“I could come over,” he offered. “Bring you the tapes. Help you…relax.”
“I can’t believe you’re thinking about sex at a time like this.”
“Is there a more opportune time to think about it?”
“Would you just email me the tapes?”
He sighed. “Yes, dear.”
Moments later, I was downloading the video footage, swigging wine from the bottle and munching on a cracker. I let the entire recording play from start to finish a total of three times, but the only thing that seemed out of place was the brief tousle of Addison’s hair. No matter how many times I willed it, the video did not change to a recording of the hotel room windows. I studied the screen for what felt like hours but, when I looked at the clock, only about 20 minutes had passed.
It occurred to me that if I wanted to get ahead of the prosecution, I was going to have to get just as dirty as they were. An idea dawned on me and I again reached for my phone. Punching in the number I knew by heart, I waited as it rang. Once. Twice. Three times. “Change your mind?” Mika asked coyly upon answering. “Because I haven’t.”
“Actually, I was wondering if you had anything black,” I said rather seriously. “We’re going on a mission.”
I’m what one might refer to as a planner. I plan everything — weeks in advance, too. I need to know every possible plan B and C for every possible scenario. Unfortunately, one thing that I didn’t have on my side in Addison’s trial was time. While I hated the idea of doing what Mika and I were about to do half-assed, I didn’t have much choice. All I could do was hope that I could remember everything that Mika and I discussed on our ride over to Carmen’s hotel.
“Okay, now what are you supposed to say if they ask for your credentials?” Mika asked me for the umpteenth time. We were standing just outside the car he’d borrowed from his neighbor as a disguise. Mika had parked in the underground lot that connected to the hotel. No reporters seemed to be present but that didn’t mean they weren’t hiding somewhere. He came over and tucked a loose curl of mine back into the black ball cap that he’d made me wear. I tugged nervously at my oversized black sweatshirt. My black cargo pants and bright purple running sneakers were hardly the outfit of a cop, but Mika was sure I could pass for his partner if I could just keep my head down. The trouble was, neither he nor I had anonymity in this city anymore. The police had banned us from returning to Carmen’s hotel. We’d have to try to swindle a clueless desk clerk and pray that no one was manning the elevator when we got there. It was worth a try.
“I’m supposed to smile and reach into my pocket, like I’m going for my wallet. Then you step in.”
“That’s right. Just let me do all the talking.”
“I don’t think this plan is going to work,” I whined.
“It was your plan.”
“I know but what if someone recognizes us?”
Mika took me by the shoulders and looked me deep in the eyes. “No one is up there — at least, no one from the department. The only person we need to convince is the front desk clerk. It’s mid-morning. Everyone is checking out, the lobbies are busy, we’ll just be another face in the crowd.”
I scoffed. “Everyone will be able to place you. You’re gorgeous. You modeled in my magazine. It’s a very well-known magazine, you know.”
Mika shook his head and smiled, pulling a second black ball cap out of his back pocket. “Are we going to try this or not?”
“Of course we are.”
“Then let’s get going, Sugar.”
As we ducked into the elevator that would take us from the parking garage into the main hotel lobby, Mika and I kept our heads low, not wanting to make eyes at the security camera. While it was likely that someone going back through the tapes would be able to place us, we wanted to keep our anonymity as long as we possibly could.
The elevator doors dinged open and I felt my heartbeat quicken. The table that had been set up after Carmen’s death, to check officers in and out as they used the elevators, sat unmanned and tidy. The lobby was alive with around 30 people pulling suitcases, chasing down children and milling about outside the fancy restaurant, waiting for additional guests no doubt.
Mika made a beeline for the check-in card table and immediately began to rustle through the paperwork. “It’s all blank,” he noted. “They were recording the name of everyone who went up and came down. Probably going to use that somehow in court, but all those pages are gone now.” He grinned. “I told you that no one would be here.”
