Hot Off the Press (A Hailey Webb Mystery, Volume 1)
Page 11
“The auction. Right! You're in.”
“Besides, Jerry only cares about the end result. How you come about that information, well, that’s up to you.”
“End result. Got it.”
“See you at the party!” He held up a hand, and he was on his way.
I sank back against my seat and closed my eyes, a feeling of disappointment sweeping through me. This was supposed to be my new start, and the past kept creeping in. I hated having Mike know about the stuff with Connor. I felt like I was naked, like someone had seen through me.
But there was no time to brood. Those lunch orders, after all, would not pick up themselves.
Chapter Twelve
“All right, you win,” I told my empty kitchen shelves. “I’m going grocery shopping now!” With all the excitement, I’d once again forgotten to stop by the stupid store. Now, I stared into a fridge so empty that it echoed. Good thing the auction wasn’t until eight, and I’d left work a little early, so I had some time.
Grabbing my reusable bags, I hopped into the Jeep and headed over to the closest grocery store. On my way, I received a handful of texts from my mother confirming we were on the list for the evening’s gala and that she expected photos of me in my dress.
Mom, it’s not the prom, I texted back once I’d parked the car. I rolled my eyes. Who had time for pictures? I had to eat something fairly quickly and get dressed.
Inside the store, I grabbed a cart and headed in to find some things to fill the void until that first check came in. I was contemplating buying something healthy too, like fruit, when my phone vibrated.
“Hey, Kat,” I said, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder. I picked up a can of tomato sauce and some spaghetti noodles. Jury was still out on the fruit. “What’s up?”
“So, do you remember the overly eager intern that showed us around Pearlrover?” she began without preamble. “We went out last night, and he’s just as enthusiastic about, well, other things, as he is about work.”
I chuckled. “Good for you, Kat. Listen, I’m out shopping. Can we talk about this tonight?”
“But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
I took a deep breath, leaning against the grocery cart. “All right, Kat. What is it?”
“Intern Boy got asked by his boss to be there at the auction, to smile for the VIPs and all of that. So—”
“You’re going to be his date,” I finished the sentence for her.
“Yeah, kinda. You mad?”
I laughed. “Why would I be mad? I’m happy for you.”
I could almost see Kat beaming. “Thanks. And check this out. Intern Boy told me they’re auctioning O’Connell’s haul tonight. How’s that for some sleuthing?”
Just as I thought. I could feel a grin spread across my face as I reached the section with the wine. “Excellent,” I said. “Looks like Intern Boy has stolen my plus-one, but we got good news all around.”
I’d miss the comfort of Kat by my side at this big affair. Still, it might be better this way. My best friend’s new obsession would hopefully distract her when she was introduced to Mike. Since Kat was convinced a new man was the answer to my problems, I was expecting an all-out campaign to turn him into “the one.”
“He said to meet him at the place since he has to be there early.” Kat interrupted my thought process. “Give me a ride?” she asked.
“Let me meet you there as well if that would be okay. I was gonna grab a cab, and I’m kind of rushed tonight.”
“No worries. That works too.”
“Great. Look, I really need to run, and I’ll see you tonight, okay?” I put a bottle of red into my cart without looking too closely at the label, just the price. I finished my grocery shopping in record time. I wanted to get home and make sure that dress was still real, that I hadn’t just dreamed up that magnificent creation. I couldn’t wait to put it on again and feel the soft fabric hug my body.
Later, after taking a quick shower and drying my hair, I put on my makeup and pulled back my blonde curls with a glittering clip. All the while I kept my eyes locked on the dress, still in its plastic protective covering. When it was finally time to put it on, my hands were shaking with excitement. The dress was just as perfect as I had remembered. The beading fit against my chest, glittering faintly in the lamplight. I stood back to admire the beautiful stranger in the mirror, taking in the silky, velvety folds of the exquisite garment.
