I slipped into the backseat, shimmied out of my business attire and wiggled into the khakis and button-up shirt. “Let’s act like we belong here. How about you switch me spots and I’ll park right in the driveway. You hide out in the backseat and call me if anything’s up.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
That’s exactly what we did. I parked in the driveway, popped the trunk, took out my cleaning supplies, and walked around to the backyard. A nice family leaving the pool was gracious enough to hold the pool gate open for me as they walked out. Other than them, no one paid any attention to me.
I walked right over to Mr. Frederick’s patio door and got to work; housework that is. I sprayed the window down with cleaner and started wiping it clean. Clarissa had said Mr. Frederick was on a creative sabbatical, but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t sitting in his living room or something crazy like that. Also, on the off chance that someone was watching me, I wanted to look legit.
Looking in through the window, I could see the house was as clean as could be. There wasn’t any food left out, dirty dishes, clothes, nothing. Basically, the exact opposite of Lucia’s. I held my breath and took a chance with the sliding patio door.
It was locked.
Crud.
I waited there a second, debating what else I could do. So far, I had only been able to confirm that Mr. Frederick wasn’t home. I hadn’t seen the man approach me from behind.
“You locked out?” The maintenance worker asked me.
I jumped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you try the door.”
“Oh, yes, I can’t believe it. I keep forgetting Mr. Frederick’s door’s lock after themselves. He’s going to think I’m an idiot.” I took my phone out and pretended like I was looking for his contact information. “I hope he doesn’t fire me,” I added.
“Listen, I’m not supposed to do this, but I don’t want you to get fired. I can run to the office and get his spare and let you in, just this once.”
“You would do that for me? You would be really helping me out.” I said.
“Yeah, I guess I can. Just don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to get in trouble either.”
“Trust me, I won’t. Promise.” I said.
“Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be right back.”
As soon as the maintenance guy took off, I texted Finn. Maintenance guy letting me in. Be out front in a minute.
It took the guy less than three minutes to come back with the key. He met me on the front porch and undid the lock.
“Nice car, by the way,” he said.
“Thanks. It’s my dad’s.” The guy nodded and I hoped that explained how I could afford such a luxury.
“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?” he asked.
“Yeah, maybe. Thanks again for saving my tail,” I said.
“You’re welcome. The job market out here is brutal.”
I laughed. “That it is. I better get back to it, then,” I said, walking in and pretending I knew where I was going, but at that moment, I had a horrifying thought: I sure as sugar hoped Mr. Frederick lived alone. Not my best thought-out plan ever. No one came running downstairs and I didn’t hear any voices or televisions. The only thing I could hear was the faint sound of water running, like a fountain or a fish tank low on water. Hopefully this meant that I was in the clear. I trod lightly through the foyer anyway.
The first thing I spotted was a set of crystal food bowls on the ground in the kitchen. A lace doily was placed underneath them. Talk about fancy pet bowls. A purple silk pillow with gold tassels and the name Queenie embroidered on it was adjacent. My first thought was Mr. Frederick owned a cat; that is, until I saw the gold-framed, wall-size print of a French bulldog in the living room. An ivory plush pillow was in this room as well, with a basket of toys and an-honest-to-goodness treat station for the pup. Some people had coffee bars, Frederick had a puppy refreshment station. I kid you not. That’s what the sign said. The area was even equipped with a self-dispensing treat toy and pink-porcelain water fountain. That’s the tinkling sound I heard. By these standards, Captain Jack was neglected.
Focus, I told myself. I needed a clue as to where Mr. Frederick had escaped. Walking into every room was like looking through a kaleidoscope, an explosion of colors. At this rate, a piece of white paper like a travel itinerary would stick out like a penguin standing on a snow bank.
I went upstairs and looked in the master bedroom. It looked like a circus. I’m serious. A plush red and white stripped comforter was on the end and an enormous stuffed elephant stood in the corner. The faint smell of popcorn lingered in the air. The room was eclectic, but it was also spotless. I moved on.
