Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak

by Christy Barritt

  But I was going to embrace each moment, I reminded myself. None of this dwelling on the past. I’m moving forward.

  The limo slowed. I peered out the window. There was no light, no stop sign. This couldn’t be the hotel and convention center.

  The car lurched slightly, as if being put in park.

  I was both curious and on edge. What was going on?

  I slid toward the front and tapped at the divider window, hoping the driver would open the slider and explain himself.

  The next thing I knew, my door opened. I started toward it but before I reached my exit, a man rushed inside the limo.

  He wore a mask. I could only see his eyes. They looked cold.

  Fear rushed through me, clawing at the sanity I’d just earlier been determined to grasp. The door shut, and the man’s hand pressed into my mouth, squelching any screams before they could escape.

  I kicked, flailed. I’d vowed to never go to this place in my life again. This place of terror.

  The man seemed experienced, in control. He was no amateur. In one motion, he’d pinned my arms, my legs.

  “Don’t make this hard,” he whispered.

  His face was only inches from mine. His eyes were intense. And they were focused on me.

  Finally, I stopped struggling. For a moment, at least.

  Maybe I’d jinxed myself when I’d mentally declared my imminent fate would have something to do with a car. Because here I was again. In danger. Because of a car.

  “There. You might as well make this a little easier,” he said approvingly. “Digging up graves will only make a mess of things.”

  I tried to say something, but it only came out as “Mwah blwa maba, mab boo.”

  “Promise not to scream?”

  I nodded, unsure if I’d keep that promise. However, I had no doubt that he’d make me pay if I didn’t.

  He lowered his hand.

  “You’re the man from the phone, aren’t you?” I whispered.

  “Smart girl.”

  “Did you follow me here to Cincinnati? Was that you?”

  Something flickered in his gaze. “No.”

  “So, you’re working with someone else.” The thought wasn’t comforting. “How do you know my every move? I don’t understand.”

  “I have my ways. Let’s leave it at that.”

  I tried to pull back, but I couldn’t. “Why do you want me off this case so badly?”

  “I can’t tell you that. But for your safety, stay away.”

  “Have you threatened every investigator like this? Because there have been a lot.”

  “Enough questions. I’m sorry I’m having to go to such extreme measures, but you don’t like listening. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  With that, he sprayed something in my face. Then everything went black.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you okay?” a deep voice asked.

  “Someone call the police!” a shrill sounding woman shouted.

  “What happened to her?” someone else mumbled.

  I slowly pulled my eyes open, unsure what I was waking up to. I blinked several times until my vision came into focus.

  I was sprawled in an alley. A man in a uniform stared at me. Not a police uniform. More like a … chef? A couple of other people stood around me, their eyes wide with curiosity.

  The catering staff, I realized.

  I pressed my hands into the gritty sidewalk beneath me.

  My conversation with the man in the limo flashed back to me. My cheeks flushed as everything rushed into my mind. I straightened my dress and tried to collect myself amidst the stares.

  “Where am I exactly?” I pushed myself up on my elbows, causing a dull pain to pulse through my head.

  “Service entrance behind the convention center,” the chef started. “We found you passed out back here.”

  A few people stopped watching and continued to carry boxes in through the door. The scent of fish and boiling potatoes drifted outside.

  “Passed out?” I rubbed my head and stood up. A stranger grabbed my elbow and helped me balance.

  The man from the limo must have dumped me here. How long had I been out? What had he given me?

  I did a quick evaluation of myself. Apparently, the crowd was all either waiting to see if I was okay or for a great story to pass on to family and friends over dinner. I really hoped this didn’t turn up on YouTube. I didn’t appear to be harmed. Just confused.

  “Can someone get Garrett Mercer? Please.”

  One man nodded and hurried into the building.

  “We didn’t call the police.” The chef leaned closer and lowered his voice. “We’re trying to be discrete. I’m not sure this gala is the best place for you in your current condition.”

  “My current condition?” I realized what he was implying and my lips parted in shock. “I’m not doing drugs. I was drugged.”

  The kitchen staff glanced at each other. They obviously didn’t believe me. Making matters worse was the fact that other people were beginning to peer down the alley to see what all of the commotion was about.

  The main chef guy nodded, but I could tell he didn’t believe me.

  Thankfully, Garrett stepped out from the back door and rushed toward me. Wrinkles of worry stretched across his forehead and his normal jovial expression was nowhere to be found.

  “Gabby? What happened?” His gaze jerked to the street. “Where’s the car I sent to pick you up?”

  I rubbed my neck. “Long story. Really long story.”

  His arm went to my waist, he thanked the crowd of onlookers, and ushered me inside. “Let’s get you a place to sit down and rest for a moment.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I insisted, trying to skirt away from his touch.

  As soon as he let go, wooziness engulfed me, and his arm went back to my waist. This time, I couldn’t argue.

  “I should call the police,” he mumbled.

  I shook my head, which made everything spin again. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was the Watcher. He was the limo driver. He told me to stay away from this case and then he sprayed something in my face. I woke up behind the convention center, at the service entrance.”

