by Lois Winston
“What do you want out of his apartment?”
“The champagne bottle is in the trash, and Mac will take it to the lab we use in Orange County. Adam doesn’t remember where he put the note, but that could be in the trash as well. And if you see anything weird—you know.”
“I know what to look for. Text me his address.”
“You’re a peach, John.”
“You owe me.”
“Bullshit I owe you. I gave you my Angels tickets so you could take Jennifer to the game. The Angels. And they won. And just last week you had me run down one of your informants and you didn’t pay me—I get paid for this stuff now, you know?”
“Okay, okay, don’t have a coronary.” He hung up.
Scarlet stared at the phone. “Something’s up.”
Krista blinked. “What? You do a lot for John.”
“Yeah—but he should have come back with what he’s done for me lately. Like fixing my car when the fucking mechanic wanted to charge me $1500. It’s a game we play. He feels guilty about something.”
“I will never understand your relationship with your brother,” Krista said, “but he would do anything for you.”
He would and vice versa. But Scarlet was thirty-four years old. John was her younger brother by two years. She knew him better than anyone in the world, and something was definitely up.
“Everyone is acting weird,” she mumbled.
“Krista!” a voice called from the living room. “Krista, where are you?”
“Oh, God, it’s Adam. You’d think I was his dog the way he calls for me.”
Scarlet looked at her watch. “It’s nearly twelve. Did you ask Mac to run Tiffany too? She gave me a weird vibe. Though it might have been her boobs. They cannot possibly be real.”
“Mac’s on it. She gave me the same vibe.”
“Do you know the entire wedding party is blond? Not just blond, but with the exact same hairstyle. Long and straight. It was creepy.”
They walked out to the living room and Adam stood there with Trina all decked out in designer ski clothes. Scarlet felt woefully inadequate in her old blue-and-green jacket that reminded her of the Seattle Seahawks and non-matching black ski pants.
Trina gave her that look but Adam seemed oblivious. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he pleaded with Krista.
“I’m not here to have fun,” Krista said. “I’m here to work. Scarlet is a better skier than I am anyway, so she’s going with you. It’s not up for discussion.”
Adam pouted. Actually pouted. Krista intentionally ignored him and caught Scarlet’s eye. She didn’t have to say a word, Scarlet knew exactly what she was thinking.
Get him out of here before I lose it.
Scarlet turned to Adam. “Here are the rules. They are not up for discussion, either. One, you do not attempt to lose me. Two, you do exactly what I say without argument. Got it?”
Adam looked confused, and Trina looked like she wanted to argue. Scarlet turned her back on them and strode across the foyer to jab the elevator button. “Let’s go.”
THREE
Krista waited until she heard the elevator door close before she fell prostrate on the couch.
What have you gotten yourself into?
She knew exactly why she’d fallen for Adam. First, he was hot. He knew he was good looking, but he wasn’t conceited about it. They’d met on the beach one weekend during Krista’s senior year in college. Adam had said he was a student, too, but didn’t mention that he was on academic probation. At the time, Krista had been really into the surfing scene. She’d taken up the sport as a freshman, and she was a natural—as good as Adam and that was saying something. They’d hit it off. Krista had known immediately that he was a bit of an airhead, but he was sweet. Like a little boy. Always wanting to please, always happy.
It had been lust at first sight. Krista had dated so many arrogant, selfish jerks or lazy losers, and Adam was completely different. Unfortunately, he wanted to please everyone, including every woman who walked within his line of sight. Krista still had no idea why he’d proposed or why she’d said yes.
Well, maybe she did … she’d been in love with the idea of being happy and sexually satisfied for the rest of her life.
But the honeymoon phase hadn’t lasted long. Sure, the first few weeks were bliss—when they’d been alone, either in bed or surfing. But then they’d had to interact with other people, and Krista had discovered that when she wasn’t around, Adam didn’t say no to anyone. He welcomed any girl who took off her bikini into his bed. Their bed. And then he’d had the audacity to claim he didn’t know she’d be upset.
But this was Adam. She didn’t doubt that he liked her, but he liked a lot of girls, and Krista had far too much self-respect to stick with him, no matter where he was going in his career. After only a few months of marriage, Krista had realized that sleeping around was part of his chosen lifestyle. She’d wanted none of that. Marriage meant something to her. It meant fidelity. It meant mutual respect. It meant trust.
But she’d never hated him. Maybe for a while, because she was angry and hurt, but Adam was very difficult to hate. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body.
It was clear from the minute she’d talked with Trina that she and Adam had slept together. The separate rooms in the lodge could mean they weren’t sleeping together now, or that they were sneaking around, or that they were pretending. Krista didn’t care, unless Trina was the one trying to hurt him. Then Krista would take her down hard.
Krista looked around the suite and considered what needed to be done. Mac was handling the background checks, John was checking Adam’s apartment, and Scarlet was babysitting Adam. With Trina skiing and Dave off working—probably on the phone doing whatever it was managers did—Krista took the opportunity to search the hotel suite.
