Kissing in Action

by Camilla Chafer

  I counted to a hundred, then flushed the toilet, ran the water in the sink and mussed up the towel on the rack before I unlocked the door and stepped back into the room. Don was pouring tea from the large pot, and Amelia had tossed her magazine onto the coffee table.

  "Is this your last video?" I asked, starting a conversation that I hoped would make Amelia feel comfortable again.

  She shrugged and sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. Management are still talking about the future."

  "You don't want to continue with the band?" I asked, wondering why she was keeping up the charade after the lengths she'd gone to in order to get fired.

  "I don't care. We could make a lot of money if we stick together."

  "That's good news."

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "Listen, about Lauren..."

  "I said, I don't want to talk about it! If you want to talk to Lauren, she's at the warehouse, filming. I'm not getting into anymore trouble for this shit and I'm not saying another word."

  I tried several more approaches, but Lauren didn't want to talk and Don was looking increasingly agitated. Rather than risk one of them calling Joe and getting me into more trouble, all I could do was thank Amelia for her time and leave.

  Stepping out of the hotel, I hailed a cab and climbed in, asking to be delivered to the warehouse. I was hoping Fletcher hadn't solved the case in the hours since he took over. What should have been a twenty-minute journey turned into over an hour as we got stuck in a traffic jam due to a collision on Century Street. When I arrived, I was bored and frustrated, but I needn't have worried about Fletcher. I found him sitting on a plastic chair, his feet up on another, far away from the crew, and he didn't look happy.

  "What's happenin'?" I asked.

  "Nothing unless you enjoy this kind of stuff."

  "I do. Are they still filming?"

  "Yeah. Shelley is doing her thing now and Lauren is in makeup. She just finished. Amelia left a couple of hours ago."

  "I know. I just spoke to her at the hotel. I need to talk to Lauren."

  "Solomon called. He's looking for you."

  "Why didn't he call me?"

  "Said your phone is off."

  I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and touched the screen. It was off. I pressed the reset button and it whirred silently to life. "Don't know how that happened," I said, puzzled as the battery indicator flashed almost full. Three text messages immediately popped onto the screen.

  Two from Solomon timed thirty minutes ago and ten minutes ago read, Call the office. The third was from Lily and simply read, OMG! You're on TV!

  "What the hell?" I asked the phone. To Fletcher, I asked, "Did Solomon say why he wanted me to call?"

  "No, he just said, ‘When you see Lexi, get her to call me right away’."

  "Did he sound annoyed?" I asked, wondering what Lily meant by on TV.

  "He didn't sound happy. What did you do?"

  "Nothing," I said. "I saw him this morning, then I went to talk to Amelia, but she clammed up so now I need to talk to Lauren." My phone rang and I jumped. Solomon. I answered it, my stomach tightening into a knot.

  "Where are you?" asked Solomon.

  "The warehouse. Amelia wouldn't talk so I came to ask Lauren directly..."

  "Leave it for now. Get to the office. We have a crisis."

  "What kind of..." But I didn't get to finish. Solomon already hung up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  To me, a crisis might mean a whole bunch of things. It might mean that my mother called and insisted on Solomon baking something for the potluck dinner. Or it could mean a major curveball was impeding our investigation… As I hailed yet another cab and made my way back to the agency, I was at least reassured that we hadn't lost Lauren, lest she go on a murderous rampage.

  When I arrived in the office, thirty long minutes later, Solomon did not look like he received a call from my mom. He looked like he was about to go homicidal! Given that his facial expressions were limited at best, I quickly ran through my options. The one I chose was turning on my heel and hightailing it out of there, then hiding until whatever happened blew over. But sadly, I could not act on it.

  "Explain this," said Solomon, jabbing a button on his laptop and turning it around so I could view the screen. "No, wait, let me increase the volume," he added, hitting another button.