Once he’d set everything to rights again, Mika sauntered over to the front desk. Thankfully, a young woman who looked like she didn’t have much in terms of job experience was the only one working. She seemed frazzled and hurried, continuously glancing behind her, hoping a manager would come out and assist. No one did. This would be like taking candy from a baby. “Hi-” I started, leaning across the counter.
“Just one moment, please,” she begged. The phone was ringing off the hook. She paused to answer, placed them on hold, and immediately it began to ring again. She picked it up with the customary hotel greeting, requested that they hold, and placed the phone back in its cradle. Meanwhile, a line at least five deep had formed behind Mika and I. The phone began to ring again. She cast a worried glance towards Mika and I before looking back down at the phone. “I- I-”
Mika gently slid off his ball cap and turned on his smile. It was only about a quarter of his usual full wattage, but it was enough to freeze the poor girl in her tracks. “You can get it,” he told her gently in his soft Ukrainian accent. Her jaw opened slowly. I’m surprised she didn’t start drooling. He had that effect on women.
The phone kept ringing, stopped, then immediately started up again. This seemed to snap her out of whatever daydream she’d been having. “Hello,” she answered breathlessly. “What? Oh, yes, that’s this hotel. Mmhmm. Yes. Yes, I understand I forgot the greeting. How can I help you? Actually, could you hold on for just a moment? Mmhmm. Thank you.” After she placed the call on hold and the phone back in its cradle, she sighed and turned on her smile. Her hand began to search the back of her head for her ponytail, which she tugged out. As if she were auditioning for the last shampoo commercial on the planet, the woman shook out her hair and beamed in Mika’s direction. Her brown locks, now free from their elastic prison, fell in beautiful waves around her shoulders and I immediately became jealous. There was no way that my frizzled mess of curls had ever looked that good. I eyed the woman’s name tag and took note of the fact that the top button of her cranberry-colored uniform blazer had come undone. She noticed, too, and used it to her full advantage, leaning over the desk to reveal her ample bosom. “Sir?” she asked Mika coyly, “how may I help you?”
Mika chuckled but kept his smile at low volume. Anything higher and the woman would probably keel over. “Hi,” he briefly checked her name tag, “Ashley.”
Ashley giggled like a hyena and leaned closer to Mika. “Hi,” she whispered flirtatiously. I stanched the green monster, knowing that he was just trying to get us a key. Still, it was difficult. I briefly imagined sidling up next to Mika, hitting this chick in the face with the telephone and racing away, but swallowed hard and stayed in place.
“Ashley, darling,” Mika continued breezily. “I need a room key.”
“Which room?”
“Presidential Suite.”
Ashley hesitated. Just then, the phone began to ring again. An older woman with a very small dog in her purse stood behind us. She loudly cleared her throat, annoyed with how long things were taking. The small dog, if you could even call it that, growled in agreement. Our young friend behind the desk looked like a deer trapped in headlights. “I- I have to answer this,” she stammered, picking up the phone. She gave the customary greeting, asking whoever was on the other line to hold.
“But I already was on hold!” a voice shouted from the other line, just as Ashley tapped a button and put the phone back in its cradle.
“A key, please?
Then we’re out of your hair.” Mika kindly asked again.
“It’s just-” Ashley started. She turned to look behind her, no doubt hoping with all of her might that a manager would come save her. We didn’t stand a prayer of getting that key if someone higher up the chain got involved. We needed to speed this along.
“Ashley?” I asked, returning to Mika’s side. “Ohmigawd, is that you? I haven’t seen you in forever, girl!”
Mika looked at me questioningly. I could only hope that he’d go along with the sudden change in plans.
“Do I…know you?” Ashley asked, squinting hard as though trying to place me in her memory.
“Of course you do, silly! It’s me, Marian! Gosh, how are you? You know, I was just thinking of you the other day.”
