by G. K. Parks
“What are you thinking?”
“Andre’s hopelessly in love with her, and she doesn’t even know how many people are in the wedding party. She hasn’t picked out her flowers or colors or anything. She has a dress and Andre has a suit. Though, come to think of it, I don’t remember running across a wedding dress anywhere in her apartment.”
“When were you in her apartment?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“Her dress could be getting altered or at his place.”
“I don’t think she has any desire to marry him. She’s careful though. She doesn’t flirt or fool around, not really. She and Colton got a little friendly in her apartment, but she put an end to it quickly.”
“Are we still talking about the murders, or have you switched topics?” O’Connell asked.
“I’m talking about how the perfect couple is far from perfect. Sadly, I don’t think Andre has any idea.”
“He must if he hired Cross Security to tail his bride.”
“Good point.” I reached for the door handle, but everything about the situation bothered me. “I better get back to keeping watch. It’s Thursday. Eve rescheduled her entire day in order to get everything ready for Colton’s party, but I’m guessing she’ll still make a grocery store run for last minute items and to pick up snacks for movie night with Andre.”
“Since she’s so slammed, isn’t movie night canceled?”
“I’ll find out.”
O’Connell gave me a strange look. “While you do that, I’ll see if I can run down any more coincidences and catch a killer. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather join me? Killers usually take priority over movie nights and cheating partners.”
“You know what you’re doing. You don’t need me getting in the way.”
He didn’t buy it. “What are you planning on doing?”
“Nothing. I’m going to stick around here. If you need something, you know where I’ll be.” I stepped out of the car and closed the door.
I’d taken two steps away from the car when O’Connell rolled down the window. “Hey, Parker, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” His brow furrowed and his mouth quirked to the side. “You’re on to something.”
“I hope not.”
“Don’t do anything reckless. If you need backup, you better let me know before it’s too late.”
“Yep.”
“All right.” O’Connell didn’t look convinced. “If I don’t hear from you tonight, I expect to see you at the precinct by eight p.m. tomorrow. Make sure you’re dressed and ready to party.”
“If you make me dance, I’ll shoot you.”
O’Connell laughed. “Martin would make you dance.”
“You’re not Martin.”
“I thought I did a decent job.”
“Go away.” I stepped onto the sidewalk and headed for my parked car.
Our trip inside Elegant Events brought a lot of thoughts to mind. O’Connell had asked plenty of questions which resulted in my psyche drawing even more things into question. Could the killer have attended Eve’s events? The guest list would be radically different for each one, which meant someone Eve worked with or one of the companies or vendors she usually hired could be responsible for Landau’s murder. For all I knew, I’d already met the serial killer face to face and hadn’t realized it.
I sucked in a breath, fighting off the anxiety. I didn’t know enough to jump to conclusions, but I couldn’t ignore the connection. Then again, it could be a coincidence. Like I’d told O’Connell, the city had a limited number of upscale hotels, and the more upscale, the greater the privacy. It was a coincidence, plain and simple, except Jablonsky had hammered that notion out of me years ago.
Focus on the facts. What did I know? Not much. What didn’t I know? Plenty.
Digging through my bag, I found a notepad and pen. What were the commonalities in the victims’ profiles? Aside from being male, the victims didn’t share any obvious physical attributes. We didn’t even have proof all four were members of Priapus. Did we jump the gun with that assumption? They had different careers, but they all had money. Only one was an addict, the rest were otherwise upstanding citizens. They were all single, but that’s all I could come up with.
Single. I took out my phone and searched dating sites. If they made the screen any tinier, I’d probably go blind. I needed a computer. That would make this easier. Since I wasn’t in a position to do the research myself, I requested complete workups on the killer’s other three victims. I also asked if we had any definitive proof they were also members of Priapus, but again, Cross stonewalled me.
“I don’t know, Alex. I have no way of knowing that. None of us do. Shouldn’t the police have figured a way around this by now?” he asked.
“How?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who praises their mediocre investigative tactics.”
“Just find out if any of the other vics were on dating sites and let me know.”
“Again, shouldn’t the police have done this?”
“I’m sure they did.”
“Well, why don’t you call them?”
“I’m calling you. You said I could use office resources for my side cases.”
“Not this one.”
“Lucien, please. I’m not asking for our records.” I already checked, and we didn’t have any on the other victims. “I’m asking for the usual profiles. The research department could put this together in their sleep.”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“Whatever,” I said, more annoyed than worried. “I also need additional details on Eve Wyndham’s recent trip out of the country, profiles on her usual suppliers, the vendors, her contacts at the hotels and other venues she frequently uses, a list of her clients for the last eight months, and any friends or relatives you can locate.”
“Shouldn’t you have put that together already?”
“When did you expect me to have time? She came back early, remember?” I sighed. “I also need financials on her personal accounts and business accounts and on her employees too.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Eve doesn’t seem particularly gung-ho about her upcoming nuptials. I just want to make sure it’s nothing more than cold feet.”
“All right, I’ll put Justin on that since it is a priority, unlike your other request.”
