Smiling, Sondra approached the coat check. The smile was partially because Archer had not seen what was under the coat yet. He was probably going to blow a fuse and that would be worth seeing. She unbuttoned her coat, allowed Archer the chivalrous act of taking it from her shoulders, and her smile got broader as he paused before handing her coat to the woman at the desk. She had gone for a fairly simple dress in red with matching sandals which almost made up the height difference between them. The shimmering silk dress was simple, and also brief. Both front and back plunged deeply, and the flouncy skirt was above mid-thigh. The skirt was fully opaque, but the bodice had a meshwork pattern in it which hid her breasts but gave a strong suggestion of what it hid. There was a heart-shaped pendant around her neck and a bracelet on her wrist, both in red gold. She turned to give Archer the full effect.
He shook himself, like a man coming out of a trance. ‘You are trouble.’
‘I am?’
‘Yes. You’re going to upstage me really badly. And yet, I somehow feel it’s worth it.’
‘Why thank you, Mister Archer,’ Sondra replied, adding a hint of sultry to her soft tones.
He winced. ‘Let’s go with Dillan. You are supposed to be my date for the evening.’
‘Dillan then. Shall we go run the gauntlet?’
‘We’re going to have to face the cameras,’ he said, grimacing a little.
‘I know. No comments on the case, please.’
He took her arm and started for the line. ‘I’d rather avoid any mention of it.’
Sondra figured there was little chance of that with her standing beside him in front of a bland screen backdrop while cameras flashed. She was half-blinded, but she posed, one foot carefully placed before the other and her body slightly angled to give a better view of her cleavage to the onlooking photographers. They seemed rather pleased with what they were getting.
‘You’ve done this before,’ Archer said, his lips barely moving as he smiled for the cameras.
‘This isn’t my first press call,’ Sondra agreed, though she was more often being pictured in a suit in front of police HQ or city hall. There was too little space in front of Arcane’s building, for which she was thankful. And then they were moving on, even though the photographers wanted more. Sondra was a little puzzled since Archer was there primarily for the publicity.
Coming in behind them, Sondra noticed Bergen with a woman on his arm. They were not in a relationship, aside from a professional one; Sondra could see the markers in the way the woman was pleasant to the producer, but not standing too close to him. Her dress was designer: a short cocktail dress in red to complement her colouring. She was a redhead and very attractive, and her pale skin had a creamy quality to it that spoke of Irish ancestry. Her green eyes flicked toward Sondra and hardened; for whatever reason, the woman did not like her.
‘Who’s the redhead with Bergen?’ Sondra asked.
‘Melinda,’ Archer replied. ‘Melinda Kozlowski. She’s my love interest. Uh, in the movie.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Anything else which might have been said was stopped by the questions from the reporters waiting with raised microphones and portable recording devices of various kinds.
‘Dillan! Dillan! Introduce us to your lovely companion.’ That had to be someone from out of town. Probably part of the media crowd from Florida.
‘Mister Archer, how is the filming going?’
‘Is there any truth to the rumour that the recent murders are linked to your film?’
Archer raised a hand. ‘Barry, you’re showing you’re from out of town. This is Detective Sondra Blake from the NYPD Arcane Crimes Unit. Filming is going fine. We’ve had delays, but so does every production. I… Both of us are here to support projects seeking to get children out of poverty. That’s what we need to be promoting.’
‘Is there any truth to the rumour that the murderer is targeting the production, Detective Blake?’
Sondra’s eyes narrowed as she searched Brightman out among the reporters. The creep was wearing a tux; he probably had a ticket. Damn! She smiled at him. ‘Do I really look like a cop tonight, Mister Brightman?’
Brightman smiled. ‘No. No, you don’t.’
‘Right. Off-duty and planning to enjoy myself.’
‘Even with a magician killing young women?’ someone called out.
‘You know it’s a magician? I don’t. I may be off-duty, but I’m always working.’
