Twenty
Charles liked filming Nicoletta.
She was grace personified. She was truly the most beautiful and enticing woman he’d ever met. He felt guilty even fantasizing about Gia Santella.
Nobody could compare to Nicoletta. She was all woman—soft and feminine and so perfect for him.
They got to the roof early, and not long after they arrived, the fog lifted and the city appeared before them. The Golden Gate was lit up, and soft, white, puffy clouds seemed to float right above it.
“We are so close,” Nicoletta said in a whisper.
“Yes. Hang in there, baby,” he said. “Just think, in another month, we’ll be on an island somewhere drinking margaritas and working on our tans.”
“Can I have a pina colada instead?” she said in her baby voice.
“You can have anything you want. You can have everything you want.”
She giggled.
“We’re going to have a little house, and maybe…we can have a baby?”
She wrapped her arms around her belly. “Please.”
“We can do whatever you want. You won’t miss the opera, will you?”
“No, honey. I just want to be with you. And have a family.”
There was still a slight chill in the air, so he held Nicoletta in his arms in front of him as they looked out over the rooftop.
“I love you so much,” she’d said. “You are the love of my life. You are truly my soul mate.”
He choked up a little. He glanced at the time. They had thirty minutes.
He kissed her neck roughly and then yanked down her leather pants. He took her right there on the roof with the entire city splayed out before them. She moaned and it turned him on so much.
She was always ready for him.
Afterward, she pulled up her pants, adjusted the black wig, and kissed him.
“You sure you can handle this, baby?” he asked, feeling suddenly protective of her. He loved her so much. He would do anything for her. He had done anything for her. Murder was nothing. But he didn’t know if he wanted her to go down that dark road. “Are you 100 percent sure, baby?”
He glanced up at the surveillance camera near the door.
Marshall had hacked into hotel security and froze the camera, so it wouldn’t show Nicoletta and him arriving. Five minutes before the meeting, the camera would activate again. He would hide in the shadows until after the murder. Then Nicoletta would run to the door and leave. Marshall would freeze the camera again while he snuck out and then start it up five minutes later.
His job was to just make sure he was off the roof within five minutes of the shooting. Easy peasy.
Marshall would do the rest. Instead of Nicoletta murdering Maxwell Carlton, the video footage would show Gia Santella shooting him dead in cold blood.
They’d discarded the idea of killing Jackie Fong when Oliver mentioned Carlton had gotten wind that Santella wanted to buy the hotel. He’d contacted the owner in Berlin and offered to pay double what Santella had offered.
It was the perfect motive for murder, so Charles had quickly adjusted his plans.
Nicoletta was excited about the chance to play Gia again.
“I just call his name and then walk up to him and shoot him?”
He cringed and closed his eyes. “Are you sure, baby?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’ll pretend it’s my stepdaddy. They sort of look alike anyway.”
Thinking of her stepfather and all the terrible things he had done to Nicoletta made his blood boil. Charles had killed the man after she told him. It had been his first murder. It had set the stage and laid out the path he was now on. He’d always loved Nicoletta and never regretted killing that sick son of a bitch. He’d killed him and then showered, dressed in a tuxedo, and taken Nicoletta to their senior prom. Nobody had been the wiser. They blamed it on a drug deal gone bad.
He squeezed her extra tight. “Okay, you think of Kevin, and you blow that motherfucker’s head off, okay, baby?”
“I will. I got this. Don’t worry,” she said and patted his cheek lightly.
“I just want to make sure. You don’t know what it’s like to live with killing someone,” he said, his voice suddenly soft. “It’s not easy.”
“I told you,” she said. “We need to do this right. If we’re going to get away with it—really get away with it forever—I have to do it. Plus, that way we’re both in it, right? That way, we’re bonded forever, right? Like Bonnie and Clyde?”
He winced. He wished he’d never watched that movie with her. All he wanted to say was that they both ended up dead at the end. Didn’t she remember that part?
The door swung open, and she walked toward the long rectangle of light before he could stop her.
“Hi,” she said in her soft baby voice.
“Nicoletta?” Carlton said, sounding confused. “I thought I was meeting…”
It was too late to stop now.
Twenty-One
Fifteen minutes later…
* * *
When the phone rang, the last person I expected to hear from was on the other line.
I’d only answered the phone, hoping it was James inviting me over.
It wasn’t James.
It was Maxwell Carlton, the general manager of the hotel.
“Can we meet? I have some concerns I’d like to discuss with you about the hotel and the gala. I think I know who killed Rosenbloom. But I’m afraid for my life.”
I flipped on the bedside lamp and looked around as if I could find an excuse somewhere in my hotel room.
“Why me?” I asked, wondering if he knew I was a suspect.
“Because Dante trusts you,” he said. “Right now, Dante is the only person I trust on that committee, and since he’s not around…”
“Why don’t you go to James?”