Ashley looked from Mika to me and back to Mika. “Um…”
“Anyway, you’ll have to forgive my partner here. He just doesn’t know how to explain himself very well.” Mika turned up the smile wattage a bit and shrugged at Ashley sheepishly. I saw a slight shudder in her movements. Perhaps her knees were weakening? Mine certainly were. Those eyes. Those dimples. “We’ve just been asked to comb back through the room. Make sure no one missed evidence of any kind. I’m working for the local department now. Didn’t we chat about that last time we ran into each other?”
Ashley peered around us to the card table in the lobby that sat empty. “Someone from the department is supposed to be letting people up-” she started.
“I know,” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “And they said they’d be here, but,” I waved at the table, “as you can see, no one is. Promised the big guy we’d be back within the hour.” Ashley seemed to hesitate again and turned to Mika for assurance. He turned up his grin a little bit higher. She turned back to me and I gave her the sweetest smile I could manage. “Since we know each other,” I added. “For old times’ sake.”
Ashley looked behind her one last time, searching for a manager. None were present. The line behind us had grown to nearly ten people, all shuffling around, anxious to check out and be on their way. “Okay,” she finally muttered, grabbing a plastic key, typing some things into her computer, and swiping the key on a device that resembled a credit card machine. “But if you get in trouble, this key did not come from me. Understood?”
Mika and I both nodded our agreement. She pouted as he began to walk away, but was quickly accosted by the older woman with the small dog. The mutt glared at Mika and I as we traipsed towards the elevator, a low growl rumbling out its throat the entire time. I pushed the “up” button and the pair of doors slid open almost immediately. Mika and I slipped inside, waiting for the doors to close behind us before we entered the key into the slot, pressed the giant “P” and whooshed up towards Carmen’s suite. The breath I’d been holding came out thick and loud. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding it since the front desk.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Mika told me seriously, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Yeah, but now she has my name,” I informed him. “I should have lied. Given her a fake.”
“It doesn’t matter, Sugar,” Mika promised me. “We’ll get what we came for.”
“Do you think there will be any police around upstairs?” I asked, suddenly worried. It was a hole I hadn’t previously thought of, though I wasn’t sure why. It seemed rather obvious that, as an active crime scene, police might not be too far away.
Mika shook his head. “Already thought about that. Most of the evidence they want will have already been gathered. Room has been off the market a few days. The hotel is likely pressuring the police to hurry up and finish their investigation, so that they can get the room professionally cleaned and open it for guests, given that it’s their most expensive one and this is a popular hotel. My thought is that the MPD already has most of what they need. If there were still a high volume in and out, that table downstairs would be manned.”
Just then, the door dinged open. I stepped out first, cutting my gaze right and then left. I started to call out a timid “hello?” but Mika whisked up behind me, covering my mouth with his hand. I looked to him, confused, but he simply placed a finger over his lips. Suddenly, there was a loud crash to the left, in what was once Carmen’s bedroom — the scene of her murder. I jerked my head towards the noise, my eyes wide with fear.
Mika removed his hand from my mouth and gently pushed me behind him, pulling a handgun from his waistband. “You’ll want to come out now,” he called gruffly. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
There was some low cursing followed by silence. Eventually, footsteps began to echo off the walls. I kept my eyes trained on the doorway, gasping when the intruder popped around the corner.
“What are YOU doing here?” the three of us cried out in unison.
Standing before Mika and I was none other than Betsy Rutherford. Betsy was Addison’s and my intern from last year. She’d been working with us during the whole Barry incident. At one point, we’d suspected that she was out to kill us. That was before Barry became totally unhinged and cornered me in my apartment.
Betsy herself had high ambitions to be a model. She’d come to us originally seeking a chance behind the camera, but the only work we were able to offer her was an unpaid internship. She earned college credits from us but didn’t bother applying again for her final college semester. Not that Addison or I blamed her. We’d not only shut her down at a modeling gig for a second time during her time with us (we hired Mika instead), but we’d acted a bit hostile towards her once we suspected she’d been involved in Alec’s death. Plus, we hadn’t ever really apologized.
