"Uh, speaking of my case. I need a small favor," I said, coming to the point of my call.
"How small?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice.
"I'm trying to find someone, and I'm not sure official records are going to provide enough."
"Can't find an address?" Aiden asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
"The one I have is fake."
"Sounds interesting. Who is the guy?"
"Peter Rivera. He's a former Latin King…possibly current, but for the last few months he's been working at a catering company called Tasty Catering. They don't have any valid info on him."
I heard Aiden writing all of this down. "Anything in particular I should be looking for?" he asked. "Other than an address?"
I bit my lip. He was fishing for just who this Rivera was to me. The warning of no law enforcement rang in my ears. "We think he might be connected to a case we're working." A thought occurred to me. "In fact, I wonder if you could run a few names in connection with Rivera. See if he's had any dealings with them in the past?"
"Shoot," Aiden said.
"Wendell Manchester, Delphine King, and Kent Perkins." It was a long shot, I knew. But all I seemed to have lately was long shots.
I could hear him mumbling their names to himself as he wrote them down.
"I'll see what I can find."
"Thanks," I told him, meaning it. Aiden worked for the city. Technically, I was pretty sure his bosses would frown upon him using official channels to look up info for private investigators he enjoyed cuddling with.
"You really want to thank me, how about dinner tonight?" he asked.
I felt a smile take over my face, that warmth I'd felt earlier spreading through my body. "I'd like that," I told him, pulling up to the café. "I've got to go, but text me details later?"
"Will do," he promised before hanging up.
I parked, beeped my car locked, and entered the restaurant on a high. The hostess informed me that the rest of my party was already there, and I let her lead me to a table toward the back of the dining room. Already seated were Elaine, Charley, Maya, and some redheaded woman wearing large tortoiseshell sunglasses and a leopard print scarf wrapped around her neck several times.
It took me a minute, but when she scowled at Maya and waved off something Elaine said with a flippant scoff, I realized who the addition to our party was. Kendall Manchester. The disguise was a little over-the-top, especially since the wig was slightly crooked, but it worked. I didn't immediately recognize her.
"Jamie, it's so great to see you," Charley said as she stood up to give me a hug.
I pressed my hands to her back in the embrace and felt some of the day's tension slip away. Charley had almost started to feel like a second mother to me. When I'd first met her, Charley had welcomed me into her home and admired my investigative skills. I, in turn, admired her independence and adventurous spirit. A small part of me wanted to be Charley when I grew up.
"You look great," I said and gave an approving glance over her lemon yellow blouse. It brightened her face, making her cheeks look rosier than normal.
"So do you, dear." She patted my hand and returned to her chair. "How have you been, Jamie?"
"Busy." Looking for a friend who'd been kidnapped, lusting after two guys, one of whom I had no right thinking of in that manner anymore, and trying to figure out what was going on with a polygamist. "But good. How about you?"
"I'm very well. I've put my cooking classes on hold and am trying painting. Just as messy and rewarding but not nearly as fattening." She and Elaine both laughed.
While the details of the cooking class the two of them had taken together were still a bit hazy, they'd told me enough to let me know it had resulted in a few sleuthing moments of their own.
I took the empty seat beside Elaine, who looked toned down today in a light blue sweater and cheetah print skirt.
"How did your interview go?" I asked once we'd hugged and air kissed.
Her smile was full of happiness, which made me sweat a little. Did that mean she'd gotten the job and was leaving California?
"I think it went well, but I don't know anything yet."
"Oh good." It came out with a breath of relief.
She gave me a funny look, but I quickly covered. "Uh, good it went well," I added. I shot her a smile that was all teeth. "Have you ordered yet?" I asked.
Maya shook her head. "We just got here. We were running a little late." She sent a pointed look in Kendall's direction.
Uh-oh. If Maya's morning had been anything like Caleigh's evening, I could only imagine the reason.
