Dead Ringers

by Camilla Chafer

  "Maybe it was yours. Parked outside the Diamond Lounge on the Strip. Let's see, it must have been a couple weeks ago. On Friday night."

  Ryan shook his head. "You must be mistaken. The dealer told me this was the only car like it in the state and I'm pretty sure I paid extra for that kind of exclusivity. I'm sure that makes me sound like a jerk but we all have our poison. Mine happens to be that car."

  I frowned, pretending to be oblivious. "Then it must have been the one I saw."

  "It couldn't have been. A couple of weeks ago, you say? I was in Dubai that week and stayed until the weekend to attend a function."

  "Could someone else have driven it?" I asked, frowning.

  "I lock my keys in the safe when I'm out of town."

  "Huh."

  "Enough about cars." Ryan leaned forward, fixing me with a smile full of charm. "I don't want to be crass but I have another appointment soon and I know you wanted to talk money before you boarded your jet."

  "Darling!"

  I froze. I knew that throaty voice. I only narrowly avoided being caught and interrogated by her at the party. As I panicked, wondering if I should just run now and blow the conversation, Jessica Suarez bustled past me. Ryan Ellison rose and they extravagantly air kissed.

  "My husband and I are having brunch and when I saw you, I had to say hello. We barely got the chance to talk at the party and I have the most wonderful girl for you to meet," she continued without a glance at me. If I were lucky, she would ignore me entirely and go back to her table.

  "Send me her résumé," said Ryan. "You know Shay, of course? I'm hoping to get Shay on board with my new film. Perhaps a producer credit?" he added with a wink.

  I gave him a weak smile just as Jessica turned. On seeing me, she blinked. "Why would you want a journalist on your film?" she asked.

  "Journalist? No. Shay is an investor."

  "Hardly! Shayne is a reporter for the LA Chronicle. She barged into my office and accused me of all kinds of things," Jessica scoffed. Narrowing her eyes on me, she asked, "There's no way you have any money to invest. What are you really doing here? When I find out, I'm going to call your editor and demand you get fired immediately!"

  "What's going on?" Ryan asked, looking between us, confusion etched on his face. "You're a journalist? But you were introduced as a potential investor."

  "I wouldn't believe a thing she says. What did she ask you?" asked Jessica.

  I scraped my chair back, standing since I felt on edge with the two of them bearing down on me. Jessica looked furious and even disgusted to share her breathing space with me. Ryan was simply perplexed.

  "I don't know whom you think I am," I said haughtily as I was fully determined to continue with the lie because really, why the hell not at this point? "But I don't like how you're speaking to me. I think I'll take my investment elsewhere. If you'll excuse me I have a plane to catch to… somewhere!" I spun on my heel, almost tripping against the chair and strode out, leaving an eruption of noise behind me as the pair tried to work out exactly what happened.

  Once I reached the exit, I broke into a run and didn't stop until I reached my car. When I got inside the car, the image of their confused faces made me break into a belly laugh. Realistically, I knew the adrenaline was coursing through me as I got away with my escape, and that was what really made me giddy.

  Then I remembered what Ryan said. He was in Dubai the week Sammy was kidnapped. I grabbed my phone. A couple of minutes of online searching confirmed he told the truth. That weekend he attended a party in a very ornate hotel and was pictured no less than a dozen times in various publications. Unless he knew how to harness time travel or the power to teleport, Ryan wasn't the person who took Sammy.

  Ashleigh told me I was running a wild goose chase. My face colored with the reluctant acceptance that she was right.

  If I were dead wrong about Ryan, did that mean Ashleigh was dead right with the man she held in custody?

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Why so glum?" asked Hayden.

  I jumped and clasped a hand to my suddenly racing heart. I thought I sneaked into the LA Chronicle's offices without being detected. I waited until the advertising team walked in en masse and snuck in behind them, hightailing it to my desk where I promptly slumped into my seat, sinking down so I couldn't be observed over my cubicle wall. Part of the reason for hiding was avoiding Ben until possibly the end of my life. The other part was avoiding Bob in case he asked about all my office absences. Fortunately, both Ben's desk and Bob's office were absent both men.