The law was a bit iffy on it, but she’d flat out asked Adam who paid for the suite—he had—and therefore, she felt comfortable searching Dave and Trina’s rooms. She wouldn’t go through their suitcases or drawers, but if something was out in plain sight, it was fair game. Scarlet would probably dig deeper … but Scarlet often took unnecessary risks. Since they were private investigators, they had more leeway than cops in many areas — but they still had rules to follow.
Dave’s room was so neat she wondered if he actually stayed here. Krista remembered what Scarlet said about his intimate conversation with Tiffany—and that he denied sleeping with her. In her experience, Hollywood people slept around and they admitted or denied it based on what benefited them in the moment.
One suitcase in the closet. She lifted it. It felt empty. There were a few clothes hung up, probably more in the drawers. A laptop on the desk. She itched to inspect it, but that would be crossing the line. The toiletries in the bathroom were all travel sized. A stack of scripts sat on the nightstand, all neatly bound. Some had notes. Maybe he really had stayed here and was just fastidious.
Trina’s room was far messier. Two large suitcases plus an overnight bag. Seemed excessive for a long weekend. Far more clothes hung up and flung around than necessary for the weekend, as if she tried things on and discarded them. She had more clothes in this hotel room than Krista had in her entire closet. The bathroom was strewn with more make-up than Krista and Scarlet owned combined. All expensive brands in every shade imaginable … but Krista didn’t remember Trina wearing that much make-up.
Krista stepped out and considered that this suite was huge. There were five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, and large eating area. The two bedrooms with a shared bath that she and Scarlet had could be separated from the rest of the suite and accessed through a door that led into a tiny sitting room off the foyer. Suite A. Why had Adam paid for the rooms in the first place? Just to have the entire penthouse suite?
She didn’t want to go into his bedroom, but she really had no choice. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust what he’d told her—Adam couldn’t lie to save his life. When she’d confronte
d him about the affair, he had just blinked at her and said, “Uh, yeah, I slept with her. I didn’t think you’d care.”
She shook her head and realized that maybe she did have some unresolved issues related to Adam. Not that she regretted divorcing him, but that she had been so completely trusting when she’d fallen for him.
Adam’s room smelled like him—he’d worn the same breezy cologne when they’d been together. His bed was unmade—it was after twelve and housekeeping hadn’t been here? He didn’t have a laptop that she could see, and he hadn’t unpacked. His suitcase was open on the couch, his clothes rifled through as he’d searched for something to wear. A pile of dirty clothes had been tossed into the corner with a pile of towels. Not as messy as Trina’s room, but certainly not as tidy as Dave’s.
Krista stood in the middle of the room and looked around. She didn’t know what she was searching for — maybe she was just skeptical of this whole stalker thing. Actors collected crazy fans. It was part of the business.
She heard something in the living room. Adam and Scarlet had left fifteen minutes ago with Trina. Dave, maybe—Adam had said he wasn’t skiing.
She stepped out and didn’t see anyone. She stopped in the middle of the living room and listened. A faint sound came from the hall with the bedrooms.
She quietly checked Trina’s room then Dave’s. No one. She crept to the end of the hall to the suite that she and Scarlet were sharing. Cautious, she pushed open the door.
No one was there.
A door closed quietly on the other side of Krista’s suite.
She ran through the adjoining sitting room and into the foyer that connected with the rest of the suite.
A door to the left of the elevator was ajar. She opened it, listened.
Someone was running down the stairs. Krista pursued, but only caught a glimpse of a guy as he bolted around the corner. He had speed and a head start. She’d just started her pursuit when the door at the bottom of the staircase closed. He wore black, but that was all she could make out in the split second she’d caught sight of him.
She took the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door. The staircase opened into the lobby next to the bank of elevators. A group of blond women walked past her. One looked her up and down and obviously didn’t approve, but another one smiled and waved. “Hi, Krista!”
Tiffany. And she actually remembered her name. Maybe she wasn’t as dumb as she acted.
“Did you see anyone come out of this door? Half a minute before I did?” Krista asked.
She got four blank stares and a confused look from Tiffany.
“No,” Tiffany said. “We were getting manicures.” She waved her French manicured nails under Krista’s nose.
“Nice,” Krista said absently as she moved past the group and to the front desk.
She rang the bell. A moment later, the manager stepped out of the room behind the counter. One look at Krista had him scowling.
“May I help you, Ms. Hart?”
“Someone was in our suite.”
“Housekeeping, most likely. They should identify themselves—”
“No, someone was in our suite and then ran when he heard me.”
Mr. Oliver frowned. “The elevator is secure.”
“Staff can get in.”
“Of course, but—”
“Do you have security camera?”
“Yes.”
She waited a beat.
“May I see the footage?”
“I’m sorry, but security tapes are private.”
She showed him her P.I. identification. “I’m a private investigator hired by Mr. Brock to ensure his safety.”
Mr. Oliver raised his eyebrow. “Unless you are a police officer with a warrant, you will not be looking at the security footage.”
She wanted to scratch his eyes out. But using all the charm she could muster she said, “Would you mind looking at the footage and letting me know who exited the staircase next to the elevator at approximately 1:15 p.m.? I came out right after him.”