  He led me to a room behind the stage area and I sunk onto the couch there. Garrett thrust a bottle of water in my hands.

  “Maybe you should be checked out?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ll be fine. I don’t know what he sprayed in my face, but it’s wearing off. Just give me a moment.”

  I leaned back into the couch and closed my eyes. I wished I could sort out my thoughts. I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to sit here and feel sorry for myself. The man was not going to ruin this night. I just needed a few more minutes for my head to clear.

  “You’re very lucky,” Garrett mumbled, kneeling in front of me with concern etched across his face.

  “Luck has nothing to do with it,” I insisted.

  ***

  I finally regained enough of my thinking that I stood. “We should get out there.”

  “You sure?”

  I paused in front of a mirror and fixed my hair. Thankfully, Holly’s dress was okay. Thankfully, I was okay. The whole situation could have ended much worse. Death worse.

  “You look beautiful,” Garrett told me. He stepped behind me.

  I finally got a good look at him in the reflection there. On a good day, he was handsome. Dressed in a tux, he was worthy of making People magazine’s 100 Most Beautiful People list.

  I think I might have blushed. Then I scolded myself for blushing. Garrett Mercer should not make me blush. He had absolutely no effect on me … except that he did.

  Which was a problem.

  “You look quite nice yourself,” I finally managed to get out.

  He extended his arm. “Let’s get going, shall we.”

  “We shall.” My voice came out with a slight British accent. I hoped that Garrett didn’t not
ice and think I was mocking him. Total accident.

  He wagged his eyebrows up and down. “You ready for this evening?”

  “As ready as a runner for a race. A pregnant woman two weeks past her due date. A snow cloud in December.”

  Shut up, Gabby. Stop talking.

  Perhaps I was trying a little too hard to act like everything was okay, even though I still felt a little lightheaded.

  “Nothing ever flusters you, does it?” Garrett asked.

  He obviously didn’t know me. “Lots of things fluster me.”

  “Well, I would have never guessed. You always seem ready with a one liner. Or a two liner.”

  I hoped he wasn’t going to be in for a rude awakening this evening. I was Ms. Put My Foot in My Mouth, Speak Before Thinking, and Trip over Imaginary Lint. I don’t know where he’d ever gotten the impression that I never got flustered. I really should give him fair warning that shooting from the hip could get me in trouble with a capital T.

  “Despite the way the evening began, I’m glad that you’ll be joining me tonight.”

  “Thanks for asking. I look forward to meeting your friends.”

  “I think you’ll really love them.”

  We walked down a back hallway toward the murmuring of voices in the distance. “So, what are the updates on the case since we spoke yesterday?”

  I pulled in a long breath. “I’ve talked to a lot of people, but I’m not sure I’m any closer to the answers.”

  I filled him in on my conversation with Marty Mart Alvin and ended with the update on the private investigator in Pittsburgh, including Sebastian’s business trip there.

  Garrett blanched at the announcement. “P.I. Perkins was shot? Right after you talked to him?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, this simple cold case is suddenly seeming complicated.” I glanced at Garrett. “Why’d you choose Perkins anyway? How’d you find him?”

  “He solved a big case in New Jersey several years ago. Track records like that are important.”

  “I didn’t have a track record.”

  “Sure you did. You had Milton Jones. Plus that bombing in downtown Norfolk.”

  “You do your research.”

  “I didn’t get to where I am right now, just because I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, Gabby. At least, I’d like to think that was true.”

  I nodded. “I’d say it was.”

  Garrett rubbed his chin and let out a long sigh. “The killer is still at large, Gabby.”

  “And apparently he has eyes and ears and trigger fingers everywhere.”

  “I don’t like where this is going.”

  “As I’ve stated before, I don’t like bullies.” I shook my head. “Anyway, Marty Mart mentioned something—”

  “Who?”

  “I meant Marty. Marty mentioned something about a conversation he overheard your dad having with Sebastian Royce.”

  “He’s a strange man, isn’t he?”

  “Any reason to suspect him?”

  Garrett thought about it a moment before shaking his head. “Not really.”

  “What about Vic Newport? Do you think your dad was having an affair with his best friend’s wife?”

  “He didn’t talk to me about such things.”

  “Of course he didn’t. But did you ever hear any rumors? Did you ever have any suspicions?”

  “Very little would surprise me with my dad, Gabby. Very little.”

  “What’s your impression of Mr. Newport then? A killer?”

  “He’s meticulous. I’ll give him that. But I have a hard time thinking about anyone I know as a killer. Besides, why wouldn’t he have just targeted my father if this was all about an affair? Why kill the whole family?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  We stopped in front of a door. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, I’ve got to mentally prepare myself to wow investors.”

  Was I really ready for this? As the door opened, I realized I didn’t have much choice at this point. I nodded. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  This was not your grandma’s gala. Sure, it was fancy and filled with rich people. But this one was filled with rich people who were trying to make a difference in the world. Everything about the event screamed trendy and hip—and green, of course. Everything looked earthy and simple. A folksy band played in the corner, decorations consisted of pinecones and leaves and scentless candles. Everything seemed so organic and wholesome.

