“How long ago did he call you?” I asked.
“Last week. After he called, I just got so scared. Between the online profile and my picture in that stupid paper-” she shook her head. “I told them I didn’t want to appear in it. Anyway, I gave my notice here right after Mario called. Still not sure which route led him here, but it doesn’t matter. We’re required to give two weeks notice and it’s not like I had enough money to move myself. I was hoping to convince Carmen to get me out of here when she visited this week. When I heard someone coming up the stairs outside the office just now, Doris was leaving some files on my desk. I asked her to lie for me. Tell you I’d left. I thought you were Mario. Doris went to grab more files and I hid under my desk. I didn’t know where else to go. The only other exit is back in the admin wing and it sets off an alarm when you open the door.” Veronica paused, taking a shuddery breath. “You see, I was so grateful to Carmen for saving my life but, in some ways, not knowing where Mario was or if he would just randomly show up was worse. Combine that with working, and the Midwest — I couldn’t handle it.”
“So you decided to lure him in,” Corbin mused. “Make things happen so you could get what you wanted — another fresh start in an even bigger city.”
Veronica raised her eyes to meet mine. They were filled with unspilled tears and I squeezed her hand tighter. “Carmen called to say she would be in town for about 48 hours and wanted to see me while she was here. It was my only chance to have her get me out of here. We rarely get to speak over the phone. Plus, I didn’t want to risk my name being registered with the hotel. You have to do that to get a key to Carmen’s room, anywhere. She demands identification, too.”
I wanted to protest but realized that I’d never obtained a key myself, shy of after Carmen’s death. No need for identification at that point. Interesting.
“I knew he was close,” Veronica continued. “I could feel it. I didn’t want Mario to find Carmen. It was my fault he was here at the same time she was in the first place, even though I didn’t plan it that way.”
“You entered through the fire escape,” I breathed, my dream from a few nights before coming back to me. My hunch had been right, but I didn’t look to Carly to see if she recalled our conversation. I was satisfied with not being totally crazy.
Veronica nodded. “I went in through the fire escape but left by way of the elevator. Carmen gave me her extra key card to use so I didn’t have to identify myself. Mario must have been closer than I thought. He had to have watched me go in through the window but not come out. I got there just before she left for a photo shoot or something. She told me to wait, that she’d be back. I left, though. I got bored and decided I’d just come back later. I left through the lobby.”
“You’re not on any security tapes,” Corbin said, puzzled.
Veronica smiled wryly. “I must be. You probably just mistake me for Carmen in a different outfit. There aren’t any cameras in the bedroom that would have caught me coming in off the fire escape.”
“Carmen did seem to be in and out excessively,” I agreed, looking to Corbin. “And there’s that instance of where security said the tape skipped, showing Carmen leave but not come back. Makes sense.”
“And Mario assumed you were alone in that room. That you were being kept in a hotel,” Corbin said, nodding his head. “He didn’t have an address or anything at that point, he was trying to figure it out. He kept waiting for you to come out of the hotel and, when it didn’t seem like you would, he made his move, thinking that’s where you were holed up. Carmen didn’t lock that window. She wanted you to be able to get in and out as needed without a key.”
“He followed me in,” Veronica said, her tears fat and hot, spilling over at last. “He didn’t see me leave, so he must have assumed that Carmen was me.”
“Where was Carmen’s security detail?” I asked gently.
“Gone,” Veronica said miserably. “I don’t know what happened to them. Best I can tell from what I’ve seen on the news, that one girl — Addison or whatever?” I bit my tongue so as not to correct her. “She supposedly brought Carmen back to the hotel. Her security must have been with the car that was supposed to pick her up. Somehow the car was redirected, maybe? The news is all jumbled still.”
I patted her hand. “From what you’ve said so far, that stunt has Mario written all over it. He had to know that she was in town and that the two of you would be together. Assume that she was using a car service and that she’d meet you at your hideout, which he thought was the hotel. I’ll bet he was trying to divert her long enough that he could kill you before she got back.”
