Indigo Rain

by Elise Noble

  “If she did, then where is it?”

  “That’s the fifty-thousand-dollar question.”

  “Did you say you found something else too?”

  “Verity Arnold’s former best friend in high school died under mysterious circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?”

  “The janitor found her at the bottom of the stairs in the science block with a broken neck. According to witnesses, she and Verity had a falling-out the week before over a guy.”

  “Fuck.” Verity rose up the suspect list again. “A practice run for Reagan?”

  Vance’s side-to-side nod said “possibly.” “How about you? Did you find anything?”

  “I’m not sure. Courtney Timmons is an odd girl. Twenty-five years old, she graduated summa cum laude from Caltech, and last year, she quit her research position at a pharmaceutical giant to take a minimum-wage job as assistant to the assistant of Indigo Rain. Her former supervisor describes her as brilliant but scatterbrained.”

  Vance looked as confused as Zander felt. “Scatterbrained? So why the hell did she take a role where her entire job is to organise things?”

  “That’s the question I’ve been asking myself.”

  “And do you have an answer?”

  “Not yet.”

  “An unhealthy interest in Travis Thorne?”

  Zander shrugged. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “Right now? I have no idea. But I need to get some sleep or I won’t be able to function tomorrow.”

  “Have you filled in a request form for a deep background check?”

  “It’s in the queue.”

  “Maybe Emmy could get it bumped up. Where is our esteemed leader, anyway?”

  “Her husband’s in town. I don’t know where they’ve gone, but she sent a car for me and said she wouldn’t be back until morning.”

  “I noticed he accessed the tapes of her and Thorne. Bet he enjoyed those. He’s probably taken her to a hotel somewhere to show her who’s in charge.”

  Everyone knew Black was the jealous type, but which of the golden couple was in charge was debatable. Vance’s guess about the hotel room was a good one, though.

  At least they’d have peace at Skywater House tonight.

  CHAPTER 37 - ZANDER

  ZANDER LEFT LANIE and Travis in the lounge and pulled the door to the hallway closed to give them some space. Goodbyes were never easy, even if Travis was only going to Vegas for a few days.

  Meanwhile, Emmy bumped a second suitcase down the stairs and lined it up next to the first beside the front door.

  “Do you have everything?” Bradley asked.

  “Yes.”

  “The purple shoes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your eyelash curlers?”

  “Yes.”

  “That new burgundy lipstick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your suppressor? Remember when you forgot it last year and I had to fly with it to Minnesota?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Are you sure? Because Minnesota was freezing, and the air made my skin go all dry.”

  “Bradley, I’ve got the fucking suppressor.”

  Zander didn’t want to ask the inevitable question, but he couldn’t help himself. “Who are you planning to shoot?”

  “Don’t worry; it’s just a precaution. Didn’t you ever have a security blanket as a kid?”

  “It’s difficult to kill someone with a security blanket.”

  “Difficult, but not impossible.” Emmy patted Zander on the cheek. “Relax. This is going exactly as I hoped.”

  Relax? How could he possibly relax? They still had three viable suspects, and now they were all flying to another state.

  “So what should I do? Just hang around at Blackwood, watching more video?”

  “The video feed for this trip won’t be going to Blackwood. It’s coming here instead.”

  “Here?”

  “Black’s gonna be staying for a while, and when he’s busy, the control room in Richmond will monitor me.”

  Emmy’s husband? Great. Sharing a house with him would be like tiptoeing around one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

  But weirdly, Lanie liked him. Half an hour after Travis and Emmy departed, the front door opened and closed with a quiet click. Zander didn’t hear any footsteps, but Black appeared in the kitchen moments later and nodded in his direction.

  “Graves.”

  Zander resisted the urge to back away. “Morning. Have you met Alana?”

  Black’s cold expression didn’t change, but Lanie still giggled. “Hi, Mr. Black.”

  “It’s just Black.”

  “Okay, Black. Can I get you a coffee?”