  "I'm not glum," I told him, although my heart sank on the way over. I was so certain about Ryan Ellison's guilt that finding out he had an easily verifiable alibi to prove he wasn't a murderous psycho was a new reality I was unprepared to deal with. Also, once I admitted to Ashleigh that I was chasing the wrong perpetrator again she would probably think I was an idiot. So much for my investigative skills! Clearly, Ashleigh had a better lead than I did. All I could hope was she would still share the story with me once Sammy was found. Even better, would she share her perp’s name now? Probably not.

  "You look glum. Your smile is upside down," teased Hayden. "What happened? Did you have a terrible afternoon at your buddy's place yesterday?"

  "No, that was fun. Well, except for the part when we had to convince Daisy to get a bodyguard."

  "A bodyguard? Sounds serious! What does she need one for?"

  "Don't ask," I sighed. "I'm just glad she agreed to get one."

  "Huh. So, that's your buddy. What about you? Get a flat tire? Break a heel? No, it has to be worse… sports reporting?"

  I held back a laugh. "I chased down a lead that turned out to be a complete waste of time. Actually, my whole investigation turned out to be a complete waste of time," I admitted.

  "Don't look at it that way."

  I glanced up at him. Hayden folded his arms across the top of the cubicle and waited patiently. He really was cute. Perhaps I should introduce him to Ashleigh? He never mentioned a girlfriend so I assumed he was single. "Which way should I look at it?" I asked, pushing the thought to one side for now.

  "That you eliminated a possible suspect and now you can move onto your other suspects."

  I slumped further in my chair. "I don't have any other suspects."

  "Sure you do. Take a look through your notes and see who stands out. There must be someone or something."

  I brightened a little. I had to race through my research due to the volume of it. Could I have missed something? Ashleigh found a new suspect. Could I identify him too? "How did you get to be so wise?" I asked.

  "I listen a lot. I read. I absorb things and then I spout them into the world like my wisdom comes from within… or something like that. Did it help?"

  I felt some of the tension drain out of me as he made me laugh. "Yes, thank you."

  "Listen, I know something that will cheer you up. Why don't we head over to my studio and I'll take your byline photo and you can tell me all about your troubles over lunch. How does that sound?"

  "Expensive." Photography wasn’t factored into my monthly budget and I wasn't sure Bob would cover the cost of the session. Perhaps Hayden's temporary salary would include it since the newspaper would use the photo? Then I brightened; Hayden had already generously offered to do the work for free!

  "Like I said before, it's a gift from one colleague to another but if you feel especially guilty, I like the deli we went to for lunch and I am craving another one of those paninis."

  "Done," I said as I leaned in to shake his hand.

  "Let's go. I have to cover a rally this afternoon but until then, I'm free if you are."

  "I am. I just need to make one phone call and then I'll be ready."

  Hayden told me to call him when I was done and he left to pack up his things. I shut my laptop and called Ashleigh.

  "I had to double-check my lead didn't pan out," I told her. "He has a watertight alibi. He wasn't even in the country when Sammy was abducted. I
was so wrong."

  "I'm sorry but I'm glad you found out for certain," said Ashleigh. Busy sounds from her office filtered through the phone along with what sounded like Ashleigh making a coffee.

  "How's your guy? Any movement in the case?" I asked.

  "The team found a cabin an hour outside the city that is registered to his parents who are both Florida snowbirds…"

  I sat up straighter, anticipating good news. "You did?" I interrupted.

  "We drove out first thing this morning and nada. Place had a thick layer of dust and the only living thing we saw was a raccoon. We headed directly back to the station. If I weren't glad that we got to at least search the place, I would have to say it was a waste of time. This guy sent us on a wild goose chase."

  "He gave up the address?" I asked, surprised.

