Purview of Flashbulbs (Alexis Parker Book 15)

by G. K. Parks

  “Did you get a good look at him?” I asked.

  “Honestly, I didn’t see anyone. I just heard him thundering up the steps behind me.”

  “Did he say anything to you? Did he touch you?”

  “No.” She sniffed and rubbed her eye. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. The way those footsteps sounded, I was sure he was going to kill me. Probably stab me just like the prop dummy.”

  I inched to the edge of the seat. “What did the police say?”

  “I didn’t call them?”

  “Why didn’t the hotel?” I asked. Her eyes went to the door. “Scar’s handling it?” I was already on my feet and halfway to the door when she spoke again.

  “Alex, I don’t want people to know about this. It’ll encourage this type of behavior.”

  “I’m just going to ask your security chief what he knows. That’s it. In the meantime, I need you to try to remember everyone who went back to Clay’s suite and note who stayed after you left. I also need an approximation of your timeline from last night. What time you went to the club, left the club, left Clay’s, et cetera.” Without waiting for an inevitable protest or more questions, I opened the door on the trailer and pulled it closed behind me.

  “She told you what happened,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I copied his pose and stood on the other side of the stairs. “Where the hell were you when this was happening?”

  “I was upstairs. Clay Chaffey has ample security. My team and his team coordinated. They were providing protection for him and his guests. My people were making sure Dinah’s floor was secure.”

  “Did you get a look at the guy?”

  He sucked something free from between his teeth. His eyes remained facing forward. “When I opened the stairwell door, Miss Allen was the only person there.”

  “He heard you coming and escaped?”

  “Possibly.” He put his hands on his hips and exhaled. “The hotel has cameras covering the hallways on every floor. No one came out of the stairwell except Miss Allen and me.”

  “Not on any level?” I asked. He shook his head. “What do you think that means?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You think she’s crying wolf again?”

  He looked at me. “She didn’t cry wolf the last time. One of her handlers did. Dinah simply went along with the story. Honestly, they fill her head with enough lies and half-truths she might even believe it.” He was protective. For a moment, I wondered if he cared a little too much for his client.

  “But you’re clear-headed. You should know what’s really going on. Was someone waiting for her last night?”

  Scaratilli wasn’t comfortable with the question. “I personally checked for threats. The rest of the team was stationed in the adjacent suite to Miss Allen’s room. We were given access to the hotel’s security feed due to the special circumstances, and none of my men spotted anything amiss. We might not have been in physical proximity to Dinah, but we were monitoring the area. I would never let her out of my sight.”

  “Maybe the drinking and drugs made her paranoid. Perhaps someone laced her marijuana with hallucinogens. Does that seem possible?” I didn’t believe it, but I wanted to give him a noble way of saying Dinah was full of shit. It was also possible she’d been dropping acid or doing something else and failed to disclose.

  “She’s never acted irrationally before.”

  “It could be the stress of a big budget movie and knowing someone is out there,” I suggested.

  “That’s unlikely.” He turned and looked at the door to the trailer. “I’ve upped Dinah’s security to ensure someone is accompanying her at all times. I was wondering if Cross could send a team to look for clues. Investigations are the cornerstone of his business.”

  Dinah again. Once could be a slip, but twice might be love. “You should call and ask.”

  He glowered. “I’m asking you. Aren’t you a Cross Security investigator? Or does the master keep you on a tight leash?”

  “What do you think?”

  “You’re a strong woman who does what she wants.” His eyes held a challenge. “Will you have your people look for clues?”

  “That is why Dinah hired me.” I turned and opened the door to the trailer. “Make sure your team knows we’re on the same side of this.”

  Dinah was busy writing out her list. As she thought, she chewed on the end of the pen. I lingered near the tiny kitchenette which wasn’t more than a hot plate, microwave, and mini-fridge. Everything about this job was off. It had been from the beginning. Scar said there was no one else on the stairs. Fingerprint analysis indicated no one else touched the flowers except Dinah and her assistant. I’d been told the stalker in Los Angeles had been bogus. I watched as she continued to write, wondering if she wasn’t using Cross Security to make her claims sound legitimate. Could this be a publicity stunt? Was she faking it? She was an actress or a con artist as Cross insisted.

  “Here.” She held out the notepad.

  I tore off the two sheets of paper she had written on and read through the names. “Lance wasn’t there?”

  “No. Clay asked him to come back to party, but he declined.” Anger flashed across her face. “He was probably having a threesome. A few of the extras were all over him yesterday. He actually brought them to the club. Can you believe that?”

  “I thought the two of you were over. No hard feelings.”

  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t care, except he keeps insisting we are meant to be. It’s what the studio wants and what he wants.”

  “Is it what you want?”

  She brushed her hands on her pants and got off the couch. “I don’t know. We had fun, but if we aren’t working together on a movie, I’m sure he’ll be having fun with someone else. He has plenty of options.”

  “So do you.”

  Her eyes darted to the side, and a sly smile spread across her lips. “Touché.” At least she didn’t look as upset as she had when I first entered her trailer, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the puffy eyes were part of the act.