“That’s another reason I want to talk to you first—to see what you think. Then we can go to James together. You guys are old friends, right?”
“Yeah,” I said and let out a sigh.
“Listen, I’m up on the restaurant roof. Can you just run up here? It will only take ten minutes. I just don’t want anyone to see us talking, and during the day, there are too many people around.”
Everything in me wanted to say no. But…if he knew who the killer was, it could help me clear up this nonsense with the police. I’d hear the guy out.
I was sleeping in an oversized T-shirt, so I tugged on baggy sweatpants, grabbed a thick hoodie, and stuck my feet through my furry flip-slide slippers. No reason to get too dressed up. I was just going to turn around and go straight back to bed.
The elevator dumped me in the dark restaurant, and I quickly made my way through it to the door leading to the private roof.
I pushed open the door and shivered.
It was foggy and freezing up that high.
In the distance, I heard the low bellow of a foghorn. Creepy.
Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea ever. I didn’t really know Carlton. He seemed nice, but what if he wanted to do something to me? If he made a move, I’d give him a swift kick in the balls. He didn’t look very strong. Even if he had a weapon, I could probably take him down.
As I thought all this, I looked around. The roof appeared empty, but there was something dark by one of the huge air conditioning units. Even though the roof was lit by the hotel sign above, there were still pockets of shadow.
“Hello?”
Maybe I’d beat him there? No. He said he was already up there.
I cautiously made my way over to the dark shadows by the air conditioner.
Then I froze. It was Maxwell Carlton. He was lying on the ground.
“Mr. Carlton?”
I knelt down to feel for a pulse.
My hand came back sticky. I whipped my phone out of my pocket and turned the flashlight on. Lifeless eyes reflected in the glow.
He was dead. His head lay in a pool of blood. A pair of scissors stuck out of his neck.
I called 911 first and then the hotel front desk. Then I called James.
“I got a call from the hotel’s general manager, Maxwell Carlton. When I went to meet him, he was dead.”
“Jesus, Gia.”
“I know.”
“This isn’t helping your case.”
“Obviously, someone is setting me up, James.”
I sounded strangely calm even though I was shaking.
It didn’t matter how many dead bodies I saw up close, it never didn’t affect me. I had never wanted to kill people. But it had happened. I’d seen my fair share of bodies, some had died from my own hand.
“On my way. Where are you?”
“Roof above the restaurant.”
“Wait? There’s a dead body at your hotel?”
“The roof.”
Hotel security arrived first. Two burly guys drew their weapons on me as soon as they came out the door.
“I’m the one who called.”
Seeing them made me realize I’d been sitting there, unconcerned, the whole time when the killer might still have been around. Unlikely, though. I was sure Carlton had been killed as soon as we hung up and was miles away before I even made it up to the roof. It would have been stupid to stick around.
Finally, the police arrived. A red-faced young officer who looked Rose’s age took me aside. Where the hell was James?
“I’m freezing,” I said. My teeth were chattering, and I was shaking. “Can I at least wait in the restaurant downstairs.”
He frowned and then his partner shrugged.
Down in the restaurant, I was told to sit in a corner until the detective could interview me. I wanted to drop James’s name but figured they’d find out soon enough.
I was curled up in the chair and nearly asleep when a man in an overcoat and messy hair rushed in. He spoke with the police officers at the door and then they all looked over at me.
“I’m Detective Stone,” he said. “I understand you are a guest at the hotel?”
“Where is the commander?” I asked and blinked.
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Is there a problem?”
I reached for my phone and texted James.
“Should I talk to Detective Stone? Do I need an attorney? Where are you?”
“Something came up. Yes. Talk to Stone. Probably best if we just get this cleared up now.”
I turned to the detective. “All clear to talk to you.”
“I just have a few questions, then you can get back to your room. Why don’t you begin with where you were right before you came up to the roof?”
I told him about the call from Maxwell Carlton.
“Do you know each other? Is it normal for him to call you in the middle of the night?”
“Not normal,” I said. “I only met him the other day.”
“How did he get your number?”
“Good question. I wondered the same thing,” I said. “I’m assuming Dante gave it to him. But that doesn’t really seem like Dante, either. Usually, he would have asked me before giving it out. Dante is my business partner. He was the one who had me join the gala fundraising committee. Which is where I met Mr. Carlton.”
“Does it seem odd to you that he called?”
“Yes, very.”
“But you agreed to meet him anyway?” he asked in a voice that contained no emotion but instantly felt accusatory.
I shook my head. “Yeah. In hindsight, it was sort of dumb. I guess my only excuse is that I was tired. I still have some jet lag and was in bed when he called. At the time, it seemed to make sense, but now? No.”
“And he said he was calling because he had information about Rosenbloom’s death?”
“That’s what he said.”
“But you just met?”
I nodded. “Listen,” I said. “It doesn’t make any sense to me either.”
A woman in a beige trench coat and shaggy hair called his name. When I looked over, her eyes were cold.