I felt a thrill shoot through me as I put on my new heels and found my purse, checked my phone, and turned off the bedroom lights. My cab was on the way, and I couldn’t stop glancing at myself in every reflective surface that I passed. By the time my driver got there, I was nearly bursting with confidence. Connor, if he was there, would see exactly what he’d lost.
Feeling light-headed, I walked out of my apartment feeling like a princess on the way to a ball. My very friendly driver and I didn’t hit any traffic on the way into town, so we made it in time and then some. I glanced out the window, my jaw dropping when I spotted Kat. She was showing a lot of leg, and her neckline was on the daring side, but she looked stunning in green and glitter. It wasn’t any wonder that a small group of men was hovering around her. I took a deep breath, smiled at my driver as I paid him, then popped out of the car, hoping I didn’t stumble over the edge of my dress.
The venue was magnificent: a former opera house, all gleaming glass and marble. Kat gaped at me as I climbed out of the car, her eyes widening at the sight of my dress.
“Okay, I’m super jealous,” she said. “Where on earth did you get that?”
Much to my delight, the men’s attention all shifted to me.
I grinned. “Believe it or not, one of my mother's favorite stores. When did you get here?”
“About ten minutes ago. This place is a madhouse,” Kat said, gesturing widely to the grand stairway that served as the entrance to the building. It looked like someone had spilled a bag of glittering confetti all over the stairs; there were so many sparkling dresses of every imaginable color, their brightness set off by the blacks and whites of the tuxedos.
Employees in suits checked people in, making sure every guest was on the list. As expensive-looking cars moved into the circular drive beside me, I hoped my mother had remembered to get us on that list. A parade of regal partygoers alighted from the cars and moved up the marble steps.
“How did your roommate hunting go?” I asked.
Kat shrugged noncommittally. “We’ll see. I have a few more interviews tomorrow.”
“That’s not a big surprise; you’re in a part of town everybody wants to be.”
Kat made a face I couldn’t quite read. “I don’t know who to pick, Hailey. None of them is like you, and I know I get along with you.”
A sharp stab of guilt cut through my chest. “I’m sorry, Kat.”
But she didn’t frown for long; Intern Boy had found us and was sidling up to Kat like a man possessed. He never even looked in my direction, he was so entranced with her. I laughed and shook my head; Kat had a way with men I would never have. When she had her charm turned up at full volume, hardly any man was safe.
While the two lovebirds made eyes at each other, I glanced around, still in awe of the glossy finery and the glowing jewels. There was no sign of Mike, who had told me he’d be here by now. We were supposed to meet out front. It was starting to get a little chilly, and I was ready to head in.
“Who you looking for?” Kat asked.
“Just some guy from the Gazette who’s working on the story.”
Kat’s eyes lit up. “You got a date!”
I laughed. “What part of that sentence implied 'date' to you?”
But she didn’t hear me. She was too busy giggling with her own date, who was tickling behind her ear.
I finally caught sight of Mike, who was looking like a polished jewel even in the midst of this classy crowd. His suit was cut perfectly to fit his tall and muscular shape.
“Come on, guys,
” I said as he made his way to us. “We should really get inside before we miss the auction.” I nodded to Mike to indicate he should follow us into the line. I frowned at Kat and her date to get them to quit cooing at each other long enough to move into the party. They at least had the decency to look embarrassed, and I pretended not to notice when they kept “accidentally” bumping into one another as we lined up for security.
We didn’t have to wait long; they had a lot of incredibly efficient staff. I looked around, having somehow lost my co-worker in the crowd. Where did he go now?
“Your name, ma’am?” the security officer asked politely.
“Hailey Webb.” I smiled at him, trying to hide the fact that I felt a little nervous. My palms started to sweat as he looked through his list and paused.
Finally, he smiled. “Here you are,” he said. “May we have the name of your plus-one?”
“Mike Hadfield,” a smooth voice said from behind my right elbow. “Sorry that I’m late, darling,” he said with a wink, appearing at my side. “Were you waiting long?”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Forever,” I told him teasingly as he wrapped his hand around my arm. “You’d better watch the ‘darling’ bit,” I said in a low voice.