  “Thanks. Double espresso, no sugar.” His mouth softened just a touch. “You’re smiling, but you’re worried.”

  Lanie’s fragile mask cracked. “How can I not be?”

  “I realise a stranger telling you everything will be fine won’t allay those fears, but know that we’re doing everything we can to fix this for you. We’ve dangled a lure for the person causing problems around Travis, and now it’s just a case of waiting for the fish to bite.”

  “What about the band’s contract? Did Emmy tell you about that?”

  “Emmy’s forwarded the research done so far. We can’t solve that one overnight, but we’re looking into it. In the meantime, you’re safe here.” Black handed Lanie a handkerchief for her tears, and Zander had a feeling he carried it for that exact purpose. The man was always prepared for anything. “Just sit tight for a few days.”

  Lanie wiped her eyes and gave a quiet sniffle. “I’ll try.”

  Black was a paradox of a man. He rarely showed emotion, hummed with pent-up energy, and could intimidate a man with a single glance. But he was kind when the situation called for it. He also had a reputation as a workaholic, but at eleven thirty in the morning, he sauntered down to the beach in board shorts and went for a swim. It didn’t escape Zander’s notice that both Dove’s and Lanie’s gazes followed him all the way to the water’s edge.

  Enough! Concentrate on the task at hand.

  Black wasn’t a threat. Not to Zander, at least.

  “Say hi to Zander,” Lanie said, walking in with her phone held out in front of her.

  When she handed the phone over, Zander saw Travis sitting on a roof terrace with the lights of Las Vegas twinkling in the distance.

  Travis raised a hand. “Hi.”

  “You got there okay?”

  “Yeah. Emmy reserved the last suite, and Gary got put in a standard room.” Travis couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “He’s pissed, but they said they were fully booked.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Black Diamond.”

  Figured.

  “Emmy owns the hotel. That’s why Gary got bumped down to a standard room.”

  And also why Zander and Dove had got a corporate discount and a free upgrade when they stayed there for their wedding. And free champagne, free spa treatments, complimentary fruit, chocolates, a limo service… The list went on. Emmy may have been a bitch, but she was a nice bitch.

  Travis’s eyes widened as he looked around the terrace. “You’re serious? She owns this whole place?”

  “The entire chain.”

  “Fuck.”

  “So drink the contents of the minibar by all means, but don’t smash up the room or we’ll be in trouble with the boss.”

  “Hey, I’m gonna fold the fuckin’ toilet paper back into a point when I’m done with it.”

  “No need to go that far. Where’s Emmy now?”

  “On a conference call. I said I’d keep out of her way for an hour, then we’ve gotta go to this club.”

  “Good luck. Just do what she tells you.”

  “Is there anything new on the case?”

  “Sorry. Emmy’s still our best shot at solving this.”

  Zander passed the phone back to Lanie and settled back in the chair with his
laptop as his sister headed upstairs to get some privacy. The police hadn’t made any progress and neither had Blackwood, but at least Caitlin’s condition was improving. She’d started walking with a crutch, and the doctors were hopeful she’d be home within a week.

  An email pinged into Zander’s inbox. He’d worked to keep his London cases under control, ticking along, and Nye and Dev were helping out when he needed boots on the ground. But this message related to Courtney, a short and sweet update from Blackwood’s research group.

  Subject: Courtney Timmons

  Detail: Background check in progress. No birth record found in CONUS for this individual.

  No birth certificate in the continental United States? Hmm. Were they looking in the wrong place? Lanie said Courtney came from California, and her accent was definitely American. Was there a problem with Blackwood’s search program? Unlikely. Was she born elsewhere? Or…or could Courtney be using a false name?

  All Zander could do was request that they keep digging and make a note to discuss this new puzzle piece with Black the next day.

  CHAPTER 38 - ZANDER

  THE NEXT MORNING, Zander considered going for a run on the beach, but when Black jogged out the door ahead of him, he decided not to get into a race he’d undoubtedly lose and used the gym instead. Between that and breakfast with Dove and Lanie, it was ten o’clock before he walked into the study to tell Black about Courtney’s sketchy history. The big man was already watching Emmy on-screen, his hair still damp from the shower.

