Secret Bond (Jamie Bond Mysteries)

by Gemma Halliday

  "I know it was difficult for you, but you did a great job." I added a super cheesy grin for reassurance.

  He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end even further. Strangely, it didn't detract from his appeal any.

  "Maybe you can think of it as calling up a pal for lunch," I offered. Of course that wouldn't get us to point B as quickly as asking him on a date, but if it got Danny to pick up the damn phone, then we were moving one step forward. "Besides, the quicker you catch him hitting on you, the faster this whole ordeal will be done, and you can go back to using your skills on the fairer sex."

  His expression shifted. I hadn't a clue what he was thinking, but something got through because he walked to the coffee table and picked up his cell. He scrolled, which meant he was serious enough to program in Phillip's number, then dialed. He didn't hold it to his ear but out so I could hear.

  I stood and walked to his side.

  It rang twice. "Hello?"

  "Hey, Phillip, it's me, Danny. From Cock . . . " Danny winced. "From the club last night."

  "Yeah, I remember. How could I forget?" Phillip chuckled.

  Danny joined in, but I could tell his version was fake. "So I was wondering if you're available today?"

  "Oh yeah?" Phillip sounded hesitant.

  I nudged Danny's arm. He frowned at me. We couldn't lose this opportunity. Danny would have to put on the charm, or the girls and I would have to spend countless hours tailing this guy. And I didn't have that kind of time right now.

  "How about lunch?" Danny said. "We could discuss your portfolio."

  That was all Phillip needed. "Actually, that sounds great. Um, I can't today though. What about tomorrow before my shift. Breakfast maybe?"

  Danny looked to me. I nodded.

  "Yeah, that'll work," he said, then listened as Philip rattled off a time and place.

  I silently cheered, arms raised to the ceiling, swaying my hips.

  Danny stared at them, gave me a wink. I stuck my tongue out at him.

  "Great. I'll call you later, and we can finalize it. I'm on my way into an audition."

  "Okay. Break a leg."

  They hung up, and I squeezed Danny's bicep. "See, that wasn't so hard."

  Danny shook his head, tossed his phone onto a sofa cushion, and picked up his coffee. "The things I do for you, Bond."

  I decided to leave him alone before he changed his mind. "So, we'll mic you before the lunch, okay?"

  He grunted. "Hey, you still owe me," he told me as I headed for the door. "And trust me, I plan on cashing in big time."

  I bit my lip. Oh, boy.

  I quickly let myself out before he could voice just what he had in mind. As I crossed the street to my car, my cell rang. The caller ID said it was the office.

  "Hello?"

  "Boss." Sam sounded panicked.

  My body grew alert, my mind going immediately to Brumhill as I flung open my car door. "What's wrong? What did you find?"

  "Nothing. I mean, we're still looking into that. But Maya just got a call from her mother and someone named Ruth."

  Oh, this wouldn't be good. "What happened?"

  "Maya told me not to bother you with it, but because she specifically said not to tell you, I figured you'd want to know."

  What was with the Alexander women and wanting to keep everything a secret? "I do. What's going on?"

  "Something about her mother and Ruth in Belle's house."

  I closed my eyes and thought a really dirty word. I so did not have time for this today.

  "I heard Maya rattle off the address. You want it?" Sam asked.

  I slammed my door shut and turned on the ignition. My girls were the highest paid PI's for a reason. "Hit me."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I parked out in front of Belle McGuffey's single-story, ranch style home and ran up the wide driveway, past a shiny red Cadillac. Home-wrecker aside, the woman had great taste. The front door stood ajar, and shrill voices permeated through the thin opening.

  "Mom, this has become insane. Put it down," Maya shrieked.

  "Not until she admits it."

  I pushed the door open wider and stepped into the house. Maya stood a couple of feet ahead of me. She'd clutched her hands into fists and stood with her feet wide apart, as if her shoes had been glued to the tile.

  Charley was in the living room, near the fireplace, in the same position Maya stood, but holding an aluminum baseball bat.