“Carmen and Addison got back faster than he suspected,” Carly added. “He didn’t assume Carmen would have a quick ride to you at the hotel if he got rid of her private car. Not seeing them both enter the room, he assumed it was you and Carmen chatting, Veronica. But you weren’t even in the hotel when it all happened.”
“Then who was his assistant?” Corbin asked.
I stood, stretching my legs a bit, and frowned, turning to meet his eyes. “Assistant?”
“Well, yeah,” Corbin said. “There’s a pair of female footprints still unaccounted for. And we don’t have a set for Mario at all. He has someone working for him. That’s how he’s going to try to avoid prison time.”
He, Carly and I considered this for a moment before we turned to Veronica. “Don’t look at me,” she insisted, raising her hands and swiping at her tear-stained cheeks. “I have no idea who might be helping him.”
“That’s probably not good,” I muttered.
“Well, what now?” Veronica asked, rising to her feet. “Mario is here. He has got to know that he killed Carmen and not me. He’s waiting for an opportunity. I just know it. Plus, now he knows my hideout was never the hotel. Ten bucks says he’s already found my real place.”
“You can come stay with me tonight,” I said quickly. Carly started to say something but I cut her off with a look. “We already decided not to go back to the hotel. I think we’re all sick of living out of suitcases.”
Carly nodded, though she still looked unsure. Corbin sighed audibly. “Veronica, you have to go to the police.”
Veronica stepped back as though she’d been slapped, and began to visibly shake. “I- I can’t!” she choked out. “Not yet. If they don’t believe me, then he’s still on the loose.”
“An innocent woman is in jail,” he insisted, looking at me for agreement. I hesitated and Corbin slapped his forehead, then laughed a nervous but angry chuckle. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to leave Addison to sit in a jail cell when we have a damn confession?” He walked away and gently punched one of the walls. Carly seemed torn, wanting to go after him but knowing that I had a point to make.
“Not forever,” I insisted. “But let’s be realistic for a second.” Corbin turned to me, bemused, while Carly and Veronica crossed their arms. “It’s getting late. Veronica’s story, while plausible, is pretty messed up.” Veronica snorted but didn’t disagree. “Plus, she’s supposed to be missing and quite possibly dead. Even if she goes in and confesses, the likelihood that Addison would be released tonight is slim to none. They’d have to check out Veronica’s background. That’s going to take time, especially without Carmen to confirm her story. And we still can’t prove that Mario did anything; we can only prove that Addison was, in fact, present at the time of Carmen’s death. We need to figure out who Mario hired to help him. We need enough to get them both put away, so that Veronica is safe to live her damn life.” I sucked in a deep breath and looked from Corbin to Carly. “We have to bring the others in on this. We need a plan. We can’t go parading into the police station with a bunch of puzzle pieces.”
“She’s right,” Carly muttered to Corbin.
“No one wants to see Addison free more than I do,” I insisted, walking over and touching his arm. I frowned, a thought occurring to me. “Except maybe Addison. So let’s do it right the first time and we’re guaranteed success
…without adding more death into the mix.”
There was a long pause while everyone considered what I’d just said. Finally, Veronica uncrossed her arms and stood there skeptically, as she once again looked me over. “Where exactly does someone like you live?” she asked in a way that suggested she didn’t really want an answer.
“Glendale,” I responded breezily.
Her eyes lit up with interest. “They have that updated shopping center, right?”
“I’m within three bus stops,” I assured her.
“Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I’d thought,” she said kindly, patting my arm. After a pause she looked at Corbin. “Well obviously, I know who you are.” She turned to look Carly and I up and down. “And I recognize you both from the news, but, who exactly are the two of you?”
When we opened the conference room door, Doris nearly toppled into the room. She’d been pressed up tight against it, listening to our entire conversation. When Corbin opened the door and Doris began to fall, he caught her by reflex, set her to rights and gave her a suspicious glare. I’m pretty sure that, had he known she was there, he would have just let her fall. Doris, not even the slightest bit ashamed, dusted herself off, turned and walked off.