  “They’re up early today?” Zander asked.

  Black popped a carrot stick into his mouth. “Gary lined up a last-minute appearance for the band. Easy money. Guess he needed to buy a new watch or something.”

  “That guy’s a slug.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see how much of a backbone he has. Do you need me? Or are you just here to watch the show?”

  “The research team found an anomaly in Courtney’s background check.”

  A knock at the door of Emmy’s hotel room caught their attention. Something or nothing? Black’s face remained impassive as he clicked through the camera feeds to the one from the hallway outside where a black-clad figure stood waiting. Female. Dark hair tied back in a scruffy ponytail and a bag slung over her shoulder. Zander leaned forward to take a closer look.

  “Game on, Diamond,” Black said.

  Game on? Every muscle in Zander’s body tensed like he’d been zapped with a high-voltage stun gun. They thought Meredith was the one?

  Black had two giant screens in front of him, and now each one divided into quarters. He dragged the hallway picture into one segment, and the image from Emmy’s body cam filled another. Click, click, click. How many cameras had they installed in that suite? One pointed at the door, another at the wet bar, and a third at the sofas. Both of the two bedrooms were covered, as was the dining area.

  They had sound too, as Zander found out when Black put a finger to his ear then turned on the speakers.

  “I’m coming,” Emmy called out.

  The only movement came from Emmy’s walk to the door, and when she opened it, she kept her voice light. Pleasant.

  “Hey, Meredith. Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great. I just stopped by to say hi. I mean, since you seem to be sticking around with Travis, I thought we should get to know each other.”

  “Oh, sure. Good idea. I guess the girls have to stick together in this industry, right? Did anyone tell you I used to be in a band?”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, we were called Sisters of the Annihilation. I played bass.”

  “Can Emmy really play the guitar?” Zander whispered.

  Black shook his head. “She doesn’t even know which way up to hold it.”

  On screen, Emmy opened the door wide enough for Meredith to step inside the suite, and even though Zander knew she’d never drink on the job, she put a wobble in her gait as she crossed the room towards the seating area. An almost-empty glass of red sat on the coffee table.

  Meredith carried on towards the balcony. “You have a great view. Look at the guy with the dog down there. It’s almost as big as he is.”

  “What’s the bitch planning to do?” Black muttered. “Throw my wife over the balcony?”

  But Emmy didn’t bite. “Oh, I don’t go out there. I don’t like heights.”

  “Then why are you in the penthouse?”

  “I wanted a bathroom with a whirlpool tub, and this was the last one left.”

  “Money to spare, huh?”

  Emmy shrugged. “Why not? Daddy died young and left it to me, so I might as well spend it. He couldn’t take it with him, and neither can I.”

  “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

  “Better a spendthrift than a penny pincher, that’s what my mom always used to say.”

  “Used to?”

  “After rehab, she moved to Tennessee and joined an ‘ecological movement.’” Emmy used little finger quotes. “She gave up all her earthly possessions to hug a cactus or some shit like that, but luckily, she couldn’t get at my trust fund.”

  Where did Emmy come up with this stuff? Zander didn’t know, but she did a pretty convincing job of looking tipsy as she stumbled away from Meredith and fell in a heap on the sofa.

  “Dammit. I should have offered you a drink. Do you want a drink?”

  Meredith waved a hand. “Don’t worry; I’ll make them. What do you want?”

  “Pepsi. The caffeine-free one. With vodka and a slice of lemon.”

  “No caffeine? How do you get up in the mornings?”

  “No caffeine, no aspartame. They’re both bad for you. And who cares about getting up in the mornings?”

  Meredith rolled her eyes, which seemed reasonable to Zander considering Emmy had snorted “coke” at Rush’s place on Friday night. Apparently it wasn’t really coke, it was only lactose powder, but Meredith didn’t know that.

