by G. K. Parks
Just like Eve, I went to the head of the line. The doorman spent a little too much time analyzing the parts of me he could see from beneath my unzipped jacket. “Are you on the list?”
“I’m not sure. Eve told me to meet her inside.” I paused. “Eve Wyndham.”
He scanned the clipboard. “All right, go on in.”
That was easy enough. I flipped my hair back and walked in, doing my best imitation of a runway model.
Unlike Spark, Olympus felt more like your typical club. The music played so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. The dance floor was packed with people grinding against one another. The bar had standing room only, and the line was already three people deep. Locating Eve would be harder than finding a needle in a haystack. Forget sticking a tracker on her car. Tomorrow, I’d stick a tracker on her.
Working methodically, I made my way to the nearest corner and walked the grid. It took me almost an hour to find Eve. She and three other women, two of which I recognized from pilates class, were standing around a high-top table just to the side of the dance floor.
Eve picked up a martini glass that appeared blue due to the glowstick garnish and toasted the others. I tried to move closer, but unless I was standing right next to her, I wouldn’t be able to hear anything. Instead, I made my way to the railing, found an empty spot beside a couple who looked more like they were mating than dancing, and waited to see what would happen.
Over the course of the next two hours, several men came to the table with drinks or asked the women to dance. Eve and her friends accepted the drinks and the offers, but the four of them remained in a group. She never broke away from her friends. Their dance partners would eventually grow tired or thirsty and disappear.
When the women were finished dancing, they found another table and clustered around it. Two of them went to the bar to get more drinks. When they returned, Eve took a sip and excused herself. It was the first time she’d gone anywhere alone, so I followed.
She got in line for the bathroom and pulled out her phone. Even though it was risky, I stepped into line behind her. Leaning against the wall, I tried to stretch out my leg muscles, which had begun to ache from standing in one place for so long. Eve didn’t notice me, and I cautioned getting closer, hoping to read her texts over her shoulder.
From what I could tell, she had sent instructions to her assistants regarding changes to tomorrow’s schedule and plans to get everything ready for Colton’s party. Did this woman do anything besides work? She was out with friends. Shouldn’t she have been concentrating on that?
I tried to recall Eve’s original plans for tonight, but I didn’t remember seeing this in her planner. The line moved forward, placing Eve at the front. She tucked her phone into her pocket, but a second later, it buzzed. She’d just finished responding when a woman exited the bathroom. Eve entered, and I waited for her to go into one of the stalls before I walked in and went to the sink.
For the first time in two hours, the music quieted. I washed my hands and thoroughly examined my lip gloss container while I waited for Eve. The toilet flushed, and I leaned closer to the mirror, slowly circling the applicator brush over my lips. She came out of the bathroom and went to the sink beside mine. She washed her hands and examined her face in the mirror.
Her phone buzzed again, and she looked at it before putting it down on the counter. She had just blotted her face with an oil remover sheet and was now reapplying her makeup when her phone went off again. In her haste, she knocked it off the counter.
“I got it.” I knelt down to pick it up for her, hoping to see who was texting. But it was a chain message that didn’t identify the other party by name or number.
“Thanks.” She smiled at me. “Hey, don’t I know you?”
Shit. “Um…,” I bit my lip and took a page out of Cross’s playbook, “do you go to the gym on Holbrook?”
She pointed a finger at me, and I realized she was inebriated. “You’re in my pilates class,” she said excitedly.
“Yeah, I think so.” I turned back to the sink to wash my hands again.
“When’s the big day?”
At first, I ignored her, thinking she was talking on the phone, but her gaze bore into the back of my neck. I turned, feeling the engagement ring bump against my bare chest. I’d put it on when I went to speak to Samantha and had forgotten to take it off when I stripped out of my top. Normally, I kept it concealed beneath my shirt, but Cross’s outfit didn’t leave me with enough shirt to conceal much of anything. “We haven’t set a date yet.” Had she seen me on surveillance footage from Elegant Events? Did the event planner have security cameras set up in the office that she watched when she wasn’t at work?
I turned and looked down at her ring. “That’s gorgeous. What is that? Three carats?”
She blushed but held out her hand for me to examine her ring more thoroughly. “We’re getting married next month.”
“Congratulations.”
She let out a contented sigh, a sound one was only capable of making after too much alcohol or really good sex. And since she hadn’t been in the bathroom stall that long, it had to be the first one. “Hey, do you want to come hang out with me and my friends? We’re all getting married.”
“Is this your bachelorette party?”
She made a face. “I hate bachelorette parties. This is more of a girls’ night out thing. Y’know, our last chance to have fun without feeling guilty.”
That caught my attention. “Oh really?”
“We get to be bad.” She laughed. “Okay, not really bad, but like let guys buy us drinks and have fun dancing with other men bad.”
“That’s not that bad.”
“I know,” she shrugged, “but it’s still bad.”
“What if one of the guys gets the wrong idea?”