  "Yeah, eventually. Said he forgot all about it since he never goes there and it's his parents' place."

  "He forgot? That's lame."

  "That's what we thought. We figured he was using typical delay tactics. It could have been to prevent us from finding a secondary location."

  "So you still like him for it?"

  "Yes, but I can't deny the urgency of finding locations linked to him. The longer we have him in custody, the longer Sammy could be hungry or harmed and needing medical treatment."

  "I understand. Can you let me know if there are any new developments?"

  "Sure."

  "Have you heard from Daisy about her bodyguard?" I asked, switching topics.

  "Only that he's due to start tomorrow. Her show hired him from an agency they have a contract with so she doesn't have many details. When she called, I told her the agency was legit and a lot of the bodyguards are ex-cops. I think she'll be fine."

  "Tomorrow? Even after all that crazy mail? I would want him to start yesterday!" The idea of Daisy not having protection for another day worried me.

  "That's what I said but she assured me she's only moving between the studio and home and she has a driver who is familiar to her so she feels safe. Looking at it objectively, none of that mail was sent to her home. She was never approached there or outside it, and no one has made any threat to her in person. It's only because we're her friends that we're worried."

  "That and because there're two dead women and three other missing women that look just like her," I reminded her.

  "That's not conclusive," pointed out Ashleigh. "Yes, they look a bit like Daisy but Daisy's crazy fan mail and my victims don't seem to have anything else in common."

  "Am I worrying excessively?" I asked.

  Ashleigh laughed softly. "No, you're just being a great friend."

  "I have to go," I said as Hayden waved and indicated his bag. "I'm having a photo shoot with the paper's temp photographer, Hayden, to cheer me up for failing completely at my job."

  "You're not failing, Shayne. See it as an exciting, fun break to refresh your mind. Send me the photos."

  I promised I would and we disconnected. Since I didn't even have time to fully unpack my bag, I was ready. I waved to Hayden and made walking mimes towards the doors with my fingers.

  We headed to the deli first to pick up lunch, then Hayden insisted on driving us both to his studio rather than me following him in my car. He explained it wasn't efficient for us both to drive when he could take us in his electric-powered car.

  "Was it important?" he asked when we climbed in.

  "Was what important?"

  "Your phone call."

  "Oh, no. Just swallowed some humble pie."

  "Sounds like no fun. I figured you were checking in with your friend about the bodyguard."

  "No, she won't be assigned one until tomorrow but she's only going between work and home so she'll be okay. She has to work late every night this week so I'm glad she'll have someone with her."

  "I guess that's a huge relief for you."

  "It is. I'll check in on her later."

  "Cool. Hey, did I tell you about the time I took the photo of an A-lister who tried to punch me?" asked Hayden.

  "No! Tell me everything," I replied and Hayden launched into the story.

  The journey took us to an attractive residential street with rows of lovely houses showcasing pretty gardens. He pulled onto the driveway of one and smiled. "Home," he said. "Also, work. I'll take you to the studio."

  "This is so lovely," I commented as I followed him along one side of the attractive arts-and-crafts house into a yard filled with flowers, mature shrubbery and trees. We headed towards a building.

  "Thanks. Not that I can take any compliments for it. My grandparents owned this place."

  "The garden is exquisite. You have this all to yourself?"

  "I do. My grandparents were both enthusiastic gardeners. I couldn't let all their hard work go to waste and, since I don't have a mortgage or rent to pay, I set aside some money to hire a gardener until I learned what to do. They used to come by once a month and spend a couple of days chopping, mowing, weeding and doing whatever else gardeners do but lately, I've found it relaxing to spend more time out here."

  "I think it's charming. You're so lucky to have a studio too," I added as we walked towards the brick building.

  "This used to be the garage but I reclaimed some of the driveway to turn it into a patio area since I don't need to drive up to it. My grandpa had a car dealership but he couldn't stop tinkering when he was at home so Grandma made him build something where he could hide all his work instead of leaving it out in plain sight," explained Hayden as he pulled keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. "Mind that loose slab," he added just as I stumbled on it. "Sorry, I keep meaning to fix that."