I suppose the next room would be considered the office, except it lacked traditional office furniture. Everything was inflatable. The couch, chair, table. The neon blow-up furniture was different to stay the least. The only thing more bizarre was the patterned-fabric-covered walls. The room was totally trippy. All that was missing were a couple blacklights.
I was about to write the room off when I noticed the closet door was open. Inside, set up on a set of built-ins, was an old-school desktop computer. If I was lucky, it wouldn’t ask for a password. If I was really lucky, he hadn’t cleared his browser history. I started the computer and was about to walk over to the window to look out for Finn when a brick came crashing through the window.
I jumped back, turning my face away from the explosion of glass. And that’s when the Molotov cocktail flew past me, bouncing off the blowup couch and hurling itself back toward me. I ducked. The glass shattered above my head, sending flames and fuel across the walls.
The problem with a room covered in fabric is that it goes up in flames like a dried-out lighted Christmas tree with faulty wiring. The only thing more intense than the heat was the smoke. The room was engulfed in it. I army crawled to the hallway. Instinctively my eyes were closed. I debated if I should turn right or left, trying to remember which was the way back downstairs when I heard Finn calling my name. Screaming was more like it.
“ZIVA! ZIVA!” I couldn’t respond. My heart was hammering and I felt like my lungs were filled with smoke. But the sound of Finn’s voice was all I needed to know which way to go. I found my courage, jumped to my feet, and started racing down the hall, running right into my man. Hand in hand, we raced out of the condo and jumped into the Mercedes.
“Sweet sugar!” I said to Finn, gasping for air and trying to catch my breath. Finn chose a different expletive. His was more in line with how I felt, but not suitable to type.
“You’re bleeding.” Finn turned my cheek ever so closely toward him. Now that he mentioned it, it did sting. I put the visor down and flipped open the mirror to see for myself. My face was speckled with tiny cuts, nothing too deep, but we’d have to make sure to get the glass out.
I clicked on my seatbelt, “Just drive, we’ll figure out the rest.” Firetrucks, an ambulance, and police cars were already pouring into the complex when we turned out.
13
“Slow down,” I said to Finn. He was pushing sixty miles per hour, and I wasn’t about to escape a firebombed apartment just to get pulled over by the police for speeding and end up being questioned anyway.
“I’m okay.” I reached over and put my hand on Finn’s thigh and gave it a little squeeze. Finn looked at me and I saw the anger there, smoldering inside. I took my hand off his leg and shifted my gaze out the window.
“Sorry, it’s not you. It’s not you,” Finn said. I wasn’t sure I believed him. “I’m serious. It’s the rest of the world I have a problem with. The ones that seem bent on maiming you.”
“Did you see the person?” I asked.
“No, I didn’t even get the make of the silver car. I ducked when they slowed down in front of the townhouse. I didn’t even realize what they’d thrown until I saw the smoke.”
“I’ve royally messed up my Karma,” I said.
“I don’t know abou
t that. You’re a good person. Your heart’s in the right place.”
“You think I should give up?” I wasn’t sure I would be able to, but I would try if that’s what Finn wanted.
“I’m not saying that. It’s just, I’m sick of feeling like I’m going to lose you. This week has been crazy. You’ve stopped my heart more than once and I think I’m going to need a pacemaker after all of this.” He said the last part with a smile, but I knew what he meant. I was a smart woman who was making stupid moves lately. Either that or I needed to reevaluate my hobbies. It was probably a combination of both.
“I shouldn’t have let you go in there—”
“Come on, that’s ridiculous. You know very well that I wouldn’t get me a second look walking into that townhouse, but you probably would’ve gotten reported in a heartbeat. A Latina-looking woman with a bucket and cleaning supplies never gets noticed. It was a smart plan.” Well, smart enough. I hadn’t shared with Finn my second thoughts I had about a roommate after I entered the house.
“Not that any information you found would be worth it, but did you find anything?”