I didn’t bother to mention the two were probably connected. Cross wouldn’t like that. “While he’s at it, can I get the same workup on Andre North?”
“Why? He’s our client.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to be thorough, and since Eve has the Priapus app on her phone, we should probably try to figure out where it came from. I assume a lover or potential lover invited her into the secret sex club. For all we know, it might have been Andre. If not, it might give me some idea of how to prove her infidelity.”
“The only way to find out if Andre is part of Priapus is by examining his phone. We’ve already been over this more times than I care to count,” Cross said.
“Fine, but if he’s buying her expensive lingerie or sexual paraphernalia, it might give me an idea of what her kinks are. Again, making it easier to determine if she’s cheating and with whom.”
“I’ll have Justin look into it in conjunction with the info you’ve requested on Eve and her associates.”
“Thanks.” I stifled an unexpected yawn. “Is the GPS tracker I stuck beneath Eve’s rear bumper transmitting?”
“Yes. Why?”
“In case I have to follow up, I don’t want to lose track of the mark.”
Cross wasn’t thrilled by the idea that I wanted to use technology to keep an eye on Eve, but there was only one of me, and Kellan and the rest of Cross’s investigators had other things to do today besides taking over my assignment. “Let me know what you find.”
“Will do.”
Thirty-three
I remained outside Elegant Events f
or an hour and a half, watching and waiting. Aside from Samantha making a coffee run, no one entered or left. They were too busy. Eve would work until at least their normal closing time before calling it quits, and I had my doubts she’d throw in the towel at five. She had a lot to accomplish and not much time to get it done. Everything had to be prepped and ready for Colton’s launch party tomorrow.
Once Justin sent me a list of Eve’s recent clients and events, I decided it was time to do some recon. With any luck, Eve would remain at work. She should be too focused on Colton’s event to run off to have a quickie with someone, but just in case, I set my phone to alert me if the GPS tracker moved. I just hoped if Eve left, it’d be in her own car and not some chauffeured thing or Colton’s Lotus. Then I drove to her apartment.
Again, I faced the issue of getting inside. After careful consideration, I stopped by the nearest Chinese restaurant for takeout and approached the building. When asked, I told the doorman I was delivering food to TJ in apartment 14J. The doorman didn’t seem surprised by this. Instead, he called up to the apartment.
When the elevator opened, I smiled at TJ. “Hey, stranger. I thought I’d bring you lunch.”
“What happened to you?” He put his hand against the elevator door. “Didn’t we have plans?”
“I’m sorry. I came down with a terrible cold later that night. How are you? Any sniffles?”
“I feel fine.”
“Good.” I faked a cough. “The morning after we met, I woke up feeling absolutely awful. I didn’t want to stop by again and make you sick, especially if I was already to blame, and I didn’t want to leave a note on your door because I thought you might think that was a line.”
The doorman watched our exchange, but TJ took the takeout from my hands and looked inside the bag. “I see you’re still over-ordering.”
“I’ll never learn. Do you forgive me? I have egg rolls.”
He laughed. “Only because I’m starving. I was in the middle of something. Do you mind coming back to my place?”
“That sounds great.”
That satisfied the curious doorman, and I stepped into the elevator beside TJ.
“How’d you know I’d be home?” he asked.
“I didn’t. I just hoped. I was in desperate need of soup, so either way, I’d win.”
“Are you still sick?”
“I don’t think I’m contagious anymore, but I’m not a hundred percent. It’s lingering.” I faked another cough and rubbed my chest. “The cough mostly.” That should be enough to give me an opening to escape.
“That sounds bad.” He studied my face. “You still look a little under the weather.” He held up the bag. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to, unless you don’t want to be around Typhoid Mary. In which case, at least take some of the containers for yourself. As you can see, I have way too much.”
“I’m not worried.” The doors opened, and TJ waited for me to exit. “How’d you know I had a hankering for Chinese?”
“Just a guess. I’ve been craving egg drop soup for the last few days. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything.” I laughed. “Actually, I always get a little of everything.”
He unlocked the door, and Daisy ran in a circle, excited to see us. He put the bag on his kitchen table. “Just give me a second.” He went to his computer, saved whatever he had been working on, and closed the program. He returned to the table and watched as I removed the containers from the bag. “I’ll get plates.”
“I don’t need one. I’m sticking with soup and maybe a spring roll. I’m still not feeling that great.” I picked up the pint-sized container of egg drop soup and the disposable utensils.
He took a plate from the cupboard and piled it high with rice, beef, chicken, and veggies, pulled out the chair, and sat down. “Y’know,” he said around a mouthful, “I have a pizza coming in a few minutes if you want some of that.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry. I should have asked. This was rude of me.”
He waved the chopsticks at me. “No, it wasn’t. It was sweet. You’re sweet. Don’t worry about the pizza. I can always reheat it in the oven for dinner or eat it cold for breakfast. Daisy doesn’t mind either way, just as long as she gets some scraps.”