“I don’t know what you expect to find.”
“The person I chased out of our suite.”
He hesitated and then said, “I will look into it.”
She waited.
“I will contact you.”
She wanted to argue, but decided that she needed his help and arguing wouldn’t get her what she wanted.
She handed him her business card. He stared at it for a long moment then looked at her. What, he hadn’t believed she was a private investigator?
“That’s my cell phone number. Call me directly. Thanks.”
She walked away before he could change his mind.
She went back to the staircase and tried the door. Locked. She took out her hotel key card and waved it over the lock. It clicked.
She went back to the lobby desk. Mr. Oliver wasn’t there. She rang the bell. He came out and looked soundly irritated. “One more question. The key card—when we went to the third floor, Adam said his card key got us into the penthouse suite. Is that the same for the staircase?”
“Yes.”
“But if someone is on the second floor, they can access the staircase.”
“But they could only enter the hall on the second floor. Only guests registered on the third floor can access the third floor, either via the elevator or the staircase.”
“How many key cards have you authorized for the third floor?”
He didn’t want to look that up for her, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse. He typed on the computer. “Eight.”
“Eight? For three guests?”
“Five guests. Two each for Mr. Brock, Ms. Warren and Mr. McMasters. One each for yourself and Ms. Moreno.”
“Would you please cancel all of them and reissue five?”
“I really can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“If Mr. Brock requests it, I’ll be happy to accommodate you.”
Great, Krista thought. Now she had to babysit the hotel suite instead of working.
She went back upstairs and looked around the living room. Whoever had come here must have thought the place was empty because Adam and Trina were skiing. They could have assumed that Scarlet and Krista had gone with them. But Dave hadn’t gone. Where was he? Why would he be sneaking in and out of his own hotel suite?
It didn’t make sense.
Well, damn. Why had someone snuck in? Were they looking for something?
Krista started in the living room and inspected everything carefully, looking for anything odd or out of place. Adam wasn’t paranoid this time. Something strange was definitely going on.
FOUR
Scarlet glided off the chairlift and swished to a stop beside Adam. She was freezing her ass off, but the view was spectacular. Adam hadn’t even had to twist her arm to get her to take one last run with him before the lifts closed.
“Where’s Trina?” she asked, zipping up her jacket.
“She went ahead.” Adam peered at her over the tops of his Ray Bans. “You okay?”
“Sure, why?”
“You look cold.”
“I’m fine.”
“Here, take my scarf,” he said, unwinding the charcoal gray scarf from around his neck.
“Really, I’m fine.”
He leaned over and draped the scarf around her neck, where it felt deliciously warm and soft. It had to be cashmere.
Adam smiled down at her. “Looks good on you. Really brings out your eyes.”
“My eyes are green.”
“Exactly. Gray accentuates green, makes them look so much richer.”
She didn’t know what to say. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “You can have it back at the bottom.”
“Keep it.”
“No way, Adam—”
But he was already taking off down the hill. He headed straight for a jump and Scarlet watched in awe as he executed a helicopter and nailed the landing.
She started down the hill, trying n
ot to get too distracted by Adam as she navigated the moguls. He really was attractive. He was tall and muscular and a natural athlete. He could be charming, too, and Scarlet could see why Krista had fallen for him at the tender age of twenty-one.
She could also see why Krista had dumped him. The man was a shameless flirt, and by the time Scarlet reached the bottom of the hill, he was already cozied up to a pretty young ski bunny who was happily sharing a cup of cocoa with him.
“Oh, hey, Scarlet.” He waved her over with a smile. “Trina got the car already.”
Scarlet took off her skis and tromped over to the valet stand as Adam said goodbye to his new friend. Trina sat in the passenger seat, looking impatient while the attendants secured their skis to the top of the SUV.
Scarlet slid into the back as Adam handed the valet a twenty and got behind the wheel.
“What a rush,” he said, pulling into traffic. “That powder was killer.”
Scarlet took out her phone to check for any messages from Krista, but nothing had come in.
“Scarlet?”
She glanced up at Adam. “What’s that?”
“I said did you see that bowl off to the side earlier? Maybe we’ll hit that tomorrow.”
“I’m game.”
She tucked her phone away and watched Trina’s reaction. As expected, she was sulking, which just confirmed what Scarlet had thought from the start—she had a thing for Adam. She wasn’t sure whether he knew it or not, but she’d find out. Maybe Krista would know.
They picked up the narrow road leading back to the lodge, and Scarlet noticed a black Escalade in the side mirror. Adam veered right at the fork in the road. The SUV followed.
“Your friend with the cocoa,” Scarlet said. “She staying at Gold Rush?”
“Who?” Adam caught her eye in the rearview mirror.
“The woman you were talking to.”
Trina’s shoulders tensed, but Adam seemed oblivious.
“Nah, she’s staying in town. Alpine Villas. She and her friends might meet up with us tomorrow.”
Scarlet kept her eye on the side mirror as Adam approached a juncture. He hung a right. A minute later, the Escalade followed.