“I wish I could say—” I stopped myself and thought about Frederick’s French bulldog. “Wait just a second, I might have. Let me make a quick phone call. In the meantime, head to a pharmacy. With some tweezers, peroxide, and first aid cream, I should be good to go. Oh, and don’t forget the chocolate. Lots of it. And maybe some gin,” because I could sure use a dirty martini.
“Hey, Clarissa. Ziva. You haven’t by chance heard from Mr. Frederick, have you?”
“Actually, I did today.” I let out a relieved breath. It was good to know that he was still alive.
“He didn’t tell you where he was staying at, did he?”
“He didn’t, and honestly I didn’t even think to ask. Why?”
Here’s where things got a little tricky. I wanted a solid reason as to why I was asking without making Clarissa suspicious. I went with a half-truth. “I was just visiting a friend who lives by him when we heard there was a fire. I guess a pretty big one. I just wanted to make sure his puppy wasn’t home.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s awful. No, Queenie is probably with Ms. Darla. Mr. Frederick trusts only her with his little precious pooch.”
“Ms. Darla?”
“Darla Reynolds. She owns Puppy Dreams, the dog resort in town.”
“Awesome. I’ll give her a call. Maybe she can let him know. Also, if you talk to him again, can you give him my number?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.”
“Thanks, Clarissa!”
While Finn got the medical supplies, I did a little research before making my next call. My first idea was to pretend to be the office manager at Oasis trying to get a hold of Mr. Frederick due to the fire, but I thought that might be a bit of a stretch. How would the office manager know to call Puppy Dreams? I also didn’t want Ms. Darla to offer to pass the message on. No, I needed a more personal reason for requesting the information. I didn’t know how well Ms. Darla knew Mr. Frederick’s family. Hopefully it wasn’t well, but I couldn’t take any chances.
“Puppy Dreams,” a woman said into the phone.
“Hi, is this Miss Darla?” I asked as Finn got back in the car.
“Why yes dear, what can I do for you?”
“My name is Taylor Ray. I’m Mr. Frederick’s niece.” Thanks to Google, I knew that Mr. Frederick did in fact have a niece named Taylor. She was his sister’s daughter and an aerialist. According to the fashion columns, the two collaborated on costumes for her performances. “We’ve had a family emergency with my mom and I can’t get a hold of my uncle. He isn’t answering his cell phone. You don’t by chance know where he’s at do you?”
I could tell that Ms. Darla was debating giving up any information.
“He told me that you would have Queenie. I’m sure he told you where he was staying. I would ask my mom, but well, she’s not conscious.” Finn was looking at me wide-eyed, like he couldn’t believe the lies that were coming out of my mouth. I looked at him and mouthed, What? He shook his head.
“Did he provide a number where he was staying? It’s really important. My poor mom. My uncle would be devastated if she should pass without a chance for him to say goodbye,” I added.
That last part did the trick. “Yes, yes, yes. He did. I’m so sorry to hear about this, sweetie. I have the resort information written down right here. Just give me a minute and I’ll go get it.” I gave Finn a thumbs-up.
“Okay, here it is.” I scrambled to come up with something to write with. A tube of lipstick and the back of my checkbook would have to work. “He’s staying at Crystal Bay Resort in Belize. Here’s the number.”
I wrote down the digits she read off. “Awesome. Thank you so much. I knew if anyone could help us it would be you. You’re an angel.” After a few more thank-yous and you toos, I hung up the phone and found Finn staring at me in disbelief, again.
“Stop looking at me like that!” I said to him.
“That was quite the performance.”
“Did you want me to get the information or not? I mean, didn’t someone just try to burn me to a crisp? I don’t know about you, but I want some answers.”
“Uh yeah, um, right. I do too.”
“Okay then. Let’s go to Belize,” I said.
“Wait, what? We can’t just run off to Central America.”
“What else do you suggest we do?”
“Call the number and speak to the man,” Finn suggested.