“You’re cute when you’re stressed,” Mike said.
I rolled my eyes as we made our way into the building with its soft carpets and high ceilings. “Would you have gotten in if I hadn’t gotten tickets?”
“I might have pulled some strings, but this is better, don’t you think?” He gave me a small smile. “You clean up nice.”
“I wish I could say the same about you,” I teased, knowing full well how many eyes were likely drawn to Mike. His familiar citrusy musky scent made me swoon a little before I told myself to get my act together. I had a job to do.
The inside of the building took my breath away. Massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, throwing white light and rainbows over the walls and ornate marble floors. Stained-glass windows in abstract patterns reached from the ceiling to the floor, their huge panels throwing colored light across the room. Servers held trays filled with tiny, delicious-looking food and tall, thin glasses of champagne. The room was brimming with people, all of them buzzing about the items to be auctioned off and the recent death of the man who’d found them. It was amazing, really, that I was about to get a look at the pricey treasures at the center of the story.
Someone made a brief announcement the auction would begin at nine. The excitement in the air seemed to increase a notch as the crowd continued to mingle and talk loudly.
“We should get a number for the auction!” Kat said excitedly from my left. Her voice was already bubbly from the champagne, and I noticed that her glass had become almost empty in nearly no time at all. Her eyes were wide and glassy, and her smile made her look like she was ready for anything.
“I don’t think so, lady. You can’t afford any of this, and neither can I,” I said. “Hand over your wallet if you’re going to be drinking.” I held out a hand.
She complied without complaint. “You’re probably right. What would I need anyway with an ornate pistol?”
“The answer to that question might scare me—quite a lot,” I answered. Content that there wouldn’t be any regrets in the morning, at least not from insane purchasing decisions, I told Kat to go mingle and have fun.
“So,” I said, turning to Mike. “Any news about the case?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered, snatching two flutes of champagne from a passing tray. He handed one to me. “It's pretty amazing how you got us into this place.”
“Oh, I just . . . know people.” I touched my hair self-consciously. “Did the police tell you anything new?”
“As is typical,” he said, “the cops are giving me as little information as they can. Ongoing investigation and all. And Pearlrover is saying that they’re deeply saddened by the loss of a fine employee and are cooperating fully with the police to see that justice will be served. Blah, blah, blah. The usual.” He looked around at the huge crowd. “But from the looks of this, it appears they have bravely rallied from the sadness they profess to have. The show must go on. They live off the profit.”
“Yeah, this seemed really quick.” I took a drink of my champagne. “So, have you learned any more about the victim?”
He smiled. “You are really fascinated by this, huh?” Then his face grew serious. “Look, I understand your personal connection, but what do you hope to achieve? My gut is telling me there is something weird going on here. I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels dangerous to me.”
I took another sip, maybe a little bit too quickly. “I don’t see you backing off this story because it feels a little scary.”
“Hailey, it’s my job.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you noticed where I work? All I want to do is help, and, hey, I got us into the auction, didn’t I?”
I think he realized at that point he would lose the argument. He sighed and inclined his head toward a man at the center of a small group to our left. “That one, over there, that’s the CEO, Kurt Larsen.” Larsen was a big man with wide shoulders and a serious expression. “He’s a bigwig around town, makes more money than you or I will see in our whole lives,” Mike said.
“Hey, speak for yourself. This girl has big plans.”
He laughed out loud. “I don’t know how you’ve gotten this far being so damn feisty. Or maybe that’s just the reason. Anyway, standing there with him are his top four investors, all of them bigwigs. Harland Ebbitt, Edward Mantovan, and Miriam Reisenfeld are the top ones. There’s also Kai Hiroyuki. The rest are pretty small fish.”
I nodded, glancing at the faces of the VIPs. They looked happy enough to be there. None of them looked nervous despite the recent tragedy.
