Warning Signs (Alexis Parker Book 19)

by G. K. Parks

  “I don’t pay attention.”

  Before he could inquire further, Cross interrupted, “Thanks, Doc. That’s all I needed to hear.” He met my eyes. “Come along, Alex. We’re wasting daylight.”

  I hopped off the table and followed Cross out of the medical wing and to the elevator. Even though I’d seen most of the nifty toys and gadgets before, the thirty-first floor still impressed me. Instead of conference rooms and offices, like downstairs, this floor was broken into sectors, each with state-of-the-art equipment designed to process evidence, run computer analyses, provide medical care, recreate crime scenes, and conduct ballistics tests. It wasn’t the Office of International Operations or any other division of the FBI, but in some ways, it was better. I’d just have to remember not to say that to Jablonsky or Lucca.

  The elevator closed, and Cross scrutinized my reflection in the mirrored doors. “I heard Jablonsky’s set to make a full recovery.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “No need for thanks. You work for me. James Martin is my newest business partner. Providing a safe house and medical team for your friend was my pleasure.” He turned to face me. “Speaking of which, I had a meeting with James this morning. He’s set to move to a new phase in research. He hopes to have an efficient way to develop the biotextiles within the next few months. Depending on how the preliminary trials go, it looks like we might have that new line of body armor sooner rather than later.”

  “Is that why you called me?” Martin needed to stay out of my business.

  “No, but when we need volunteers to act as test dummies, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking.” I stared at my boss. As usual, I couldn’t get a read on him. “Did Martin ask you to assign me a case?”

  “No, and for the record, Cross Security operates autonomously from Martin Technologies and vice versa. We’re not crossing the streams.” Cross’s eyes twinkled. “At least not yet.”

  “Bullshit. You hired me to get to Martin. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t grant him a favor like this.”

  “True, but James didn’t ask me to assign you a case.” Cross’s gaze dropped to my throat, but I hadn’t worn the necklace Martin had given me with the GPS tracker since Cross found it and returned it to me. “Why do you think he would do that?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Cross turned back to the doors, just as they opened, and led the way to his office. “The reason you’re here is because Mr. North requested we look into his fiancée. Her name’s Eve Wyndham. She’s an event planner. High-end. We’re talking massive parties. She used to work for Elite before going freelance. She has tons of contacts and spends most of her days and nights in clubs. She caters to celebrities and powerful people. Her friends are famous. If she wants to lunch in Hawaii, she catches an early morning flight. Dinner in Paris, she hops on someone’s private jet.”

  “That’ll make surveillance difficult.”

  “You’ll have to get creative.”

  “What about Andre North? What’s his deal? Is he old? Ugly? Violent?”

  Cross gestured to the sofa, and I took a seat. He went to the locked cabinet behind his desk, opened the top drawer, removed a file, and handed it to me. “That’s our preliminary research on the couple.”

  I pulled out a photograph. The man in the photo was probably in his early forties. He wore sunglasses, which made it difficult to see most of his face, but he had a healthy tan and a toned physique. His thighs and shoulders were thick, like a body-builder. His freshly shaved head gleamed in the sunlight. His jaw had a dusting of stubble, and the woman beside him rubbed his cheek with perfectly manicured fingernails. She had movie star curls, designer sunglasses, and a see-through coverup that left little to the imagination. A large diamond stud sparkled from her belly button, and another glittery rock weighed down her left hand.

  I flipped the photo around, checking for a caption. “This is the happy couple?”

  “That’s Andre and Eve.”

  “So he’s not old or ugly.”

  “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder. But no, I don’t imagine most women would find him unappealing.”

  “Obviously. So why does he think his fiancée is stepping out on him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He must have some kind of flaw or quirk. Does he snore?” I flipped through the rest of the information in the file but found next to nothing on Andre North. Most of the details contained inside were about Eve Wyndham. “Does he have a record? History of violence? Alcohol or drug abuse? Some other kind of vice?” I looked up. “Is he faithful? A lot of people who accuse their partners of cheating are cheaters themselves. Unless he’s just a control freak. Any allegations of stalking or complaints by former lovers?”

  Cross snickered. “You’re already blaming our client for his fiancée’s bad behavior.”

  “No, I just want to get the facts straight.”

  “That is important, but you’re jumping the gun. We don’t even know if his fears can be substantiated.” Cross leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t dug too deeply yet. North asked me to investigate this matter just a few hours ago. Everything I’ve collected thus far is basic. Most of that is what he brought to us. But it’s a start. You’ll need to do a full workup on them and figure out a strategy to keep an eye on Eve.”

  The last page in the file contained a copy of the signed contract. I checked the deadline. We had a month to prove her infidelity. If she was cheating, it probably wouldn’t take a month, but if she wasn’t, that would take longer to prove. “Do you think she’s stepping out on him?” I asked.

  “That’s what I need you to find out.”

  I glanced at the contract again. No maximum had been set on billables or expenses. “Is North a regular client?”