"Yes, Maya was just introducing us to her friend…" Charley trailed off. "I'm sorry. I don't think you told us her name?"
Maya opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She glanced to Kendall and then me. Her nude shade of lipstick matched her skin tone so perfectly it looked as if her mouth was naturally blushed. "Uh, she's…"
"Tyra Bankston," Kendall jumped in, not missing a beat.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Seriously?
"I'm an old friend, from many years ago. I just got back to town and looked her up."
"That's exciting," Elaine said. "Were you a model too?"
Kendall's smile grew. I couldn't see her eyes behind those ridiculously large glasses, but I imagine they were lit with glee. "Still am. I'm on my way to Milan."
Elaine exclaimed a wide-eyed ooh. Charley didn't seem as impressed. She stared at Kendall long and hard and then looked to her daughter and me.
I quickly picked up my glass for something to do, afraid my surrogate new mother could see the truth in my eyes. Mothers always knew when their kids were lying. At least mine had. But maybe it had been from too many years of dealing with Derek.
"So Tyra, what cities have you visited?" Charley asked.
"All over, Paris, London, Tokyo." She suddenly switched her origins of birth and went into a British accent.
"What do you model? Runways, commercials, photo shoots?" Elaine asked, clearly still believing every lie Kendall uttered.
"All of them," Tyra Bankston said.
Of course.
Charley caught my eye, raised her brow, and pursed her lips, like she was scolding me. I took another sip of water to avoid her gaze.
Luckily the server, a wiry older guy with dyed black hair, came to take our order. "What can I get you ladies?"
Maya and I ordered salads—the Cobb for her and a grilled chicken for me. Charley and Elaine each ordered soup and sandwiches—creamy tomato and turkey. Kendall ordered three freshly cut lemon wedges (exactly three) and a veggie wrap on a gluten-free wrapper, with sustainably sourced vegetables cooked only in coconut oil, and only cage-free eggs used in the mayo, and could he please check to make sure the cloth napkins had been washed in dye-free, perfume-free detergent, because she couldn't possibly let them touch her delicate skin otherwise.
I cringed at the server's pained expression as he wrote all of that down.
"Uh," I asked him before he walked away. "Would you mind making my salad to go?"
He sighed heavily and nodded. I made a mental note to leave a big tip.
"You aren't staying with us?" Elaine asked, clearly disappointed.
"Sorry. I'd love to, but I'm in the middle of an important case." I glanced to Maya, wondering how to get her alone to find out what she knew about Riverside.
"I'm sorry to hear that. We don't get to see each other so much anymore," Elaine said.
I paused, jumping on the opening. "I know this is probably not my business, but how are things between you and Derek?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"Oh dear," Charley clucked. "Are you two still fighting?"
"I don't know if I would call it fighting. But he's still on thin ice. I'm pretty sure he hasn't even remembered that my birthday is coming up."
I bit my lip. I was pretty sure he had. What I wasn't sure of was how thin that ice was and if it would thaw or crack and consume h
im if he went all in with a birthday proposal.
"I remembered," Charley said with a grin. "Maybe we should all do a girls' weekend?" she proposed.
I glanced at Maya. Clearly she hadn't informed her mother of the surprise party yet.
"Uh, I don't know. We're pretty busy right now. I may need Maya to work the weekend," I said, hoping I didn't sound too suspicious.
I must have pulled it off, as Charley just nodded and murmured her understanding.
"What is taking that waiter so long?" Kendall/Tyra whined. "I need to eat my lemon exactly seven minutes before my food."
Elaine turned to her. "Why is that?"
Kendall shot her a well, duh look. "Um, hello? It's a mini liver cleanse that flushes any fat you eat right out of your body."
"I've never heard of that," Elaine mused.
"I saw it on Dr. Oz. It's totes true."
"Uh, I'm going to use the restroom," I announced to the table. "Maya, care to join me?"
"Please!" She practically jumped on the opportunity to leave Kendall behind for a moment.