  The woman I assumed was Belle was across the room from her, on her knees, one arm around Ruth's neck in a choke hold. Ruth's face didn't look strained, as if she wasn't getting air, but she obviously wasn't comfortable either.

  What the hell were they thinking?

  "Are you all crazy?" I shouted, imagining the police arriving any second and handcuffing all of us. Not a bad thing since Charley and Belle had obviously lost all sense of sanity and deserved it.

  They glanced my way.

  "Boss, what are you doing here?" Maya's frown deepened.

  "Jamie, this doesn't concern you," Charley said, attention back on her prey.

  "It absolutely concerns me." Especially when I've driven to the police station after midnight and rushed through midday traffic to make sure everyone was unharmed. I took a step toward them.

  "Stay back." Belle's bark caused me to flinch and stop moving. Now I understood Maya's baseball mound stance.

  "Why are you both doing this?" I immediately went into negotiator mode.

  Charley wiggled her bat at her friend. "She's threatened to snap Ruth's neck."

  Belle was wire thin. Her biceps appeared to have the strength of a mosquito. Ruth had forty pounds on her captor. She could've easily wrestled free.

  "You broke into my house. Again." Belle's shriek made me wince. This woman had full range of her vocal chords.

  "Mom, you promised you'd stay away."

  Charley tightened her grip on the bat. "Things changed, pumpkin."

  "What changed?" I took a small step forward.

  Charley stared at her friend. "Tell them."

  Ruth flailed her arms then pointed to her neck.

  Belle, noticing, loosened her grip. "Oh, sorry."

  I glanced at Maya, who gave me the same puzzling look I felt. This was like a bad Saturday Night Live skit.

  Ruth cleared her throat. "When I got home last night, Frank wasn't there."

  "She called his cell, and this tart answered," Charley shouted.

  Belle puffed up her cheeks. "I am not a tart."

  "She called me, hysterical, for which, of course, I don't blame her. Do you see what the tart is wearing?"

  Belle had on an ankle-length, rose-colored, silk robe. She was covered from head to toe, not an inch of skin showing.

  "Well, was he here?" I asked, trying to get back on point. I was pretty certain insulting the crazy woman holding your friend hostage wasn't a great idea.

  Ruth sniffled. "No."

  "Where is he?"

  Charley jabbed the air with the bat. "She won't tell us."

  "Because I don't know. I haven't seen Frank since last night. He must've left his phone here. I found it in the sofa cushions. When it rang, I answered. I didn't think it would start World War Three."

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to hold my patience in check. I didn't want to shoot off at the mouth and insult them. Charley and Ruth seemed like genuinely nice women, but there were some loose screws. "This isn't the way to get answers. If Frank isn't here, there's no reason to assume . . . "

  "You're all insane," Maya shouted, choosing the undiplomatic route. "I should just call the police and have you arrested. Again."

  Ruth's face paled.

  Charley's mouth gaped open, her bat hold loosened. "You wouldn't."

  "Why not? Maybe actually staying in jail and having a record would show you that you can't break into people's homes."

  "Technically the front door was open," Belle said. "I burned the toast and was airing out the house."
/>   Whose side was she on?

  Maya ignored her. "You're not a PI, Mom. This isn't the right way to investigate something. Right, Jamie?"

  "Uh . . . um." I sputtered, unaware she was going to fling me into her point. "Absolutely. A good PI stays on the positive side of the law."

  "But Remington and David . . . "

  "Mom, that's television." Maya stormed over to her mother and snatched the bat from her hands. Well that was easy.

  Charley pointed to Ruth and pouted.

  "Oh, sorry." Belle released Ruth, and both women hauled themselves to their feet with the help of the sofa back.

  "So are we good here now?" I expected Belle to mention pressing charges again, and I didn't think Maya would try to convince her otherwise this time.

  "I still don't know where Frank is or if . . . " Ruth turned to Belle. "Are you sleeping with my husband?"

  Belle curled a lock of her long, dark hair around a finger. "No. Not yet."

  Oh, snap.

  Ruth picked up a vase of yellow tulips and threw it at Belle.

  The vase bounced off the throw rug, still in one piece, but the flowers flew out, scattering across the floor, and the water soaked the bottom of Belle's robe.