  Since I was banned from set and didn’t want to spend any more time with Dinah Allen who was proving more and more difficult to read, I begged off, insisting I needed to get a jump on the investigation while it was still fresh. She bought my excuse easily, saying she had a long day of filming and would likely have questions tomorrow. When I left her trailer, Scar remained stationed outside.

  “Airport rules,” I said to him. “See something, say something.”

  If he wasn’t doing his best to look like a tough guy, he would have smiled.

  I checked the time. Perfect. On my way to the office, I considered everything I’d been told and the few things I knew to be true. Most of it came from Dinah Allen and her team, but they couldn’t be trusted. It was all about spin, but I knew Dinah couldn’t have planted the dummy. The flowers, yes. The invisible man in the stairwell, another yes. But the dummy, which was obviously a threat, happened after she left for the day.

  When I arrived, I went straight to my office. Keying in my user name and password, I searched for additional information concerning the incident inside the hotel. Nothing was mentioned on any of the official news channels, so I checked social media. Dinah claimed she screamed so loud she must have woken the entire building. Perhaps someone mentioned something about it on their feed or left an angry review on the hotel’s website. Nothing. No sightings of Dinah Allen, Clay Chaffey, or any of the other celebs.

  “What are you doing here?” Cross asked. He looked less exhausted than the last time I saw him. His suit was sleek and wrinkle free. My boss was back to his impeccable self. “Shouldn’t you be at the lot?”

  “Did Dinah Allen’s people call you?” I asked. It was a little after six, early for Cross to be here.

  “No.”

  Shaking my head, I let out an annoyed grunt. “They should have. There was an alleged incident at her hotel last night.”

  “Alleged?” Cross found that one wor
d more intriguing than the possible incident. He shut my door and took a seat in one of the two client chairs. I told him what Dinah and Scar had said. “I’ll have a contract couriered over for her to sign. We should keep this official.” He seemed pleased to be able to add another A-list celebrity to his client list. “Good job.”

  “Who’s covering for me at the studio?” I asked.

  “Lancaster. He came from Chicago’s FBI field office. He’s been a consultant before. It’ll be fine. He’ll do what is expected and see what he can find out while he’s there.”

  “Great.” I didn’t know Lancaster had been FBI, but then again, I only knew most of my coworkers by name alone. “What about the list?”

  “So far, nothing concrete. A few names have criminal records, arson, sexual assaults, aggravated battery. You get the point.”

  “Lots of possibilities.”

  “I have people narrowing it down based on last known locations. Scaratilli did a decent job. He knows what he’s doing which is why none of this makes much sense.”

  “There is another possibility.” I wondered if I needed to voice it. Cross knew his shit, and he probably knew what I was thinking. “Dinah could be faking it.”

  “I considered it and have yet to rule it out. You’ve spent the most time with her. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know yet. After the morning briefing, I’ll drop by the hotel and see what they can do for me. Then I might check with a few friends in case they’ve seen or heard anything troubling.”

  “Remember, there’s a nondisclosure in place.”

  “I refused to sign. My investigation into Dinah’s stalker isn’t covered by that.”

  “It might not be, but anything that happened on set most definitely is.” He reached across my desk and picked up the phone. He dialed an extension and waited. “This is Cross. Review the terms of our NDA with Broadway Films and let me know what Miss Parker is permitted to discuss with outsiders. I’ll need your answer in an hour.” He put the phone down. “You need to be careful. I have no desire to be in litigation for the next two years.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He gave me a look, as if trying to determine if my remark was sarcastic. “If you need assistance, let me know. I’m handling this personally per the terms of our agreement with Broadway Films.”

  “What did you discover last night?” I asked, remembering the phone calls he placed before leaving the office.

  “Dinah Allen’s phone records.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “As am I.” He tapped on the table. “Staff meeting in twenty minutes. Don’t be late.”

  “No, sir.” And that time, he heard the sarcasm.

  Sixteen

  Nothing. The hotel cameras showed nothing. The stairwell didn’t have cameras, but the doorway to the stairwell was in clear view of a security camera. With a bit of cajoling and several phone calls, the hotel let me watch the footage. I checked the feeds from every level in the building from the time Dinah left the club until she left Clay’s room. Hardly anyone took the stairs, and the few who did either exited in the lobby or exited on another floor and presumably went to their rooms.

  “I don’t suppose it’s possible to question those guests,” I wheedled, hoping hotel security might throw me a bone. They did not. However, I paid attention and had a handful of room numbers memorized. I didn’t exactly need their blessing.

  After thanking them for their time, I took the elevator to Dinah’s floor and stepped out. Scar’s team was comprised of eight men. Four on, four off. I stood outside the security suite and knocked. A man who looked like a college linebacker opened the door in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

  “Alex Parker.” I held out my hand. “Mr. Scaratilli said you’d be expecting me.”

  “Yeah, nice to meet you.” He shook my hand and stepped away from the door. “This is our command center. Miss Allen’s room is across the hallway. Someone keeps watch outside whenever she’s there. One of us should have been outside Mr. Chaffey’s room last night, but he has his own security team who assured us they had it covered.”

  “But they didn’t.”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you check the stairwell after the incident?”