  Garrett introduced me to so many people that I couldn’t even begin to keep any of them straight. I smiled politely, prayed that the fancy little spinach-topped hors d’oeuvre wasn’t stuck in between my front teeth, and did my best to only discuss things that were considered “safe.” So far, so good.

  “Will you excuse me for a moment?” Garrett asked during a lull in introductions.

  “For a fifty cents an hour raise, I’ll give you more than a moment. I’ll give you two. “I grinned.

  “Your generosity never ceases to amaze me.”

  I gripped my sparkling water and turned to observe the expert schmoozers around me while Garrett disappeared. For a moment, I froze, wondering what to do with myself. The best way to mingle. The smartest way to not put my foot in my mouth.

  “Gabby, isn’t it?”

  I looked up and spotted a man. It took me a moment to realize he was Smith Wimbledon, the CEO of the pharmaceutical company. “Mr. Wimbledon. What a surprise.”

  He smiled good-naturedly. “Mr. Newport and I are both here. We like to support Garrett whenever we can.”

  “That’s really great.”

  “Being here is just a small thing we can do to show our encouragement. People who work at Wimbledon become like family. In fact, some of us prefer our coworkers to our actual families.” He chuckled. “How’s the case going? Any leads?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d call them leads. But I’m definitely not giving up on this.”

  He nodded. “Good. Someone needs to do time for this crime. All investigators need is one good break in the case.”

  “I agree.” And I hope I’m the one who finds it.

  The man’s hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and he jangled some change there. “I didn’t want to say this in the meeting. It didn’t seem appropriate, if you know what I mean. But Edward did mention something to me about some tension between himself and Sebastian Royce.”

  I twisted my head with curiosity. “Is that right?”

  “It was probably nothing. But I drove past one of his stores today and it made me think about an off-handed comment Edward made once. He said never loan money to a friend until you know which one you need most. I’m not sure what happened between the two men, but I know Edward made a passing remark about getting in contact with his lawyer.”

  “Do you know this lawyer’s name?”

  He shook his head. “He was my lawyer, as well, but I’m afraid he had a heart attack about six years ago.” He offered a sad smile. “I suppose that’s the challenge of working an old case like this. The leads that don’t dry up face the harsh reality of passing time.”

  “I can’t argue that.”

  He nodded toward someone in the distance. “Anyway, that probably wasn’t worth much. But it had been on my mind. I hadn’t expected to run into you, but you were on my list of people to call. I thought it was worth a mention.”

  “Absolutely.” That was the second time the man’s name had come up. The love of money may not be the root of all evil, but it was definitely the root of some evil. A substantial loan like the one Sebastian had taken from Edward would be enough to put anyone in treacherous territory. What I wasn’t sure about was whether or not this loan had been on the books. Had legal action ever been pursued even after Edward’s death? Certainly investigators had looked into their monetary accounts and noticed such a large transaction.

  And Sebastian had been a sharp shooter. Did he utilize those skills to kill the family? I couldn’t be sure.

>   When I had a chance, I’d ask Garrett.

  “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.” Hot breath hit my ear.

  I tensed when I realized how close the temporary boss was. Instead of slapping him, I scooted away. “I do think about people other than you. Not to burst your bubble.”

  Garrett grinned. “But you think about me some. I’ll take that.”

  “Are you always so full of yourself?” I asked. I wished he didn’t amuse me so much in the process. It would make my life so much easier.

  “I prefer to call it confident.” Those sparkling eyes rivaled the evening sky on a clear night. He extended his hand. “Shall we eat?”

  “Food sounds good.” I cast one more glance over my shoulder and spotted Vic Newport. I smiled. He scowled in return. Interesting.

  Garrett led me to a table near the front where two seats were saved. A moment of anxiety hit me at the thought of meeting the group, remembering their names, keeping a smooth conversation going.

  “This is Gabby,” he introduced me to the people seated at the table.

  I nodded hello and tried to keep track of everyone’s names, though I knew it was useless.

  As the conversation settled around us, I noticed that Garrett had his arm draped on the back of my chair.

  He’s just being casual, I told myself.

  But I also realized that everyone else at the table was a part of a couple.

  I also picked up on the fact that several seemed to be investors in Garrett’s company.

  As people did the general chit-chat, my gaze traveled across the room. One of the catering staff—one who’d seen me passed out in the alley—leaned over Smith Wimbledon, whispering something to him. Then he looked back at me.

  Had the man been warning Smith to stay away? That I was a druggie? Maybe he liked humiliating people and was sharing my story with as many people as possible.

  Anger—and embarrassment—surged through me.

  “So, how did the two of you meet?” the blonde across the table asked, pulling me away from my thoughts.

  I looked up at Garrett and saw him grinning. His face was entirely too close. I looked away.

  “We met through a case Gabby was investigating back in Norfolk,” Garrett answered.