“Excuse me,” he said and got up. “My partner is calling me.”
As soon as he walked away, I texted James.
“What the fuck is going on? Why aren’t you here. I’m starting to think my attorney should be here and I shouldn’t be saying shit.”
He didn’t respond for a few seconds. While I waited, I watched the detective and his partner across the room. They were speaking and glancing my way every once in a while.
My phone buzzed.
“Chief thinks I’m too close to the case. Called me off.”
“Motherfuck.” I typed.
The female detective opened her phone and looked at something. Then the detective nodded and came back.
“You and your partner are planning to buy this hotel, I hear?”
I clamped my mouth shut. How did he know. How did they find out so quickly?
I glanced over at the detective. She was speaking to the hotel manager, who had just arrived.
“We were trying to keep it on the down-low,” I said. “I was doing some investigation into financial inconsistencies before the sale went through, so we could find out who might be embezzling.”
The detective cocked his head. “Is this something you’ve done in the past?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
“Huh.”
He looked down at this notebook. I glanced over. It was a bunch of indecipherable scribbles.
I yawned. “Are we done? I think if you have any more questions I should have you speak to my attorney.” Despite what James thinks.
“One more question. Were you aware that Maxwell Carlton had also made a bid to buy the hotel?”
“What?” I was genuinely surprised. I shook my head. “No. I just got into town the other day from out of the country. Dante has been handling all of this for me. We were supposed to meet about the particulars next week.”
“Apparently, Mr. Carlton offered one million more than the asking price yesterday.”
How the fuck does he know all of this? I was confused.
“Yesterday?”
“We were only aware of it because he called our office this morning, saying that he had received a threatening phone call telling him to withdraw his offer or he’d be sorry.”
“You’re fucking kidding me?” I blurted. What the fuck was going on?
I could feel my face grow warm. This was insane.
The detective looked at me, working his mouth in a weird way. He was chewing on the inside of his lip as he watched me.
“Do you think that’s why he wanted to meet with me?”
I realized that this man was not on my side. He was looking at me as a suspect. It was time for me to bail.
“I’m done here. If you need to speak to me again, you can contact my attorney.”
He nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”
I didn’t answer. I felt his partner’s eyes on me as I walked toward the elevator. I didn’t like the way she was looking at me. I didn’t like the direction the detective’s questions had gone. It had been a huge mistake to talk to them both without an attorney. But James had told me it was okay to talk to Stone. And James was on my side. Or was he?
Twenty-Two
I waited until morning to call Dante, but wasn’t able to sleep at all.
Something was fucked up, and I seemed to have landed right in the middle of it all.
When dawn broke, I dialed Dante’s number.
He was not an early riser. The restaurant business was a late-night game.
“Everything okay?” were his first words.
“I’m not sure.”
I told him everything.
“This isn’t good, Gia,” he said. “I can’t believe James had you speak to the detectives without an attorney.”
“Yeah. Now I realize it was a mistake. A big one.”
“What was he thinking?”
“Did you know he made a bid? Carlton?”
“No. It’s odd. It doesn’t make sense. I talked to hi
m about the possibility of making an offer, and he told me I’d be making a mistake,” Dante said. “At the time, I thought it was because he thought it was a losing proposition. Maybe I misunderstood. I had no idea he wanted to buy the hotel. I had no idea he had the money to do so until just recently, when we started looking into the embezzlement.”
“How does he?”
“Not quite sure yet. It sure makes him a suspect in the embezzling situation, right?”
“A dead suspect.”
“Oh boy,” Dante said.
“I don’t like the way the cops are talking to me, Dante. They are trying to establish a motive.”
“They can try whatever they want. They can’t pin a murder on you that you didn’t commit.”
I frowned. “I’m not so sure.”
“I’m coming up there,” he said. “won’t be in until late tonight. I have some things to take care of down here first. I’ll book a room there, and let’s meet for breakfast?”
I instantly felt relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry. Your attorney is top notch. I wouldn’t hire anyone else.”
“I know.”
After I hung up, I was filled with relief and exhaustion at the same time. My all-nighter finally hit me. Knowing Dante was coming took all the fight out of me. I could relax. I rummaged around until I found an old melatonin tablet and, after popping that, crawled into bed.
I slept until two in the afternoon.
When I woke, my phone showed several messages. And the hotel phone was blinking. I played the voice message back on it first. It was Detective Stone.
“We’d like you to come down to the station this afternoon, at your convenience, for some follow up questions.”
I hit delete.
While I was listening to the messages, James texted. “We still on for dinner? Five at my place?”
Um, yeah. He had some explaining to do.
“Sure. Unless I’m in jail for murder. What the fuck James? I’m supposed to come down to the station now. Why did you let me talk to them without an attorney?”
I held my breath, watching the text bubbles until his message popped up: “You’re going to have to trust me. I’m working on it.”
Dark Justice Page 10