Betsy had changed quite a bit, but I suppose that’s what a few months in college can do to you. She was still small in stature but her red hair, which had earlier been a cute bob, was now styled long and sleek, with thick bangs nearly covering her eyes. Her nose was still freckled in that adorable childlike manner, but her makeup was thicker around her eyes, lined with a dark ring of black kohl. Her fingernails, which had always been chewed to within an inch of their life, were long, thick and French manicured. Her clothes, which in the past were cute but somewhat billowy and Bohemian, were more business professional, showing off her adorable slim figure.
The three of us had been standing in stunned silence for what seemed like hours when Mika finally lowered his weapon and gave Betsy a suspicious glare. “What are you doing here?” he repeated.
Betsy sniffed and cut her eyes to Mika’s gun. “I could ask you the same question,” she murmured.
“How did you even get in?” I stammered.
“I-” she started, before cutting her gaze to her left.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” came a male voice. “She’s with me, alright? I got her in.” Just then, James strode around the corner, hands raised in a “don’t shoot me” pose.
I crossed my arms and rocked back on my heels, giving him an evil glare. “You sure do get around, Holden,” I muttered. “What is she…21? 22?”
James smirked at me in that sexy way that got him into my pants oh so many years ago. I felt my heart flutter a bit and my mouth went as dry as cotton. “You just don’t get it, do you, Sweet Cheeks?” he asked, stepping towards Mika and I. “I’ve changed.”
“Then what is she doing here?” I growled, finding my voice.
“Didn’t you hear?” Betsy purred, stepping up next to James. “I’m his intern.”
“Oh, that’s rich,” I snapped. “I thought you were majoring in fashion. Isn’t that what you said in your resume?”
“I changed my mind,” Betsy said, flipping her hair nonchalantly. “After last semester, I decided I wanted to go into criminal investigation.”
“She’s been working for you since January?” I asked James, flabbergasted.
“No,” James promised, quickly.
“My school doesn’t allow you to intern until you’ve got a semester of your major under your belt,” Betsy clarified. “But we’re almost through spring and I
just decided I’d approach James about a possible internship this summer. I kind of know him.” She shrugged. “He brought me on right away but agreed to not notify the school until the summer session begins.”
“But…you were going to graduate.” I stammered. “In May. This May. You’ve just added another two years.”
“Well,” Betsy said thoughtfully, “better now than much later.”
“Why James and not Mika?” I asked, slightly miffed by her taste. “You do, after all, know both of them about the same.”
Betsy shrugged. “I dunno. James is hotter, I guess.”
I made a noise in the back of my throat and cut my gaze to James, who stood with his arms crossed, looking smug. Don’t get me wrong – James was sexy. His sandy colored hair, freckled biceps the size of cantaloupes and liquid emerald colored eyes had “gorgeous” written all over them. But there was something about Mika’s darker skin, curly hair and crooked smile that had totally won me over in the looks department. “Okay,” I finally muttered. “All of that aside, could you please tell me what the hell you two are doing here? Seriously.”
“Seriously?” James asked. “We were looking for clues to keep Addison locked up for life.”
I started to march towards him, but Mika grabbed the back of my shirt and held me in place. “James, be serious,” he said casually. “You and I both know that the police have combed this place over from top to bottom. There is nothing that you could bring them at this point that they haven’t already thrown at the prosecution. So, I’m going to ask you one more time. What are you doing here? Really.”
James’s shoulders drooped and he suddenly looked like a very lost little boy. Betsy, who had grown concerned, began gently rubbing circles across James’s lower back. “Maybe don’t push him to tell you things,” she suggested.
I snorted. “And you think you’ll make it as a cop.”
Alllison Janda - Marian Moyer 03 - Scandal, Temptation & a Taste of Flan Page 12