  My heart skipped a beat as a grainy video filled the screen. The picture might not have been HD or perfect, but the image was clear: three women stripping and singing on a small stage in a dark club in Montgomery. The same video I thought I scrubbed every image of as the bouncer and I checked everyone’s cell phones. Clearly, we missed someone. I watched myself rushing across the screen, grabbing discarded items of clothing as I hurried towards the stage. With a sinking heart, I knew exactly where I saw this video before. The Blue Moon's doorman sent it to me with his assurance he deleted it from the phone on which he found it.

  "Uh..." Did I delete it from mine? I couldn't remember. I closed my eyes, knowing I didn't want to see anymore and cringed.

  "That's what I thought. Keep watching."

  "I don't need to."

  "Yeah, you know what happens next."

  While I cowered and winced, a top flew off, landing on a vacant chair near the video version of me. I watched myself grabbing it.

  "Remember earlier? When I asked if there was anything else you needed to tell me? Didn’t you think I might have meant something like this?" Solomon's voice rose as he jabbed a finger at the screen.

  "I thought I handled it!"

  "You didn't see the guy holding the camera?"

  "No, but it's probably a cell phone..."

  "I worked that out already!"

  "...And I was so busy making sure no one was filming..."

  "Except this guy!"

  "I'm really sorry!"

  "Sorry isn't good enough on this one."

  "Maybe we can speak to whomever emailed it to you? Get them to sign a..."

  "Too late. This wasn't emailed to me. It's streaming on the biggest gossip blog in the world!"

  Feeling faint, I whispered, "Oh, no!"

  "And you know what's even worse than this video getting streamed to... let's see, nine hundred thousand people in the last hour?"

  "Um, nothing?"

  "No. I just got a call from Joe. He was asking me to explain why my employee is at a strip club where all three girls in the band were stripping and singing derogatory songs about their recently deceased band member. You know what makes that even worse? I had Lucas hack their network to find out where they got that video. You know what I discovered?"

  "Someone local?" I guessed, thinking I needed to talk to Ray Domingo. Perhaps he realized selling the video was worth more than helping the sister of the man who once helped turn his life around. I had to admit, if I were in his position, I'd certainly feel tempted by the cash too.

  "Your phone. This damn video came from your phone!"

  I paled. My stomach turned inside out as the shock hit me. "No. No way. It can't have!"

  "Save it! This agency has never been so embarrassed. Do you know how hard it is to draw in lucrative contracts like this? Do you know how many times I've had to explain the agency's actions to Joe Carter? First, Shelley's leaked secret, then Amelia's secret wedding getting out..."

  He didn't need to continue. I knew where he was going with it: it all came from me. The band may have screwed up, but I wasn't responsible for their actions. No, that was all on them. "Maybe if I talk to him..."

  "No way! You're officially off the case. Take a short vacation. Chill out at home, and put your feet up or something."

  "What? But I didn't do anything wrong!" I yelled, breathing heavily. My surprise and indignation from getting blamed for everything hit me. I didn't send the video; and I didn't know who might’ve hacked my phone, but clearly, Solomon was in no mood for another apology or explanation. "I've tried so hard on this case even when they threw things at me, and bitched and moaned,
and even hit on you! I discovered Amelia was the blackmailer, and I also provided an alibi for Joe and her in the murder. I don't know who did this, but it wasn't me!"

  "You're still off the case!"

  I drew in a harsh breath and fought back furious tears over the injustice of it all. "You know what? I'm done. I quit!" I exclaimed before turning around and walking out of the office. Naturally, I expected Solomon to call me back at any moment, but he didn't. As for me? I kept walking.

  ~

  "You didn't accidentally send it to them? It's so easy to inadvertently hit a button?" asked Lily. I was perched on a bar stool in her bar, a Long Island iced tea in front of me. I asked her to hold the tea and replace it with more alcohol before I sobbed out the whole sordid story of B4U's embarrassing strip tape and how I caught all the blame. I didn't know how to prove I didn't mail the tape to a gossip blog, or if I even wanted to.