‘But hopefully not too much,’ Archer said. ‘If you’ll excuse us, we have a party to attend.’ He led Sondra away, his hand on the small of her back. She noticed the tension in his arm and said nothing as he almost pushed her away toward the interior of the museum. Something was bothering him, but she was not entirely sure what.
‘Are you always working?’ he asked as they climbed toward the upper floors.
‘Occupational hazard for cops. Even when I’m sleeping, the case is working around in my head. Anything might trigger something that solves a case. Some random comment forges a link between two unrelated facts and suddenly it’s all obvious.’
‘Ah.’ He seemed to relax at her explanation. Maybe he had just been annoyed that she considered this work, which she did not. ‘I suppose I’m the same. I can’t go to the corner store without signing autographs.’
‘Huh. I think Brightman has a ticket.’
‘Brightman?’
‘He’s a reporter for WNSN. Likes to think of himself as an investigator, but he’s mostly just an annoyance. He’ll probably try to corner you. And me.’
Archer smiled. ‘Handling reporters is part of both our jobs. I think we can handle him.’
‘Probably. Oh, and just so we’re clear… If another body shows up, I’ll have to do a Cinderella act.’
He chuckled softly. ‘Your shoes aren’t glass. Anyway, I’m feeling lucky tonight. I don’t think anyone’s going to interrupt us.’
‘From your lips to God’s ear,’ Sondra said, and they walked into the sedate chaos of the party in the Patron’s Lounge.
~~~
‘Aren’t you cold?’ Archer held out a glass to Sondra as he spoke; it was her second glass of wine while he was on his third or fourth whiskey and showing no signs of it affecting him.
Sondra raised her left wrist and shook the rose gold chain with its array of charms. ‘Warming charm. No fashionable young lady, or old one, goes out in winter without one. Especially when wearing a cocktail dress.’ They were up on the roof of the museum where a band was playing and drinks were being served. Sondra suspected that Archer was avoiding Kozlowski, though Sondra suspected that the woman’s necklace served the same purpose as her own bracelet and the roof was not safe.
‘I have to make do with a sweater.’ His suit was grey with an undertone of blue and there was a pale-blue polo-necked sweater beneath it which he looked good in. Sophisticated, yet not overly formal. The night air was brisk, almost cutting when the breeze swept in, but Sondra’s charm was making it comfortable.
‘It looks good on you.’
He smiled. ‘Perhaps, but you look stunning. I’m the envy of every man here.’
Sondra considered the statement while she sipped her wine. It was clearly a compliment, but he had twisted it into something about him. She lifted her gaze to his face and found him looking at her, smiling still.
‘Your eyes…’
‘Used to be brown,’ she said, making him frown.
‘Sorry?’
‘Before the Collapse, my eyes were brown. Quite a dark brown. I can’t remember when I realised they’d changed, but my mother told me they were amber when she first saw me after… things changed.’
‘I’m sure they were beautiful, but now they’re beautiful and… a little strange. The way they catch the light…’ He shook his head as though breaking out of a trance.
‘I’m told that magicians on Lornaron always had pale eyes. There’s no linkage between talent and eye colour here, but something must’ve carried over. My eyes changed.’
<
br /> ‘And you remain forever young.’
‘Apparently.’ She shrugged. ‘Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘You’re talking to the wrong class of person there, I’m afraid.’ Sondra gave him a curious look and he grinned. ‘Looks are everything in the movie business. It’s still worse for women. Once you’re over thirty, you get given “character roles.” If you’re lucky. It’s still important for the men, though.’
‘Well, you’re aging pretty gracefully. You’re still very active and you still have your looks. No grey in your hair.’
‘Good genes. I know I’m fortunate. I’m sure I still have a few good years in me yet.’
Sondra giggled. ‘One or two, yeah. How old is Miss Kozlowski?’ The redhead had just come up the stairs and onto the roof.
‘Uh, twenty-two? Twenty-two, I think. This is her first big role. She’s hoping to make a name with it and… Well, she’d like us to be more than an on-screen couple. The studio has tried to push an off-screen romance, but I prefer to select my own companions.’