She followed me to the back of the room, under the alcove to the restrooms.
"Tell me about Riverside," I asked in a hushed tone.
Maya pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her purse. "As it turns out, all three suspects have ties."
"All three?" That didn't narrow down my field any.
Maya nodded. "Delphine shot a film in an empty warehouse there a couple of months ago. Kent Perkins owns a condo, and Wendell owns two rental properties there."
It was a lot of ground to cover, but at least it gave us somewhere to start.
"I'm still working on tracking the owner of that bank account," she went on. "So far it's a string of shell corporations."
No surprise there. Obviously the kidnapper had taken care to cover his or her tracks.
"Thanks, Maya." I put the paper in my jacket pocket and started to head back to the table.
But she stopped me by grabbing my wrist. "You have to do something with her."
I frowned, not sure who her was. "What do you mean?"
"Kendall! I can't get anything done with her. These addresses," Maya said, gesturing to the papers she'd just given me. "They took me all morning. All. Morning. Every five seconds it was 'get me this,' or 'what's that ugly thing,' or 'why is it so hot in here,' or 'I'm bored.' She's driving me nuts, and I have a stack of messages to return. Not to mention that background check, and then there's that woman from The Spotted Pony, Tara, and…"
"Okay," I said, cutting her off by throwing my hands up in a surrender motion. "You are off the hook for babysitting duties."
A giant sigh of relief escaped her mouth. "Thank you."
I nodded, glancing to Kendall, who was touching up her lipstick in the back of a spoon.
"Just…grin and bear it through lunch, and I'll call in relief."
Maya nodded and headed back to the table.
I pulled out my cell and called Sam.
"Hey, Boss."
"So, um, you're used to dealing with kids, right?"
CHAPTER TWELVE
As soon as the food came, I grabbed my to-go box, told Maya to expense lunch, and said my goodbyes, promising Sam was on her way to take over with Princess Tyra Bankston. I ate my salad in the car, only getting a minimum of dressing on my lapels, as I drove to the office to pick up Caleigh for a road trip to Riverside.
Riverside was several miles east of Los Angeles, in the heart of the Inland Empire. Which made it sound a lot more grand than the desert-like temperatures, slightly affordable housing, and strip malls actually were.
The first location on our list, the warehouse where Delphine King had shot scenes from her last film, was located in eastern Riverside, bordering Moreno Valley. It was an industrial area that, according to Maya's intel, had seen a boom about twenty years ago—and was now largely deserted. Making it the perfect sort of place if you were afraid of someone overhearing a screaming and struggling exotic dancer.
But as we pulled up to the address, I realized her intel was off. Cars lined the street, and the address was a hum of activity with trucks, trailers, and rigging equipment. A movie crew.
"Apple can't be here," Caleigh said, craning in her seat to take it all in.
Just the same, we parked, exited my car, and walked to an open door.
Before we were able to step inside, a broad man blocked our path. He wore a headset and pushed the microphone up toward his ear. "May I help you?"
Luckily with my heels, I almost met his height and could look over his shoulder. The inside of the warehouse was as packed as the outside—crew, cameras, and actors dressed as some sort of blue alien race all mingled together.
"I, uh, was just wondering what you were shooting here?"
The guy took a menacing step forward. "This is a closed set. No fans."
I nodded. "Sure, I understand." I paused. "I was just wondering how long you've been shooting here?"
"Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"We're with the neighborhood watch committee, and we've had reports of some strange activity," Caleigh jumped in, smiling sweetly at the man.
"Neighborhood watch?" He glanced up and down the street at the largely abandoned warehouses.
"Uh-huh," she insisted. "Have you been here all week?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Since last Friday." He rolled his eyes. "It's taking forever to get the alien laboratory scenes done. Divas," he mumbled to himself. "What sort of strange activity did you say was reported?"
"Oh? Uh, well, you know, if you've been here this whole time, then they must have been mistaken. Maybe they just saw some aliens, right?" She gave him a wink and flipped her blonde hair over one shoulder.