  "No! I checked on the way over and it was in my sent file, but I didn't send it and there's no way I can prove it. The band girls probably think I got a payday out of it."

  "Shame."

  "What?"

  "That you didn't get a payday. It would have softened the blow of taking the blame."

  I took another long sip. "How can I ever get Solomon to believe it wasn't me?"

  "By finding out who really sent it," replied Lily, the simplicity of her statement mind-blowing.

  "That's just it, I don't know. My phone is always in my purse, or my jacket. I never leave it alone."

  "You don't have a purse today."

  "I'm traveling light. I have my little wallet and phone in my jacket pocket, and I never even took it off except... oh no!" I thought back to my interview with Amelia. I took a fake bathroom break to give Amelia a moment to cool down, leaving my jacket folded over the arm of the chair. While I hoped she’d spend a few minutes trying to take it easy, she used them to search my phone, screw up my life and achieve her original objective: sinking the band once and for all, just to get out of her contract. "That bitch!"

  "Who?"

  "Amelia. It had to be her! She had access to my phone earlier. She could have gotten into it and emailed the video."

  "Haven’t you heard of pin protection?"

  "Sure, but it's not hard to get past it if you know how. Maybe she looked over my shoulder one time and remembered it."

  "You should tell Solomon that. He should be aware that Amelia might have set you up."

  "I don't know. You should have seen him earlier. I've never seen him so mad."

  "Did he get frown lines?"

  I frowned automatically. "No."

  "Did his face move at all?"

  "He narrowed his eyes and yelled."

  "Oh boy!"

  "So I quit."

  "You did what? Lexi!"

  "The words just came out!"

  "You can't quit! You're Lexi Graves, private investigator. Also, Solomon is your boyfriend, unless you quit him too?"

  "I don't think so." I winced, wondering if Solomon considered my job resignation a rejection of him too. Since I was too mad at him to call, and figured he felt the same about me, I'd just have to assume he didn't believe it. "Do you think Solomon thinks that?"

  "I'm not sure guys think, so probably not, no."

  "Down on guys today?"

  "No, just frustrated that Jord canceled date night; and left a note on the fridge to make something for potluck dinner at your mom's. What should I make?"

  "No clue. I don't even know what I'm making. You know, I didn't even get an invite. Garrett told me."

  "I bet I know what the dinner conversation will be. You." Lily giggled and reached for another glass to wipe clean.

  I dropped my head onto the bar and moaned while she patted me and asked me not to put off the other customers who were glancing in our direction.

  "You know, you could still be a PI; just set up your own agency," she suggested.

  "I don't have an office."

  "Use the small room next to my office."

  "I can't run a detective agency out of a bar. I can't even run a business, period."

  "Number one, sure you can. A detective agency run out of a bar scores major noir points; and two, I run a business. Your sister runs a business. So you can too."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  "You could always ask Solomon to rehire you."

  I lifted my head briefly. "Never!"

  "Then you'll have to go freelance. You have a mortgage to pay, remember?"

  I dropped my head again, muttering, "And a fashion habit."

  "You are never knowingly under-dressed."

  "I have my standards."

  "So, do you want that spare office? C'mon on, Lexi! It'll be fun. Your mom and I can help. We both passed Spy 101 at the adult ed center!"

  The image of my mom and Lily sneaking around the library and following a mystery man popped into my head. "That's what you were doing at the library!"

  "Uh... yeah. Our mark never suspected a thing. We graduated at the top of our class!"

  "How many were in the class?"

  Lily counted two on her fingers then tossed her hair. "I don't want to talk about it. So do you want the office, or not?"

  "I'll think about it; thanks." I dragged myself upright, smoothing my hair as I checked my reflection in the mirrored back wall of the bar. I looked tired. At least, I held back my furious tears, thanks to a non-waterproof mascara I wore that day. If I had a face painted like one of the Kiss members, I would have found it necessary to drag my sorry butt home.

