.
“Hi, Dom.” I looked over at the tables while Angel chatted with Dom. There was a group of four women dressed in work-out clothes, chatting together. They had the worn, sweaty look that suggested they’d done some kind of exercise. Ugh.
A man in jeans and a T-shirt read the paper. He looked familiar. He raised his head and we both recognized each other at the same time. Fireman Bob. I smiled and did a little wave, trying not to think about him looking up my skirt. At least I had my black jeans on today—he couldn’t look up those.
“Samantha, what would you like?” Dom called out. “How about my new Brownie Blaze?”
I didn’t see Zoë. Turning to Dom, I smiled. “I think I have enough of a brownie butt. How about black coffee?”
Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required Page 15