Kozlowski spotted Sondra standing beside Archer, and flashed an unpleasant look. It seemed to be directed at Sondra more than Archer and Sondra made a mental note to check out the actress’s background. It seemed unlikely that she would sabotage her own film, but it might be worth checking. Then again, the murders went back to before Kozlowski was even born…
‘She’s a vain woman,’ Archer added. ‘Though, if I’m honest, that’s an occupational hazard. Orlando is full of people trying to look good, thinking they look good, and worrying that they don’t. Hollywood was the same, of course. The culture just slid across the continent.’
There had been little choice in the move: between the fallout from the nuclear weapons used in the Orc Wars, and the orcs and goblins needing somewhere to live when the conflict was over, much of the west coast had become either uninhabitable or a place humans preferred not to stay. A lot of Californians had ended up in Florida, shifting the political balance of the state and bringing the film industry and some of the technology sector with them.
‘I visited Orlando in nineteen eighty-two,’ Sondra said. ‘Just a few days’ holiday in the summer. Nice enough place, but I prefer New York. Too much open space down there, I think.’
‘Hello, Dillan.’ Sondra’s eyes flicked to Kozlowski as the actress stepped up beside them. ‘And you must be Sondra Blake. So pleased to meet you.’
Sondra took the offered hand and shook it. ‘My pleasure, Miss Kozlowski.’
‘Call me Melinda.’ There was a hint of narrowed eyes; Kozlowski was annoyed that Sondra knew who she was, which seemed weird for an actress.
‘Melinda then. How is the film working out for you? Enjoying the production?’
‘Oh, well, there’s a lot of boredom, of course. Dillan has most of the exciting stuff.’
‘That will change when we shoot the later sequences,’ Archer said. ‘There’ll be plenty of running, jumping, and dodging fake explosions.’
‘Half of which my stunt double will be handling. I’m not the action hero Dillan is. I still don’t know why you risk half the things you do, Dillan.’
‘It’s more realistic when I’m actually in there.’ Archer glanced at Sondra, a wry grin on his face. ‘Of course, the studio won’t let me do some of the stunts. I’m good, but I don’t have the training for things like car rolls or high falls.’
‘At least my double won’t be doing the love scene,’ Kozlowski said. There was a sort of unvoiced boast in there: she would be getting to do a sex scene with Archer. ‘We’re filming that this week, aren’t we?’ Archer nodded, his expression unreadable. ‘That should be fun.’
Sondra decided that Kozlowski was jealous, not a potential killer. Though, jealousy could be a motive… ‘I spent three days making sure a porn company had all the right certificates and safety measures in place once,’ Sondra said. ‘Porn jumped on magic faster than the people down in Orlando did, and Arcane was a new unit with too few staff members. I learned one thing during those three days. Sex in front of a camera is a lot less exciting than it is in private.’
‘True,’ Archer agreed with a sad sort of nod. His smile returned. ‘Of course, that usually means I enjoy the real thing more. It’s so nice to be able to just do something instead of worrying over line delivery and camera angles.’
‘I suppose,’ Kozlowski said. ‘I should mingle. Good luck with the case, Sondra.’
Sondra nodded her thanks. ‘Good luck with the love scene.’
~~~
Sondra’s opinion of Brightman went both up and down as she discovered him waiting for her outside the restrooms. On the one hand, it was an excellent strategy. On the other hand, he was being extra creepy tonight.
‘A night at some charity schmoozathon with the most eligible bachelor in Orlando when you should be out catching a killer? Any comment, Detective Blake?’ He was looking self-satisfied.
‘Yes,’ Sondra replied. ‘I really hope you didn’t pay too much for that tux.’
‘Come on, Sondra. You’re on a date with the prime suspect–’
‘Your “sources” appear to be giving you false information. I hope you didn’t pay them too much either.’ Sondra had been planning to just walk past the obnoxious man, but she stopped and looked him in the eyes. ‘Ever considered the possibility that someone wants the press to hype the connection between the murders and the film? Good publicity, if you ask me. I think you’re getting played, Brightman. Think on that.’