  “Scar did. He didn’t find anything. I went through the hotel’s security feed, but it didn’t catch anything. I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Do you have a key to Miss Allen’s suite?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I look around?”

  “Afraid not. Miss Allen would have to give you permission, and she hasn’t said anything to us.”

  “No one’s been in her room?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You’re not making my job any easier, mister.” I waited for him to offer a name.

  “Johnson, but you can call me Ty.” He offered a conciliatory smile. Unlike his boss, he was actually capable of showing emotion. “We sent the requested materials over to Cross Security. Did you not receive them?”

  “No, we did. I’m just following up with the hotel, and since I was here, I thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

  “Hi.” He grinned again, dazzling me with his pearly whites. A yawn escaped, and I backed toward the door.

  “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

  “That’s what the rest of the guys are doing.”

  I let myself out and checked the hallway again. Then I opened the door to the stairwell and stepped inside. Narrow staircases zigzagged in a box pattern from the lobby to the roof. The metal rails and banisters reminded me of the parkour course the stunt coordinator had set up on the lot, and I wondered how quickly someone with a bit of experience could climb from level to level.

  After searching for alcoves and hiding places, I didn’t find anything that would work well enough to avoid detection if Scar or a member of his team was on the hunt. Still, I checked every floor below Dinah’s. At least it was a little easier going down the stairs rather than up. Briefly, I exited on Clay’s floor. A sticky cam or surveillance device might have indicated how the stalker knew when Dinah was leaving the party and that she would be alone, but I didn’t find anything.

  The stairwell ran all the way to the parking garage beneath the hotel. With the support pillars and larger vehicles, a person probably could dodge the cameras and gain access, but that was iffy. They’d need to be quick and extremely careful. Still, it was the only explanation I had, unless Dinah was lying. I spoke briefly to the parking attendants, but no one saw anything. I hit another dead end.

  When I completed my walkthrough, I knocked on a few doors. It was early, but most people were up. Lying, I said I was with the hotel and investigating complaints about a woman being loud last night. No one remembered hearing Dinah scream, and since these were the people who took the stairs last night, I asked if they remembered seeing anyone lurking in the stairwell. As predicted, they hadn’t.

  As I made my way to the lobby, I wondered how anyone would know Dinah wouldn’t ask for an escort upstairs. Granted, I remembered her reluctance to take the elevator when she visited Cross’s office, so I considered that might be commonplace for the actress and something anyone who was paying attention would pick up on. But Scar followed her around like a puppy, except when she was filming. No one should have assumed he wouldn’t make the journey with her from Clay’s room back to her own, unless her stalker found a way to maintain eyes on Dinah’s security team. By the time I left the hotel, I was even less certain the incident actually occurred.

  My next stop was the club. It was just before noon when I arrived. The place was locked up tight. I banged a few times against the door, but no one answered. Unwilling to give up that easily, I called Cross. Normally, this would be a job for one of the assistants, but he gave me strict instructions to call him. So I did.

  Within fifteen minutes, a car drove into the alleyway. A man stepped out. He wore leather pants and a linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. He had a goatee and
sunglasses. The only thing missing was a gold chain around his neck.

  “You Alex?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Lucien called. He said you wanted to look around.” He unlocked the side door and held it for me. “Do you want the security footage from the door?”

  “Please.”

  He flipped on the lights. “You want a drink?”

  “It’s a little early.”

  “Never too early.” He went into the back while I surveyed the place. It was large. It could have been a high-end private club in Vegas with the velvet and suede couches, the gleaming hardwood tables, and the crystal chandeliers. The bottles behind the bar were three and four figures each. No wonder Clay chose this place to party.

  “Any problems last night?” I asked when he returned with a thumb drive.

  “Nope.”

  “No one tried to sneak inside?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly. They waited the polite six feet from the door. My bouncers made sure of it.”

  “Drugs?”

  He smiled. “Are you a cop?”

  “I thought Lucien called.”

  He held the grin. “Right. Well, either way, I plead the fifth.”

  “No overdoses? No one passing out drunk? No brawls? No one getting too handsy?”

  “It’s a club, darling, but no one had that much fun last night. For actors, they were tame. I’ve seen what real actors can do to a place. Shit, I figured Lance Smoke would have turned this into a sex club, but things were calm.” He sounded disappointed. “I will tell you the women in here were top rate. The men too.” He looked me up and down. “You should have joined them.”

  “Maybe next time.” I took the drive from his hand. “Did you hear any complaints?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Thanks for your time.” I looked around the room again. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom before I leave.”

  He pointed to a narrow hallway. “Help yourself.”

  I went inside, and after a quick check for illegal surveillance equipment, I searched the place. I didn’t know what I hoped to find. Honestly, I was grasping at straws, desperately trying to determine if an incident even occurred. Answers weren’t inside the club’s bathroom, just some discarded condom wrappers, an empty glass vial with cocaine residue, and some blood red matte lipstick. For shits and giggled, I placed the items in a plastic baggie and stepped out of the bathroom. The owner was sipping rye. He toasted in my direction, and I nodded and left. Next stop, Cross Security.