“What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi, you don’t know me, but I was just snooping around your home office and it was firebombed. We need to talk.’” It seemed impossible to explain any of this via a phone call. Especially to a person I had never met before.
“Okay, call Detective Hart then. You don’t have to tell her about the firebomb, but you can tell her you know where Mr. Frederick is staying. I’m sure she can track him down through the proper channels.”
I folded my arms across my chest. Finn’s suggestion was more rational and responsible, if not also anticlimactic. “Fine, I’ll let Detective Hart know, but if anyone else tries to kill me, we’re going to Belize.”
“Deal. And look, I got the gin.” Finn held up a bottle of top shelf.
“Forget the gin. Right now, I need another one of those delicious shakes.”
14
Finn and I spent the night in and no one could fault us for that. Even relaxing in the hotel room, my mind continued to race. What did the numbers and notecards in Melanie’s desk mean? Who wanted to kill Mr. Frederick? Was it the same person who had killed Melanie and/or Lucia? Was Veronica somehow involved? This case really had me stumped.
On top of all that, Melanie’s presentation was being replaced by a roundtable of guest speakers. It was a last-minute scramble, and I told the conference organizers that I would help. I figured it was the least I could do, seeing as I pretty much blew off the rest of the scheduled events. This is also why I agreed to attend tonight’s networking event at Studio One, the art gallery downtown. Obviously, all of this was before a firebomb was chucked at my head yesterday. I couldn’t back out now, which meant I had to be back at the conference hall by 10 AM. Sigh.
I put on a pair of white slim-legged pants, a flowy peach shirt, and nude peep-toe heels. It was as much energy as I was willing to spend. I didn’t care if we were in Vegas or not. That was as glammed up as I was getting.
I was going to grab a quick bite downstairs when Aria texted me.
Got a minute for breakfast?
I looked at the clock. It was just after 9AM. If we stay on site. Have to be at conference at 10AM. Aria was good with that. I left Finn to sleep in and met Aria downstairs at Morning Euphoria. The local hot spot was famous for its upscale breakfast spread.
“How was your spa day?” I asked when Aria joined me at the table.
“Good,” Aria said, staring at my face. My expert Beauty Secrets makeup skills weren’t enough to fool her critical eye. I
knew she was dying to ask me about it, but our waiter stopped by at that minute.
“I’ll start with some orange juice,” I said.
“The same,” Aria said. “With vodka,” she added under her breath.
The waiter nodded and walked away.
“What in the world happened to you?!” Aria practically shrieked once we were alone.
“Firebomb at Paul Frederick’s apartment.” I ignored Aria’s horror-struck expression and grabbed a slice of banana bread from the basket on the table. “See, aren’t you glad I took Finn with me instead? I bet the spa was much nicer.”
Speaking of spa days, maybe I would book one tomorrow. Surely, I deserved one. Wait, didn’t I have a meeting with the Senses spa manager tomorrow to talk product placement? I’d have to check my email to see if she confirmed.
While I mentally reviewed my schedule, Aria’s expression thawed and out tumbled a stream of questions. “The police, did you call them? Do you know who did it or why? Did they get caught?”
“No to all of the above. I’m still trying to piece a few things together myself before I call anyone. Although I promised Finn I would tell Detective Hart and not fly off to Belize.”
“Belize?”
“That’s where Mr. Frederick ran off to.”
“You don’t know why someone would firebomb his townhouse?” Aria asked.
“Not really. The only two theories I have is that either someone wanted to kill him, or possibly destroy evidence. The Mercedes was parked in his driveway, so if someone was watching the house, maybe they saw the car there and thought that meant he was back in town. As for the evidence, I’m not sure what it could be. I didn’t get a chance to find anything significant.” My train of thought stopped there. Sitting a few tables behind us and looking fabulous was Veronica Mays and she wasn’t alone. A gentleman in business attire sat across from her. I could only see his side profile, but it wasn’t anyone I recognized.
Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2 Page 9