‘It’s three down and four to go, Sondra,’ Brightman hissed. ‘Yeah, I know about the pattern.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Four more deaths and this guy’s in the wind for seven years. Are you going to stop him?’
Sondra raised an eyebrow. ‘First, what makes you think it’s a guy? Second, if I tell you I’m doing everything possible to put an end to this string of murders, you know it’s just the party line, right?’
Brightman’s nose wrinkled and he looked away. ‘From most cops it is,’ he said, his tone grumbling. He was a creepy, annoying, overeager, callous prick, but he was also a good investigative reporter. ‘Look. If you get anything you can give me…’
‘If,’ Sondra replied, walking away. ‘But only if you quit digging that hole you’re standing in.’
19th February.
Neither Bergen nor Kozlowski had looked especially pleased when Sondra had left in the car which had come for Archer. Sondra couldn’t have cared less. Archer had offered her ‘a nightcap,’ and she had decided to take him up on the offer.
Archer’s suite on the top floor of the Grand Park Empire was impressive. Two large bedrooms, each with ensuite bathroom, were set off a lounge with a TV screen almost large enough to host cinema screenings. There was a small kitchen and a third bathroom. The carpets were thick, the decoration tasteful, and the lighting was on a dimmer which Archer set on low when he turned on the lights. There was no view of the park from the large window which took up one wall of the lounge, a broad balcony/terrace outside it with tables and chairs for eating at when the weather was warmer.
Opening up a drinks cabinet, Archer turned to see Sondra taking off her coat and laying it over a chair. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Do you have a decent brandy in there?’ Sondra started for the window to look out at the night.
‘I think so, and not a bad idea.’
‘I’m amazed you’re still drinking.’ He had put away far more alcohol than she had, but he seemed fine.
‘Alcohol never bothers me,’ he replied. ‘I never get badly drunk and I don’t get hangovers. You don’t seem impaired.’
Sondra looked out at the sparkling blackness through the glass. ‘I have a pretty high alcohol tolerance. I do get hangovers sometimes.’
‘Not tomorrow, I hope.’ He was right behind her and he held her glass out beside her. She took it and his arm lowered to snake around her waist.
She might have complained, but did not
. ‘Not tomorrow, no.’ She sipped, and the brandy burned its way down her throat, warming her. The warmth kept going down to settle comfortably between her legs and her lips curled a little. ‘You’re being a little forward, Mister Archer,’ she said with humour in her tone.
‘Should I step back?’
‘No.’
Almost casually, he used a couple of fingers of the hand with his glass in to brush the straps of her dress off her right shoulder. The simple garment fell until the straps caught on her forearm and she gasped as her breast was revealed to whoever might be watching. There was almost certainly no one out there, but the thrill of exhibitionism caught her breath in a gasp. His arm lifted from her waist and he cupped her breast in his hand, fingers stroking over her skin. The warmth between her legs grew and she let out a soft moan.
‘Your skin is amazing,’ he said softly. ‘Smooth, soft. So dark.’
‘I take after my mother,’ she replied, her voice breathy.
‘I want you.’
She giggled. ‘I’d guessed.’ She heard the sound of his fly unzipping and her eyes widened. ‘Here?’
‘Now.’ He pressed himself against her behind through her dress. She was wearing a thong under it, but that was going to be little hindrance. There was the clatter of his glass falling to the floor and then he was hitching her skirt up around her waist. She felt him slide against bare flesh and pushed up onto her toes, pressing her chest to the glass. His fingers found the lace covering her mound and pushed it aside, and then he was in her, sliding in a couple of inches before pulling back and then thrusting again. She gasped as he buried himself deep inside her. He was a well-endowed man and she felt full, stretched.
The Vanity Case (Sondra Blake Book 1) Page 8