“You have certainly done your homework,” I told Mike. “Do you have a theory?”
“For?” he asked, turning back to me. There was something curious and appealing about those blue eyes of his; his eyes pulled me in with their mix of light and dark.
“For who killed Derek O’Connell,” I whispered.
He shook his head. A wisp of his slightly shaggy hair fell loose from its carefully brushed-back state. I swallowed, my words gumming up my throat. “Do you think they killed him because of . . . well, because of these?” I glanced at the treasures, which I had just then spotted glittering in a case.
“I’ve heard rumors to that effect, and my gut tells me yes.”
I sighed, glancing down at my new high heels, still trying to puzzle out a theory for a motive. How did the CEO and his investors really feel about this murder? Was there some way they could profit from the loss of a successful treasure hunter? If there was, I could not imagine what it possibly could be. Who out there could benefit from the death of Derek O’Connell? That was the million-dollar question, I supposed.
I glanced around the room. There were so many people there. A shiver ran down my spine. I could be in the same room as a murderer.
“O’Connell didn’t seem to have any friends, family, or girlfriends. They say he was a loner, so I'm thinking this isn't personal; it’s most likely about money, right?” I nibbled on my thumb absently as thoughts spun through my head. “But yet again, what do I know?” I began feeling antsy, tired of standing still, my head filled with questions I had no answers for. “Well, I might as well have a look around.”
Mike winked at me then disappeared into the crowd, leaving me a little dizzy. I felt like a lifeboat adrift in an ocean of old money. I downed my champagne and grabbed a lemon-flavored water before I dove into the crowd. In the middle of the room, I paused, pretending to be searching for someone. Secretly, though, I was eavesdropping on a group beside me. From their conversation, I could tell they were investors.
“Brilliant as always, is it not?” an older man asked me. His smile made his mustache curl up at the corners like he was a cartoon villain.
“It’s quite the party,” I sa
id, giving him a friendly smile. “Even if there does seem to be a hint of sadness in the mix.”
“What do you mean, young lady?” another man asked. A much younger woman clung to his arm, looking overwhelmed by the whole affair. She remained completely silent as we spoke.
“I mean the death of the treasure hunter.” I arranged my features in what I thought to be an appropriately somber look.
Some of the patrons appeared to share my feelings, but most just lost the giddy smiles on their tipsy faces. “Such a shame about the poor bloke,” one man said with a thick English accent.
I held up my water. “To the treasure hunter!”
The others in the group joined wholeheartedly in my toast then turned to other subjects.
From everyone I talked to, I heard the same story. No one knew him. Everyone was sorry or angry over what had happened, but no one seemed to know anything more than me. However, I did get to see the amazing treasures that O’Connell had discovered right before his death. Everything glittered and shone; the coins, the jewelry, the decorative cross, and even the ancient-looking pistols were all made of gold.
Frustrated by my lack of progress, I found somewhere to sit for a moment and nibble on some of the delicacies set out artfully on long tables filled with flowers and candelabra.
Five minutes later I was joined by Mike.
“I can’t find out anything,” he said. “No one knows a damn thing—or if they do, they're not saying. Not O’Connell’s fellow divers, none of the investors.” He forked up some food from his plate, which was piled high with caviar, crackers, cheese, meatballs, dessert, and lobster dip.
I shot him a wry look. “Well, someone seems to be hungry.”
He pushed a second chair a little closer to me, and his thigh brushed mine as he took a seat. It was probably accidental, but I shoved him playfully. “You’re gonna make Kat talk. That's my friend who was with me. She’ll think you really are my date, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
He grabbed my hand and gently kissed it. “Just to give the two of you something to discuss,” he said. He took a bite of meatball. Then he lowered his voice. “If you must know, I scooted up close to you so that we could talk in private about why we're really here.” Before he spoke again, he looked around to see that no one was super close. “So, did you learn anything?” he asked me quietly.