  Charley cheered.

  Maya gave her a long, stern stare.

  Belle picked up a sofa pillow and tossed it at Ruth. "He's a great man. And he's bored. You don't show him any attention."

  The pillow landed at Ruth's feet. She grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and zinged it at Belle, like a Frisbee. "Lie." But from the worried look on Ruth's face, I wasn't convinced she believed her words.

  "Who do you think you are?" Charley hissed her words, grabbing a small geranium from a side table and flinging it toward Belle.

  Ruth ducked, and it whizzed past her, falling in a cloud of dirt beside Belle. Charley had a great arm. Now I understood why she chose a bat as a weapon.

  "Mom, stay out of it."

  "No, I won't. And stop talking to me like I'm a child. Would you stay out of it if Jamie was in trouble?"

  Maya glanced at me then lowered her gaze. "No."

  A smile tugged one corner of my mouth. The feeling was mutual, and put into that context, I suddenly saw Charley and Ruth in a new light. Still crazy, but it made more sense.

  "He's married. You can't have him." Ruth reached for the fireplace and grabbed an urn. She raised it over her head.

  Belle screamed, "No."

  Ruth froze and glanced up. Realizing it wasn't a lidded vase and probably contained the ashes of a dead man, a dead husband, she gently lowered her arms, placed the urn back on the mantle, and swiped a small framed photo instead.

  Belle ducked, and it sailed through the archway, hitting a bowl of bananas on the dining table. The fruit jumped but remained in the bowl. The frame bounced and crashed onto the floor. Glass shattered.

  Charley, Maya, and I cringed.

  Belle picked up the tulips and threw them, one at a time, stems first. They didn't come close to hitting Ruth. "Do you think once you have that piece of paper you don't have to try anymore? No more seduction. No more wooing. That's the perfect way to kill a relationship." Her eyes grew misty. Was she still talking about Ruth and Frank or her dead spouse?

  Charley made some unrecognizable sound. I knew she had to sympathize with Belle.

  "Frank needs attention, and if you won't give it to him, I will." She lifted her chin in defiance.

  Ruth gasped but didn't respond. The room grew quiet. Too quiet.

  Then Ruth stepped forward, raised her arm, and slapped Belle across the face. The sound echoed. "He's mine, and you won't get him."

  She turned and marched past us, out the front door. She appeared strong and in control for the first time since we'd met.

  Charley smiled and followed, adding a, "hmm" as she strode by.

  Maya turned from the open door and back to Belle, who was holding her cheek. "I'm terribly sorry. I'll make sure they won't bother you again. For sure this time."

  "Just go."

  Maya grabbed my hand, and we ran out.

  * * *

  After reassuring Maya it was fine if she took the rest of the day off to spend time with her mother and Ruth, I headed back to the office. Maya said her notes on Brumhill were on her desk, so I stopped there first and found a legal pad with her perfect, loopy penmanship. Beneath his name, she'd written his current address and other statistical information. He was an Aries, lived in Malibu, and drove a black sports car. All very mundane and typical for an aging politician.

  The printer hummed, causing me to flinch.

  Sam walked from the conference room and grabbed the sheets of paper. "Hey boss, how'd it go with Maya's mom? Anything serious?"

  I wasn't sure how much Maya wanted anyone else to know, but I was done with secrets for the day. "They're fine. A friend is going through a rough patch in her marriage. They'll work it out."

  At least I hoped they would. One less divorce statistic sounded great right now. "I told her to take the rest of the day off. We can man the phones, right?"

  On cue, Caleigh entered the reception area. She wore Maya's Bluetooth and spoke into the air. "Yes, it sounds like you made the right choice in calling us."

  It looked like they already had everything under control. As usual.

  Caleigh wiggled her brows at me, then sat at Maya's desk, opening the scheduling software. "Let's see, how about next Tuesday, at two. Is that a good time to come in?"

  Sam and I moved out of ear shot, into my office. We sat in the two chairs facing my desk.

  "So we dug as far back as we could on Brumhill," Sam whispered.