  I wiggled my toes. "I think I'll survive," I grinned. "When did you turn it into a studio?"

  "I didn't do anything with it when I first inherited the house because it took a while for it to feel like my home and I had to save up the money. Then I started to think it was a better investment to work from home rather than renting a studio so I redid it into a photography studio a few years ago. I began by sheet-rocking the walls and installing a new floor and updating the electrical work. Again, I'm lucky I don't have to hire a space for my portrait work."

  "Is that what you do most of the time?" We stepped into a light-filled space with pale wooden flooring.

  "I'd like to but the reality is the newspaper and magazine work is what pads my income. I don't specialize in family portraits, which a lot of people like. My clientele are usually people who want a beautiful shot of themselves or headshots for their résumés. I've shot a few celebrities for magazines and advertorials and I'd like to pursue that direction but that area is pretty hard to break into. I'm still making contacts, networking wherever I can."

  "I'm happy to hand out your business cards if you like?" I offered.

  "I don't want to snap your hand off but I'd appreciate it. There's a stack of cards on the bookshelf over there. Grab whatever you think you'll need."

  I found the business cards on a tray on top of the waist-high bookshelf and spent a moment browsing the books on the shelves while Hayden busied himself around the studio. The books were predominantly thick, glossy, coffee table books. Famous photographers, fashion designers and exhibition guides stood alongside technical manuals. When I finished, I moved around, noting the whitewashed walls, the large roll of paper suspended from the ceiling against one wall, and the vast array of lighting equipment and cameras. A couple of large ferns sat in pots in the corner and the tall windows overlooking the garden flooded the studio with natural light. A room divider cut off part of the space and I ducked behind it to find a big rack of costumes placed against the far wall. I wandered over to take a look at the various workers’ costumes and the boxes of props. I rummaged through them, amused at what I found. When I stepped around the divide, I asked, "Is this a good look?"

  Hayden stifled a laugh. "Maybe lose the fake nose and glasses. But the feather boa really works for you."

  I took them off and dropped them into the box wh
ere I found them. "What's all this stuff for?" I asked.

  "I used to do stock image photography and I needed a bunch of props for scenes. Handsome UPS guy. Dog wearing oversized glasses. Baby wrapped in feather boa. That sort of thing. I get a trickle of money from them. Hardly anything really, but it actually helped a lot when I started out."

  "Do you have any albums I can look through? I feel rude for admitting I don't know your work."

  "I wouldn't expect you to, so don't feel bad about that. There are some albums on the desk over there. That door is my darkroom and there are lots of chemicals and stuff so please don't open it," he said, pointing.

  "No problem."

  "Let me know if you like any particular poses and we'll work them in."

  "Hey," I said, realizing something. "I'm really not dressed for a photo shoot. I'm barely even wearing makeup. I should probably grab something from home."

  "Don't worry about it. You look great in that outfit. Just the right blend of professional but cool. But if you want to change, there's probably something lying around that will work. This might end up being a practice shoot anyway. We can decide what looks good and then I can call a makeup artist I know and get everything done properly. There's no rush, right?" Hayden smiled.

  "You're being so nice," I told him. Was a sandwich really enough for all the time and effort he was putting into this? The very least I could do was hand out his business cards to some of my celebrity stories. Maybe Daisy would know people who could commission him? I started to open my mouth to suggest it, then thought better of it. I should ask her first.

  "I'm in it for the sandwiches," Hayden joked, pointing to the deli bag. "Besides, you seemed a little down and I thought this might make you happy. You can talk about it if you like."

  "It's not really a work thing," I said as I walked over to the desk where several large albums were strewn. I picked one and opened it.

  "Is it that dark-haired guy you keep staring at? Ben?"

  "What?" I nearly dropped the book. "No!"

  "Ahh." Hayden nodded knowingly.

  "Fine, it is. Ben is my boyfriend."