  “No, he’s brand new. I met with him for the first time this morning.”

  “But you’re personally invested in his case, so he must be someone important.” The ring on her finger told me as much. “Let me guess. He owns a national chain of gyms or he’s a famous skier.”

  “Neither.”

  “Really?”

  “Cross Security caters to more than just the wealthy.”

  “Not often.”

  “Maybe that’s why I hired you. To protect the poor and downtrodden. But I have been known to take on my fair share of pro bono cases in the past.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Oh, so you think I’m just another money-grubbing dictator?”

  “The jury’s still out.”

  “Let me know the verdict.” Cross tapped his phone. “I have a dinner date. Justin will get you whatever information you require. Occasionally, people who travel in Eve’s circles use multiple aliases to ensure their privacy. If you have any trouble accessing her work records, extracurriculars, or details on her clients, I’ll get someone to help you with that. But I’m guessing you can handle it,” he examined my thigh, “even with your current impediment. However, if you find it to be too much legwork, let me know so I can assign someone else.”

  “I should be fine. I hope. I have done this before.” But I didn’t move to stand.

  “So what’s the problem?” Cross focused on me, but he itched to look at the time again.

  “What does any of this have to do with Victor Landau and the police investigation?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Cross was hiding something. “I thought you called me down here to discuss that.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. I met with Mr. Landau once, eight weeks ago. He showed up, took a phone call, and left five minutes later. I don’t even remember what he wanted. He said he’d call to reschedule when he had time, but he never did.” Cross stared at me. “I told Detective O’Connell the same thing. I would have offered to show him my records, but I’m sure you already gave him everything he wanted.”

  “I didn’t find anything.”

  “I know. You looked and told h
im there was nothing. It saved me and the police department a lot of time and unnecessary paperwork. It’s nice to have someone on the payroll they trust. I doubt the detective would have taken my word at face value.”

  “You understand he asked me to assist in any way possible.”

  “Have you signed a consulting contract with the PD?”

  “Not yet.”

  Cross rubbed his hands together. “I guess that means you have a choice to make. You made me strike the moonlighting clause from your contract, so you’re free to do as you please.” He stared into my eyes. “Just remember, Cross Security should be your primary focus. This case will require a lot of time. I’m not sure you can do both, and even though you are free to work for outside clients, mine take priority.”

  “Is that why you gave me Andre North’s case? Is it supposed to be a reward or punishment for speaking to O’Connell?”

  “It’s just a job, Alex.” He fought to keep his annoyance in check. “Andre North didn’t want us to set up the usual honey trap. He wants someone who can go where Eve goes. Only a woman can handle that. And the other women who work here are already busy with other assignments. You’re the next logical choice. My only choice.”

  “Sounds like Andre’s insecure. That could be why he thinks she’s stepping out on him. There might not be anything here.”

  “Or that could be the reason Eve would step out on him. Insecurity is unattractive.”

  “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But if you’re already short-staffed, a month long surveillance gig won’t help matters. Maybe you should refer Mr. North to another firm.” My boss always had an agenda. This time, I was certain he wanted to keep me away from the police investigation. I just didn’t know why.

  “Leave the scheduling and administrative work to me. It’s my company. My call.” He looked pointedly at the clock. “You should probably get to work. I told him we’d start surveillance as soon as Eve returns from the UAE on Monday. You’ll need to be well-versed on her life and routine by then.” He tapped his pen against my knee. “I suggest you put a rush on the rehabbing. You should speak to the doctors again. They can schedule your physical therapy sessions.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Cross studied me for a moment. “You’re not ready to come back, are you?”

  “It’s not like you’ve given me a choice.”

  Six

  My gaze drifted to the clock on the wall. It was late, probably on account of the nap I took in the middle of the day. But I was still tired, and performing background checks and scouring social media pages hadn’t helped. This was a waste of time.

  After turning off my computer, I took my notes and went downstairs. Bruiser was waiting in the lobby, reading a magazine.

  “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have waited.”

  “It’s fine, Ms. Parker.” He put the magazine down. “Need I remind you again that my assignment for today is to chauffeur you around?”

  “No.” I glimpsed the article he’d been reading. “Did you determine your ideal sexual position or figure out what color lipstick is perfect for spring?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I bet I would.”

  He led the way to the front door, holding it open for me to exit. “Mr. Martin called about twenty minutes ago and said he was on his way home.”

  “He could have called me.” But Martin probably knew better. “Did he ask Cross to assign me a case?”

  “Why would Martin do that?”

  “I don’t know, but the timing is awfully suspicious.”

  Bruiser handed me his cell phone. “You can read our messages, if you like.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” I waited for the car doors to unlock before I lifted the door up so I could slip inside. “I don’t need a driver anymore. The doctor said I’m fine. You can go back to guarding the boss man full-time.”

  He ran his palms along the steering wheel. “Off the record, this is more fun.”

  I chuckled. “I knew you were dying to drive this car.”

  “Boys and their toys,” Bruiser said.