  "Lexi?" Hearing a female voice behind me, I looked over, my expression probably as sour as I felt. When I saw Lauren, I straightened up and tried to look less desolate. "Uh, hi. It took me a while to track you down."

  "You tracked me down?" I frowned, utterly confused. "What are you doing here?"

  Lauren slid onto the bar stool next to me. "Can I get a hot tea?" she asked Lily.

  "You can, but that's so boring. Don't you want a real drink?"

  "Yeah, but maybe later." Lauren smiled shyly. "Do you talk all to your customers like that?"

  "Only the fun ones," said Lily. "I'll get your tea."

  We watched Lily as she moved to the other end of the bar where the coffee and tea machine were located. Finally, my curiosity got the better of me. "Why were you looking for me?" I asked.

  "I heard you got fired."

  "I quit!"

  "Because of the video?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Seriously?" I raised my eyebrows.

  "Truthfully? No, I'm not sorry about what we did, just that we got caught. And I am sorry you lost your job over it."

  I drained my drink. "At least, you're honest."

  "I'm glad you think so. I want to hire you."

  "Yay, your first client," said Lily, placing a teacup in front of Lauren. "Told you! Working out of a bar is smart. Are you paying?"

  Lauren nodded quickly. "Yes."

  "Good," said Lily, holding up a camera. "Smile!" Lauren immediately plastered a smile on her face and Lily snapped the shot. A photo slid out of the old-fashioned Polaroid camera and she stuck it on the mirrored wall. "I'm starting a wall of fame," she told us.

  "There's only one photo," pointed out Lauren, "and it's me."

  "You're a trend-setter," Lily told her.

  "What do you want to hire me for?" I asked, feeling more than puzzled.

  "I want you to keep on doing what you were doing."

  "And what was that?"

  "Following me."

  "Okaay," I said, wondering if I should mention the other teams that were also following her.

  "Okay, well, not follow me exactly. I want you to do the other thing you were doing... I want you to prove I didn't kill Katya."

  "What makes you think I want to help you now? You and your band have been nothing but pains in the ass since I joined the case," I said, not concealing how bitter I felt.

  "I know and I'm sorry,
but you need a job and I need your help. You believe in me. I know the police are following me since I'm their only suspect. I need you to prove to everyone that I didn't hurt Katya. I didn't kill her."

  "Why don't you tell them where you really were when she was murdered?"

  "I..." Lauren paused, pinching her lips together. "I can't do that."

  Somehow, I wasn't surprised that Lauren really was somewhere else, but I was glad she came close to admitting it. "Then how am I supposed to help you?"

  "By finding the real killer."

  "It would be a lot easier if you would told me your alibi. Then I can tell the police, let them verify it and boom! You are immediately eliminated from the suspect pool."

  "I comprise the entire suspect pool, and believe me, I would if I could, but I can't. Look, it's not simple, okay?"

  "You're protecting someone," I guessed, waiting for any sign that I was right. Lauren's face remained impassive. "That Michael guy?" She blinked in surprise and I grabbed onto it. "I knew it! Tell the police you were with him and get him to verify it."

  "No."

  "Then I don't think I can help you." I turned away, but kept watching her out of the corner of my eye. For a few seconds, Lauren did nothing. As she reached for her purse, I thought she would simply get up and walk away, but instead, she pulled out a checkbook and opened it. A moment later, she slid a check over to me. "How about now?" she asked.

  "Are you serious?" I squeaked, looking at the figure.

  Lily plucked the check from my hand, her eyes widening. "Are you?" she demanded.

  "Yes. I would say deadly serious, but I don't think that would help." Lauren restrained a smile, but Lily just laughed and stuck out her hand. Taking it, Lauren shook it, looking confused.

  "Congratulations," said Lily, giving her hand a final pump. "You hired a PI and you get your tea on the house since this is also Lexi's new office."

  "In a bar?"

  "She said with condescension, the same woman who was recently caught taking her top off on video," Lily mocked.