I looked around the apartment, which was laid out in an almost identical manner to Eve’s. Notebooks and an electronic drawing pad were piled on the desk beside the computer. “What do you do for a living?”
He scratched at a spot behind his ear, ducking his head down as if embarrassed. “Freelance graphic design.”
“That’s cool.” I jerked my chin toward the computer. “What kind of stuff do you design?”
“Commercial art. Labels, logos, advertisements. I did a billboard once.” He shrugged. “I get to make my own hours and get some use out of my art school training. It even pays the bills, much to my parents’ astonishment.”
“That’s always a plus.”
“What do you do, Allison?”
That’s why I hadn’t asked that question before. “Lunch delivery.”
He laughed. “What do you do, really?”
“I’m a paralegal.” I had no idea where that came from.
“Huh.” He nodded a few times, finding the thought boring, which had been my intention. “Is that where you picked up the habit of over-ordering? Do you have to order lunch for the entire office?”
“No, they took that duty away from me, but when I’m really lucky, I get sent to pick it up or pass it out. Like I said, I do lunch delivery.” I finished my soup, rested my head on top of my arm, and closed my eyes. Despite the fact that I hadn’t slept, this was an act. With any luck, TJ would suggest I go home and get some rest.
He skewered a slice of beef and a piece of broccoli with the end of his chopstick and popped it into his mouth. The silence felt awkward. In the light of day, I wasn’t nearly as appealing as I had been in the pharmacy. TJ cleaned his plate and put it in the dishwasher.
“You look tired.”
“I am.” I lifted my head off the table. “I’m not very good company today, and I interrupted your work. I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Don’t apologize. I wondered what happened to you. Plus, I needed a break and a lovely lunch companion who doesn’t drool.” He closed the containers and put them back in the bag. “Here, take these with you.”
“No, keep them. I don’t have much of an appetite. They’ll just go to waste, and I hate wasting food.”
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “How about I walk you home?”
Before I had to come up with an excuse why this wouldn’t work, the intercom alerted TJ that his pizza had arrived. “Go take care of that. I’ll survive the trek upstairs,” I said.
“All right, but I better not hear rumors about a woman sleeping in the hallway.”
We parted ways at the elevator. TJ got into the one going down, and I got into the one going up.
Inside, I put my jacket back on, tied my hair up, and slipped on my sunglasses. When I stepped foot on the seventeenth floor, I hoped security wasn’t paying too much attention since I wasn’t nearly as prepared today as I had been last time. I didn’t know why I wanted to revisit Eve’s apartment, but something told me I should.
Thirty-four
The dead flower arrangement had been thrown out, replaced with a smaller assortment of African violets. This time, I didn’t find a card, but I assumed they had come from Andre. I’d know for sure once I got a look at his financials.
The photos from last time remained where they’d been. Everything looked about the same. Eve hadn’t gone shopping yet, but she spent every night at Andre’s, with the exception of last night. I closed the fridge, gave the living room a cursory glance, and picked up one of Eve’s many calendars.
She had girls’ night out penned in pink ink with a circle around it. So that had already been on the books. No wonder she didn’t reschedule.
I wondered if she regretted it now that she’d been up for a day and a half. I know I did.
I couldn’t find her day planner. She probably took that with her since she had to reschedule her meetings. I’d photographed the original pages, but I wanted to see what changes she’d made.
When I didn’t find anything else of interest, I went into her bedroom with fresh eyes. She’d changed her sheets to a white set with black trim. For someone so feminine, it struck me as odd that those were her sheets, but they coordinated well with the room and didn’t trigger any hallucinations or panic attacks, so I couldn’t complain.
Opening her closet, I checked every inch, but I didn’t find a wedding dress, veil, or any obvious wedding accessories. I went through her dresser. Again, no indication this woman had plans to get married. She didn’t even have one of those tops with “Bride” written in a fancy script.
I stopped at her lingerie drawer. Again, that icky feeling took hold, but I pushed it aside, removed my phone, snapped a shot so I’d get everything back into the drawer in the same order, and took everything out and laid it out on the bed. She had several masquerade masks that tied behind her head. The largest ran down both sides of her face, leaving only her mouth, chin, and eyes exposed. With that on, no one would recognize her.
After taking several shots of it and the other three masks, I carefully replaced everything in the drawer and searched the rest of her dresser. Moving on, I checked beneath the bed but found nothing. I went through her bedside table again. From what I could tell, the contents hadn’t changed.
Returning to the closet, I did another pass, but aside from the one leather outfit and accessories, I didn’t spot anything else. I took several more photographs. Eve had a series of bins in her closet. Aside from a quick glance, I hadn’t wasted my time with these before, but today was different.
I laid out her scarves, photographing each of them. Near the bottom of the pile of Hermès, I stopped. The design had been one of the most popular, but I’d seen it before. I took a few more photos and carefully examined it for signs of damage. The delicate material appeared pristine. It’s a coincidence, I repeated, fighting the urge to pocket it. I had to know for certain, but tampering with potential evidence wouldn’t help matters.