  That thought made me wonder what types of activities Andre North enjoyed. His fiancée’s life was nothing but a nonstop party. From what I’d seen on social media, he attended a lot of her events. Almost all of them, but what did he do? What did he like?

  Cross made it clear. Andre wasn’t the priority. Eve was. I’d spent the last two hours checking to see if either of them had a criminal record or a history of violence. But I didn’t find anything. Despite Eve’s very active social life, I couldn’t find much about her that didn’t relate to parties and work. What did they do in private? Did they stay home and play board games and take cooking classes? Or did Andre stay home watching sports while Eve stayed out all day and night?

  I tried to schedule a meeting with Andre to discuss these things, but he wouldn’t be available until the middle of next week. When we spoke on the phone, he explained his concerns were based on Eve’s career. She was always around alcohol and celebrities. He wouldn’t blame her for cheating. She had ample opportunities, and that mix didn’t lend itself to the soundest decision making, especially given her profession. She made her money by pleasing clients, possibly in more ways than one. He just didn’t want her mistakes to bite him in the ass.

  “I’m mad about her,” he had said. “But if she decides in a few months that she’d rather hitch her wagon to some sexy celeb and be tabloid fodder, I don’t want to pay for it.”

  Apparently, they’d only been together for a year, which made the engagement seem rushed. When I asked what he did for a living, he’d told me in vague terms asset management. My checks on him didn’t turn up much of anything. He filed his taxes and kept out of trouble, but little was known about the man or even what assets he managed. He had several holdings and LLCs, so I’d have to dig deeper.

  “We’re here,” Bruiser said.

  I blinked, realizing I’d zoned out during the drive. Martin’s town car wasn’t parked at the end of the row, which meant we beat him home. That gave me a few minutes to get some work done before World War III started. Except before I even made it up the steps, my phone rang.

  “Damn, you’re popular today.” Bruiser disappeared into Martin’s second floor office to check the estate’s security logs while I checked the display and answered the call.

  “Hey, Nick,” I said.

  “You sound much friendlier now than you did earlier. Did you get lucky?”

  “I thought we agreed not to discuss our sex lives.”

  “Sorry, that’s just what happens when I spend my day elbow deep in a den of hedonism. You didn’t happen to find anything else out about Victor Landau, did you?”

  “No, but Cross wants me to stay away from it. Or maybe just you.”

  “Cross hates the cops. We all know that.” The silence dragged on before O’Connell finally said, “Landau was poisoned. ME found a puncture mark between his toes.”

  “What kind of poison?”

  “They’re still narrowing down the properties.” He read off a list of names. The only one I recognized was scopolamine.

  “How much? Are we talking a remedy to motion sickness or Devil’s Breath?”

  “Probably the latter, but the details are still being analyzed.”

  “Huh.” I thought for a moment. “As far as I know, Devil’s Breath isn’t normally injected. It’s usually used to spike someone’s drink and make them compliant and forgetful or blown into their faces, as the name would suggest.”

  “That’s what I thought. ME didn’t find any traces of it in the vic’s nasal passages, so CSU’s testing the wine glasses and the empty liquor bottles to see if that might be the source. I hate to think someone wanted to convince Landau to hand over his PIN and account numbers while someone else thought shoving a needle between his toes and killing him seemed like a much better idea.”

  “And I thought I was having a rough day. Have you identified anyone el
se who entered or left the room yet?”

  “No, the surveillance footage shows two couples arriving around four yesterday afternoon and leaving around eleven. They arrived separately and left separately, within forty-five minutes of one another, but we found six different DNA samples in the room. One of them belongs to Landau.”

  “So you have five potential suspects or possible witnesses.”

  “Yeah, two male, three female. But we only caught sight of four people entering the room. That leaves one woman unaccounted for.”

  “Could the fifth sample have come from the housekeeper who found him?”

  “I’m checking into that.”

  “How many samples did you find on Landau’s body?”

  “Four.”

  “That goes along with my maid theory. The two couples came to play.”

  “That seems obvious.”

  “Was Landau still alive when they left the room?”

  “It appears that way, but with poisons, they aren’t always fast-acting.”

  “So if the fifth wasn’t an active participant in the bedroom, she could be our killer.”

  “Or the maid. Unfortunately, we’re not sure how or when the lone individual entered or left the room. Like I said, two couples. That’s four people. Not five.”

  “Wow, you’re a detective and good at math. Wonders never cease.”

  “You’re just jealous,” O’Connell teased.

  “Did you get any hits on the DNA samples?”

  “Not yet. It’s too early for that. Forensics has only finished the preliminary analysis. That’s how I determined the boy, girl designation. But the reason I called is because you know Cross. You know how he operates and what goes on in his office.”

  “I don’t know anything about Landau. I’d tell you if I did.” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “I’d go out on a limb and say Landau must have been worth something. After all, he paid for that hotel room, and those suites aren’t cheap. Plus, Cross doesn’t typically entertain clients that won’t add to his prestige or bottom line.”