  Oh, no, this didn't sound promising.

  She handed over the pages she'd just printed. I looked through them as she explained what I was reading, although they seemed pretty straightforward. Checking and savings account information, credit history, homes owned . . . my girls were as accurate and lethal as the CIA, but much better dressed.

  "He has no criminal charges, not even sexual inappropriateness in the workplace. He's never even gotten a speeding ticket."

  My hope and shoulders slumped with each word she uttered.

  "He's been married for fifty-two years. No complaints of domestic violence, and he always remembers his wife's birthday and anniversary."

  He was a saint.

  "They have two grown children. Both girls. Both married with their own families. The youngest married a politician who's currently running for governor in Richmond, and the eldest is a pediatrician in Seattle."

  And raised saints.

  "Nothing has ever tainted his political career. We couldn't even find a suggested taint."

  I sighed and rubbed the space between my brows. This wasn't helping the headache that seemed determined to spearhead me.

  "Sorry," Sam said.

  I patted her hand. "No, this is great. Really."

  Normally, I'd assume I'd just been wrong. I'm woman enough to admit that it happened from time to time. But I'd seen the tape. That was definitely Brumhill driving the car, and he handed the meth head money for something. Whatever the payoffs were for, they'd been covered up well. "What about the guy in the photo?"

  Sam whistled and raised her brows. "He's another story. Richie Campbell." She handed me a very lengthy, handwritten rap sheet.

  "He's been arrested numerous times for drug possession and selling, in and out of a school zone, which worsens the offense. He's a member of the Los Leones, a gang that operates out of Compton, and he's currently incarcerated in San Quentin, for the next twelve years."

  "When did he go to jail?'

  Reading sideways, Sam trailed a finger down the page in my lap. "Three years ago on April thirtieth. But he was arrested on the eleventh."

  The day after Derek's shooting. Was Campbell my father's shooter?

  * * *

  By the time I reached the marina, nightfall was approaching. Red, orange, and gold ribbons stretched across the horizon, kissing the to
p of the water. From the parking lot, I'd noticed Derek on the top deck. I climbed the short ladder, remembering to take off my pumps first. When I reached the top, I stuffed my shoes into my purse and hedged around to the empty lounge chair, beside him.

  "You look exhausted," he said, holding out a beer from an ice chest.

  I sank into the creaky seat and gladly took the ice cold bottle. "I could sleep for days."

  "Anything new on the gay man?"

  I narrowed a glance at him. How did he know that?

  He leaned over, popped the top off my beer with a bottle opener in the shape of breasts, and flashed a devilish grin. It was the one that made the ladies weak. It was dazzling. Too bad I was his daughter and it meant nothing. "I spoke with Caleigh earlier. It's about time Danny put his charm to use."

  I took a long swallow of the bubbly beverage then closed my eyes. "I'm not quite sure he'd agree."

  "Ah, he should be thrilled to work alongside such a success."

  I opened one eye. "Oh, boy, that's laying it on thick. What do you want?"

  He chuckled. "Me? You're the one who's visiting."

  I turned my attention to the sunset.

  "And the one who sent those girls to drag me off my boat."

  I froze. He knew?

  "Did you find whatever you were looking for?"

  I swallowed hard then took another swig of beer. He sounded so calm. Was this a test? I considered lying or playing dumb, but he was right in more than one way about the exhaustion. I wanted the truth, and that meant I needed to play it straight.

  "What happened after you filmed Brumhill paying Campbell?"

  The silence was electric.

  "Look, we can sit here and pretend I didn't snoop and you aren't keeping secrets, but we'll both know we're lying. This is getting old. Just tell me already, Dad. Please."

  I wasn't sure if it was the 'please' or the 'dad' that finally won his heart, but he turned to me and finally said, "I gave a copy of the tape to Brady."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We moved below, into the galley, away from possible eavesdroppers. Plus, being on the top deck was a bit dangerous when you combined the dark sky with high heels and alcohol. We settled at the table. Derek leaned forward, elbows on the Formica. He looked pained, like his pants were too tight after a big, extravagant meal.