He still looked confused, but he didn't pursue it as we quickly walked away.
"If they've been here all week, it's not where Apple is," I muttered.
"Agreed," Caleigh said. "Next on the list?"
I slid into the driver's seat again. "Kent Perkins' condo."
Which, it turned out, was located in a planned community next to—what else?—a sweeping green golf course. I tried not think about how many gallons of water it took to keep it unnaturally lush in the dry, hot climate. Kent's unit was at the back of the property, the second to last one. It was a two-story beige stucco duplex with black shutters and a two-car garage.
We parked at the curb, and I glanced around. All the other condos looked the same on the outside. Most of the driveways were empty. There was only one other car parked on the street, and that was ahead of us—a silver two-door Jaguar.
This place didn't look very secluded. What were the chances a kidnapper would use it to hold their victim? I couldn't tell if the other units were occupied, but the tenants all lived in close quarters. Wouldn't neighbors hear the screams of a kidnapped girl or have seen them bring her here? Perhaps not if she was drugged or gagged.
Caleigh paused on the doorstep. "Should I just knock?"
I stared at the house and its chocolate brown door. "Why not?"
She did, and we waited. The warm afternoon sun beat down on the back of my neck, making me sweat. She tried once more, and again we waited in vain.
"What are the chances it's unlocked?" I asked.
Caleigh shrugged and turned the knob. She pushed into it, but it didn't give.
Nope, definitely not unlocked.
Great. Now what? A thin cement path ran along the narrow side yard that stretched from the curb to the gate at the back. A fence ran from the side of Kent's condo to the next building, mere feet away. I walked along the path and peeked over the fence. The backyard was just a square piece of cement—no grass, not much space at all.
The gate was unlocked, thankfully, so we stepped through. There was a sliding glass door at the back of the condo with its blinds drawn. But as we got closer to the door, I paused.
I heard moaning.
It was a woman. Perhaps a woman with duct tape over her mouth who was trying to alert someon
e of her presence?
"Did you hear that?" I asked Caleigh.
She shook her head. "Hear what?" she whispered back.
I yanked on the sliding glass door, but it, too, was locked.
Crap.
The moaning sounded again, and this time, I could tell by the expression on her face that Caleigh heard it too. My pulse raced. We had to get inside now.
"Maybe there's a rock we can use to break through the door," Caleigh said and started looking around the yard, but it was spotless. Except for some scattered leaves, probably blown over by the wind, there wasn't a pebble, a twig, nothing that could get us inside.
"Maybe we can find a window," I whispered, moving around the building to the far side. I spied one a few feet above the ground. It was open a couple of inches, so I tried to push the sash up through the screen, but it wouldn't move. As Caleigh came up beside me, I slipped my keys from my pocket and pushed one of them into the mesh. With all my force, I drew the key from one corner of the bottom to the other, making a long gash.
When I got it torn enough to fit my arms inside, I pushed up the window. Thankfully that worked well, but the window was higher than I could easily get inside.
"I need a push," I whispered over my shoulder and managed to get the screen up and out of the way.
Caleigh bent and cupped her hands together, creating a mid-air step.
I placed one foot on her hands, careful to keep my stiletto away from her skin, and jumped up. After I pushed the upper half of my body through the window, I realized I was in the kitchen, directly above the shiny sink. I wiggled forward, and Caleigh shoved from behind…making me shoot through the window as if I were a cannon.
I yelped and tumbled to the floor, landing in a heap on my side. Ouch.
"Jamie?" Caleigh roughly whispered.
The moaning stopped.
"Shh," I said and listened.
After a beat, the moaning continued. I scrambled to my feet, unlocked the sliding glass doors, and let Caleigh in.
That was when I realized the kitchen's cabinet doors were open and empty. The appliances were in place, but there was no table, no dishes, no food. No one lived here. It made perfect sense to be a hideout.
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