“How much trouble are we in?” I whispered to Veronica, who didn’t seem the least bit surprised by our fly on the wall.
Veronica shrugged but didn’t offer a response.
Back in my SUV, I called Mika’s cell and spilled all of our findings. He promised to inform James and Rory as we continued to make our way towards the office. Betsy had apparently been sent home for the day, having driven everyone up the wall. From my office, Corbin was going to hop into his own car and drive to the jail to speak with Addison. At that time of day, he was probably the only one of us who would actually be able to get in to visit her.
Back near my studio, I slowed to a crawl at the end of the block and squinted. “Is it just me or did the media storm get just a little bit bigger?” I asked the others.
“It’s definitely bigger,” Carly said, nodding her head.
“Weird,” I muttered. “I wonder what they know that we don’t.” I pulled my car as close to the studio as I dared. Cutting off the engine, I watched as the reporters became more alert, having seen my familiar vehicle come to a halt. “They look like meerkats,” Corbin muttered.
The newscasters and journalists all waited until we were a safe distance from our car before they started running towards us. They were getting smarter in their approach. I could see their eyes glittering, eager for a new scoop. “Something doesn’t feel right about this,” I told the others, pausing. Turning, I caught Veronica’s nervous expression and something clicked in my brain. “Shit,” I cried, peeling off my black oversized sweatshirt, leaving only my white tank top covering my upper half. Hastily, I threw the sweatshirt over Veronica’s head and began steering her through the crowd. “Stupid!” I yelled at the others. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“Is Veronica Guerra still alive?”
“Who is Cassandra Moon?”
“Who killed Carmen Suarez?”
The questions were relentless, pummeling us from all sides. Veronica, who had been initially disgusted by my sweaty garment going over her perfect hair and face, now seemed grateful, leaning against me for support as she wobbled along in her ridiculous heels. The door to the studio opened just before we got to it and I shoved Veronica inside, diving in after her. Carly wasn’t far behind. “Where’s Corbin?” I panted, as Veronica peeled off my sweatshirt and handed it back to me, just as Rory reached out to help Carly steady herself
Carly frowned. “He must have taken off to go see Addie while everyone was distracted by Veronica.”
“I’m going to kill Doris,” Veronica ranted, smoothing her hair, her blouse, her skirt, and then her hair again. “After all of this is over, I’m going to go back to that office, grab her by her stupid old-lady Peter Pan collar, and I’m gonna-” She started to pound a fist into her open palm but stopped short as James and Mika appeared from the admin wing. Veronica’s eyes lit with interest and I could see James shift uncomfortably as her eyes paused just below his brown leather belt.
“Veronica, this is Mika Andrushkiv and James H-”
“Holden,” she breathed prettily, nearly batting her eyelashes. “Yes, I’ve heard all about you. My, my. You really are much more handsome that Carmen let on.” She continued to scan him as though he were a steak, pausing just before she licked her lips in anticipation.
“She never mentioned you,” James hedged, clearly unnerved by her forthcoming nature. I smiled, amused. It was rare that James was at a loss for words. He was usually the dazzler, rendering women speechless. It seemed, however, that the tables had finally been turned. The poor man didn’t seem to know which way was up. “At least, not until she hired me to find you.”
“Us,” Mika corrected.
“Right,” James said, slapping his forehead. “This is my- well, we’re not exactly partners, we’re- ah- what would you say we are?” He looked at Mika for help defining their relationship and I couldn’t help but giggle.
When Mika didn’t respond right away, I stepped forward. “They’re recently reunited as partners.” Mika snapped his head towards me, surprised, but I just gave him an assured grin. “Right?”
“Right,” he said quickly. “Partners.”
“Non-sexual,” James added, as if it weren’t entirely obvious.