  “Lactose powder’s great,” Emmy had said. “Unless you’re Slater from our Richmond office. He’s lactose intolerant, and it gave him the shits on an undercover job last year.”

  What a delightful story.

  Anyhow, Emmy had survived the party, although if JD ever tried taking drugs around Lanie, Zander would be having words with the man. And now Emmy had to survive Meredith. Black zoomed in as their suspect rattled glasses at the wet bar built into a corner of the lounge. Zander knew from experience it would be well-stocked with everything from designer gin to five kinds of peanuts.

  “Diamond, Meredith’s just tipped something from a small bottle into one of the glasses. A clear liquid. Tagging it now.”

  Emmy angled her body cam down at her hand and gave the “okay” sign—a circled thumb and forefinger—out of Meredith’s sight, and Black tagged the tainted glass with a red dot on the screen to keep track of it. What had she poured in there? And more importantly, how would Emmy handle it?

  “Mack, secure the door,” Black said.

  Mack was Blackwood’s head of information systems, and she must have had a direct link into the hotel’s security system in order to override the electronic lock. Black gave a small satisfied nod a moment later.

  Meanwhile, Meredith had filled two glasses with ice and Pepsi, and now she dropped a slice of lemon in each. Held onto the knife a beat too long, then put it down on the tiny wooden chopping board embossed with the hotel’s logo.

  “Here you go,” she said, setting a glass on the table in front of Emmy. The glass with the red dot. “Enjoy.”

  “Glass is with you,” Black said.

  “Could you do me a favour and get me one of those swizzle sticks?”

  “Sure.”

  Was it Zander’s imagination, or did Meredith have a spring in her step as she walked across the room?

  “So, you’re performing at the show tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Meredith dropped the stick into Emmy’s drink and took a seat opposite. “The casino boss saw a live stream of
our show in Camden and wanted both bands.”

  “That’s awesome. I can’t wait to hear you play.” Emmy stirred her Pepsi, seemingly absent-mindedly, but she didn’t take a sip. Why had she wanted a damn swizzle stick? As a distraction? Meredith took a long swallow of her own drink, perhaps as a hint. “How does playing for a crowd compare with being in the recording studio?”

  “The studio’s easier. ’Cause if it goes wrong, you can just do it again, you know? But I love the energy of a crowd. It’s like a drug.”

  “Have you got more shows lined up?”

  “Maybe. We might tour in the US with Indigo Rain, but our label wants us to write new material first.”

  “And how’s that going?”

  She made a face. “Slower than I’d hoped.”

  Black talked softly into his headset, instructing an unknown operative. “Knock and say you’re from housekeeping. Don’t go in. If anyone opens the door, make an excuse and leave.”

  Sure enough, a quiet tap sounded through the speakers. “Housekeeping.”

  Meredith’s head snapped around, and Emmy took the opportunity to pour a third of her drink into the plant pot next to the couch. The poor potted palm was taking one for the team.

  “Can you come back later?” she called, then smiled at Meredith. “Slow because you have so many touring commitments?”

  “That and my songwriting partner’s been distracted lately.”

  Who was her songwriting partner? Verity? No, of course not. Realisation dawned on Zander. Travis was Meredith’s songwriting partner. Was this her motive for removing all the women in his life? Not out of common-or-garden jealousy but because they threatened to derail her career if he didn’t knuckle down and write her damn songs? Cold. That was cold.

  Black had obviously come to the same hasty conclusion. “Back off that one, Diamond.”

  “Aw, that’s a shame. But I’m sure you’ll get your lyrical mojo back soon. What do you plan to sing tonight?”

  And so the small talk continued, through Styx and Stones’s back catalogue, the hotel’s dining choices, and fashion. Bradley had educated Emmy well on the latter. And during the conversation, she used sleight of hand and the distraction of a staged row in the hallway outside to get rid of most of her drink. Finally, Meredith downed the last dregs of hers and stood, no doubt pleased with her work.