She hooked her hand around my arm and laughed. “You’re so bad.” I wondered if she and her friends had made a drinking game out of using the word bad, but I refrained from asking. “Come on, join us. Unless your guy’s here.” She had no intention of taking no for an answer.
“No, I came with some girlfriends, but they ditched me.”
“Then you have to hang out with us.” She teetered on her heels, using my arm to steady herself.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Eve.”
“Alex,” I said, wondering if I should have used an alias instead.
“Nice to meet you. Now come on.” She practically dragged me out of the bathroom and back to the table. Once there, she made the introductions. Her phone buzzed again, and she reached for it.
“Who’s blowing up your phone?” Steff asked.
“Work. I got roped into doing a major event this weekend. We’ll barely have enough time to prep. Luckily, I have a DJ on standby. The club has the tables and linens, so that’s not a problem. But getting good media coverage might be hard. I’m trying to get the word out on social media and start some buzz.” Eve put her phone on the table face up and reached for her martini glass. On the screen was an icon I’d only seen once before. Priapus.
Thirty
“Have you made any progress on your case, Detective?”
“We’re still working on it. Why?” O’Connell knew I called for a reason.
“What about the Priapus app? Did you get a chance to examine it?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“We’ve spoken to the developer, but it isn’t available on any of the app stores. It’s sent from person to person. It doesn’t have any tracking features or geolocators, so we have no way of knowing who has it and who doesn’t. We downloaded a copy. Techs are going through the profiles now, but without photos, real names, or any other identifying features, we have no way of knowing who the club members are.”
“What about hooking up with them in real life?”
“There are over three hundred app users. They don’t even differentiate gender on the profiles. It’s like Summers told us. It’s bas
ically a want ad that uses the honor system. You tell me what you want, and if I fit the bill, I respond.”
“Have you tried asking for a woman with knowledge of poisons who’s looking to party?”
“No, but I’ll run that by Moretti,” O’Connell said.
“What about the lawyer’s files?”
“The judge won’t allow us access. Without definitive proof a member of Priapus is responsible for the murders, the judge won’t let us snoop through his records. He said that would be a violation of the very foundation of our legal system.” O’Connell sounded disgusted.
“What about Martin’s friend? She said she dealt with Summers.”
“It’s not enough. Summers claims this is privileged and asking someone to point out her attorney is in direct violation of said privilege and could violate any NDA, should one exist.”
“That sounds like bullshit.” I rocked back in my chair.
“You can say that again.”
“I thought you had this handled.”
O’Connell grunted. “Do you kick puppies too?”
“Sorry, I just thought you’d have made an arrest by now.”
“Are those steel-toed boots you’re wearing?”
“Nick,” I glanced at the door, making sure Cross wasn’t going to sneak up on me or barge into my office, “Eve Wyndham has the Priapus app on her phone.”
“Who?”
I told him about my case. “Her fiancé fears she might be cheating, and given what we know about Priapus, I might agree.”
“Where are you now?”
“At Cross Security. Eve’s in party planner mode. I don’t think she slept. I know I haven’t. She partied until three a.m., went back to her apartment, worked on the computer until dawn, and went back to Elegant Events at 6:30. Kellan’s keeping an eye on her while I update Cross, but I wanted to speak to you first.”
“Do you think she’s the killer?”
“She can’t be. She was out of the country when Victor Landau was murdered. When I spoke to her at Olympus last night, she and her friends went on and on about having fun and doing all the things they wanted to before getting married. They never mentioned having flings or sowing their wild oats or whatever, but–”
“You think she’ll attend a sex party or two before committing herself to one man for the rest of her life.”
“Maybe. Obviously, she must be into the lifestyle if she’s a member.” I thought about the items I’d found in her bedroom.
“What about her fiancé? Is he involved with Priapus?”
“That’s a good question.” I finished looking up the details on Spark and the social media buzz surrounding Colton Raine’s party and pending announcement and press luncheon. Eve was good. All the cogs were lining up just the way she wanted. Whatever Colton was announcing must be huge. “Andre never let on either way.”
“See what you can find out. The more we know about the sex club, the closer I’ll get to that court order.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Where’d you say she works?”
“Elegant Events. She owns it and runs it.” We disconnected, and I went upstairs to speak to Cross.
Like most other early mornings, my boss was already in his office. He didn’t appear surprised to see me this early, just a little shocked I was still in the clothes from yesterday.
“Don’t start. I haven’t had time to change. I’ve been with Eve all night.”
“Did Colton make a move?” Cross asked.
“No, I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing. She left Spark a few minutes after you did. I tailed her back to the office then to a club. She partied with some girlfriends until three a.m. and then went back to work.”
“Admirable.”
“She’s a real go-getter.” I sunk onto the couch. “We have a problem. Two, actually. First, Eve made me, but unlike you, I didn’t introduce myself and hand her a business card. She recognized me from her pilates class. She thinks I’m just another bride-to-be.”