“So the cat is out of the bag about Veronica,” Carly spoke, breaking the tension. “Seems the media knows about her, now. Or they think she’s Carmen back from the dead. Either way, we’ve got an hour, maximum, before those photos they just took hit the internet and Mario or his helper begin to stake out the studio.”
“So we all just crash here tonight,” Rory insisted brightly. “With the media outside, no one is going to bother trying to get in. This place is a fortress.”
“My place will be just as safe,” I insisted. The others looked at me skeptically. “There’s media there, too. Plus there are beds. Nice soft beds. And pillows. Oh! And blankets. And pajamas.” I paused. “Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups?”
Mika laughed and Veronica seemed to notice him for the first time. That beautiful, crooked smile never ceased to garner attention. “He’s taken,” Carly whispered to Veronica as she nodded towards me. Veronica seemed stunned that I could bag a demigod, but she recovered fairly quickly.
“I have a gun!” I cried, determined to stay in my apartment that night.
“When was the last time you shot it?” Mika asked, the smile still sparkling in his blue eyes.
I clamped my mouth shut. He and I both knew the answer to that. Never. In fact, I’d have to load it when I got home. Which would require remembering where I put all of the bullets I’d purchased. Blast. “Well, anyway,” I muttered, “I don’t think my place is any less safe than here, especially if you’re convinced the media is key to our safety.”
“It’ll be safe if we’re all camped out,” James added, finding his voice at last and looking to Mika and Rory for agreement.
I rolled my eyes. “I really don’t think that that’s-”
“Well, we’ll just see if it’s necessary,” Mika cut me off gently.
“It’ll be a bit cramped with all of us,” I noted. “My place barely qualifies as a one-bedroom, after all.”
“So Carly will be with you, while James, Rory and I camp out downstairs,” Mika insisted. When I opened my mouth to disagree, he cut me off. “It’s not up for debate. It sounds like this man is capable of anything and I think he has proven that. I’d rather have you think I’m overbearing than lose you, Em.” He put his hand to my face and stroked my cheek gently. Veronica made pretend retching noises – I ignored her.
“You do, however, admit that I’ve had quite the string of good luck,” I muttered, leaning into his large, soft, warm hand. I kissed it gently as he pulled it away.
“That’s only true until the first time you’re un
lucky,” Carly sang.
“It’s true,” Veronica agreed.
I sighed. “Fire escape?”
Veronica looked puzzled but the others nodded in agreement. As we started for the stairs that led to Addie’s and my office, however, she followed without a word of protest.
We successfully managed to get all six of us out the window and down the fire escape without anyone noticing that we’d left. Unfortunately, in unlocking his state-of-the-art Audi, Rory had inadvertently set off the alarm. He’d avoided using his clicker, so as not to make the lights flash and the horn beep but, in trying to wrestle the door open with his key, had set off the panic alert. The car was flashing its headlights, honking, beeping and making every other offending noise it was capable of. “Shh,” Rory hissed desperately, trying in vain to silence the vehicle. He was fiddling with the key, which seemed momentarily stuck in the lock, when I raced across the lot, grasped the fob and pressed the panic button. Immediately, the car went silent. Almost as quickly, the dull buzz of the media standing in front of the studio grew louder, as they began hurrying towards the parking lot.
“Run!” I cried. Rory used his fob to unlock the car door, withdrew his key from the lock and dove inside, slamming the door shut behind him. His engine purred to life and he squinted at me through the windshield, waving his hands about at his empty seat, as if to tell me that he could fit another passenger. The person nearest to us was Carly, whose back was turned as she and the others took in the approaching crowd. I grabbed her by the back of her shirt. She yelped and the others spun to help her, but I was already opening the passenger door on Rory’s Audi and stuffing her inside. Shakily, she buckled her seatbelt. No sooner had I shut the door than Rory peeled out of his parking spot, kicking up dirt and gravel in his wake.
Alllison Janda - Marian Moyer 03 - Scandal, Temptation & a Taste of Flan Page 16