“That’s close enough to the truth, isn’t it?” Cross glanced down at my necklace.
I ignored the question, deciding it was rhetorical. “Second, while I was hanging out with her and her friends, I noticed something suspicious on her phone.”
“You really love dragging out the suspense. What did you find?”
“The Priapus app.”
“That’s a problem.”
“How do we find out if she’s an active participant? Is there any way to determine if she uses the app or how often?”
Cross went behind his desk and took a seat. “I’ll look into it, but I don’t expect to find anything useful for our purposes or the police department’s.” He entered commands into his computer. “I assume you already shared this tidbit with Detective O’Connell.”
I didn’t answer.
“All right. Resume surveillance. If Eve is an active member of the sex club, she’ll lead you to a sex party at some point, but don’t discount other possibilities either. Eve knows a lot of people who have too much power, money, and free time. Any one of her clients could have invited her to join Priapus. For all we know, Colton could have sent her a copy of the app yesterday.”
“Is he a member?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but the man has a reputation. I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“This would be easier if you told me how you know so much about the sex club.”
“I’ve explained all of this to you before, but obviously, you weren’t listening.” Cross didn’t look up from the screen. “It’s simple. I run a security company which specializes in investigations and private policing. I’ve been doing this for years. I’ve dealt with everything from blackmailers to opposition research on politicians. Priapus is a skeleton in a lot of closets. Despite the level of secrecy and protections established to protect the club and its members, I’ve evaluated it on numerous occasions to make sure questionably moral activity remains hidden away from the public eye.”
“What about Ritch Summers? Is he in charge?”
“I don’t believe Priapus is run by a governing body, but if it is, Ritch would know who’s pulling the strings.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said.” Cross glanced at me. “I don’t believe a hierarchy runs the club, but I have no way of knowing anything for certain. All I can tell you is what I’ve surmised, but it’s just a guess.”
“How did you stumble upon Ritch?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t.”
Cross glared at me. He wouldn’t talk, and I had no way of convincing him otherwise.
“What happens to someone who doesn’t follow the rules or violates the NDA? Considering what I know about Priapus, suing for breach would draw too much unwanted attention to the club and its members, so I don’t see that happening.”
“It wouldn’t. No one’s going to get sued, but the threat’s enough.” Cross stopped typing to search his desk drawer for something. “I believe what keeps everyone in line and following the rules is fear of the truth coming to light. It’s about self-destruction, plain and simple. No one wants to get caught, so no one will do anything to risk it.”
“So each person governs himself? That sounds like anarchy waiting to happen or a reason why someone would want to kill the other members of the underground sex club.”
“That’s why membership is anonymous. No one is supposed to know anyone else, at least not their real names.”
“But Ritch Summers knew Victor Landau. He invited him to join Priapus. And if what you say is true about politicians and celebrities being a part of this, wouldn’t they be recognizable?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps they wear disguises.”
“Like a motorcycle helmet and cowboy hat? That won’t conceal their identities for long.”
“A mask or body paint would.”
“Summers didn’t mention anything about that.” But he’d failed to gi
ve us accurate descriptions of the people in attendance at Landau’s party. That might have been why.
“Focus on Eve’s involvement, and let the police worry about the rest. It’s 7:30 in the morning. You should get changed and resume surveillance. Leave the top with someone at reception.” He glanced up at me. “Alex, be careful. These are powerful people who won’t take kindly to investigators sniffing around their secret club.”
* * *
“What are you doing here?” I asked, getting into O’Connell’s car.
“I thought I’d return the favor.” He pointed to the drink carrier nestled in the center console. “Cappuccino and a chocolate crème donut.”
“This is why you’re my favorite detective.”
He handed me a napkin off the dashboard. “You say that to all of us.”
“But when I say it to you, I mean it.”
We watched as Eve paced inside the shop. Samantha manned the computer, turning to look back at her boss every few seconds. We couldn’t hear what was going on inside, but from what we could see, Eve was relaying details to her assistants while they made additional arrangements for Colton’s party. Every few minutes, Eve would push one of them aside to handle it herself.
“Damn, she’s bossy,” O’Connell mused. “Her fiancé might be better off without her.”
“I don’t think Andre would see it that way.” I finished the donut, licked the powdered sugar off my fingers, and wiped my hands on the napkin. “What are you really doing here, Nick?”
“Moretti said we need you back.”
“Moretti said?” I didn’t believe that for a second.
“Yeah, he likes you, remember?”
“It didn’t feel like that a week and a half ago when he fired me. What do you think? I don’t want to step on your toes.”
“No, you just want to fish for compliments,” O’Connell teased. “It’s my investigation, and it’s getting colder by the second. It’s not my fault you keep stumbling into the middle of it with warm leads. Frankly, I’m fine without you, but since you want to help, I figure it’s best to let you. This is why I asked you to consult in the first place. I knew it’d be right up your alley.”